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The picture of all them together —still kids and carefree— just makes Bruce angry now.
It still sits in it's place of honor on the mantelpiece in his mother's house. Clustered around other pictures of the family. Bruce and with his mother and father as a boy, the bat exhibit behind them. Bruce with his bridge design, holding it up proudly with a gleam in his eyes. Bruce and his mother at his university graduation, Bruce hunched over with Martha's arms slung over his neck, on her tip-toes to hold him.
And in the middle: Bruce with all of his friends clustered around him laughing their minds off at something long erased from his memory.
Everyone in that picture is dead now, dead or trying to kill him. Almost everyone. The only one left besides Bruce was—
"Hey Bruce," Selina says behind him.
Bruce shifts, glancing over her shoulder at her. She looks the same as she always does. Strong, healthy. Her curls, falling down her shoulders and ending somewhere around the small of her back, might be a little longer. If he cared to dig through the back of his memory. She looks good.
Selina enters the living room slowly, glancing around to re-acquaint herself with the space. Bruce half-watches her, still distracted by the picture frame. Leaving it in the corner of his vision, if only to torture himself a little.
She stops by his shoulder, catching sight of what he was looking at. "Oh.." she says. "You shouldn't blame yourself— I mean…" she stops. "It's horrible what happened. But it's not your fault."
Bruce moves quickly to shut her up. He's not really thinking to do it, slamming the picture so it's face down in a quick movement that almost instinctual in nature. He's pretty sure he hears something crack. "I don't want to talk about it." he mutters.
Selina jumps when he moves, then glances at him, her face painted in concern. "Jesus—! What the he—"
"Dinner's ready!" Martha's voice cuts through whatever Selina was going to snap at him. Bruce is almost disappointed, if he had the energy to care.
"Don't want to leave her waiting," Bruce says, stepping away.
He can hear Selina make an annoyed sound behind him, but he doesn't look back or stop.
[-]
The kitchen is bathed in warm evening light. Cream and yellows. On the island there are three plates set for the meal, like it used to be set when there was always three spots for a meal.
Martha brightens immediately when she sees Bruce, her face crinkling into smile lines that haven't been used much lately. It makes Bruce almost regret using her to avoid talking to Selina.
He doesn't even know what more there is to say. What hasn't been said before?
"Hey kiddo," Martha greets, setting down her pan of mac n cheese on the table. "How are you feeling?"
"Oh- yeah… I'm much better, thanks."
The lie worms in his gut. Excuses have been piling up. Bruce can only fake being sick so long before it's a serious lie he can't maintain.
Martha has enough on her mind, she doesn't need to be worrying after Bruce too.
Bruce shifts past his mother before she can pull him into a hug and sits, hunched over the island's surface like some sort of less-then-human experiment from the depths of Ark M.
He had been one of the experiments from Ark M.
Selina enters after him, shooting him a pointed look before greeting Martha with a warm embrace. She settles in the chair by Bruce, taping his foot gently with hers under the table. He smiles back at her, like nothing happened, and Selina just rolls her eyes.
Once they've all been served, they settle down to eat. In the edges of Bruce's awareness Martha is casually catching up with Selina. How was she doing? Was she taking care of herself? How were things for her? Bruce can't bring himself to focus or care. He's been trying to get Selina to keep up to date with him over text for weeks, but now he just…
He wouldn't like this, this numbness, if he could bring himself to be mad at himself.
He's on his own if he patrols tonight. Alfred had mentioned something about work he needed to get done. Which probably means he's doing something Bruce wouldn't approve of behind his back.
That should frustrate him to no end, but now, as he pushes his food into shapes on his plate, he just knows it doesn't matter. Neither of them ever listen to what the other tells them to do anyway.
Alfred had been killing people long before Bruce was even born. He'd probably keep doing it long after he died. What did it really matter trying to keep him from doing it? What did any of it matter?
His friends where gone. That was something he was going to have to come to terms with. Waylon was still in the sewers. The others— god. The others.
Bruce was a glorified lab rat too. Something to be picked apart and put back together again. With his luck he'd be dead in a few weeks. Or kidnapped to be tortured again. Eaten by Ivy. Or Joker. Or whatever monstrosity was coming for him next.
And the city was still the same. Corrupted. Crime-ridden.
Was he even doing anything? Did any of this even matter? Had he given up parts of his life, years off his body to do nothing? To be nothing? To mean nothing?
Had he sacrificed his friends just to realize he could never change a city already intent on killing itself?
"—what about you, Bruce?"
"Hm?"
