About fifty-odd years into the future…
Bruce Wayne walked through the hospital's empty hallway and to the room where he knew she was staying in. He wasn't exactly prepared to see her in her current state. Selina had always been a vivacious woman, and the thought of her body giving up on her made him ache inside.
He stopped outside of her private room, holding flowers in one hand and a cane in the other. She told him to come inside after he tapped on the inside of the doorframe with his cane.
Although he could tell she was ill and ceaselessly weakening, she looked beautiful. Her eyes were bright emeralds, and her hair fell about her shoulders in a wonderful gray cascade. She smiled, and bittersweet memories flooded his mind.
Selina whistled. "Flowers?" she asked. "A girl has to be dying to get a kind gesture from you."
He ignored the snide comment and placed the bouquet on a table beside her bed. She quickly placed her hand atop his, instantly tightening her grip. Bruce brought her hand to his face, kissing it and realizing how much he had missed her taste.
Selina could make a hospital gown seductive. Hell, she made dying seductive.
"Tell me you've missed me, Bruce. Tell me that you had, at one time, missed me, that the money you sent me year after year wasn't simply some sort of obligation or a way in which you hoped to ease your guilty conscience."
He leaned in to her and whispered three words he could never say out loud to anybody else. Bruce's mouth grazed her ear and moved to her lips. Salt resided there, tears she'd spilt only minutes before his arrival.
"Stay with me," she murmured.
Bruce carefully climbed onto the bed and held her for the rest of the night. Her eyes didn't open the next morning.
He buried Selina Kyle with a bouquet of red roses, near the Wayne family plot. It rained during her funeral, like it had at his parents'.