A/N: This is the final chapter of the Narrows Arc. I'm sad to see it go, but, like I said in my last post, I can't wait to show you what I have in store for the end of Season 2! I'd also like to take the opportunity to thank you all again for your continued support on this series. It really means the world to me that people are reading what I'm writing, and it gives me hope that I could turn writing into a career someday. So thank you. Your support means more to me than you could ever know.
With all that said: here's Chapter 27. Hope you enjoy!
All Good Things
Selina sprinted across the rooftop, lugging a bag of money along with her, with Bruce hot on her heels.
Over the past two weeks, he'd let her take larger and larger roles in his jobs. On this job in particular, he'd let her go into the back room by herself and distract the gang's boss (who was now chasing them), while Bruce used the high ceilings and sharp corners of the main room to his advantage, silently taking out the guards one by one.
When he was done, he walked into the back room and they robbed the boss point-blank. Bruce let the guy off with a warning to not follow them (which he'd later come to regret), and, after filling an entire duffel bag with rolls of money, they left.
They ran through the building, navigating towards the open window Bruce had used to slip inside.
The coast was clear. They'd gotten away with it…
They turned a corner, and Bruce came to a screeching halt.
Apparently he'd missed a guard.
Blocking the tight hallway was a mountain of a man, his shoulders almost as wide as the room itself.
Bruce handed the duffel bag to Selina and told her, "I'll go under. You go over."
She was about to ask what that meant when Bruce charged. She instinctually followed closely behind, not entirely sure what he was planning but trusting him anyways.
They got closer and closer and closer until she could almost see the behemoth's nose hairs.
For a split second, Selina thought Bruce was going to try and run through the man. Then, he dropped into a baseball slide, passed between the man's legs, and came up on his feet on the other side. The man, slower moving than Bruce, bent over to try and grab him, but missed by inches.
Selina quickly figured out what "You go over" meant. She threw the bag of money over the man to the other side, Bruce catching it in stride as he started to run.
Selina sprinted at the man, still bent over, and jumped, using the back of the man's head as a trampoline and flying across him to the other side. She landed gracefully in a somersault, coming up on her feet and sprinting after Bruce in a single fluid motion, leaving the dazed monster of a man behind.
She rounded the corner and found Bruce stalled again, standing across from another man. He was a bit smaller than the last one but held a spiked baseball bat to make up for it.
"You had one job!" Selina complained.
"Shut up!" He handed her the bag as he charged the man, dodging a swing of the bat, getting into the man's guard, and judo flipping him onto his back. He broke the guy's wrist for good measure and then started towards the exit, motioning for Selina to go through first.
"YOU GET BACK HERE WITH MY MONEY!" the boss roared as he rounded the corner.
Selina made it through the window, starting up the fire escape to the rooftop.
Bruce straddled the windowsill, casually leaning up against it. He subtly removed the piece of wood propping the window open, letting the weight rest on his shoulder.
The guy was practically fuming with rage, yelling as he charged, "WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON YOU–"
As he reached out, Bruce swung his other leg out onto the fire escape, letting the window slam shut, crushing the man's fingers in between.
Bruce smirked. "Poor choice of words."
The man howled in pain as Bruce sprinted up the steps. The window trap wouldn't hold him for long, and they needed as much distance advantage as possible.
Bruce pulled himself onto the rooftop and started across it, Selina a few steps ahead. There was only one place where they could jump from their roof to another, and it was on the opposite side of the building.
A rooftop exit door slammed open in front of them, and the boss stepped out, hands and face both throbbing red (but for very different reasons). Selina managed to get past him before he could reach out, but Bruce wasn't as lucky.
He slowed down, squaring up with the man.
He juked to the right, and then sprinted left, dodging the man's outstretched arms by millimeters.
He ran as hard as he could, his pursuer screaming curses on him and his family as Bruce widened the gap, again.
