Note: If there are any 'Scapers out there reading this, you will recognize something that was blatantly ripped off. Let's call it an homage, ok?
It was Selina's silence that was getting to him. She was like a ghost, haunting the penthouse, there but not really present.
Bruce told Alfred that he now understood how Alfred must have felt all those years ago. Helpless.
The helpless feeling was not only with Selina but how the Wackford situation had played out. Daniel Wackford had remained in control until the very end. Giving nothing away, betraying no one, dominating, he ended his reign on his terms.
All the evidence against him had been destroyed in the explosion. The explosion that, coincidentally, managed to only destroy the basement. There had been fire safeguards in place that prevented the rest of the house from being damaged. Daniel had indeed planned well.
Gordon was determined to find someone to answer for the murders. He had good reason to believe others were involved, their names that had been found in Wackford's files. All were powerful men who should be out of a commissioner's reach but Gordon had Bruce's backing and Blake's tenacity to prove the men's involvement in Wackford's secret, murderous club.
The embarrassingly opulent funeral for Daniel was held a few days ago. Wanting to get a look at everyone who showed up, Bruce Wayne attended even though it meant sitting through speech after speech about Daniel's greatness. It was one of the most disgusting things Bruce had ever sat through. As one Senator extolled Daniel's generosity to those less fortunate, Bruce had had enough. He had been seated toward the front so when he got up to leave, everyone noticed and whispered about how Bruce Wayne had snubbed the Wackford family.
As Bruce left the Gotham Cathedral, he called the Times reporter he had researched and deemed an honest investigative journalist. Masking his voice and his telephone number, he fed her enough details of the case to keep her busy for the next few months.
"Don't let Wackford be remembered for being a good man," he told her before ending the call. He tossed the phone on the seat next to him. He hadn't intended to personally call a reporter but the stories that were presently circulating were beginning to sound gossipy with no hard facts.
A few days later, Miriam Wackford happened to bump into him as he was leaving Wayne Enterprises. As usual, she looked impeccable in a smart black Chanel suit. She wore her mourning well.
The sympathy he felt for her began to fade as he saw the angry, determined gleam in her eye. There was nothing in her expression to suggest she was a recently widowed woman mourning her husband of forty years.
"I assume you're behind the smear campaign against Daniel," Miriam said, sounding haughty and dismissive.
"Why would I do that?" Bruce asked, innocently.
"You embarrassed us at the funeral," she said. "Why not let this rest with Daniel?"
He stared at her as realization set in.
"You knew what he was, didn't you, Miriam?" He asked, his fists balling in anger.
She did not look away but kept her unintimidated gaze firmly fixed on his.
As their gazes locked, Bruce quickly figured out that standing here before him was the woman who had severed all the loose ends. It was she, not Daniel, who had hired out the hit woman to kill Selina. Daniel and Sykes had wanted their film returned so they wouldn't have tried to have her killed before getting it back. No, it was the elegantly cool and composed Miriam Wackford, complicit in her husband's crimes, determined to maintain her social status.
"No one of any consequence was affected. Except, of course, your...girlfriend," she said with an indifferent shrug. "Honestly, I don't know why you're making a big deal out of this. Even your parents understood the rules of our society."
Daniel had profounding offended Bruce. Stalking his mother, laughing over his father's death, threatening Helena, putting vile fears into Bruce's mind and and Selina…
He looked around, making sure no one was watching then stepped closer to Miriam. He towered over her, allowing his most menacing visage to be revealed to her.
"Do not mess with me, Miriam," Bruce growled aggressively, pleased to see her eyes widen in shock. "You don't know who you're dealing with. I suggest you and your family get out of Gotham and do not come back."
"How dare you!" She sputtered then gestured for her chauffer to escort her out. She threw Bruce a deathly glare over her shoulder. He was violating some kind of rich person's code but he didn't care.
As he watched her walk away, he called his attorneys to inquire how Melissa Cantrell, found in Daniel's basement, could sue the Wackford family. He then called Gordon, telling him who was behind the explosion that killed his officers at the mansion. Gordon vainly tried to find evidence tying Miriam to the explosion but without the hitwoman who would never talk, all he would find were dead ends.
What followed was a war in the media. Bruce was determined to decimate the public reputation of the Wackfords. It was the kind of war that had threatened some thirty years before when Thomas Wayne confronted Daniel Wackford. In response to Bruce's anonymous assault, someone in the Wackford camp fed stories of Daniel's innocence to the Gazette, indicating that the police were framing Daniel because of a grudge, that they were being led on by the opposing political party that wanted to unseat the incumbent congressmen that Wackford had heartily supported. It was far more sordid than Bruce was used to.
But all that hardly mattered now as Bruce stood beside his friends at The Towers.
Bobby had organized the memorial service for Oliver which had taken longer than expected. Bruce found that surprising as few of the people who attended appeared to have jobs. The reason, Bruce suspected, had much to do with Selina and her state of mind which seemed to be getting worse.
