Selina didn't know where she was going to wake up. The drunk tank was a possibility, or even a provisional cell at Blackgate. She'd had her name down in that hotel from hell since before she lost all of her baby teeth. A hospital was also possible, though less likely. Gotham was practically bankrupt and they weren't going to spend any more tax dollars on a wanted thief than they had to. Hospitals were for upstanding citizens; unapologetic criminals got the bare minimum. The higher-ups made sure that they wouldn't keel over and die, and then shipped them off to a dark hole where no one would be bothered with them again.
For the first time she could remember, Selina woke slowly. Her mind was humming well before she was able to open her eyes, though to her frustration it felt like every brain cell was operating in slow motion. Still, she managed to start routing three separate escape plans – two for police precincts, one for a hospital – before the world finally filtered into focus.
Selina had spent her whole life preparing. Preparing to run from cops, preparing to fight her way out of any corner, preparing the best way to pull off a heist. Her whole life was spent preparing for something or other.
She was not prepared to wake up in a bed. A cell, yeah; a hospital cot, absolutely, but not a bed. Not only a bed, but the biggest goddamn bed she'd ever seen in her life. White fluffy pillows and everything. For a moment, Selina wasn't sure that it hadn't all been a dream, but when she tried to sit up her shoulder screamed in protest and every breath still stung. So. Not a nightmare then. And she wasn't in jail, so obviously she was still in Wayne Manor.
"I would prefer prison," Selina muttered. She stilled, feeling wet hair fall on her shoulders. Hair that should have been dry and matted with blood. A quick inspection revealed that the cut on her forehead had been taped shut, and the bullet hole in her shoulder was stitched up and bandaged, the wrapping looping under her opposite arm and ending about halfway to her elbow. She didn't remember anyone setting her rib – the butler's little "military trick" had fractured it for sure – but her ribcage felt mostly intact. Selina scowled, feeling her skin crawl at the idea of someone fixing her up while she was passed out. She'd always done her own doctoring, not being able to go to the hospital when she got hurt. Well, hers and Ivy's. For all of her friend's strengths, she was a horrible caretaker. She was a holy terror with a needle and her bedside manner was nonexistent. For as long as she'd been on her own, Selina had always put herself back together again, and she bristled at the idea of someone else taking care of her because she couldn't.
Gingerly, Selina forced herself out of the bed, making sure that her legs could hold her before she took a step. She had no idea how long she'd been out, and that meant she has been there for too long. No doubt the cameras she'd had Manny turn back on had documented the entire altercation between her, Wayne, and Newman, and it was only a matter of time before the footage would be turned over to the police. To be honest, Selina wasn't sure why she hadn't already been arrested. She tested the door, rolling her eyes when it didn't give under her touch. There wasn't a door in Gotham that could keep her in, and this one was no different. Careful not to rip her stitches, Selina pulled out the pin that was holding the bandages together and stuck it into the lock. It wasn't the weirdest thing she'd ever used as a lockpick.
It didn't take much for the lock to spring free. Typical. Rich people usually spent ungodly amounts of money on external security, but didn't take any precautions on the inside, confident that no one would get in. Which meant cheap, easy-to-pick locks. Which made Selina's life much, much easier.
Barefoot and holding her side to keep the bandages and her rib in place, Selina padded down the hallway, consulting the mental map in her head as she made turn after turn towards the door. She had to get out of here, and soon. She was injured and unarmed, quite literally the most vulnerable she'd ever been in enemy territory, but still Selina soldiered on.
"Good, you're awake," a politely benign voice said from behind her. She turned slowly, pressing the pin against her forearm to conceal it. The butler, Alfred, was standing down the hall from her, holding a tray in old, veined hands. The man who'd shot Newman, the man who knew military methods of resuscitation was gone, replaced by an old English gentleman who was every inch the stereotype. Christ, there was even a silver dome covering whatever he had on the dish, it was like he was something out of a cartoon or old noir movie. "Spares me the trouble of hooking you up to an IV."