"YOU LITTLE CUNTS! DON'T YOU TAKE THAT BAG! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHO YOU'RE STEALING FROM?"
A stupid grin stretched across Bruce's face.
This was the life: ripping off mobsters, running across rooftops as you fled for your life.
Could it get any better than this?
He was about five steps behind Selina when, suddenly, the left side of her body jerked backwards, and she dropped the bag. She'd run into a pipe jutting out of the ground.
She stalled, but Bruce knew there was no time. "Leave it!" he shouted, motioning for her to keep running.
She followed orders and left the bag behind, leaping across the gap between the buildings to safety.
Bruce, on the other hand, was not gonna let this job go to waste. They were too close. He scooped up the bag as he ran, knowing his pursuer was only regaining ground by the second.
He was so close…five feet…three…one more step…
The hair on the back of his neck stood on end. He felt breeze from the man's hand rip across the scruff of his neck, missing by the thinnest of margins.
Meanwhile, he leapt across the gap between the two buildings, a giant smile on his face.
If you asked him, the only thing more fun than committing a crime was getting away with it and that was exactly what he'd just done.
He landed gracefully on the other side, doing a somersault and coming up on his feet.
He turned back to face his pursuer who'd stopped at the edge of his own rooftop.
"THAT'S MY MONEY!" he yelled.
"Boo-hoo! You stole it," Selina taunted. "Now you got stole, chump." Bruce shook his head. Whatever the Narrows had done to her, he liked it.
The man chuckled mirthlessly, growling, "I catch you, you're dead! Both of you!"
Bruce smirked, reaching into the bag and removing several fistfuls of money. "By the way, you're a terrible crook, letting two kids rob you. You really don't deserve this money."
He threw the cash down into the streets.
"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING, YOU LITTLE FREAK?!" he roared.
"What the hell are you doing?" Selina agreed, ripping the bag of money away from him before he could throw anymore out.
"YOU'RE BOTH DEAD! NOBODY'S EVER GONNA TOUCH MY MONEY!" he roared into the streets, turning back and running off to stop the people from taking the free cash.
"What were you thinking?!" Selina yelled at him.
Bruce cocked an eyebrow. "Since when do you care about the money? You're a billionaire, remember?"
Selina growled in frustration. "That doesn't mean it's okay to throw money away! That was your half you threw out!" she told him, throwing in a shove for good measure and storming off.
Bruce shrugged, a lazy smirk sliding across his face as he held up the few bills he had left. "I saved enough for burgers."
And so they got burgers at their favorite diner, Bruce's treat.
They'd been doing this more and more often as of late, just the two of them getting a meal or seeing a movie. Two nights prior, they'd even snuck into the rafters of a Gotham Rogues baseball game.
Were they dates?
Maybe.
He wasn't entirely sure, and he was fine with that.
He was a fulltime criminal, after all, and, outside of the Narrows, she was a billionaire.
Besides, he'd tried dating someone before, and that hadn't ended particularly well. So, no, they weren't dates, at least not in the romantic sense.
They were just two street-kids hanging out, happy right where they were. They weren't mad at each other (besides the occasional squabble), and there was no massive, life-threatening plot looming over their heads.
Things were just…good.
And he knew from experience that that was a dangerous thing.
He'd learned a long time ago that getting your hopes up only led to pain. But maybe, just maybe, if he hoped for one thing, just one, it might turn out alright.
Then again, there was that picture burning a hole in his jacket pocket. Could he really expect to live peacefully while–
"Hello? Earth to Bruce?" Selina asked, waving a fry under his nose.
He shook his head, snapping back to the present. "Yeah?"
"The check's here," she told him pushing the receipt towards him. "It's your treat, remember?"
Bruce nodded, paying the fee and handing it to the waitress, telling her to keep the change.
"Where'd you go?" Selina asked, half-heartedly munching on a fry.
Bruce shook his head. "Got lost in my head."
"That's a dangerous place to be," she teased.
He stole a fry from her tray. "Whatever. What do you wanna do today?"
