November blue skies are late this morning. Sunlight peaks through the cold clouds and makes golden streaks across the floor, glinting off the balcony rails. Steam rises from concrete grounds below, creating the haze that cleans Gotham's air.
Selina walks out of her bedroom, clicking her tongue at Lilly Mae and Saavik (Saavik, what kind of name is that, she thinks) who follow her, awaiting their breakfast. Running her hands through her hair to straighten out the bed-head pixie cut, she pours the kibble into the pink bling-speckled bowls, whispers invitations to the cats, "Here you go, cuties." She pours coffee she had the machine make fifteen minutes previously on schedule, more than she usually makes. Tim is a coffee addict.
She takes a sip of the coffee and then looks all around, noting the events still left from last night: plates that held sandwiches and chips and salsa, blankets sprawling over the couch, Tim's iPhone on the countertop.
A prized possession, Tim's phone. Selina picks it up and notices the scratches on the back, slight chip in the top corner of the glass screen. Before turning in last night, she peeked into Tim's room, pulled the blankets closer around the boy. She frowned at the skin pulling tight against bones, the scars that tied him together, but felt a little more consoled by the slow even breathing. The limp hands. The stillness.
He was comfortable in the yoga pants, even if they were too long, and he did need a pin in the right side of the top seams. Selina smiles; she meant them for Bruce, thinking that he'd look cute in yoga pants.
Tim is cuter than her imagination.
She had leaned over him, and as her lips pressed against Tim's forehead, her hand closed over the iPhone, slipping it in her pajamas pocket. Whispered, "Sleep tight, kitten."
She had turned the phone off. Neither one of them needed any calls inquiring to Tim's location. What he was doing. Who he was with.
It wouldn't look good.
And Selina is having trouble trusting Bruce right now.
When an insecure teenager comes to your apartment and breaks at the sight of kitten, you've got to wonder what he faces on a regular basis. Who he faces.
Selina shakes her head. Teenagers aren't supposed to have problems like that, they're not supposed to be wondering where to go when their adoptive dad tells them to leave. Oh yeah, Selina heard the whole story, worked it out of the boy over the sandwiches and salsa, deduced whatever else Tim only murmured about. She watched the way Tim devoured the sandwiches, like he hadn't eaten in days, like he felt like eating just now.
And thinking about it this morning, Selina decides to make pancakes.
They might as well splurge.
They deserve it.
Selina gets out the frying pans, finds some pancake mix at the bottom of her refrigerator, whips it all up, lets the cats lick her fingers after she tasted the batter. She separates a little of it, grips a handful of chocolate chips and throws them in, "Get out of my way, cat," as she almost burns one and Lilly Mae drags herself lazily away from the front of the stove. Selina can almost see magic rising with the glorious smells, wonders if another constellation will be added to the nighttime sky because of its power. "I've even got some jelly which is fantazmo on pancakes," she tells Saavik with the squeaky tone only reserved for kittens.
She ought to try the voice on Tim.
She heaps three, four (and a half) on Tim's plate, guesses she'll wake him up. Cuts two pieces of her own pancake and gives them Lilly Mae and Saavik.
And then the phone rings. Too loud, too shrill.
"Don't wake up Tim," she growls to the phone, jumping over the cats and rushing to pick it up. "Hello?" she hisses.
"Selina?"
Selina stiffens. "...Dickie?"
"Hey, do you have any idea where Tim is?"
Oh yeah, he's asleep and he's had the most sleep since he was probably knocked out by some thug in the streets, why do you care-
"He hasn't been answering his phone," Dick sounds nervous, a fearful inflection in his voice that Selina hasn't heard in a while. "I've been trying to get him all night."
Selina works her jaw to one side and feels...dark. Like a storm cloud suddenly came and the wind is starting to pick up. "Where's Big Daddy?"
Dick doesn't answer right away, pondering the timing, the logistics of the question, Selina knows. He's been living under Batman's roof for long enough. "He's not….around."
"What's he up to?" Selina doesn't really have to ask, she knows he's obsessing over a new crusade to save the life of his very dead child. But she feels curious. Wonders if she can present a question into Dick's mind: is Bruce caring about Tim's whereabouts any more than you are?
It's like Inception.
"He's-he's working on stuff, I guess- why do you care?!" Dick suddenly asks and Selina's eyebrows jerk up.
"Well if he's concerned about Tim, then that means that it's more of an emergency than you think."
Bruce's definition of emergency has been changed, you know.
"Selina, do you know where Tim is?" Dick repeats, frustrated. He's dying to get off the phone.
"No," Selina replies firmly. "No, I don't know where he is."
There's rustling in the guest bedroom. A kitten stretching, flexing the developing claws, relaxing again.
"Okay," Dick says after a pause, softer this time. "Okay. Thanks, Selina."
"Anytime, Dick," Selina smiles.
Anytime at all.