Martha is looking at him with that intent, interested, look. Trying to emote with her entire face her interest. When Bruce doesn't immediately respond she frowns, her expression shifting to worry and something else, digging deeper. Selina, to Bruce's right looks confused as well, her eyes narrowing as she watches the scene unfold.
Selina tries to chuckle lightly before speaking, her expression softening to something almost imitating amusement. "What do you mean Mrs. Wayne? Aren't you and Bruce attached at the hip?"
Bruce glares at Selina for that but Martha speaks again before he can say anything.
"Oh.. He's been pretty busy lately. Right, Bruce?" She looks at Bruce expectantly. Almost scared.
He doesn't want her to be scared. Never meant to hurt her.
"Yeah," Bruce relented. "Busy. Just work and stuff mostly."
Martha and Selina are still staring at him, and Bruce fixes his own gaze on that of his food, which he'd somehow managed to absentmindedly shape into a crude bat. He wants to throw the plate at the wall. Why is he like this?
"What about you, Martha?" Selina asks, breaking the long dragging silence. "How are things at city hall?
"And with Gordon," Bruce mutters.
"What?" Martha asks.
Selina is glaring at him without disguise now. Bruce doesn't care.
"Nothing," he corrects himself. "Forget it."
Selina kicks him under the table. He's lucky she wasn't wearing her suit, or steel-toed boots, because she kicks him hard.
[-]
"What the hell's gotten into you?" Selina snaps.
Bruce has never heard her this angry at him, though he has seen her this angry abstractly. If he knows her well enough —which he does— shes getting close to screaming territory.
He almost wants to see if he can get her there. Just to see what it would be like.
Maybe he would be able to feel that.
They're on the top level of one of the unfinished skyscrapers in Gotham, suited, like they're getting ready for something. Bruce is sitting on the floor, having been dragged out here by Selina, and therefore not entirely invested in being or staying there.
Not that he's been invested in much of anything lately.
"You're being an absolute asshole." Selina paces over to him, swinging her belt in her hand in quick, aggravated movements. "You're not an asshole." She stops in front of him, an expanse of long, armored legs.
Bruce tilts his head up a little to look at her and the reflective surface of her mask staring back at him. He likes her suit, always had. It always felt right for her. The helmet though—
"Take your mask off." He says.
"Only if you take yours off," she counters.
Bruce shakes his head. "I can't."
The reflection of Bruce's own cowled face warps as she tips her head. "And I should? What—because you said so?"
"I hate that helmet." Bruce says forcefully.
Selina sighs, dropping her belt-tail and letting it hit the ground with a hollow thunk before grabbing her helmet off her head and tossing it away somewhere behind her. She stares down at him, same her as she was before, except now Bruce can see her eyes and her hair. tucked away into a cap.
"Fight me." She says plainly.
"What? No."
"I wasn't asking." Selina snaps.
"No." Bruce says firmly. "I don't want to hurt you."
"You fucking asshole," she snaps, grabbing her tail again. She wraps it around his arm and pulls up like she thinks she can drag him to his feet.
He's more then twice her weight. She doesn't really think that—it's stupid.
Eventually the pulling puts a strain on his shoulder and he ties to pull away, but Selina doesn't budge.
"Ow." He says. "Stop it—you're hurting my shoulder."
"Then fight it." she hisses.
Bruce growls and wraps the tail around his arm, giving it one large to destabilize her. She yelps as she's pulled forward, landing with her hands and sinking into a crouch. Bruce takes the time she needs to recover to stand, dropping her tail as he does.
"What do you want?" Bruce asks.
"I want you to give a damn about yourself again." She hisses, before attacking with a flurry of blows. She kicks, which Bruce blocks, then twists in the air, using the momentum to strike at him again. Bruce shifts, managing to block each blow, but before he can grab her she moves out of the way.
She's smaller and faster then him, and clearly has a plan. It's destabilizing. He's on the ground before he knows it, a fully body groan coming from his mouth as she grabs his cape from behind him and pulls, jamming her heel into his ankle at the same time.
His boot gives enough for him to feel it, and he falls hard.
Bruce scrambles to his feet. "I'm being the asshole?" he calls after Selina, who's already making a run for it on the other side of the skyscraper. "What the fuck are you doing right now?"
She stops, twisting around on her heel. "Fighting for my life!" she calls. "If you want me, come and get me."
And then she leaps, up and disappears out of sight.
Anger burns in Bruce's chest. This isn't fair. She started the fight. Why is she being so difficult?
He sprints after her, using the bat-arms in his cape to swing himself up to the next level of the skyscraper.
"You're got to keep going." Selina calls out, somewhere above him. He looks up, but the sun is setting rapidly and he can't make her out among the shadows.
"Keep going?" he snaps. "This is a stupid cat and mouse game you started. I didn't want this."
