Who: Dick and Selina Where: Dick's room at the Manor When: Recently What: Dick has a mad and Selina listens Warnings: Awesomeness
Dick was pissed. He was beyond pissed. Everything had gone out of control and now he was going on some Robin Road Trip with Jason and Damian and they were all going to try not to die. He was so pissed he was in his bedroom at Wayne Manor beating the hell out of a heavy bag, one punch after another. Every now and then he’d change his stance, or back up slightly and give it a firm kick, and then he’d go right back to punching it.
He didn’t know how long he’d been at it, Damian, Jason, Timothy, Steph, Babs, Bruce, hell even Lois Lane living in his father’s house was freaking him out. And he spent what felt like hours beating up his punching bag in honor of every single one of them. Everything that happened since he’d gotten to this place where everyone was different and he was trying to punch it all out. He didn’t have many people to get angry at. Not even Babs had a clue who he was, and if he couldn’t throw a fit at her, and she couldn’t tell him what to do to fix everything he was screwed.
He wasn’t going to give up, there had to be an answer. And if it meant running around with Damian and Jason Todd on a fucking mission from God he would do it. He was dressed in black exercise pants and a grey tank top that was sticky with sweat, his black hair was practically plastered to his forehead he was breathing heavily and his hands were starting to ache a bit. He didn’t stop. If he couldn’t holler at all of them, he’d work out his frustration another way. It was cold in the room but he didn’t notice, the window was open and the cold December air was blowing in with a breeze. He barely noticed. But there was one thing he noticed, “What do you want?” he practically growled into the room when his instincts just spoke up and told him someone was at the window.
Selina had gone darkside, but that didn't mean the kitty cat had stopped prowling around Wayne manor. She was staying at the greenhouse these days, but there was always a warm bed for a cat to curl up in at the manor, and she was an expert at getting in and out unnoticed now. She knew where every alarm trigger was, where every laser hid, where every camera filmed. It was a game, moving around a place so filled with trinkets, and deciding which one to help herself to. She usually went for the jewels. She borrowed some, put some back, borrowed some others. She kept the ones she liked most - a set of pearls and an emerald hair clip. She'd long since given her favorite prize to her kitten - a bracelet with the Wayne name engraved and set with stones - but that was only right. After all, the kitten had every right to that surname. Even if Selina didn't see her much these days, she was still happy Helena had found a place with Bruce.
She was on her way out when she heard the sounds coming from behind the closed window. The kitty cat could have padded her way right out the front door, but she liked roofs and scaling walls, and she was on her way down when she stopped and listened.
Finding the window in question was kitten's play, and Selina shoved the glass open and crouched on the sill. She was dressed in the suit, but she had her cowl down, and her goggles were perched atop her inky black hair. She settled on the sill, obviously planning on staying for a visit, her back against the side and her feet climbing up the opposite side of the sill. "Maybe I'm here to defend the punching bag," she purred.
She knew her own version of Dickie. Hers wore red, but otherwise, she didn't see a lot of differences. Maybe if she clawed beneath the surface, but she wasn't clawing just then. She knew he'd expect her to be older, but she was used to that now. In a decade, maybe she'd be what everyone expected of her. Maybe not. The kitty cat didn't like worrying about the future. She lived in the now, and the now said there was one very, very angry little nightbird that needed talking down. "Let me guess, the punching bag wanted you to destroy a Pit, and then it wanted you to come to Christmas dinner once you were done?"
He kept hitting it, he didn’t let up but he did hear her speak and he snorted a bit while she connected the dots. It didn’t surprise him, not really. She wasn’t the Catwoman he knew, but she was close. He hoped. He’d heard she was into switching sides, but he didn’t actually feel like he, or the house, was in any great danger. “Then it lost it’s memory, then it threw a temper tantrum, then it pushed me away, then it had no idea who the hell I even was, I could go on.” But he didn’t.