She shrugged, her eyes going distant as she stared out the window. Snow had begun to fall and the streets were practically empty, making the city look almost peaceful. "I don't know. We could go to the Flea?"
"We did that yesterday. We could go climbing uptown?"
She shook her head. "My hands are still sore from the Rogue's stadium."
Bruce shrugged and leaned back in the booth. "We could just go home, find something to do later?"
Selina nodded. "That's fine, I guess. But let's walk back. It's so pretty outside."
And so they walked back to the factory at a snail's pace, flurries descending to the streets. Selina laced her arm through his as they went.
Bruce glanced down at her. Her curly hair was speckled white with snow and her cheeks naturally blushed from the cold. Her arm was shivering slightly. He didn't think it was that cold, and she was wearing a heavy jacket…
He noticed the left sleeve of her jacket had a large tear in it, letting the cold in. That was sad, she loved that jacket. Hell, she'd practically worn it every day since she'd gotten it.
He quickened their pace slightly, and they arrived back in the Factory within a few minutes. He made a beeline for the heater, turning it up as high as it would go. Not a minute later, Selina tossed her jacket onto the couch.
He scooped it up with the rest of their laundry, tossing the jacket into his room before putting the rest of the clothes into the tiny washer/dryer he'd found on the side of the road one day.
He went off to his room, telling Selina that he was gonna work out for a while. She hummed in acknowledgement from the couch and he closed the door.
He went to work, pulling out a needle and thread from his closet and sewing the sleeve up in a matter of minutes.
And yes, he knew how to sew.
He also knew how to kill someone with a sewing needle should the need arise.
He held the jacket out, admiring his handiwork. The stitch wasn't exactly subtle, but it would function nonetheless.
"Hey, Cat!" he called, stepping out of his room with the jacket held behind him. "I have a surp–"
The front door slammed open.
Selina was sitting on the couch, bolt upright in surprise.
She glanced back at Bruce. "Who?"
He shook his head, setting the jacket down on the kitchen table and picking up a baseball bat, approaching the main entrance slowly.
Selina flicked open her knife and hid up against the wall.
"Ted?" Bruce asked hesitantly. "That you?"
It wasn't Ted.
Of all the people in Gotham to walk through his front door, bruised and bleeding, Jim Gordon was the last one he would've expected.
"What the–" Bruce muttered.
"Detective Gordon?" Selina asked, dropping her knife and rushing to help him down the steps. He looked like hell.
"Selina?" Gordon asked, seeming tired and very confused. "What are you doing here?"
"I could ask the same about you," Bruce stated coldly.
No matter how broken and battered he was, Bruce couldn't feel bad for Gordon. Not after what he'd done to Garfield, how he'd lied. And then he had the balls to show up to his place looking for help?
"I found the man who framed me," Gordon told them, panting heavily. "I need a phone–"
He keeled over, collapsing onto the couch and passing out without another word.
Bruce huffed. "Great, a dead cop in my crib now."
"He's still sleeping," Selina told Alfred as she poured herself a cup of tea.
"Best thing for him," he agreed, setting out breakfast on the kitchen table.
She sighed. "Thank you for coming when I called, Alfred."
"Of course I came. No question," Alfred told her. He gave her a long, weary glance. "You're looking thin."
She rolled her eyes. "I'm getting plenty to eat."
"That I very much doubt, Miss Wayne," Alfred remarked. "But there are things that we must discuss."
"I'm not coming back," she stated. "Not yet."
"I understand that, but we need to talk–"
"Good morning," Jim groaned, slowly walking into the kitchen.
"Detective Gordon, should you be up?" Selina asked.
"I'm fine," Gordon told her. He turned to Alfred, asking, "You stitched me up?"
Alfred opened his mouth to respond, but hesitated. "Actually, it was Mr. Kyle," he answered, mumbling the last two words.
"I called Alfred from Bruce's place when you passed out," Selina told him.
