A/N: So, I'm an awful person. I didn't mean to take over a month-long hiatus, but I did. I wrote two pieces for two other fandoms while I was away, one of which got a lot of hate from a single, really-toxic reviewer (who knew Girl Meets World was so cut-throat?). So before the chapter starts I'd like to thank you all for being so encouraging to me as I've gone through the longest project of my entire career to this point. I never realized just how amazing the Gotham community is until I saw how bad it is in other places. It's just so good to be home. I hope you enjoy Chapter 15!

Also, the name 'Gar' is pronounced like 'Gar' in Gary, not like 'gar' in garbage. Just wanted to let you know as it'd probably be confusing if I didn't :)

The Cost of Scars

Selina was finishing up gymnastics practice a little late, lost in a world of her own thoughts.

So, when a male voice said, "Hey, Selina!" really loud behind her, she did what anyone else would've done.

She kicked.

Sterling St. Cloud fell flat on his butt, extreme pain evident on his face as he held onto his lower regions.

Her eyes went wide and she started apologizing profusely. He painfully laughed, saying it was fine but he needed a minute.

He eventually recovered and she helped him up to his feet. Sterling was one of the only people at Anders who wasn't a stuck-up, rich snob, like Thomas Elliot and his goons, or an all-too-peppy, talkative person like one of her best friends, Tammy.

Tammy was great and all, but Sterling was just…chill, a normal human being.

And a very cute normal human being, at that.

Selina grabbed their bags and they walked out together, talking and laughing and making fun of Thomas Elliot. The idiot had asked one of the most popular girls in school to the upcoming dance in front of the entire lunch room, and gotten a big, fat 'no' in return.

"Speaking of the dance," Sterling started hesitantly, his face starting to redden, "I've been meaning to ask if…you'd want to go with me?"

Selina froze; her mouth opening and closing noiselessly like a fish out of water. She felt her face heat up. Yeah...she hadn't been expecting that.

Apparently her lack of a response spooked Sterling as he started backtracking, quickly spluttering out, "If-you-don't-want-to-go-with-me-that's-fine-too-I-know-that-it's-your-first-year-here-and-you-may-just-want-to-go-with-your-friends-which-is-cool-too…"

She held a hand up and he stopped talking. She smiled and told him, "I'd love to go to the dance with you."

"Really?" he asked.

She nodded. "Really. Besides, it'd be weird if some random guy asked me. It'll be a lot more fun to go with a friend," she told him.

He nodded. "Right, that's what I was thinking," he said, although he seemed less excited about the prospect now.


Alfred was just pulling up to the school when he spotted the familiar silhouette of Bruce Kyle perched atop the school wall. He pulled up right underneath the teen and shouted, "Are you waitin' for someone?"

Bruce's eyes snapped downwards. He'd been lost in his own world of thought, not noticing the butler's presence until he'd announced himself. Bruce quickly recollected himself and coolly responded, "No." He slid off of his perch and dropped to the ground next to the butler, starting to say, "Nice car," but never finishing.

If his head had been in the moment, he probably could've dodged the punch, but his mind was elsewhere. So, naturally, it hit its mark.

Hard.

Bruce buckled over, stars swimming in his eyes. There was a sharp pain in his left temple but he grit his teeth and stood to face the man who'd just hit him.

His hand impulsively drifted towards his coat pocket where Floyd's gun was still stashed from a few nights prior, the night that he'd shot Greenwood.

If Alfred had tried to hit him again…in hindsight…Bruce didn't know what he would've done. However, he never got the chance to make a mistake as Alfred's next words shook him into a stupor.

"That's for Reggie," he growled murderously. Bruce's eyes went wide and he paled. How did he know about that? Had Selina told him? "I know you got him killed," Alfred told him. "Now, I don't know what you want with Miss Wayne, but I'm certain that his life's gonna be a damn sight better without you in it." He stepped closer to Bruce, his voice going even deeper than before, saying, "So, you do yourself a favor, boy, and jog on."

Bruce clenched his teeth. Glancing over Alfred's shoulder, he saw Selina, smiling and laughing and talking with a guy. He was tall, blonde, and good-looking, probably rich too. She looked…happy.