When he finally stopped he took a deep breath and turned to look at the woman in his window sill, he shook his head slightly and looked at the ground. “Word on the street is you’re running with a new crowd?”
Selina had no idea about the situation with Oracle. Even before her change of heart, she'd been on the outside more and more often. When it was just her and the baby bird, she knew everything that happened on the bat side of the world. But now there were robins, and the kitty cat didn't quite fit in like she used to. "Who lost their memory?" she asked, honestly sounding confused for a second. But tantrums? All the birds were prone to those, and her lips widened in a new grin. "As for tantrums? That's a requirement to be a bird in the Bat's nest, unless you're talking about a tantrum in particular?" she asked.
When he turned to look at her, she climbed off the sill and crawled onto the bed, all feline movements and comfortable cat as she stretched out on her stomach to watch him. "You know how kitty cats can be."
“Barbara,” he said simply but his voice was heavy with emotion, anger and frustration all pent up he couldn’t talk to any of them about this. He had to be caring and inviting and warm for Stephanie, strong and of sound mind to keep Bruce involved, concerned and firm with Damian, just plain firm with Timothy. “I’m talking about a tantrum in particular,” he didn’t elaborate, but Stephanie and Tim were becoming exceptionally good at it. “I’m worried,” he said and closed his mouth his jaw clenching firmly. He paced a little not sure where to go or what to do, he wanted to keep punching the heavy bag that was now behind him, but it actually wasn’t doing much to fix anything. So he looked over and focused on Selina, she was something new in the room, a new focal point. “I know how this particular kitty cat can be as well. Just don’t stray off too far, Selina.”
"Batgirl?" Selina asked. "I didn't know she was here." Because the kitty cat knew Babs. They'd hated each other at first, but they'd come around, and Babs had helped her during a particularly sticky encounter with a Talon. But Babs was her age, and she wasn't a Barbara, which meant (again) that she wasn't the same Babs she knew. "Let me guess? Not my Babs. What happened to her?" she asked, that sting of exclusion sharp and pointed as a kitten's claw.
"Kitty cats are good at straying," she told him, all purr and lush lips, but she sighed a moment later, and she sat up on the bed and gave him a look that was honesty instead of seduction. "Fingerstripes, this little family has problems. You might have noticed? Me being gone might help Feathers come flying home, since I was part of running him off."
No one had called Babs Batigrl in ages and he furrowed his brow a bit, “Not for a long time,” he said and realized she probably had a different Babs, which was confirmed. “No, apparently not. My Babs, she’s our voice of reason. Our eyes and ears. Well she went down to the cave, Crane gassed her, she hit her head and now she’s all mixed up. She doesn’t remember any of us, and we could really use her. Stephanie could really use her.”
He crossed the room and sat down on the edge of his bed with his back to her, his elbows on his knees as he rubbed his face tiredly. “I know, just don’t stray too far. Makes it harder to come back.” He shook his head and sighed again, “I’m as much to blame for Tim running off as anyone else. It was my fault back home, and he’s still pissed. But he can’t see past it, and he’s never going to be okay again until he can.” He looked over his shoulder at Selina with a serious look on his face, “I wasn’t wrong,” he said firmly. “I made the right call.” He didn’t know if she had any idea what he was talking about, but there was no one here but Damian who would agree with him. No one remembered, understood, or knew.
"My Babs was Batgirl. Red hair, vain, and really good with a bo staff," she explained, and even the comment about Babs' vanity sounded impressed; she liked Babs - begrudgingly. "We don't have Steph where I'm from. She doesn't exist at all," she explained, and it was nice to talk about differences. It was too easy to pretend those people she'd known had never existed, and that wasn't fair to them. "I guess you miss your cat, just like I miss my Red."
Selina sat up straighter when he mentioned Crane, tension suffusing the kitty's shoulders. "Why did Crane gas her?" she asked. Gassing the cave was a bold move for Crane, and Crane was never, ever bold. She tipped her head when he mentioned Feathers, all curious cat. "What happened with Feathers? He's not mine either. He hates me because of something that happened in his timeline, something that made the Bat weaker, but he won't tell me what," she explained, and there was a question there too. The kitty cat didn't voice, the question, but it was still there. "And who says I'm coming back?" she asked, perhaps belatedly.