Bruce's eyes went again to Selina who stood by herself, leaning against a graffitied wall in the Quad. Dressed in black with her eyes hidden by sunglasses, she looked so distant, so stoic and unapproachable that Bruce could scarcely believe she was the same woman he had traveled the world with.
He had to remind himself that he knew her, knew everything about her, what made her laugh, irritated her, angered her, what turned her on. Knew everything save that part of her she had kept entirely to herself. Selina was the strongest person he knew but he had known that cracks were there, little bits of vulnerability she did her best to hide. Now those cracks had been blown wide open.
The memorial gathering was held in the Quad at the Towers. No effort had been made to pretty up the place. Trash still littered the grounds, broken bottles and used needles as well as the random shoe that everyone had to step over.
Clearly the outsiders of the group, Bruce, Alfred, Blake, Gordon, and Jessica all hung back. No one paid them any attention. Gordon shifted uncomfortably when the smell of marijuana drifted their way but he made no move to identify the smoker. Which would be nearly impossible in this group.
People continued to drift over, most huddled in groups until Bobby began his eulogy. Bruce listened as Bobby, then friend after friend spoke about Oliver. The stories contained a great deal of drug use and hard times but everyone mentioned his good heart and that despite everything, Ollie managed to retain an air of innocence about him.
Neither Daryl or Selina spoke, both had the same detached look about them.
"What's going on?" A man pushing a cart ambled over. "There a body over there?"
"No," Blake answered. "It's a memorial service for Oliver Preston."
"Who?"
"O-L-L," a woman in front of them whispered.
"O-L-L's dead?"
"Shut up and listen!" She hissed before turning back around.
"Watch my cart, would ya?" The man asked Blake. Without waiting for a response, he headed into the crowd where he soon shared his own Oliver story.
DeeDee went to stand by Selina who barely acknowledged her. DeeDee met his eye and gave Bruce an encouraging smile. She saw what was happening with Selina, too.
It was a mistake coming back, he knew that now, too many ghosts. Bruce Wayne of the Wayne family didn't have to live in Gotham but he had wanted the family legacy for Helena and Selina wanted what was in Helena's best interest.
And, Bruce reminded himself, Selina had wanted to come home. Without the warrants for her arrest, she could finally kick back and enjoy her home city. Something she had never really been able to do before.
Selina had always been so matter of fact about growing up in poverty that he almost believed it wasn't a big deal. Poverty and neglect shaped her, forced her into choices that kept her always looking over her shoulder, her freedom threatened.
He was jarred away from his musings at Daryl's angry below:
"Toby! Shut up, man!"
"Wha?" Toby looked around, confused until he saw Daryl's furious expression. "Uh...no...I meant she kicked that pimp, not killed! Kicked. Selina wouldna done that…"
Did that guy just say Selina had killed someone? Bruce glanced at Gordon who just looked at his shoes. Blake shook his head trying to not look amused. DeeDee looked angry, glancing at Jessica and Gordon to gauge their reaction. Selina stared ahead, expressionless.
Daryl shoved Toby back into the crowd as someone else began to talk.
After the service, as they stood around waiting for Selina, Bruce noticed a very faded W near one of the entrances to the Towers. He pointed it out to Alfred who nodded his head.
He went over to get a closer look. Wiping away the grime, he read the inscription about his grandparents who had the buildings erected after the war to honor all those who died fighting injustice.
"This your building?" Daryl asked as he read what Bruce was looking at.
"Probably the city's building that my grandparents paid to build." Bruce replied.
"Don't listen to anything Toby has to say, He does not know what he's talking about," Daryl said as he looked back at the group that was beginning to disperse. "Are your friends going to do anything?"
"No," Bruce replied. He caught a flash of movement as a child darted inside the broken down building.
"Kids live there," he said.
"Kids always live there." Daryl shrugged. "It may not look like it but it's a refuge for many people."
"What do you think would help them?"
Daryl regarded him for a few moments. "Can't just throw money at it. And if you fix it up too much these people will have nowhere to go."
"You think it best to do nothing?" Bruce asked.
"I'm not saying that. I'm just saying it's more complicated than having a fundraiser and throwing money at it."
Bruce nodded, hearing what Daryl was saying. He looked at Selina who was standing with Bobby and a few other people.
They walked back to where Alfred and the others waited by their cars.
"You know," Daryl said as he looked at Gordon standing in the distance. "It was cops that picked her up that day."
"What?" Bruce stopped short.
"Cops. We thought she was getting arrested but they took her to him. She wasn't the only one they had done that too either."
Bruce stared at him. He knew very well how corrupt the Gotham Police Department was but picking up kids to be delivered to a predator was more evil than he expected. Even the mob had had standards when it came to that kind of thing.
"Policemen put her into a police car then took her to Wackford?"
"Yep," Daryl said. "Might be nice if someone found who those assholes are."
"Yes, it would."
"Oh for Chrissakes…" Daryl muttered disgustedly.
Bruce turned to see what had caught Daryl's attention. An older man, who while not looking like a homeless man, had a slovenly, unkempt look about him, ambled over to Selina. In his hand, he carried a bottle wrapped in a brown paper bag. A lit cigarette dangled out of his mouth.