"You're one hell of a shot," Selina said lightly, eying the old man up and down. He didn't look threatening, but that, she supposed, was the point. She wouldn't have guessed that he could shoot a man in the back or reset bones, but clearly neither of those things were beyond him.
"Thank you," he said, inclining his head slightly and looking pleased. "Now, I would ask you what you were doing out of bed, but I had you pegged as a fussy patient."
"Well I saved your boy's life, you dug a bullet out of my shoulder, so I'd say we're about even. I'll be going." Selina turned and made as if to walk away when the soft voice sounded again.
"You will not."
"Yeah?" Selina challenged, turning back. "You going to stop me?"
"Well I daresay you would be more than a match for me, even injured, but yes, I am going to stop you. Or, rather, the police are." Selina stiffened, hating the threat, hating that she couldn't do anything to stop him even more. Still, something nagged at her.
"If you were going to call the cops, why didn't you while I was knocked out?" Selina demanded. "Surely that would be easier?"
"I don't want to call them at all," Alfred said, looking very slightly offended. Selina didn't think he could look more than slightly anything. His face seemed to be in a state of perpetual amusement, though whether that be from the fact that he was English or the years in service, she couldn't say. "You're my patient and I'm your doctor – or closest thing to – and you need to stay here until you heal. Only if you try to leave will the authorities be notified." So she was being held captive by an old man with a mean killshot in the house of a spoiled rich kid her employer very much wanted to assassinate. Fantastic.
"And then you'll just let me go?" Selina said, her eyebrows arching in disbelief. There was no way she was walking out the door without a fight or some sort of catch.
"Well like you said, you saved my boy," he said evenly, his tone never changing. "The whole of the manor is available to you – I assume that you know your way around. For obvious reasons, your weapons will be returned to you when you leave and not before. Try not to kill my charge so soon after saving his life, yes? I know he can be a…what's the American term? Pain in the arse."
"So I've got the run of the place, but I can't leave or you'll call the cops on me," Selina repeated, just once more for clarity. "Doesn't this feel a little Beauty and the Beast to you?"
"As long as you're not calling me the beast," he quipped and Selina was so startled that she couldn't help but laugh. So he could set bones, shoot, and had a sense of humor. Who would have guessed it? "Oh, and if you wouldn't mind putting that pin back into those bandages. We wouldn't want them coming undone now would we?" He smiled to himself and ambled down the hallway, no doubt to carry the tray to Wayne.
Alfred was good on his word. Nothing was closed off to her, except for the front door, and the security center, although Selina couldn't really begrudge him that. It was one thing to have a criminal running loose around his house; it was another thing altogether to have her watching them. The mansion really was beautiful, something she never really appreciated when she'd been casing the place. Enormous and lavish and beautiful. Selina wandered the hallways she'd memorized aimlessly, admiring the tasteful décor. Wayne's mother had been one hell of an interior decorator.
"People actually live like this," Selina said to herself, her voice echoing through the spacious halls. They had enough room to house half of the Narrows, servants to bring them food, security and safety and shelter beyond anything that Selina had ever dreamed of as a kid. And now, at least until she got better, it was all hers.
She hated it. She hated every inch of the huge, stupid place. She had known so many people who hadn't had anywhere to go in the winter, who'd died of hunger and cold, and yet here was the most obnoxious display of wealth she'd ever seen. Any of the crap that lined bookcases and decorated the walls could feed and clothe her people for months. Christ, no wonder the city was so bankrupt when the distribution of wealth was this fucking off-kilter. And worst of all, Selina was a part of it. These people, these residents of White Hill, they were all one of two things: Old money or gang money. Gang money was the worse of the two, for sure. So much worse, because the gangs stayed in power by instilling fear. They kept the poor violent and desperate, and the rich scared enough to keep their mouths shut and look the other way.