Bruce nodded. He swallowed hard and told Alfred, "All good." He turned away from the man and quickly ascended the wall, ducking out of sight as quickly as physically possible.

He slid down the other side and sat up against it, listening as Selina introduced Alfred to the other kid, Sterling St. Cloud. Bruce scoffed. Even the kid's name sounded better than his own.

The car doors slammed shut and it drove off.

Bruce sat there for God-knows how long, swallowing back tears which hadn't been shed for a long, long time.

Taking a deep breath, he stood up, brushed himself off, and got a cab to take him back to Gotham.

He trudged into the Gym with his hung head low and his brow furrowed. Ted spotted him first and immediately understood, throwing Bruce a pair of boxing gloves and grabbing a pair for himself. Bruce didn't even warm up, he just started throwing punches. Ted apparently decided that Bruce was too much of a wreck at the moment to spar full force, so he threw the slowest, worst-aimed punches Bruce had ever seen. Meanwhile, Bruce was throwing haymakers, most just barely missing Ted's face.

Maybe Alfred was right. How many times had he hurt Selina? Put her in harm's way? Was she better off without him?

The easy answer: no, of course not. How many times had he saved her life?

The honest answer...

The other kids's name popped into his head: Sterling St. Cloud.

He threw a particularly hard punch into Ted's gut. His brother doubled over and held up a hand for him to stop while he caught his breath. He got a smirk on his face and wheezed out, "So it's girl trouble then? Someone else talking to a girl you like? Wondering if you can compete with him?"

Bruce looked down at his older brother in shock. "How the hell did you figure all that out?"

"You were muttering the whole time," Ted responded snarkily. "Well that, and you kept getting more and more reckless as you got angrier. If it was "business"-stuff, you would've been able to keep your head. Same thing if it was friend-stuff. But girls," he shook his head and chuckled, "girls bring out the most animalistic parts of us guys. Nothing we can do about it. You were thinking about the other guy while you fought, comparing yourself to him which got you angry."

Bruce shrugged, "Maybe."

Ted laughed, "Dude, you gotta be kidding me! You're Bruce Kyle, badass thief extraordinaire. Who does this kid think he is making a move on your woman?"

Bruce shook his head with a smirk and responded, "I wouldn't exactly call her 'my woman'." Just saying that out loud felt weird.

"Well then, what would you call her?" Ted asked, finally back on his feet.

Bruce shook his head. "No clue."

Ted took a swipe at his head which missed by a centimeter at the most. "Then figure it out, and keep you head in the game!"


"Now, Miss Wayne, you know that I'll be just over at the bar if you need me," Alfred reminded her for the fifth time in the past half-hour.

"Yes, Alfred, I know. I'll be fine," Selina told him. "It's just a business dinner."

They arrived in the main dining room of the Regal Hotel and found Mr. Galavan waiting at a table near the main window. The view out of the window was breathtaking. You could see all the way to the Southside Bridge from there, the entirety of the Gotham skyline sprawled out below.

"Mr. Galavan," Selina started, "thank you for meeting me," she said, shaking the man's hand.

"It's an honor," Galavan replied, "the pleasure's all mine."

"I'll be just over there, Miss Wayne," Alfred told her, nodding across the room to the bar.

"Oh, why not dine with us?" Galavan asked.

Alfred smiled sheepishly and replied, "That's very kind of you, sir, but I don't think it's appropriate. And I know that Miss Wayne wants to speak to you on her own." He pulled out Selina's chair for her and asked, "Madam?"

"Thank you, Alfred," Selina said, taking a seat at the table.

Galavan did the same and Alfred bustled off.

"Do you like this place?" Galavan asked Selina, gesturing to the restaurant.

Selina shrugged. "I've never been here before. To be honest, we don't get out much," she told him.

"Well I hope I can change that," Galavan told her. "There's always some tedious function I could drag you to," he said with a small laugh.

Selina chuckled and told him, "I just wanted to thank you in person, for saving Alfred and Dr. Thompkins' lives."

Galavan shook his head, saying, "You're very kind. The truth is, I don't know what came over me. I don't think I was in complete control of my faculties," he said with a chuckle. His face returned to a more serious demeanor and Galavan told her, "I also wanted to speak to you face-to-face. It's regarding your parents' passing."