"Hey," he greeted her. "What's going on over here?"
"Nothing," Selina responded coldly.
"What happened to your arm?"
She shrugged dismissively. "Nothing important."
"Why you mad?" He asked looking surprised. The surprised look, however, soon gave way to greed. "Bet they gave you some good stuff for that." He gestured to her arm.
Selina stared at him as he looked at her expectantly. Her expressionless mask finally broke revealing hurt. She threw her purse, a small purse containing pain meds that Bruce knew she was not taking, at him. Without a word, she stalked away.
As she passed Bruce, she said, "Let's go!" Then walked to Alfred who waited by the car.
Bruce and Alfred exchanged a questioning glance as Daryl went to the man and grabbed Selina's purse. He tossed it to Bruce then shoved the man who stumbled back, almost falling. To add insult to injury, Daryl threw the man's gin bottle against the wall, shattering the glass.
Daryl cast an angry look at Selina who had already gotten in the car and was looking out the opposite window. For a moment, it looked like Daryl was going to go to her to have it out. A small part of Bruce wished he would, anything that would jar Selina out of her lethargy. But Daryl thought the better of it and walked off, soon disappearing from sight.
"Who was that?" Alfred asked DeeDee who had come over to see what was happening.
She looked at the man who had found a group of people willing to share their joint with him. He clapped them on the back, grinning with triumph as he took a hit.
DeeDee shook her head in sad exasperation. "That's Selina's father."
On the ride home, Selina remained silent. As soon as they returned to the penthouse, she disappeared upstairs not to be seen again until later that evening when she suddenly appeared in Bruce's downstairs office.
He was trying to get his mind back on work. The India project was nearing completion. Mittal needed answers about some last minute details. Bruce had trouble focusing enough to solve the issues, staring blankly at his computer screen.
"Would you take me to his place?" She asked quietly from the doorway.
They took the motorcycle. Selina's casted arm between them, her good arm around his waist as he drove them to Oliver's apartment. She rested her chin on his shoulder and for the time it took to get from the Penthouse to Old Town, Bruce could almost believe everything was alright between them.
Bruce stood by the door as Selina walked around the small apartment, touching objects, picking up clothes, and looking at everything that Oliver had left behind.
"I don't know what we should do with all this," she said.
"We can box it up, put it in storage."
"Put it with Balashov's stuff?" She asked as their eyes met, remembering their old Russian friend. "So do we rent out special storage for dead people's things?"
"What do you want to do?"
For a moment, it looked like she was going to actually answer his question. Truly communicate something real to him which she had not done in ages.
But she replied with her now standard "I don't care" and brushed past him to leave the apartment.
As he locked the door behind him, Oliver's neighbor poked her head out of her apartment.
"She doesn't look so good," she said with more concern than Bruce would have expected. "Is she going to be okay?"
"I don't know," he murmured then followed Selina downstairs.
Selina waited for him on the motorcycle. He climbed on, sitting in front of her. As he drove away, she did not put her arm around him again but held herself as far away as she safely could.
On their way back to the Penthouse, they drove through the Narrows.
"Son of a bitch!" Selina exclaimed twisting around to see behind her. "Stop!"
Before Bruce could come to a complete stop, Selina jumped off the back of the motorcycle, running through traffic, narrowly getting hit by a car that screeched to a stop.
Bruce quickly turned around, ignoring the honks and brakes screeching as the other cars swerved to miss him. He saw Selina run into an alley. He got there in time to see her throw a bottle at a man and woman who had not known she was following them.
By the time he parked and got off the motorcycle, Selina was on the man, punching him in the face. She alternated hands with each punch, her casted hand doing the most damage. The woman with him began hitting her on the back, trying to get Selina to stop hitting the man.
Bruce pulled her off Selina, shoving her away as he picked up Selina. She struggled against him, managing to kick the man in the leg. Bruce took a step backward so she couldn't lash out the man who was now laying in a fetal position in the alley.
"You bitch!" The woman screamed at Selina. The woman looked like a hardcore, lifelong drug addict with leathery, scabby skin, teeth missing, and unkempt hair. The man writhing on the ground looked even worse.
"Let me go, Bruce!"
"Selina!" Bruce tightened his grasp, trying to avoid hurting her. "What are you doing?"
"You didn't even bother to come!" Selina yelled at the couple. The woman was trying to get the man to stand up. "Your son's dead and you can't be bothered to show up!"
"And get our asses kicked?" The man on the ground asked.
"You lied about us, Selina! You and Daryl told everyone lies about us!" Ollie's mother yelled.
"Turned the neighborhood against us!" Ollie's father said as he drew a dirty but sharp knife that Bruce, still holding Selina, immediately swatted from his hand.
Selina writhed out his grasp and struck the woman who lashed back at Selina slapping her face. Angrily, Bruce pushed the woman away knocking her into some bags of trash.
"Do you know what they did?" Selina cried, backing away from him. "Do you know what they did to him? To their own son?"