And Selina had thrived off of the gang lifestyle, thrived because she was smart and fast and the very, very best at stealing. Taking advantage of her own people by working for Falcone and Gerard and everyone else profiting from their collective poverty and damn bad luck. She'd been jumping through hoops her entire life, just playing the game. Helping the rich get richer and making sure that anyone down and out stayed that way. Perpetuating a system that had been trying to kill her since her mother died. And here was another fucking game for her to play, to appease the rich and the bored. Look at the criminal, trapped in her cage. We'll feed her and make her better and make her owe us, and watch her dance in the meanwhile.
That was the worst of it; knowing that she'd come out of this owing Wayne something. Even after she'd risked her life to save his, somehow this backwards world always managed to screw her. Because she'd almost died, and part of her wished that she had died, and since they didn't call the police, Selina would forever be in their debt. She would always be looking over her shoulder, waiting for them to call her in like a trained dog.
Exactly what Gerard had been doing her whole life.
Selina was so goddamn tired of games.
Selina hid in her room during the day, catching hours of sleep here and there. She tossed around escape plans, but she was still too injured to make a clean getaway, especially if they had the police on speed-dial. She only opened the door for Alfred, to allow him to change her bandages and to make sure that everything was healing properly. He brought her meals as well, but Selina refused them, keeping the door locked. No doubt he had a key, but the old butler never pushed. Her hunger strike was a small rebellion and it would end inevitably, but for the time being it was the only way she could pretend she had any control at all.
Though she kept the doors locked during the day, Selina crept out every night. Not for food, but looking for a way out. Her things had been taken from her, and with them, her phone. She'd promised Ivy an explanation before all of this had happened, and Manny knew that the last place she'd been was Wayne Manor. Nothing good would happen if Ivy found her here, and Ivy was definitely looking. Selina didn't even want to think about what would happen if Gerard called her in and she didn't answer. And naturally, all of the phones in the house were fingerprint encrypted, so that she couldn't make any calls without being in the system. So every night Selina stepped over the covered tray that Alfred had left outside her door and picked through the house, trying to find a phone that was unlocked while staying out of sight of the cameras.
Which was how she stumbled upon the gym. She'd known that it existed, memorized it on the blueprints as a possible escape route, but Selina hadn't imagined that it would be so big. A stupid and naive supposition she realized now - bluebloods did everything to excess, why wouldn't Wayne's home gym be reminiscent of an Olympic gymnastics training facility on steroids. There were high bars, ropes, even something that looked a whole lot like an aerial obstacle course. And that was just what she could see. Selina didn't turn the lights on, still stubbornly adamant about wanting to avoid detection, but the room was enormous and her night vision only allowed so much.
Seized by an insane, reckless impulse, Selina leaped at one of the ropes and started climbing. The rational part of her knew that this was dangerous and stupid. She should be trying to find an untapped phone, not bothering with an obstacle course, not to mention that she was still too injured to be trying something this dangerous.
"Note to self: Don't fall," Selina murmured when she finally hauled herself to the top. She stood precariously on a thin beam, but it was nothing compared to some ledges she'd made use of in the city. And while the height was enough to send a dizzy thrill of adrenaline buzzing through her veins, it was still smaller than the shortest building. But her still-wounded shoulder protested from the abuse and her healing ribs were throbbing. If she fell... She wouldn't fall.
Slowly at first, and then faster, Selina picked her way over the course, ducking over obstacles and jumping from ledges when she couldn't climb between them, and all in the dark. It was more expansive than she'd thought, winding over the ceiling and overlooking the entire gym. There was a boxing ring in the corner and an exit in the back with blue light seeping in from under the door that Selina suspected led to a swimming pool. Unbelievable. Who the hell needed a swimming pool in their house?
She was almost halfway through the obstacle course when the door creaked open and the lights flicked on. Taken off-guard, Selina stumbled, nearly pitching herself off of a beam before she managed to steady herself. Still, she couldn't help a small noise of panic from escaping before she clamped her teeth together.