"So I'd thought I'd bring you here. Safest place for you," Alfred finished. "Miss Wayne, I'm wondering if you might go and get the detective his clothes from the laundry room, please."
Selina nodded, telling Gordon as she left, "I'm glad you're okay."
She lingered in the hallway, her keen ears perking up at her name.
"How long has Selina been living with Bruce Kyle?" Gordon asked.
"Ever since the Matches Malone debacle," Alfred muttered. "Turns out staring into the cold, dead eyes of the man that killed your parents doesn't bring the right amount of closure."
"Selina never should've been in that room. I should've gotten to Malone first."
"Yes. You should've done," Alfred agreed. "But you didn't, did you? You can't un-fry an egg. As my dear old mum used to say. So, why don't we leave Miss Wayne's…situation alone, and why don't we discuss yours, eh?"
Selina walked off to get Gordon's clothes.
Had it really only been two months since she'd found Malone? It'd felt like a short eternity. And yet at the same time, she felt as though she had so much more to learn from Bruce, so much she hadn't gotten to do on the streets. Just to think that yesterday morning she and Bruce had been having a hard time figuring out what to do.
And now she had no end of ideas of things to do.
She jogged up the stairs, passing her own bedroom. She hadn't been able to sleep at all that night. Her bed had absorbed her like quicksand, too soft from what she was now used to. She'd eventually settled for sleeping in her father's study on one of the harder couches. Even then she'd had difficulty finding rest.
It all felt so different, so foreign. Her life in the Manor seemed like a lifetime ago.
She kept on going, passing Bruce's bedroom on her way.
The door was propped open, just by a few inches.
She stopped dead in her tracks.
Was it wrong to peek inside, just to check on him?
If she hadn't been able to sleep in the Manor, then he sure as hell wouldn't have been able to either, right?
She was just looking out for him.
She crept towards the door, peering into the room.
He was standing at the foot of his bed, facing the open windows with his back turned to her.
She'd seen him without a shirt a few times, most of which had happened during her stay in the Narrows when she woke up early enough to catch him walking from his bedroom to the bathroom.
The kid was good looking with his lean, muscular frame, but the sight was startling.
His chest, back, and arms were speckled with scars, ranging from cuts to a pair of gunshot wounds to a large burn on his left shoulder (which she'd never had the heart to ask him about). She sometimes forgot how much he'd been through in his decade of living in the Narrows. She didn't see him for the damaged person that he was, primarily because he didn't act like it; he didn't let people see his scars.
But who was she to judge?
She scampered off down the hall, pulling Detective Gordon's clothes from the drier in a heap.
As she walked back, she glanced into Bruce's room, the door more ajar than before. It was empty, meaning he was probably heading down to breakfast…alone…with Gordon and Alfred…
She quickened her pace drastically, almost running down the stairs and into the kitchen.
Bruce was off in the corner, pouring himself a cup of coffee while Gordon sat at the table and Alfred stood rigid, staring Bruce down.
Other than the sound of Bruce pouring his drink, it was dead silent in the room.
Selina cleared her throat, handing Gordon his clothes. He set them off to the side, thanking her and returning to his drink. She sat down across from him.
Bruce turned around, completely avoiding all eye contact with Gordon as he slumped into the chair next to her.
Selina cleared her throat again and hesitantly started, "So…what's up, Gordon?"
She cringed immediately, knowing that there were probably better ways to ask that question.
Gordon shook his head with a small smirk. "Like I said, I found the man who framed me. His name is Ed Nygma."
"The scrawny, odd-looking fellow from the GCPD?" Alfred asked.
Gordon nodded curtly. "Yes, him. He killed Pinkney. I confronted him–"
"Didn't turn out so well for you, huh?" Bruce muttered.
Gordon cringed slightly, continuing, "Nygma was right about one thing. I can't just go to the cops. They'll never believe me. I need hard proof."