"I do," he said, reaching out to her. "Selina, I know."
Selina stopped backing away, allowing him to get to her, enfolding her in his arms.
"You shut up! Go back to prison!" Ollie's mother screamed at Selina as she struggled to get up out of the mess of garbage Bruce had knocked her in.
"Get out of here!" Bruce growled at the couple. They heard danger in his voice and ran out of the alley onto the street.
Bruce held Selina as she finally broke, his face buried in her hair as sobs wracked her body.
In the alley, Selina had been so overwhelmed with emotion she had not been able to pull herself out. The tsunami of grief, remorse, and sadness that she'd managed to hold at bay was finally unleashed. Most of it was a blur except him. Bruce held her tightly to him, his hands sliding over her back as her sobs ravaged her. When she calmed enough, he gently guided her away from the street to cry more.
When the worst of the sobs had subsided, he tenderly wiped her face before leading her back to the motorcycle. Knowing she was weak, he kept his arm wrapped protectively around her, holding her close.
He asked if she'd rather take a taxi home. She shook her head no.
"Just drive," she said, wrapping her good arm around him. This time she held on for dear life as they drove through the streets of Gotham.
They drove for hours. The night was theirs. Selina rested her cheek against his back, needing his strength. She closed her eyes, listening to the roar of the motorcycle, smelling the good and bad aromas of the city, feeling the wind through her hair. As the tears streamed down her cheeks, she tightened her arm around him.
Just before dawn, they returned to the Penthouse. Bruce helped her off the motorcycle. A fresh round of tears had started, she struggled to not dissolve into a puddle of water.
She looked up at him, seeing his concern and his understanding.
"They got the best of me, Bruce," Selina whispered brokenly. "They really did. My heart is broken."
"You'll get through this, Selina," he said, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.
But he was wrong.
For the next few weeks, Selina existed, quietly drifting around the Penthouse when she bothered to leave her or Helena's room at all. She confined her crying to the privacy of the shower, letting the hot water pour over her as her grief overcame her. Bruce could tell when she'd been crying. He didn't confront her about it but she could see his worry and sympathy,
The huge Penthouse was too crowded with people who worried over Selina so she sought refuge in her daughter's room or the master bedroom. When in the master bedroom, she slept which kept Bruce from asking her how she was doing. When she was in Helena's room, she sat with her daughter at the little table and colored with her. No one wanted to interrupt her time with Helena so they left her alone.
It was a good plan, Selina decided.
She was relieved when Bruce deemed it safe for Isha and Shanti to return home with their family. Isha and Shanti meant well but Selina felt bombarded by their concern. Isha trying to get her to eat and Shanti fretting over her physical injuries. Still concerned about their safety, Bruce kept a security guard detail posted at their modest townhome until he was sure there was no further danger from the Wackfords.
At the Penthouse, Bruce retained one guard on duty. Bruce knew the day when the media learned about Helena's existence was only a matter of time. Little girls with rich fathers were a target and Bruce was very good at imagining the worst of possible scenarios.
Since Helena was already familiar with him, David took the day shifts. He sometimes acted as the chauffeur, driving Selina to her doctor's appointments or wherever else she wanted to go. She felt like he was keeping tabs on her, reporting about her to Bruce but she knew that wasn't the case.
She simply didn't do enough to warrant being told on. Other than visits to the doctor, she rarely ventured out of the penthouse during the day. Choosing to spend her time alternating between Helena and sleeping, Selina told herself she was focusing on getting well again but she was actually busy rebuilding her walls that had been shattered.
After the alley, she did her best to avoid being alone with Bruce, irrationally conflating her emotional breakdown with his presence. She got so good at ignoring Bruce's increasingly troubled looks and brushing off his overtures to comfort her that she stopped noticing them altogether.
Alfred was more subtle in his concern. Surreptitiously, he left snacks and pots of hot tea for her. She had no appetite but he seemed to suss out the things she couldn't resist. He left an huge assortment of colored pencils and adult coloring books for her on Helena's play table.
"It'll be good for your hand," he said kindly.
She and Helena spent hours together, watching tv, reading, and coloring. Selina knew she was failing her daughter, especially when Helena looked at her with a concerned look that no three year old should have. "Why are you so sad, mommy?" she asked more than once. Selina hugged Helena to her but gave her no answer.
When Helena was asleep, Selina could let down her guard. She genuinely tried to be more lively for her daughter, tried to remember how she was with Helena before That Morning. But trying to be what she once was exhausted her and she was hard pressed to recall how she was then.
After Helena was asleep in bed, Selina often found herself on the expansive balcony of the Penthouse. The first few times, Bruce hovered nearby hoping she would invite him to sit with her. She, however, needed her solitude more than she needed him.
Mostly, they left her alone, giving her space. The only intrusion was when Alfred quietly brought her a pot of tea, always with a matching tea cup. He set the tray on the little table next to the chair she had dragged over to sit next to the railing. She liked the quiet of the night and the coolness of the air. Leaning back in the comfortable patio chair, she could let herself almost forget all her turmoil as she basked in her solitude.