"Hello?" Wayne's voice came from somewhere below her. Shit, Selina thought furiously. "Selina?" She didn't move, still holding onto the naïve hope that he wouldn't see her and leave. "How the hell did you even get up there?"
"Christ you're a pain in my ass," Selina griped, stretching so that she could look him in the eye. He'd already seen her. She refused to let him think that she was hiding.
"Says the girl playing in the rafters." So maybe this wasn't part of the obstacle course. Whatever, it was good practice anyhow. "What the hell are you even doing up there anyway?"
"Bored." Selina said, injecting as much casual distain into her voice as possible. "Not much to do when I'm being held against my will."
"Nothing but check all the phones?" Wayne said coolly, a stupid grin on his face. "They're all tapped, by the way, so you can stop. Who are you so desperate to make a call to anyway? Your employer in the Falcone family?" Selina made a face, dropping down to a lower beam to glare at him better. She liked being this high up; for once she was taller than everyone.
"If you honestly think I'm going to answer any of that, you're dumber than you look."
"I'll trade you," Wayne offered. "Phone call for answers."
"How do you know I won't tell someone where I am?" Wayne smiled wider at that and Selina wanted to smack him.
"Something tells me you don't want anyone to know that you're here." Well, he wasn't wrong. Selina paused for a moment, weighing her options. She didn't want to tell him anything, but she had to get a call out to Ivy. She'd be beside herself by now, certain that Selina was dead, and more importantly, Selina needed to keep her off of the right track.
"Fine. Phone call first." Selina expected an argument, but Wayne pulled out his cell without question, tossing it to her.
"It's a secure line. Can't be tracked." Wayne added. Selina didn't doubt it but ignored him, dialing Ivy's number.
"What?" The redhead snapped into the phone on the third ring. Selina felt a pang of guilt in her chest; Ivy sounded like hell.
"V, it's me." Selina said softly, angling herself away from Wayne as much as she could one-handed.
"Selina." Ivy said, breathing a sigh of relief. "Jesus Christ, Selina what is wrong with you?!" She screeched. "It's been over a week! No call, no note... I would've taken a fucking smoke signal at this point! I thought you were dead!"
"Not dead." Selina promised, cutting into her tirade.
"Then where the hell are you?" Ivy demanded. "Are you safe? Do you need extraction? I've got new bombs cooked up that could level a skyscraper... Selina please tell me you're okay."
"I'm safe." Selina said evasively. "I'm not hurt and I'll be home soon." Not as hurt, she amended wryly, touching the bandages wrapping her shoulder and chest.
"Where are you? I'm coming to get you."
"V." Selina said, trying to keep calm and not get sucked into Ivy's whirlwind of emotions.
"God damn it, the one time I let you out of my sight you disappear for a week. I should have come with you when you left – you were in such a weird mood – God I am so glad you're even alive, but come on Selly – "
"Ivy!" Selina hissed, raising her voice a touch. "I'm fine. I'm out of town, and this is a secure line, so you can't track it. I'll keep my promise, just wait till I get home."
"Swear you're okay." Ivy demanded, her voice cracking harshly. "Swear on something important."
"On my T-Bird and your lipstick, I'm okay," Selina said, invoking one of Ivy's oldest inventions. Aptly named Kiss of Death, it had gotten them both out of trouble more than once. "I love you. I've gotta go."
"I didn't think you loved anyone." Wayne said when Selina hung up.
"Cute." She swung herself into a sitting position and dropped the phone back down to him. "One question." Selina braced herself. She'd opened herself up to anything. Who she was, who she worked for, why. None were doors she particularly wanted to open, and somehow Selina knew that if he asked her, she'd tell him the truth.
"So knives and climbing. Want to explain that to me?" Selina breathed a tiny sigh of relief and looked away so that he couldn't see her smiling.
"That's two questions, idiot."