"Cops, right?" Bruce muttered, a bit louder this time. "Jerks."
Gordon ignored him, saying, "Nygma said he met Penguin for the first time in the woods. That's right around the same time his girlfriend went missing. I think he was burying her. Just like he was going to bury me."
"What? You wanna find her body?" Alfred asked. "Touch of the old 'needle in the haystack,' isn't it?"
Gordon nodded. "Nygma knows where she is."
"What? You think he's gonna, what? Straight tell you?"
"That's exactly what he's gonna do," Gordon stated. "But I need help."
"Whatever we can do," Selina told him.
"Thanks. But I need someone Barnes knows will betray me," Gordon sighed.
The room went silent, again, except for the sound of Bruce slurping on his drink.
He slowly looked up from the cup, realizing that all eyes were on him.
"What? Me?" he asked indignantly.
Gordon shrugged. "You already don't like me."
"And you're not exactly the most savory of chaps, are ya?" Alfred interjected.
Bruce narrowed his eyes at Alfred, turning to Gordon and asking, "How do you know I won't just sell you out?"
"Because you helped me," Gordon replied, gesturing to his stitched up leg. "And you wouldn't have done that if–"
"I helped you because she asked me to," Bruce told him, pointing at Selina.
"Bruce," Selina started, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Please."
He looked at Selina, then at Gordon, and then at Alfred.
"Fine," he muttered. "But now you owe me double, Gordon."
"Who do I talk to about the reward for Jim Gordon?!" Bruce announced, causing the bustling precinct to go completely silent in a matter of moments.
"Hey! Psst. Come here," Bullock told him, trying to quiet Bruce down. "Come here."
He took Bruce by the arm, so Bruce yelled, "Let go of me! I'm here for my reward!"
"I'll give you a reward," Bullock threatened, trying to look intimidating.
"Bullock!" another voice called. A short, stout, bald man approached them, presumably Captain Barnes. He'd heard all about him, all the trouble he was causing in the Criminal Underworld. It was honestly impressive. "Have you seen Jim Gordon?" he demanded.
"Depends. There really a ten grand?" Bruce countered.
"Depends on your information."
"He was at my place a couple of hours ago," Bruce told him. "He'd been shot."
"Shot?" Bullock asked worriedly. "Who shot him?"
"Didn't say," Bruce answered. "He wasn't making a lot of sense."
"Is he still there now?"
"No, he took off. I don't know where, but he was just looking for a place to lie low for a while, I guess."
"That's not worth $10,000," Barnes chided.
Bruce let out a heavy sigh. "Fine. Before he left he said he'd found out where the Penguin was hiding and he was gonna go see him."
"Why would he go see the Penguin?"
"I don't know. Something about, 'Penguin knows where the body is buried'."
"What bodies?"
"I don't know!" Bruce complained.
"Where's the Penguin now?"
"No one knows," Bullock answered.
Bruce raised his brow expectantly. "You gonna pay me or what?"
Barnes got a hard look in his eyes, like he was asking for a fight. "Or what?"
Bruce huffed. "Whatever. Forget this crap."
He stormed out of the GCPD, a smirk dancing on his lips. He'd been watching Nygma from the corner of his eye the whole time, and he'd never seen someone look so scared and guilty before in his life.
He caught a cab back to the Manor, swinging by the Factory, first.
By the time he arrived, it was already dark. He scaled the wall of the Manor, creeping into the study.
Selina was nowhere to be found.
He walked down the hall, finding the bathroom door closed. Even from several feet away, he felt the steam emanating from under the door as the water ran inside.
He went back to the study to wait.
That was his first mistake, sitting alone in a familiar room. It let his mind wander, and he didn't like where it went.
The picture in his pocket felt like it weighed a thousand pounds.
He stared intently at the door, wanting nothing more than to get Selina and get out of that house as fast as possible.
What had he been thinking, bringing her back here? In the Narrows, he knew he could protect her, but out here in the middle of nowhere?