“I have no idea, that would require someone to actually tell me what is going on around here, the best I can tell is that he gassed the cave and she went to check it out and now here we are. She doesn’t remember anything,” which made getting the story out of anyone that much more complicated. “He’s mad at me over something that happened in our shared timeline. When Bruce - died - or left rather, when he wasn’t around and I was Batman, Damian was my Robin. And not Tim. He never forgave me for that, and went off looking for Bruce. He was right, Bruce wasn’t dead - but I wasn’t wrong to pick Damian either.”
He looked at her again his eyebrow raised, before turning his head again his eyes trained on the wall in front of him, “There was a bad guy, Hush...Things got out of hand, but you and Bruce, well our Selina and Bruce were working together on a few things during that time. Trying to find out the plot to end all murderous plots. It was when Batman told Catwoman who he really was. There was a thing, it was dramatic. But when it was all said and done he had concerns that you knew more than you were letting on. He didn’t trust his feelings anymore than he trusted you. Which we have all dealt with plenty of times on our own - but then a few more games of romantic cat and mouse later, and bad got worse and you almost died. And then Bruce did die. It’s not what you did. It’s just who you are, and what you mean to everyone that has Tim spooked.”
"Is it permanent?" she asked about Barbara? She was already trying to work out what Crane was doing, why, and she didn't like the things that were coming to mind. "Did they do anything to keep it from happening again? It didn't stay, right? Whatever his gas did? Are they sure it isn't time delayed like the one he got Bruce and Jaybird with?" A pause, because no, Crane liked his old tricks, but going to the cave was a risk, especially just to rehash something. "What if it was a test? A precursor? Something to see if he could do it?" she suggested. His person in Las Vegas had been saying something bad was coming; maybe this was it. The kitty cat didn't like it, and it took a second longer than it should have for her to focus on the story about Feathers. "Feathers keeps getting passed over," she said thoughtfully. "It doesn't help that he's unpleasant, Dickie," she added. Because whatever the reason, Feathers just rubbed her fur in the wrong direction, and no kitty cat liked that.
She wasn't expecting a straight answer about why she was a threat; no one had been willing to give her one so far. She sat forward once she realized he was actually going to be straight with her, closer to his back and chin almost on his shoulder as she listened. "This isn't your Bat, and I'm not that Cat. If Bruce had any interest in me meowing at him, he would have wrapped his cape around me months ago." She shook her head, and she looked toward the window. "My Bat followed me over every rooftop, and he was always there when I fell," she said, looking back at him a second later, this time as she settled beside him on the bed. "We all lost things coming here, Dick, and everyone is trying to figure out where they fit." She gave him a tip of her head, and knowing look. "Even you. Damian and Helena will be fine. They have each other, and they have you, and Bruce gives them more than he gives any of the others. Feathers needs to feel like he isn't an afterthought. He took it badly when I sent you to Metropolis, and the kitty cat needs to keep her paws out of this family if you ever want him back. He won't stay as long as I'm here. Steph-" Here she shook her head. "Steph is in love, Dickie. And Jaybird needs daddy to admit he was wrong not to kill Joe."
“I don’t know!” he said frustrated. “I have no idea, these are all really valid questions but I don’t know anything. I hate not being here all the time. I show up and everyone’s gone half crazy and I can’t help any of them. Well except Damian, he may not always listen to me, but he does talk to me.” He slumped his shoulders slightly, “He’s not an afterthought, he never has been. He and Stephanie both need to stop feeling like they don’t belong here, because they’re the only ones who seem to think that.” And it made no sense to Dick whatsoever. He furrowed his brow, “Who is Steph in love with?” not that the idea was completely out of the realm of possibility, but she’d sounded so alone and felt so alone every time they talked that he didn’t think there was someone making her not alone. “Jason has to know that will never happen.” Dick turned to look at her next to him and smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes at all, “You don’t have to run around with a bad crowd just because your paws aren’t in the family, it’s not one or the other. And you’re not our Cat, and he’s not our Bat...But that doesn’t mean we can’t figure something out. No one has to fall and not get caught, but I don’t have enough arms to catch everyone either.”