She hangs up the phone and sighs.
Time to wake up Tim.
She picks up Tim's iPhone on the counter. Slips it back into her pocket.
She walks carefully into the bedroom, smiling when she sees the blankets all tangled up, the black hair spreading over the pillow, eyes still closed. Lilly Mae walks behind Selina, opting to get up on the bed and curling next to Tim's leg.
Selina sits on the bed and presses a hand to Tim's shoulder, careful of a new scar that is a little discolored. "Hey, Timmy, time to get up, sweetheart."
She leans over just like last night, and with a kiss on Tim's head, puts the phone to its former place. Tilted a little. Close to the lamp.
Tim frowns, taking a deep breath and his eyes open just slightly, unsure about so much light. The sun is pooling across the sheets. Vivid blue eyes coming to life, looking at her. "Hello," he murmurs. Sweetly, red flushing back into his face.
Shyness remembered, though forgotten last night.
"Hello yourself," Selina says softly. "I made you some breakfast, and you're gonna eat it. No questions asked."
Tim smiles, eyes closing again, fingers curling into the sheets. "Of course I am; everything smells like heaven."
"Dang right," Selina says, moving her hand down to his, giving a small squeeze. "Wakey-wakey."
"M'kay," Tim mutters, sitting up and combing his hair back with his fingers. He squints at the bright light and looks all around, as if he's trying to remember everything. His eyebrows tilt up in tinges of anxiety at the thought of the big manor far away. Slow frown appearing at the sight of the closet.
Maybe he'll consider pushing furniture in front it.
Selina stands up, glancing behind her as she walks out of the bedroom. Tim picks Lilly Mae up, holding her close to his chest, kissing the top of her velvet black head. His hand swipes the iPhone, thumb presses the home button.
Teenage instinct.
Selina walks to the kitchen, pours syrup over the pancakes, listens to Tim talking to the cat.
"Oh, no, did my battery run out overnight?" he asks Lilly Mae. Who must know.
And then Selina pauses.
She turned the phone off. And didn't turn it back on.
She didn't cover her tracks.
"Yay, we still have battery," Tim rejoices. Lilly Mae must be thrilled.
Tim walks slowly out of the bedroom, phone in one hand, cat in the other. Selina pours a glass of milk, smiles at the sight of stretchy yoga material pooling around Tim's ankles. He's so tiny, even his white t-shirt is a little loose.
"I don't remember turning my phone off last night," Tim says, sitting at the counter top, allowing Lilly Mae to walk over it. "I never do."
Selina grabs a fork and slides the plate over to him. "Eat up, kitten."
"It's weird," Tim mutters and as his hand closes over the fork, a new expression appears on his face; the one that comes when he's standing over an unconscious criminal, and new pieces of evidence start appearing, only visible to his eyes. He blinks slowly and grimaces only slightly. His mind is computing.
"Selina?"
"Yeah, baby?" Selina hates washing dishes, but it means her back will be toward Tim.
"Did...did you turn my phone off last night?"
Selina scrubs at the frying pan. Considers her options.
"I wanted you to sleep," she finally says, turning the faucet off, drying her hands with a dishtowel. "You were all worn out."
The glower leaves for a second, and Tim smiles a little. "Thanks," he says softly. "I think I needed it."
"I know you needed it, Tim," Selina replies, coming towards him, hand moving closer to let her fingers slide down his. "You've had a hard week. Hard couple of months."
Hard life.
Tim swallows and slices the pancakes with the fork, perfect straight little slices. "But...but what if Bruce tried to call me? My phone doesn't record missed calls if it's off."
Selina watches him mix the jelly, turning pieces over and over, saturating the brown and pinkness. Thinks about the worry in Dick's voice.
"I...I don't think he called you, baby."
Tim's fork stops and he looks up at her. "No. No, he would. I was gone all night, he'd be expecting a report."
Lilly Mae comes back to Tim, lusting after his pancakes. Her tail strokes his arm. Tim glances at her and then back at Selina. "He'd be worried about me."
If he was himself, if he was in his right mind, yeah sure he'd be worried about you. He would go all over Gotham, combing every alley way, interrogating every suspect, beating the secretive ones until they let out everything they knew. If he was worried, there'd be a demon running around the streets, preying on anyone who would touch his son.
And instead, Dick called and said that Bruce "wasn't around."
"Sweetie," Selina murmurs, testing the dark ocean that's Tim mind, "how about you go home today and check on your old man. And if...if things...haven't changed..."
That blue. His eyes are like the sky outside. Innocent and too big, confused and unable to face the winter.
Selina stares back at those eyes and realizes that Bruce's dark winter could just suck the life right out of them.
Freeze them to death.
"If things haven't changed, Tim, come back. You can stay with me for as long as you like. I love you...here."
She won't have that demon destroy him in the middle of the night.
Tim blinks. Nods slightly. "Okay," he breathes. "Okay."