He had half a mind to go wait outside the bathroom door, but thought better of it.
He tried to take a deep breath, to slow his nerves, but he couldn't. His heart was racing, and the air in the room felt humid and stuffy, making it difficult to breathe.
Calm down, Bruce, he told himself. Don't get yourself worked up. She's safer here anyways…
His stomach clenched at the thought.
He was gonna puke…
"Mr. Kyle?!" Alfred asked, stepping out in front of him. From the tone of his voice, it probably wasn't the first time he'd called Bruce's name.
"Selina's taking a shower," he blurted out, saying the first thing that popped into his head. "She'll be out in a minute."
Alfred nodded. "Yes, thank you. But it's actually you that I'd like to speak with."
He took the couch across from Bruce, leaning back calmly and comfortably. In contrast, Bruce was on the edge of his seat, feeling like he would be sick any moment.
He wanted out.
Now.
Alfred seemed to be in no such rush. "How are you?"
Bruce shrugged. "Fine." He paused. "Is there something you wanted?"
Alfred nodded calmly. "There is, now that you mention it. I couldn't help but to notice a small scar next to Miss Wayne's left eye that I'd never noticed until this morning. Tell me, Bruce, has it always been there?"
Bruce clenched his jaw, his stomach churning. "No," he answered just above a whisper.
"No?" Alfred asked. "Well, then, Mr. Kyle, would you like to tell me how Miss Wayne received said scar?"
Bruce swallowed hard. "We were out one night, and a group of men confronted us," Bruce slowly told him, picking each word as carefully as he could. "She hit her head on a dumpster."
Alfred nodded. "And, for curiosity's sake, is that all the damage that Miss Wayne has sustained during her…visit?"
Bruce slowly shook his head. "No. It isn't."
Alfred sighed, leaning back. The more uncomfortable Bruce became, the more he seemed to relax. "Do you have Miss Wayne's best interest at heart?" Alfred asked.
A knife sunk into Bruce's chest, slow and twisting and ice-cold.
He clenched his jaw, searching for a response but his mind becoming blank.
Alfred nodded. "Mr. Kyle, you've clearly taken an interest in her, and I'm certain that you do care about her. But is letting her stay in the Narrows the best thing for her? The safest thing for her?"
Bruce wanted to scream at him to shut up, but he couldn't find the words. Alfred could see right through him. Every anxiety, every fear that he'd been dealing with for two weeks, finally spoken, made real.
He started grasping at straws, knowing the debate was already lost but trying to salvage whatever he could. "She's tougher than she looks," he stated, trying to put a confident expression on his face. It fell flat almost immediately.
Alfred shook his head, his voice growing in intensity as he spoke. "Yes, she is, but we both already knew that, didn't we? That girl has been through so much, and she is still standing tall, so is it fair to continue putting her in these positions? Is it fair to continue reminding her of all that she's lost, not allowing her to move on from it? Or are you just being selfish?"
"You're right," Bruce stated, the churning feeling in his stomach suddenly disappearing.
Alfred's brow shot up in surprise. Apparently he wasn't expecting it to be that easy.
"You're right," Bruce repeated quietly. "I'm not being fair to her. I'm sorry."
Alfred shook his head, stunned into silence.
Just then, Selina walked in.
Alfred stood up, looked between the both of them a couple of times, and then bustled off without a word.
She gave Alfred a weird look as he walked away. "What's with him?" she asked.
Then she saw the expression on Bruce's face, and her concern only grew. He looked, daresay it, scared. For the first time possibly ever, Bruce Kyle was scared…and that scared her to no end.
"Bruce, what is going on?"
He gave her a hard look. She could see the turmoil in his eyes. Something was seriously wrong.
She stepped up to him, placing a tentative hand on his arm. "Talk to me," she told him, trying to seem as comforting and understanding as possible, even though she had no idea what was up with him.
His eyes dropped to the floor. "I'm going back to Gotham," he stated.