She wasn't surprised by his outburst. Dickie was the demonstrative bird, after all. And she understood his frustration too. Blondie let her through once a day, as a rule, and she still felt out of the loop more often than not. "You can't tell Steph and Feathers to feel included, Dick. That has to happen organically. And Steph has her tail all wrapped around Eddie. It's trouble, I know, but if you try to do anything about it then you'll end up with Romeo and Juliet, and you don't want that. She thinks he's like me - Eddie. She thinks she's playing the same game Damian and I play. She doesn't think she's good enough to be in the nest, and I'll give you one guess where she's getting that idea." As for being alone, being on the outside did that all by itself. No one knew that better than the kitty cat. She shook her head when he said Bruce would never admit he should have killed Joe. "Maybe if he tells him that he wanted to," she suggested. She'd seen enough of this Bat to know that rage was there, to know he probably had wanted to. It wasn't perfect, but it was something. She reached out a hand, and she brushed inky locks off his forehead. "You can't catch everyone, but before you came, they didn't have anyone to talk to. You're good for them, Dick, and you're good for Bruce. Give Feathers and Steph time, and it'll be better."
“It’s hard to include them when they’re pushing me away. Steph is pushing Damian away, she’s telling me we don’t want her here and we do. I do. But she won’t listen. It can’t happen if she’s not actually open to it happening either,” it made no sense to him. But Dick was pushy, and if someone didn’t want him around he pushed and nuzzled until they did. He didn’t have to like everyone, he could punch Jason in the face - but he was doing his best to view this as a second chance. And then... “Eddie? Eddie who?”
“We’ve all wanted to,” he said and it was clear he didn’t necessarily mean Joe. They all had their own Joes to deal with at one time or another. “But that’s what makes us who we are. I didn’t want what happened to Jason, what he couldn’t control about himself - and what I can hardly blame him for most of the time - I didn’t want that to happen to Damian, Selina. That’s why I picked him. That’s why he matters. Bruce was gone and Damian needed it more than Timmy did, he needed it. Bruce was my father too. I’ve known Bruce longer than I even knew my own father. I wasn’t going to let Damian turn into something he didn’t deserve to turn into. What Talia did to him, he needed Robin as much as I needed to make sure Batman’s legacy was secure. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone. I meant to save someone. And I did. And all of a sudden I get here and my hands are tied?” His voice was cracking slightly, he wasn’t crying - though if any member of the Batfamily was going to Dick was one who was certainly not ashamed of it. Hugs and emotions were higher on his priority list than they were everyone elses.
"Steph feels like she has to choose between Eddie and the family. Eddie. Nigma. Riddler." Her Riddler was a mastermind, one that was behind at least one set of murders that she'd personally been involved in. But she got the feeling that this one was much older and, unfortunately, the kitty cat was afraid that meant he had more blood beneath his claws. "I talked to him. He's unimpressed with the Bat. He's unimpressed with the villains. He's bored. Steph makes him not be bored anymore. And he gives her his full attention, which doesn't happen here. Damian, even before you came, was busy with me. Feathers is always with Helena. She's alone, Dick. Bruce barely has time for anyone. Being alone is hard."