Some nights she slipped out, roaming her old haunts.
"Do you have a tracker on me?" She asked him one night as she sat on the edge of her old building. She looked out over the neighborhood she had once called home. Nothing on the street had changed.
"No," he said, sitting down beside her. "I just figured out where you'd be."
She looked at him suspiciously.
"This isn't the first place I checked," he admitted.
Selina stood up, stretching her still achy muscles. She walked along the edge of the building, keeping her eye on the street below.
"Getting your balance back?" he asked, sounding uneasy.
"My control."
When she reached the corner of the building, she stepped closer to the edge. She wanted to lift her arms, much as she used to do when she was about to jump off the building to land on her fire escape.
"God, I want this thing off!" She eyed the cast that weighed her down in so many ways. The cast had become the bane of her existence. A constant reminder of things she didn't want to be reminded about.
"A few more weeks," Bruce replied, looking back down at the street. Even at the late hour there was much activity.
"That's what the doctor said last time," Selina said, trying to keep the whine out of her voice.
"Selina," he said, coming to stand behind her on the ledge. Unlike her, he had no difficulty with balance. "What do you think about trying to find the police officers...that picked you up?"
Selina stiffened. "Who cares about them?"
"I care," Bruce said "Ever since Daryl told me about what those cops did to you, I can't stop thinking about them. I imagine them living on a boat, drinking with old buddies, living the good life of a retired cop. It's driving me crazy to think that there's two cops out there not paying for what they did!"
"Then go do something about it!"Selina cried, turning away from him. "I won't stop you but I'm not going to help. I'm over all that."
"How could you be?" Bruce gently grabbed her arms, turning her to face him. "They sold you!"
"I know that!"
He looked away from her, taking a moment to control his frustration. "They need to spend the rest of their days in prison."
Selina scoffed. "Good luck with that!"
"What about the other kids? Was Oliver one of them?"
"Do not bring him up to me, Bruce!" Selina felt her eyes fill with tears. Abruptly, she pulled away from him which caused her to briefly lose her balance. Before he could reach out for her, she righted herself then jumped down from the ledge, landing on the fire escape. Even with her one arm in the cast she made it down the four flights quickly and easily. The ladder that should have extended to the ground was broken. Getting down with one hand proved problematic until she felt Bruce's hands on waist, lifting her down to the ground.
"Don't say anything!" Selina said. "Please!"
They walked through her old neighborhood not talking until Bruce took her arm, stopping her. They stood near a dilapidated playground. It was a sorry place during the day but in the night, it exuded a sense of danger. At least to most folks in Gotham with any sense.
They stood under one of the few working street lamps. In the light, she could see Bruce's face so clearly. Unlike her, he had not been getting much sleep and it showed.
"Selina..." he said. "I'm the last person in the world to give advice on dealing with grief. Do you want to see someone about all this?"
"Therapy?" Selina asked, surprised that he suggested such a thing. "Bruce, we don't do therapy."
"Well, I did," Bruce said. "I saw plenty when I was growing up."
"And how did that work out for you?"
"Not bad in the end," he said, looking at her meaningfully.
"I'll be fine, Bruce," Selina said folding her arms which was awkward with the cast.
"It's in there...it festers," Bruce said. "What happened to you…"
"What? Getting Ollie killed?"
"No!" Bruce exclaimed. "That wasn't your fault!"
"Getting my ass kicked six ways to Sunday?" She asked as she looked warily at two men who were eying them from the park.
Bruce took her arm, propelling her to move quickly away.
"We could take them," Selina said. "It might be fun."
"Would it though?" Bruce asked as he looked behind them. The two men had opted to stay in the park.
They continued walking. As they entered a better part of town, their pace slowed to a leisurely stroll.
"Besides," Selina said, continuing their conversation. "I figure I deserved a good beating."
"How so?"
"You know…"
Bruce stopped. Selina turned to face him. It was something she had wanted to say for a long time. Something that had never been resolved. At least for her.
"You shouldn't feel guilty about that," he said. "I've never expected…"
"Oh, I know, but you should," Selina said. She forced herself to not look away.
"You had your reasons. I get that."
"You're too forgiving," Selina said. "Do you have any idea how hard it is being with someone you did something awful to? Sometimes I look at you and I so clearly remember leading you down there. I knew what you were up against."
"I did ask," he said, trying to lighten the mood.
She glared at him, not at all pleased with his attempt at levity.
"What would you have me do?"
"Stop being so goddamned nice to me!" Selina exclaimed. "I turned you into Bane, I left you to die there!"
"Selina, I made my peace with that in the pit," he said, softly. "I wouldn't have found you after if I had a grudge. I know they threatened you."
They had. Bane himself had loomed over her, filling her small apartment with his menacing presence. She had no great love for the Batman so it wasn't a difficult decision.
"I didn't know it was you," she said.
"Would you have done it differently?"
"I might have warned you,"
"Selina, the way I was feeling, I probably would have gone ahead and met him."