She cocked her head to the side and nodded. "Yeah, I know. Just give me a minute to grab my stu–"
"I need you to stay here."
…
…
…
Selina simply stared at him, not sure if she'd heard him right. Her hand fell back down to her side.
"What?" She shook her head. "W-why? What happened?" she asked, unable to fully wrap her head around what he was saying.
He turned towards the fireplace. "I need to find someone," he told her, his voice shaking slightly. "And to do that I need to disappear. But I–"
"Can't do that with me around," Selina finished.
And her heart broke when he didn't deny it.
He sighed. "I'm sorry, Cat. I swear I wouldn't do this if it wasn't important, but…but I have to make the tough call here."
She stared at him, her piercing blue-green eyes seeming to see straight through him. "It's not so tough," she scoffed, a hurt-driven bitterness creeping into her voice. "You've done this twice, now. It can't be that hard."
He shook his head. "I'm so, so sorry Selina. But this is the best thing I can do for you, right now."
Her gaze dropped to the floor. "Don't waste your breath. Go on, Bruce. Get outta here."
He grit his teeth. He had to do this. He had to. It was the best way he could protect her. He'd gotten her hurt, and this was the cost of it.
He turned around and started towards the balcony window.
Every step he took, he felt his resolve start to slip.
Would she really be safe here? Sure, Alfred was a good enough protector, but could Alfred do a better job than himself? Assassins had been able to get onto the grounds and neutralize him. Who'd saved her then? He had. And what about Galavan? He'd walked right in and kidnapped her only a few months prior. How could this place be called safe?
But were the Narrows any better?
He was so close to getting out, only a few steps away.
He felt like he was being chased all over, again, but he wasn't smiling this time.
Five more feet…three…one…
His hand was on the door handle when she called, "What's so important that it has to end…this?"
He froze. The picture was now a bonfire in his breast pocket.
He took a deep breath.
He owed her an explanation.
She deserved it.
"Sterling St. Cloud is back in Gotham."
Only the crackle of the fire answered him.
"And I need to find him before he finds you," Bruce told her. He turned back to her. "Selina, please stay safe."
He pulled a tarp over the last pieces of furniture in the Factory, fastening it to the door handle. He'd cleared out the space in less than an hour, leaving no trace of anyone ever being there, let alone a pair of people living there for two months.
Dammit.
It'd been a great two months.
Hell, it'd easily been the best two months of his life.
But it was over now.
He suddenly longed to be back in Sonny's hideout, getting the shit kicked out of him.
At least she'd been there with him.
But now, he was alone again. It was probably for the best, he was about to hunt down a trained assassin, after all.
He pulled the photograph out of his pocket and unfolded it, looking at it for the first time since Jack had given it to him.
Sterling, or as he'd found out Jean-Paul Valley, had bulked up since Bruce had last seen him. In the picture, Jean was stepping off a train, a large duffel bag over his shoulder. After last time, Bruce had no idea where he, Jean, and Selina stood, but if he was back in Gotham, it didn't seem promising.
He hadn't been spotted since the first photograph, but he was somewhere in the city, hiding, plotting.
He had to find him, and fast. It would be difficult, probably dangerous, too, but this was his city. If Jean was hiding in the shadows, Bruce would do the same.
And he couldn't do that if he was worrying about someone else.
This was the best thing he could do for her, even if it hurt.
But that's what being a partner meant to him: doing what's right for each other, not necessarily what's easy.
And if he had to make the tough call, he'd do it because he could. Because he was fighting for something bigger than himself.
He was fighting for Selina Wayne.
And he'd hate to be Jean-Paul Valley right about now.
After standing in a stupor for a solid ten minutes, Selina wandered down the hallway to her bedroom.
She didn't need these street clothes anymore…
She flipped on her lights and noticed something that hadn't been there earlier.
Her favorite leather jacket, the one that she'd ripped the morning prior, was sitting neatly folded on the foot of her bed. There was a note on top of it.