She couldn't argue about wanting to kill someone at some point. The Bat usually stayed her hand, and she couldn't promise that Crane would live if he ended up wound up in her whip. She understood. And she understood that what made them better than her, was the fact that she needed someone to stop her; she always had. But his reasoning behind choosing Damian, that was something the kitty cat couldn't argue with. "You're right about the baby bird. I spent months getting him to a point where he and Bruce were interacting. I pulled him back from the Talons and, just a few weeks ago, I kept him from going back to his grandfather. He was so much potential, but he's so young. He needs guidance more than any of the others, does my Dami," she said fondly. There wasn't much point in pretending now, was there? At least for this conversation. "Your hands aren't tied, little nightbird," she told him, fingers dragging along his cheek before she sat back once more. "It just feels that way."
“She needs Babs, Babs got through to her once before - but...Babs isn’t really here right now,” he said seriously, and it was written all over his face that Riddler was not someone he wanted Steph running around with. He didn’t think anyone should be running around with him. He was a bad guy. A real bad guy. Steph didn’t come from the greatest place, and she had potential to do so much good, Bruce knew it. And Dick trusted Bruce’s judgment. But he also trusted Babs, and she trusted Stephanie. “This is bad, Selina.”
The fondness was a nice change, if a little odd because where he came from fondness for Damian wasn’t always Catwoman’s specialty. But he had heard the tone. Usually she was purring about Bruce, or purring about Dick helping her find Bruce or find something that suited her needs. It was familiar. He closed his eyes when she touched his face because it was familiar. And it was about the only thing that was anymore. Go figure. He sighed and shook his head, “I know that, but how am I supposed to find the balance? Someone is always going to feel worse off than someone else. And we can’t live our lives like that, they can’t. It’s not a competition. Jason saw it as a competition. Damian sees it that way from time to time, but it’s really not.”
"We make do," she said of Babs not being herself. "When I first got here, eleven months ago, it was just me, and Damian, and Bruce. Bruce didn't know either of us, and he hadn't even heard of us. The baby bird and I, at least we knew of each other. Our worlds differed, but they had the same people, the same names, and we both missed the same person more than either of us would ever admit, and we made it okay for each other when Bruce didn't know what to do with either of us meowing or flapping our wings at him. We made do. Steph doesn't have the Babs she knew. But she has everyone else, and she has this Babs. Feathers and Damian get hurt feelings, which means the rest of you have to be solid." His gaze told her everything she needed to know about his version of Eddie, and she had to agree that it sounded like a bad, bad thing. "Turning her against him won't work," she warned him. "Invite Eddie to Christmas," she suggested, since it seemed to be the kitten's solution for everything.
"They're teenage boys, Dickie. Everything is a competition when you're a teenage boy," the kitty cat said, the obvious voice of reason when it came to such things. "Bruce is trying," she said, and there was that fondness. Not quite a purr, but close enough. "But he's better with Damian than with any of the others. One positive word, and Damian turns himself inside out for him. Let the baby bird help you. He'll impress you if you treat him like he's old enough to leave the nest." She shook her head. "You have to live where you live, Dick. Don't worry about finding the balance. This is Gotham. Next week might not even happen. Day-by-day, Dickie."
He was mad that he hadn’t been here earlier, he was mad that Damian had to be without Bruce (in a way) on his own. Dick was still operating in a protective teaching mode when it came to Damian and he didn’t think that was something he would be able to let go of easily. “Thank you for looking out for him,” he said, and it was clear he meant it. It was always easier for he and Selina to antagonize each other - it usually came from a good place - but despite their differences she was right. They did, at least, know of each other. “I don’t see how she’s not already turned against him, she’s from my world, Selina. She knows better. After everything she’s overcome and succeeded at despite everyone waiting for her to screw up. Bruce ran her ragged, and he tested her hard, but she did it and she’s brave and good. I thought we were passed all the ‘will she or won’t she’ crap with her.” Stephanie had a complicated past, between Spoiler and her problems with Tim, and her problems with Bruce, and her taking up Batgirl from Cassandra after everything went to hell...She was one of the good ones. “I’m not inviting him to Christmas,” he said incredulously. “I can do a lot of things, and I can tolerate a lot of things, but everything I explained to you earlier? That mess with you and Bruce? Eddie had a huge part in that,” he said his fists clenching again, he wasn’t sure if he was feeling better or worse. What he did know is that he was feeling sick to his stomach.