She moved away, signalling she didn't want to talk anymore. They continued their walk passing through the
"About Ollie...It's not your fault, Selina," he said, quietly.
She looked away as tears sprang to her eyes.
"Oh, but it is," Selina said, bitterly. "It very much is."
"No-"
"He shouldn't have been there," she said, her voice full of emotion. "I knew better than to take him for back up. I got him killed."
"No, Sykes killed him."
"Yes but he shouldn't have been there if not for me. I rushed us. I took him there. Me, who damn well knew that Ollie simply is not equipped to deal with people like that."
"You can't blame yourself, Selina," he said gently.
She didn't doubt his sincerity. He'd been plagued by guilt for his parents deaths' for years. She wasn't ready to let go of her guilt. The truth was that she absolutely should not have involved Ollie in her scheme to get Wackford. It was too much for him. He not only sacrificed his newfound sobriety but his life. For her.
As they walked, Selina told Bruce about Ollie. How she and Daryl, sensing vulnerability, had first bullied the small and shy Ollie. When Daryl's mom, Angela, figured out what they were doing there was hell to pay. With tears in her eyes, Angela implored them to watch out for the little boy with the horrible parents. They hadn't understood then why she was so upset but as they came to understood what was going on, about the horror of Ollie's existence, they banded together to protect him, keep him as safe as they could.
"He was afraid of you, you know," Selina said.
"What do you mean?"
"Ollie was afraid of Batman," she said. "Afraid he was going to get him. Hang him from a roof."
Bruce looked alarmed. "I wouldn't…"
"Criminals at the bottom of the food chain were not what you were going for," Selina said. "I understood that, he didn't. He just saw himself as one of the city's undesirables."
She didn't tell him that Ollie had thought very highly of the Joker. Believed the Joker was one of them, a product of the insanity of Gotham's slums. She herself had been impressed with Joker. That is, until, he murdered that poor scared guy on tv.
Eventually, Bruce took her to his favorite roof atop an old Gothic style building. Sitting on the ledge with their feet dangling, Selina looked out over the city as Bruce kept his eyes on her. She wondered if he thought she was going to jump. All the things that had happened to her, she had never once been suicidal.
Selina breathed deep, relishing the cool night air. It really was beautiful up here. Dawn was still an hour away and the city was at its most quiet. The peace of the night only interrupted by the with the stray sounds of the city below them.
"I keep looking at those pictures of my mother," Bruce said, breaking the silence. "Seeing images of this beautiful woman that I hardly remember. She's so...vivid. I'm absurdly grateful for them and I feel awful about that. They were taken without her permission, stolen from her and I can't stop looking at them."
She turned to him, seeing him in the nighttime lights of the building. "You shouldn't feel bad about that." The dead don't care, she thought.
"The photos shouldn't exist at all," Bruce said,
"But they do and you have so few of them." she said then noticed she had placed her hand on his.
"They are wrong," Bruce replied. "And when I think of him looking at her…"
"Forget about him," Selina said, looking away, her gaze not seeing the expansive view of the city. "I have."
"Have you?" He asked, unconvinced. "Have you really?"
"Do you mean have I forgotten I was raped by Wackford when I was twelve?" She asked, purposefully being harsh with him.
"I don't think you're over that as much as like to think you are," he said, squeezing her hand gently. "I can't imagine what a devastating experience that was."
She pulled her hand away. "It's not even in the top five bad things to happen to me."
And that's where they differed. He had one major tragedy that broke him while she had had many misfortunes, as she thought of them, that shaped her. She'd never really felt broken. Until now.
"The clean slate erased my identity but it didn't erase my past. Even if I pretended it did," Selina said. "I let myself forget who I really am. Now I remember."
"Who are you?" He asked, looking at her. When she refused to look at him, he gently touched her face, nudging it to turn to him.
"I'm a thief and a killer, Bruce," Selina said, looking him directly in the eye. "I told you about Angela, Daryl's mother. That the cops never found out who killed her... Well, we knew. We both had seen him the night he killed her. He wasn't one of her regulars but we'd seen him a few times before. So for about a month, every night I fixed up and waited for him on Angela's corner. One night he finally came by. I took him to an abandoned building where Daryl and Ollie waited. I led him to a room then locked him in...Sound familiar?"
He didn't answer so Selina continued. "We killed him. And, his body is still rotting at the bottom of an elevator shaft."
"How old were you?"
"Thirteen," she replied. "I also killed that pimp that Toby so kindly mentioned in front of the cops at Ollie's memorial. So, yeah, I've killed."
She looked at Bruce who was looking down at the street below. He couldn't be surprised by her confession.
"No innocents." He stated, looking back at her.
"No," she replied. "Everyone I killed had it coming. But that's not what you do, is it? You have a code."
"I do, but if you think I'm judging you for things in your past, you're wrong."
It wasn't his judgement that was the problem but she didn't tell him that.
One evening not too long after her rooftop confession, Selina took the monorail, two buses and a cab to the Towers. It was not quite full dark so was able to persuade a cab driver to drop her off near the Quad. As the cab sped off, Selina had the most peculiar feeling. Fear.