She took the piece of paper which read:
'Fixed the sleeve. Hope you like the red.
-B'
She set the note aside and unfolded the jacket.
Sure enough, the hole had been stitched up with red string, giving it an even more punk-rock aesthetic than before.
She slipped the jacket on and stepped in front of the mirror.
Oh yeah, she liked the red.
She reached into her coat's inner pocket and found that her switchblade was still there.
She flicked it open and looked at herself in the mirror.
The girl she saw staring back was a total stranger, yet oddly familiar.
When she tried to think back on what she'd looked like two months prior, she drew a blank.
This girl staring back at her was Cat, the girl who ripped off mobsters and jumped over eight story drops without blinking an eye, the one who broke into baseball games and climbed the Midtown Bridge, the one who Bruce Kyle himself had grown to trust and respect.
That was the girl she wanted to be, the girl that she was on the inside, wild and free.
But on the outside, she was orphan, billionaire Selina Wayne.
She put the knife in her nightstand, hiding it as far back in the drawer as she could in hopes of Alfred not finding it.
Completely forgetting about her original mission to change clothes, she walked back to the study and clicked the remote.
The fireplace slowly moved out of the way and she walked down to the bunker below the Manor.
She booted up her father's computer, entering S-E-L-I-N-A as the password.
She arrived at the home screen, a blacked-out screensaver with files decorating it. She'd stared at this screen for so long, searching for clues. She could practically recite all the files' names by heart: I.H.R.P., W.E.P.I, JANUS, T.C.O.O., and so on. Each of the files was password protected and gave a maximum of three attempts before the file was deleted.
She'd sat there for hours on end before and found nothing.
But this time, something stuck out to her.
Maybe it was her two months away from the screen, or maybe something she'd learned in the Narrows had made her more observant. Either way, there was something different about one of the files.
JANUS.
She'd never noticed before, but there were no dots in between the letters, and it sounded more like a word than an acronym.
Janus…what was Janus?
She rolled over to a nearby bookshelf filled with encyclopedias (apparently her father believed in doing things the hard way). She grabbed the letter J and started flipping through it, eventually coming across the word 'Janus'.
Apparently, it was a 'who', not a 'what'.
Janus was the Greek god of doors, choices, and duality, typically shown as having one body with two faces.
Why would her father name a project after a Greek god?
It may've been a thin lead, but it was the first real step in her investigation since she'd found Malone two months ago, and she was gonna follow it, wherever it took her.
A/N: Shit's about to get real. Enough said.
For those wondering, there was no Night-of-Episode-Oneshot this week because I had to do a chorus thing that went until eleven that night and I had a huge test to take the next morning (which I definitely bombed) and I still haven't seen the episode yet as I'm writing this, so I probably won't be posting another oneshot until next Thursday.
Also, I feel like I need to apologize for my treatment of Alfred in this series. I love Alfred on the show. He's easily one of my favorite characters (besides Bruce and Selina) and I feel like I keep antagonizing him. However, for a situation like this, it feels only natural that Alfred would be more protective of Selina from Bruce than he was of Bruce from Selina like in canon. I had to make him an antagonistic force in this series (at least for now) to move along the plot. I just wanted you guys to understand that I love Alfred to death and I'm not trying to turn him into an asshole, but it needed to be done.
And this is totally unrelated to anything else, but at the beginning of the episode the thug chasing after Bruce and Selina clearly calls them little c****, but Netflix subtitles it as "You little thugs!" Not important, I just thought it was funny because Gotham would never get away with using that word nowadays.
Anyways, I hope you enjoyed and if you have any comments/questions/critiques, make sure to Review! And if you haven't done it already, make sure to Follow/Favorite so you don't miss out on my next update. Thanks for reading and ciao for now!
(And I hope you liked the Jean-Paul Valley/Sterling St. Cloud reveal, since that's gonna be a HUGE part of the final arc of Season 2)