“I trust Damian,” he said seriously. “I do trust him to help, and he impresses me every day, I couldn’t be more impressed if he was my kid. Damian and I will never be an issue, it’s Stephanie and Tim I’m worried about. And Jason, what happened there was wrong, but I’ve seen it happen before and I’ll be god damned if I let that turn out the way it did the first time.”
Selina smiled that lush, kitty cat smile. "Oh, don't thank me, Dickie. You know I'm not a saint, and I only claw at things when I want to," she said, because her relationship with Damian was complicated. "He reminds me so much of his father," she added, an afterthought, something she wouldn't have said if she'd stopped to think about it. But thinking before she leapt wasn't the kitty cat's strong point, and it was too late to teach this old kitten new tricks. Damian reminded her more of her Bat than this Bat did, but then she'd never known Bruce Wayne, and maybe that's where the difference lived. As for Stephanie, Selina just quirked a brow in a black, inky arch over knowing, bright green. "Talk to Eddie. He's charming. He seems earnest. I can't even tell if he's playing her, though I'm inclined to think this is just a game for him, like all his other games. His own personal riddle, but he's good, Dick." She grinned when he said he wasn't inviting Nigma to Christmas dinner. "Don't invite him to Christmas, but it might help to see both of them on neutral ground, Dick. Sometimes you have to get your hands dirty," she explained, and she waved the fingers of one hand in front of his face. Wasn't she getting her hands dirty with Ra's? Just to find out what he had in store for the littlest bird? But curiosity always got the best of Selina in the end, every time, like clockwork. "What did he have to do with our little problem? Because this is definitely your Eddie, Dick. He says he's ages old, and no one in my world was ages old."
Jaybird was a harder topic, and it made her sigh. "I've tried with Jaybird. He was living with me after he got hit with the toxin. But I haven't been able to get through to him. I might be able to, with time, but the kitty cat didn't get a lot of time. He's all tied up in Ivy's stems. Your little birds like the darkside, Dickie."
“You’re not a saint, but no one has to be. None of us are. But I think we should definitely be trading stories more often, because it looks like we’ve got good halves of information,” he said forcing another smile. He didn’t have many other choices at this point. Maybe go back to New York. But was there anything there at all? There were at least people here who needed him.
“My little birds should know better,” he said angrily. “We’ve all been down this road. But now it seems like Tim is pulling away too. I can’t stop any of it can I?”
"You have to let them all grow up," she said, standing from the bed and stepping in front of him, where she looked down, all understanding green eyes and inky hair. "You have to let Bruce find his way, and you have to let the birds find theirs, and all you can do is remind them what the right path is and hope they flutter onto it." It wasn't easy advice, she knew, but it was true advice.
She leaned down, and she kissed his cheek, all chaste kitten and purr, and then she straightened and gave him a lush lipped smile. "I changed sides, remember? I'm not supposed to be meowing at you," she said, corkscrewing one of his inky black locks around one finger, and then letting it bounce against his forehead. But she didn't say she wouldn't, did she? No, she just made her way back to the window, sway and grace as she climbed up onto the sill again. "Take care of Bruce."
He didn’t like being the grown up. He and Bruce - odd as it was - complemented each other in their “parenting” styles once he was grown. The idea that the others were fending for themselves with only him hoping that they made the right decisions was enough to make him angry again. But Dick didn’t do angry, that was for Bruce and Damian. That was for Jason. “I hate that answer, and,” he smiled slightly, this one was almost real. “I’m pretty sure my Bruce heard that about me more than once when I left for New York.”
He smiled up at her where she stood and shrugged. “I think we’ll be able to work something out, you can meow all you want, Selina. Take care and keep in touch. Call me if you need anything,” he said. When she spoke from the window he nodded, “I always do.” And then she was gone and he was crossing the room to go back to his heavy bag.