The Towers could be a scary place but she'd never felt fear. As she approached the tower, she was very aware that she was alone, unarmed, and still compromised from her injuries. She wasn't in any shape to fight someone off.
With relief, she saw Daryl approach. It was the first time they'd had a chance to talk. The first time since they were ready to talk.
When he walked up to her, they stood, quietly staring at each other.
"You're looking better," he said.
Her surface injuries had all faded, save for the gash on her forehead which was turning into a lovely scar,
"You're hand will be okay?" He asked, nodding to the cast.
"I'm worried my pickpocketing days may be over."
"Nah, you'll figure something out." Daryl dropped the cigarette, stubbing it out with his foot. They went back to the uncomfortable quiet until Selina spoke again.
"Daryl…I'm so sorry," Selina said, "I shouldn't have…"
He was quiet. She was afraid he was going to agree with her.
"I don't think you should blame yourself, See," Daryl finally said. "I was mad at you. Really mad but it had to go down that way. If it had been you...well, we both know he wouldn't have survived that."
"I know that, I keep reminding myself but...I let you down. You've never let me down."
"That day…" Daryl reminded her.
"How were you supposed to know? We were stupid," she said. "We didn't know any better."
"Ollie did," Daryl said, quietly.
"Yeah, he felt worse about it than I did."
"He never got over that."
"No, he didn't," Selina agreed. "You told Bruce about the cops."
"Yep."
"Why?"
"Because I thought he might find out who those guys were!" Daryl did not look the least bit abashed and "He seems pretty tight with the police. Wouldn't it be nice if those guys got thrown in prison?"
"I just…" Selina paused as she watched a rat darted across the Quad. "I just don't like thinking about that day."
"Neither do I," he said gruffly.
Together, they went upstairs to their old room. The room that Ollie always felt safest in. He loved hiding out here, spending time with his friends.
From his backpack, Daryl withdrew a large tin box. He set it on the rickety table where they both stared at it.
"Just leave him here?" Selina asked, taking his hand. "We could put him with your mom."
"This was his place," Daryl said. "He loved this god awful room."
They decided on a cabinet that had been his spot of choice for whatever drugs he had been hoarding. Sure enough, when they opened the door, they found a few baggies that they put in with him.
"C'mon let's go," Daryl said. "You shouldn't even be here."
"What do you mean?"
"This isn't you anymore."
"Are you saying I don't belong here?"
"Yeah," he said. "Neither do I."
In her Camaro, he drove her back to the Penthouse. He pulled up to the front entrance of the posh hotel.
"He's not so bad...For a rich guy," Daryl said before she got out of the car.
"He deserves better," Selina said.
"I did not just hear that from you."
"No, I mean better as in...he deserves someone like him. Educated, professional, a regular person."
"Uh huh," Daryl muttered.
Selina got out of the car.
"He's not your parents, Selina," Daryl said before she could close the door.
"You think I don't know that?"
"I'm not sure you do," he replied before peeling off, earning a few frowns from the stuck up hotel guests.
Selina found herself in a strangely isolated place. One of her own making. She began to feel like a drag for everyone. She couldn't explain that she was simply unable to get herself out of that room, couldn't unsee what happened to Ollie. When she did start to get past it, guilt brought her back.
It had been almost two months since That Morning, as Selina referred to it. She no longer felt like she was walking around a nightmare; she had woken up and was facing reality.
Bruce's India project was nearing completion. He was expected to go back to India, he and Lucius Fox were meeting with Raj and Gunjan.
"Lucius can take care of this," Bruce said, not wanting to leave her.
"No, he can't," Selina replied firmly. "This is your baby, you figured this out and you should be there with Raj and Gunjan. It's a big deal for them. A very big deal for their city. They would be so disappointed for you not to go."
"Come with me," Bruce said. "You and Helena."
"I can't…"
"Selina…"
"Not now…"
The India trip had not been mentioned again. He was due to leave the next morning and would be gone for at least two weeks. Raj had brokered deals with other towns in the region that could well benefit from the new technology.
Selina was looking forward to more solitude.
"That's the reporter?" She asked Alfred who looked at her with surprise.
These days she was curious about nothing. She couldn't even be bothered to care about Bruce's efforts in finding the other men in Wackford's sinister circle. When Bruce had told her of his belief in Miriam Wackford's complicity she felt not a sliver of surprise. Of course the rich wife would protect her husband and her social standing.
"Yes, Ms. Victoria Vale," Alfred answered. "She's done an excellent job at identifying Wackford's cohorts. She has solid leads, good sources. The story should be made public soon."
Selina was surprised to see the woman at the Penthouse. Surprised that Bruce had trusted the reporter enough to bring her to his home, trusted that she would protect his identity as an anonymous source to some very scandalous allegations.
From the top of the stairs, Selina watched them as they discussed the case. Vale, looking very chic and professional, seemed quite entranced with Bruce, touching his arm, lightly flirting with him. The woman was educated, bright, and confidently sexy. She even managed to make Bruce smile at a joke.
