WHO Selina and Stephanie. WHAT Mourning a baby bird. WHEN Recently, before the bomb. WHERE A Gotham rooftop. Where else? WARNING sads. lots of sads.
Gotham was cold. Well, Gotham was always cold in the winter. Being so close to the ocean gave the city one of those miserable East Coast winters every year; the harbor never helped matters either. Weekly storms left piles of snow lining the sidewalks and frozen across the icy rooftops above. Icicles hung from awnings, dripping dirty water on pedestrians during the day and freezing back over at night. It was one of those winters that people complained about constantly, and it was cold. Icy cold, cold enough to seep through cracks in kevlar and make for a very miserable patrol for bats on the prowl. Batgirl tried her best to keep moving though, and she wore more insulation underneath bulky black armor. She wasn’t one really built for the cold. She liked warm spring days where she could spread out on the campus quad with her homework or go on long walks with her riddled man and the dog before patrol. Cold wasn’t really conducive for bats.
And, well. That wasn’t the only reason this godforsaken city seemed chilly and dull over the last month. Sure, Stephanie had plenty to keep her life fulfilled. Her grades were pretty great (a generous mix of As and Bs), her friends were loving, her job shadowing was going well. She had the love of her life around, and soon, they would begin working on moving in together. For all intents and purposes, Stephanie Brown had a wonderful life for an almost twenty-one year old. But, there was something missing, wasn’t there? Hanging in the shadows of her mind, dragging her down every now and then, having her cling to Eddie a little harder or linger a little longer in bed. Sometimes, she lost herself a little and took down a goon a little harshly or burst into tears at home. Grief was a funny thing in that way. It snuck up on her time and time again, a constant reminder of what they had all lost and would never, ever, ever get back.
Damian’s loss haunted her dreams and hung in the corner of her waking hours. Patrolling sometimes didn’t feel right, in the same way everything didn’t feel right. He couldn’t do it anymore; why should she enjoy it? She was so incredibly lucky to have her riddled man there to keep her steady and calm, so lucky for a family tentatively together to support each other, so lucky for a patriarch who actually recognized her worth. She hoped her little brother would be happy about that. But, that still didn’t give her any closure, and she was sure that nothing would ever completely heal the wound that Damian’s death created. She knew that things like this would only get better with time.
She did, however, have something that might bring her a little step closer. Perched on the edge of the roof a building just on the outskirts of Old Gotham, the blonde bat figured this was a safe spot for the kitty cat to be with someone from the family. If she wanted to move the party elsewhere, Stephanie wouldn’t be opposed. In the distance on one side loomed Blackgate City, and in the other direction, Wayne Tower’s lights glowed in the night sky. Tucked away in one of the pockets of her utility belt was a small wooden box containing some of the remains of Damian’s Robin costume. She’d divvied up the rest in similar boxes for members of the family, each to be giving out after this rendezvous. She wanted to have her little moment first. With company, of course.
Selina hated showing weakness. She hated showing that she cared. She hated letting herself feel vulnerable. She hated all those things that she'd almost come to admit to feeling when she'd been here the first time around. As a kitten, she'd let her guard down. She'd fallen in love with this city, with a family that wasn't hers, with the promise of a life that she had no right too. And then she'd gone away, and it had all been gone. In a blink, the city was different, and that family didn't know her, and she'd promised herself she would never, ever need anyone again. Those first months back home, they'd been hell; the kitty cat didn't like hell.
And that hell had been filled with regrets, and one of the biggest was the baby bird. Oh, Selina had loved him. She could admit that to herself now, because there wasn't much danger in admitting something when the person was dead and never coming back. For one blink on a balcony in the desert, she'd thought something would actually come of it. Stupid kitty cat, and she'd scared Damian off, and it had never been the same. And then she'd gotten to know this Bat, and everything changed. Damian, the little bird that he'd been, had reminded her so much of her Bat. All that anger, all that arrogance, all that entitlement and confidence. That was her Bat to a T. This man, the one that lived behind this cowl, he was kinder, quieter, different. But she'd come here, all those years ago, in love with a very different Bat, and Damian had been a small version of that man.
And Selina missed him. She'd missed him before she'd gone, when he'd come to hate her for a little USB that hadn't ever been meant for him. She'd missed him while she was away, when he died in another world without her even knowing until months later. She'd missed him here, after seeing him in Wayne Manor only months earlier. But there was no turning back the clock, no changing anything, and she wasn't even sure that she was allowed to mourn for someone who had hated and been disappointed in her in the end.