Selina's heart dropped in her chest. Did he know something? The case had gone cold for so long…

Galavan continued, "I find it astonishing that the police have failed to produce any evidence or any real suspect in all this time…"

Selina nodded. "It is disappointing."

"Even your father's own company, Wayne Enterprises, has failed to advance the investigation in any way."

Selina turned her head and looked out the window. She could see her father's building from there. Well…technically it was her building now.

Galavan may've said something next, but he never got the chance as another voice butted in, "Uncle, can I have the keys? I left my wallet in the car."

Selina whipped around to the voice. It was familiar, she'd heard it just earlier that day.

Sure enough, there stood Sterling St. Cloud.

"Sterling?" she asked.

"Oh, hey, Selina," he replied, seemingly not surprised at all.

"I-I didn't know you two were…" Selina started.

"Young Mr. St. Cloud is my nephew," Galavan told her.

"My father passed a couple of years ago," Sterling explained. "Sorry if I didn't mention it before…"

"No, no," Selina told him, "it's fine. Trust me, I get it. Not having parents just…it's makes you feel—"

"Different," Sterling finished.

Selina nodded.

Galavan looked between the two curiously and told Sterling, "Why don't you pull up a chair, Sterling? I think we've got a lot to talk about."


Bruce was strolling along the rooftops of Gotham, progressively getting closer and closer to the roof's edge with each passing building. He couldn't get that damn sentence out of his head:

"I don't know what you want with Miss Wayne, but I'm certain that his life's gonna be a damn sight better without you in it."

Maybe Alfred was right. Selina deserved someone who could provide for her, protect her, give her a good life. He couldn't do that. He was a street-rat and a thug.

Hell, he was about to go mediate between Butch Gilzean and a couple of arsonists for a couple hundred bucks.

What right did he have, expecting Selina to just wait for him?

He scaled down a fire escape to street level, leaning up against the entrance to an old, rundown apartment complex. Butch eventually pulled up and they entered cautiously. As they walked up the stairs, Butch told him, "Just let me do the talking. You just smile and make like we're friends."

Bruce gave him a questioning look and asked, "Friends?" Butch nodded and Bruce smirked. "That's a hundred extra," he said, jogging up the stairs.

Butch muttered something but followed after him.

"So, how fast do you think they'll pull a gun on you?" Bruce asked him.

Butch scoffed. The arsonists in question, the Pike Brothers, were strong Fish Mooney loyalists. Back in the city-wide gang war, Butch had shot Fish, ending up with her dead. But Bruce had used to run with the youngest of the brothers when they were kids, and he already had a good reputation in the Gotham Underworld. Plus, everyone knew that Jack considered Bruce to be a friend of his, which meant a lot to anyone who worked in the Narrows.

Bruce knocked on the door. Awful rock music blared inside and you could smell the gasoline and kerosene before the door even opened.

After a few seconds and a few shouts inside, the door cracked open slightly.

"Hey, Gar," Bruce said.

Garfield Pike opened the door a bit wider and Bruce cringed at the sight of him. He looked so different from the last time he'd seen him. Granted, it'd been a few years, but still. He was a bit taller than Bruce now, but was really skinny, too skinny, and had burn marks all over his mangled hands and forearms. He'd even started to grow out a thin layer of dark stubble, making his face look like he was constantly in a shadow.

"Hey, Bruce," Gar replied. "It's been a while."

Bruce nodded to Butch. "Me and my pet gorilla are here on business. Your brothers home?"

Garfield swallowed and then nodded. "Yeah."

He opened the door a bit wider and let Bruce and Butch inside. Bruce had only seen the inside of their apartment once before and it'd been a wreck back then. He didn't know how it could've gotten worse.

It'd gotten a lot worse, just like everything else in his life, apparently.

Empty beer bottles were strewn about the room, it smelled sickeningly of a mix between napalm and cannabis (aka. weed), and the sink was nearly filled to the ceiling with dirty dishes. There was a single couch with a couple of tables and there sat the three eldest Pike brothers, Joe, Cale, and Evan Pike.

They initially smiled up at Bruce, but then they saw Butch behind him. The eldest Pike, Joe, pulled a revolver on Butch before he could even say a word.