"Not that, idiot," there's a twinge of affection to the insult if Bruce isn't imagining things. He doesn't get a long time to consider this though, because Selina drops down on him wrapping her legs around his neck and digging her claws into his cowl. Bruce and feel the pin-pricks of pain from it, has he grasps at the legs choking him.
He drops down, rolling on the ground to knock her off, but it leaves him on his hands and knees, trying to catch is breath.
"You're too important. What you're started is too important—" Selina it cut off when Bruce grabs her ankle and yanks her toward him.
"What do you think you're doing—?" he hisses.
"You're drifting and you're taking it out on everyone else," she snaps, digging her fingers into his neck, holding on.
They're both trying to catch their breath now, and Bruce stares at Selina's flushed face without understanding. Selina wraps her legs around his torso and rolls them over, landing with his body pinned under her.
"Tell me this isn't the most you've felt in weeks." she says. "and I'll apologize for it all."
"Maybe I don't want to feel." Bruce counters.
She cups his face and kisses him. He grabs at her when she does, desperate for her not to go. It's too soon.
He lets out a little noise when she pulls away, his hand drifting up and tugging her cap off. With a little encouraging her hair falls loose over both of them.
"You have to feel to live," she says, like she's deciding this is true from now on. "You have to feel the good and the bad."
Her hands wander under his torso. Bruce kisses her again as she pulls his belt off his hips.
[-]
It's getting cold as the night settles. Bruce ignores it in favour of tucking his face back into Selina's shoulder and squeezing her closer.
She sighs softly, folding her hands over his. "You have to keep going." She says after a while.
Bruce makes a little aggravated noise into her skin.
"I'm serious." she says.
"I don't want to talk about this right now." Bruce mutters, trying to pinpoint the place she sprayed her perfume.
"What do you think this was all even for?" Selina shifts and Bruce takes the sign to give her a little space. She rolls over and gives him a hard look, cupping his face. "You're too important, Bruce. What Batman means to the people— it's too important. They wear your symbol around because it makes them feel safe."
Bruce looks away.
"Hey," Selina calls him back to attention. "It's never your fault. What people do in response to you resisting? It's not your fault. You shouldn't be held accountable for that."
Bruce swallows, his eyes rapidly feeling hot. "They blame me." He says simply.
Selina's face falls a little.
"I should have known better," Bruce says. "That's the fact of the matter. I should have known they would have been in danger if I involved them. If I let them stick by. It's never going to fall on me, really. They paid the price. I paid nothing."
Selina opens her mouth, like she's about to protest that, but Bruce keeps going.
"I keep thinking about what they might do to my mom. Alfred said he could have killed her— easily, if he wanted to. He's not even close to the worst I've faced. Sometimes I think, if I push her away it'd be better. She's getting better. Moving on. Maybe she can have a life after me— apart from me."
"She wouldn't want that." Selina says. "You know that. You know she wouldn't want that—"
"It doesn't matter— Don't you understand?" Bruce cuts in. "It's already too late. Even if I do everything I try to to protect her I can't. She's doomed because I thought I could change something. I had a child's dream and even if I give it up everyone around me is going to pay for it. I opened Pandora's box for nothing and now I'm realizing it just brought more pain. It never meant anything. Nothing will change."
"You already have—" Selina says.
Bruce cups her face and tilts it up to be closer to his, his words becoming more intense as he continues speaking. "I keep thinking about what I could say to make you stay. But you shouldn't— even with the suit you shouldn't. Being close to me. Having anything to do with me. It's too dangerous."
"Bruce…" Selina whispers.
"Would you?" He asks. "If I asked you?"
"I don't…." Selina swipes her thumb under Bruce's eye, wiping away a tear he hadn't even realized was there. It's cold, his face was becoming numb.
"It's okay," Bruce says. "You don't have to answer."
He kisses her then, cupping her head and pulling her close again.
When they break apart he looks at her for a few minutes, like he's taking her in for the first time.
"I love you." He says. Then, quickly, "I'm sorry. You don't have to say—"
Selina pulls his face to hers, pressing their foreheads together. "I love you too," she breathes. "Don't forget it when, I'm gone."
"I won't," Bruce promises. "And I won't stop fighting."
"You're sure?" She whispers.
"I'm sure." Bruce says. "What else am I doing to do? There are only ever more people to defend. And friends to— avenge."
Selina smiles. "Take care of yourself too." She insists, her hands trailing down his back.
"Isn't that a contradiction?" Bruce teases softly.
Selina gives him a look. "No- It isn't. Come on—" She sits up suddenly. "It's freezing. Let's go home Bruce."