Narrative: Iris M. Who: Iris (and some other!Selina, thanks to Epi) What: A time jump, A friend, A baby Where: Gotham City When: Recently Warnings/Rating: No?
Ra's al Ghul. The thought had woven itself through her very soul. She maybe could have coped if he was actually Gray. If the secret identity had been real. If the mind within had matched the body without. If he had simply been a man, maybe she could have coped.
But she knew who he was. She'd read the comics, seen the movies, witnessed the chaos that had spread through Gotham. All while she'd remained safe under the hand of the man that had orchestrated it all. She knew about Damian, she knew about Bruce. She knew the way they were all connected.
She knew the way that living in Gray's home had made her feel safer than she had in years, safe and cared for (cared about), and that turned her stomach. Why did this keep happening to her? Was it something inside of her that called like magnetic poles to the evil in others? Why did she continue to find herself in the company of men who looked to the pain or destruction of others? And now -- now she was carrying another soul that would get knotted into the same awful web of the world. And whether the child was innocent or carried some deep trace of its father... either way, it could not be allowed. She couldn't allow the past to continue to repeat itself.
So she ran.
Through a door into the hotel, feet bare and in light clothing because of the warmth of where she'd come from. Thoughts still pounding with the hammers of fear and villains, she slipped blindly along the hallways, hand trailing along the wall, along stairway banisters, and finally coming to rest on a different door. She only needed someplace to hide, to figure out what she was going to do. Or to have the decision taken from her hands. The door was cold to the touch, and when she pushed through, it left her in the middle of a forest, trees thick and grasping at her clothing, her hair, her skin. She stumbled along, feet quickly going chilled in the thick snow, cheeks red where they weren't scratched by branches, fingers pale and then grey with the cold.
She walked until time didn't make sense, until her unfeeling foot caught a root beneath the snow, and then she fell. Fluff of white around her, and it felt... warm. And that answered the question of what she was going to do. The cold had decided for her. It had decided that she could just... lay down.
***
"Sleeping in an alley with no shoes on? Tsk."
The voice drew her back. The voice and the hum of traffic somewhere nearby. Even though she remembered having been in the forest. But no, there was the throb of a headache splitting behind her eyes and the (familiar) smell of garbage and rubber and things she didn't want to identify. The shivering started before she even turned over, greeted by dark hair and a smile and a pair of green eyes. Those eyes shifted down for a second before an elegant brow rose at a belly just round enough to notice.
"Not a kitten then, momma cat. Let's get you taken care of."
***
We've treated your cuts and frostbite and the hypothermia. ...and the baby's going to be just fine. You're lucky that you weren't out in the cold much longer, though.
Miss?
Miss, it's alright...
Here, here's some tissues...
***
"You don't understand, I meant to... the cold was supposed to... end everything."
"Supposed to end everything. Honestly. The cold doesn't care, and it isn't supposed to do anything. This is Gotham, kitten. Time to grow some claws."
***
Since you qualify for our Healthy Mothers, Healthy Babies program, The Wayne Foundation will be able to help you with shelter and prenatal care during your pregnancy. And we can be of aid in finding you schooling or employment once the child is born. ...Please fill out these forms.
***
Congratulations! It's a boy...
***
And now, presenting the graduates in this year's nursing program...
***
"Selina, no... emeralds are too much. I can't wear them, I don't want to know where you got them, and what's the guy at the pawn shop going to think?"
"He's not going to think anything. It's a pawn-"
"...Mama?"
"Hey, sweetie. Did we wake you up? ...You want to come sit with us for a while? As long as it's okay with Selina."
"Someone's gotten big. Come here, kitten, and tell your momma cat you're always welcome."
***
In today's class, I'm going to show you how to react if someone comes at you with a knife. We'll be doing some of the same exercises as last class, but it gets more complicated now.
***
"And don't start crying when you drop him off at preschool."
"I don't think I'm going to have much control over that."
***
"Seliiiina! You came!"
"I wouldn't miss this, kitten. Your sixth birthday is a big one."
"...Thank you for coming. He's been talking about this for weeks."
***
The alarm went off far earlier than Iris thought it had any right to. She'd gotten in late the night before to TJ's sitter nearly falling asleep on the sofa. But there'd been an emergency in the city - moreso even than usual - and she'd been pulled at the end of her Pediatrics shift to help in the ER as the ambulances poured in, the extra hands needed to staunch the flow of blood from Gotham's citizens.
But emergencies didn't mean that school started any later, and she'd (mostly) managed her shifts so that she could always be there to see that her son got out the door safe and fed and ready every morning. He wasn't awake yet, but he would be soon, and breakfast would be at the top of the list of things that needed to be done. With a groan, she rolled over and reached out for the clock on her tiny nightstand, her hand encountering something else instead.
She fumbled with it as it fell on the floor, the alarm's beeping still relentless. Finally managing to smack the thing at the right angle to shut it off, she flopped onto her back and frowned. What would she have left on her bedside table? Was it something TJ had put there? The sitter? Sometimes she left mail there so that Iris wouldn't miss it. Selina? There'd been more than once that she'd "broken in" and left things in the apartment for her and TJ. Eyes closed, she felt herself drifting off again, and rolled onto her stomach to peer over the side of the mattress instead.
It was a book. It was a familiar book. One she hadn't seen in about seven years.