Vale's eyes widened as she noticed Selina descend the staircase. Dressed in black yoga pants and a black cami top, Selina presented a picture of casualness. Her long hair was up in a careless ponytail and she wore no makeup.
Bruce's eyes lit up as he saw her. She avoided his hand as made introductions, offering it instead to the reporter. Shaking Selina's hand, Vale looked disappointed to meet her. Bruce did not seem to notice.
As Bruce and Vicky resumed their conversation, Selina listened, watching her carefully. Now that Selina had joined them, Vale was all business but she kept darting glances at Selina, trying to figure out who she was to Bruce.
When Bruce walked her to the elevator, Selina went out to the balcony. She looked out into the night and waited for him to come to her.
"So…" Selina said to him when he came to stand next to her. "Vicky seemed nice."
"She's doing a good job with the investigation. She found a solid, verifiable link between Senator Brass and Wackford."
"Hmmm...Do you like her?"
Bruce looked at her, warily.
"What are you doing?"
"Asking you a question."
He stuffed his hands in his trouser pockets as he regarded her, trying to figure out what she was up to.
"Jealous?" He asked.
"No."
"Could you pretend to be?"
"Why?" She leaned her hip against the railing as she faced him.
"Selina, what are you doing?"
"Trying to fix things for you."
"Trying to fix…" He stared at her blankly.
"It's for your own good, Bruce." Selina said matter of factly. "I'll just keep dragging you down."
Watching Bruce and Vale, it had become so clear to her that the sexy, professional, educated woman would be just what Bruce needed. Someone like Rachel.
He laughed,humorlessly. "You're doing this. You're setting me up with another woman."
"Yes," she said. "A woman like that is who you should have ended up with."
He knew she was thinking about Rachel. A ghost that never really hung between them but was there nevertheless.
"That was a fantasy, Selina," Bruce said. "A link to a happier time in my life. I see that now. You once accused me of wanting to live my parents lives. And you were right but I've realized that's not me. I don't want that."
"What do you want, Bruce?" As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she regretted them.
"I want you."
"I'm all wrong for you," she said gently.
"What are you talking about?" He asked, his voice rising in anger.
"The only thing between us is…" She said, Her implication is their physical attraction that has never waned.
"I thought we had a daughter between us."
Selina's eyes hardened. "And we're supposed to keep going on so she can have the illusion of a happy family?"
"It wasn't an illusion a few months ago," he said.
"We were happy because we were being the people we wanted to be," Selina said. "Not the people we really are."
"I don't know what that's supposed to mean."
"I'm just seeing things very clearly now."
"Are you?" Bruce scoffed. "I'm glad one of us is."
"We were living a dream, Bruce," Selina said. "The last four years were not reality."
"Helena's not real enough for you, Selina?"
"Of course she is!" Selina replied, a spark of anger penetrating her apathy. "You know what I mean."
"No, I don't," Bruce said as he ran a hand through his hair.
"What is real is this: I'm a thief and a murderer, I'm a high school dropout, I've been to prison. Several times. All of that is so amazingly incompatible with everything you are. Can't you see that?"
"I don't care about all that."
"Of course you do," Selina said "You're you!"
"We'll talk about this when I get back," he said, sounding exasperated. "You need to think about what you're saying."
He walked away from her, heading to the door. He was angry and she was so...empty.
"I know exactly what I'm saying!" Selina called out to him just before he opened the door.
Instead of opening the door, he turned around, walking back to her.
"Bruce, I'm not trying to hurt you," she said. "I just think-"
"I love you, Selina," Bruce said, interrupting her.
Selina stared at him, shocked he'd actually said it.
"No," she said, shaking her head. "You don't."
"I love you," he said it again, taking her hand. "I want us to get married."
"Please stop!" Selina cried, pulling her hand away to tightly grasp the railing. "I don't want that. And you don't need that with me. We had a good run but it's over. You have to see that."
He shook his head.
"I'm trying to do the right thing here, Bruce!"
"You're not!" He exclaimed, his anger returning. "You're running away! You think you can just clean slate us away?"
"Of course not!"
He took a calming breath.
"I love you," Bruce continued after he controlled his anger. "I know your past, the things you've done. I don't care."
"But you do care!" Selina cried. "You're Gotham's Knight, incorruptible, honorable. You have a code. I violate that code in every way possible."
"I'm not the same person I was," he said. "You and Helena have changed me, made me better."
She shook her head, needing him to stop talking.
"Just like Helena and I have changed you…"
He kissed her. It was gentle but insistent, he needed her to understand how he felt. In that kiss, he communicated to her how he felt, what she meant to him.
She closed her eyes, kissing him back, wanting to feel something.
"What does that feel like?" He whispered against her lips.
"Yesterday," she replied sadly.
He backed away from her, she forced herself not to turn away from the hurt in his eyes. It was better this way, she told herself. Better for him.
When the door closed behind him, she turned away, tears streaming down her face.