This story starts after 5x11. Just pretend the finale never happened.

Four Names for Love

(agape)

I love you
unconditionally
this heart carries on,
beating into the abyss
an echo, enduring.

— one, two, three, four - a.j. (via ibuzoo)

That night Selina walked on the dirty Gotham streets like a ghost. She had never been a romantic person, always the cynical; she would think so little of those women that cried about their heartache, who acted like a break up was the end of the world. It's just a man, she would scoff, don't be so dramatic. But then again, she never thought that would once be her, she never thought that she would fall in love.

She have been in that place before, she have been abandoned before, but now she felt the eerie sensation that such pain should have killed her, it made no sense that she was still alive. She felt worse than when she couldn't walk. Because that time she was suffering for something someone had done to her, but this, this she had done to herself. And each breath was pure torture, each thump of her heart was scorning her, she should be dead but she kept living, agonizing breath after agonizing breath, tormenting heartbeat after tormenting heartbeat.

She walked for so long that she reached the harbour, the waters were dark and wild, the wind messing her already frizzy hair and making the whole world taste like salty tears. As she looked away from Gotham she promised herself that she would never do that again. She would never get attached, she would never need anyone that badly, she would never let herself commit that mistake again.

The next day she woke up with a huge headache after all her crying, she was freezing from sleeping in the streets and she was very, very angry. Mostly at herself, but she wish more than anything that there was some way to get back at Bruce after what he did to her. She was a revengeful person, even somewhat petty, and now, she was also a woman scorned, what a cliché.

As she dragged herself back to Heaven, ignoring the happy people on the streets still cheering after the end of the terrible regime of terror that oppressed Gotham for such a long time. Those were the best times of her life, what that said about her? As she walked Selina daydreamed a different reality in which she was the one that get to leave him, for once, she wanted to be the one that left. Or, at least, she wished she got there in time, not to stop him, but to say to his face what coward he was. Protecting her, he said in that ridiculous letter, ridiculous, she didn't need his stupid protection. And how come he was protecting her leaving her behind on her own? But it all circled back to herself, her own self-hatred for letting him do that to her. How could she betray herself like that?

And what was driving her insane, what hurt her the most was that she knew, deep down that there was no way she could get back at him. There was no way she could just leave him the way he had left her. He changed her, with his stupid morals, his hero complex, his good doer bullshit, he was always pushing her to be what he considered better, to be the Selina he wanted her to be. And despite all her attitude she had tried really hard to not let him down, she really tried to rise to his level of perfection, and all for what?

She could never go back to what she was before him, that Selina was lost, in some deep fundamental level there was a part of her that would always be his doing, it would always belong to him.

Selina avoided anyone that could stop her, ignored people calling her name, people asking her about him as she climbed the fire escape ladder to the room that was officially his, but that they had been sharing for all those months of No Man's Land since she left the hospital. There was pieces of the life they lead all around the tiny room, the lie they lead. Her boots haphazardly lying on the floor, one of his turtlenecks carefully folded on a chair, her whip hanging on a hook on the wall, a pile of his books next to his side of the bed, the messy sheets. Looking at that she felt the numbness that held her through her way to there lift and the anger waves crashing over her whole body, she was shaking so hard her knees started to give. She shoved his stupid books off the table. Threw on the walls the electronic junk that he was bringing home all the time to try to fix – that she would made fun of him for –, each crash making her cry louder, throw harder, until she had nothing left to throw and no strength to keep standing.

As she finally let herself fall, she took the silky dark fabric of his turtleneck to her face, breathing in deeply the lingering smell, wetting it with her tears before ripping it in tiny little scraps she swore to herself that was the last time, she would never again cry for Bruce Wayne.

Hi! Here I am with a quarantine WIP. This story will be divided in four parts, the first two are smaller, and then we will have a timeskip of ten years like on the show. This first must take just one more chapter, I'm usually an long chapter writer, but I decided to post once a week (Tuesdays) and to make it possible I'll do smaller pieces. I might even post more than once a week, but Tuesdays are the commitment I am making with myself. The next bit will be less angsty and will have a little bit more of action. See you soon.