Butch held his hands up and calmly said, "Hey, boys."

Joe turned to Bruce and asked, "What're you doing with this rat, Bruce?"

"He's okay," Bruce told them. "I vouch for him."

"What do you mean "okay"?" the youngest of the three, Evan Pike, asked. "The bastard shot Fish."

"It was complicated," Bruce told him. "As is everything else in our fields of profession, so can we put the guns away and act like professionals?"

Cale, the middle one, and Joe looked at each other for a few seconds. Joe turned back and finally addressed Butch, asking, "What do you want?"

Bruce answered for him, "He's got a nice job for you guys." Bruce leaned up against the bar and offhandedly stated, "Business is business, right?"

"Hey, bygones, huh?" Butch asked. "We need the best, and you guys are the best," he told them, reaching for his inner coat pocket.

All three brothers collectively clocked back their guns and raised them at Butch. Bruce instinctively reached for his own gun.

He really needed to stop doing that.

Butch raised his hands in the air and told them, "Whoa, easy."

Slowly, he reached back into the pocket and took out a slip of paper. He handed it to Bruce who handed it to the Pikes, however not without taking a glance at the order. He knew that Penguin had a big job planned, but this order was insane.

Joe took it from him and read it first, whistling in surprise. "That's a lot of work," he told Butch.

"A lot of pay," Butch responded. "You up for it?"

Joe set his pistol back on the table and handed the paper to his brothers. "For sure," he told Butch.

"We'll need more gear," Evan told his brothers. "I'll hit the Merc and stock up."

"We've got enough gear to burn down Gotham twice," Joe retorted.

"There's always room for more napalm," Evan responded, standing up and walking out of the apartment.

Joe huffed and shook his head in exasperation.

Gar walked up to the fridge and got out four bottles of beer, handing two to Bruce and Butch and the other two to his brothers. As he walked away, Joe kicked him hard in the back of his knee. "Hey, kid," Joe said with a threatening tone. Gar took a deep breath and turned back to his older brother who asked, "What are you? A slob?"

Bruce almost laughed, given the state that the apartment was in.

However, Joe wasn't done yet. "We have company. What do we do when we have company?" he asked Gar with irritation clear on his face.

"We get them a glass," Gar answered.

"Ding, ding, ding," Joe told him. "Go and do it."

Gar did as he asked, handing a glass to Butch and Bruce, and then giving one to Joe.

Sensing he was no longer needed, Gar turned and trudged off.

Bruce felt really bad for him. He'd known that the Pike Brothers were shit-bags, but still…

He turned and left the awful apartment, just hearing Butch tell Joe, "You're gonna need this," and handing him a small box.

Bruce threw away the bottle of bear and the glass the first chance he got. He was just passing an alleyway when he heard his name called. He turned and saw Gar standing there, obviously still in pain from his brother's kick.

Bruce nodded. "Hey, Gar."

"Hey," Gar responded.

Bruce glanced around and offhandedly commented, "Looks like rain."

Gar nodded. "Yeah, it does." He glanced sheepishly down at his feet.

"I don't mind it," Bruce continued, refusing to let the conversation become stale or awkward. "Cleans the streets, anyhow."

"That's true."

"Anyway, um…" Bruce paused as thunder rolled above them. "Take care of yourself, Gar. Be strong."

Gar smiled at him, the first time that he'd seen him smile for the whole visit. "Thanks. Take care of yourself, too, Bruce."

Bruce nodded. "Always."

A/N: Sorry for a less-action filled chapter than normal. This one was mostly just setup for the next chapter (which will be coming out within the next week or so) so sorry if it was slower than normal. And once again I just wanted to thank you all for how kind and supportive and involved you've been with me throughout this series and my other oneshots. This fandom is the single best I've ever been involved in and I'll always appreciate it. I've grown so much over the past year and this project has been a huge part of that. So, to those who've stuck it out (even through the first few chapters which, in hindsight, weren't so great), thank you. It means more to me than you could ever know.

So if you enjoyed or have any comments/questions/critiques, PLEASE REVIEW! Your feedback is why I post on here, after all. Thanks for reading and ciao for now!

Oh, and only 13 days till Gotham Season 5 airs…just thought I should mention that ;)