But despite all that, Selina had come. She knew she should have told Stephanie no. After all, Eddie or Cass could help her honor Damian's memory. It would have been better, and that was precisely what she intended to tell the little blonde bat.
Selina found Stephanie easily enough, catsuit and whip and utility belt; there was no need to hide anymore, and she thought maybe she needed the reminder of who she was, at least these days. She climbed onto the roof, and the kitty cat made no attempt to employ her usual stealth. After all, hiding wasn't the point here, was it? "You know," she said in the darkness, looking toward Gotham's lights in the distance, "I think you're giving me credit for being much more sentimental than I am." And maybe Stephanie would believe it. After all, Eddie always got her wrong. Maybe his lover would too.
Stephanie hadn’t laid eyes on Selina since she returned different, and that had been almost a year since that happened. Sure, she’d spoken to the kitty cat, and she’d heard first hand from Eddie things about Selina. But, Steph wanted to see the kitty first hand, and she knew that some of the things had that typical Eddie slant to it. Not malicious or anything, but just in the way that Eddie expected things. The riddled man expected the kitty cat to be the same as his was, whatever iteration that might be. He sometimes got lost in the should bes and didn’t consider how different things could be in this door. It wasn’t his fault, not really. He was a man well beyond all of their years, and he was more used to Gotham’s ways than any of them. He had seen Gotham more than any of them. Still, Stephanie knew that she needed to see the kitty cat for herself, if only to be able to discern her own opinion.
The blonde bat didn’t jump at the kitty’s older, sultry purr; the lack of stealthiness in Selina’s arrival was and wasn’t a surprise. Stephanie turned to look over her shoulder and could make out the other woman enough in the darkness to tell the stark differences from the younger cat she once knew. This Selina, the one who stood in the shadows on that Gotham roof, was probably half way between the Selina of this Gotham and the Catwoman of Stephanie’s Gotham. The one who tried to help the blonde bat when she royally screwed up and started a war, the one who she still clashed with despite that. Stephanie smiled at the other woman softly. For the most part, she had been fond of this kitty, aside from the few instances of frustration or hurt that Gotham liked to boil up.
“You want me to pretend to believe that?” Stephanie asked, chin resting on her shoulder and smile sharpening to needling smirk. The Batgirl smirk. The one goons saw during a quip. The blonde bat was older than the last time Selina had seen her, too, but that was only because of the passage of time. Her blonde hair didn’t spill down her shoulders anymore (though it was growing out longer), and her blue eyes carried a heaviness that losing a baby bird brother and living in this goddamn city gave to everyone. “I can, if you want, but I’ve always had a really bad poker face.”
Selina shrugged, casual grace and I don't care in the carefully schooled gesture. "You can believe what you want, kitten. Just don't blame me if you end up getting clawed." It was said with a smile, a purr, something easy that bordered on teasing. Oh, no, she wasn't the little kitten that had been here the year before, and it showed.
The Cat approached the edge of the roof slowly, no hurry and none of the youthful eagerness that she'd worn on her sleeve when her hair had been shorter and her smile had been easier and more genuine. She looked Stephanie over with curious eyes the color of moss, her goggles pushed atop hair that was long and loose. "You haven't changed much," she said, though Stephanie had a little. It was the kind of comment that begged for a reaction, and Selina loved reactions. People told the kitty cat so very much without meaning to sometimes. In the end, it was the sadness in Stephanie's eyes that made Selina sigh, shoulders going a little more relaxed as a result. "You should have asked Jaybird," she told her honestly.
Selina's green gaze turned toward the city, rooftops and all of Gotham's many sins. Home, and she had missed it. "I saw Damian a few weeks before he died. It didn't go well," she admitted, though she found it very, very likely that Stephanie already knew that. She wasn't big on full disclosure, but she respected the dead in ways that most people might not expect from her. She wasn't sure why it mattered, that confession, but it did; she didn't want Stephanie thinking things were something they weren't, just in case Damian had kept the encounter to himself.
Stephanie smirked again and rolled her eyes. “I’m used to getting clawed up, honestly. Part of the hazards of the job.” Sure, the blonde bat and the kitty had never physically sparred in this Gotham, but there were times where she and the Cat butted heads back in the day. Selina might have tried to help Stephanie now and again, but there were also times where they fell on their respective sides of Gotham and couldn’t help butting heads.
With one hand as balance, she swung her legs down and out to simply sit on the edge, a sign of comfort and trust in the kitty that maybe she shouldn’t have. Weren’t she and Eddie fighting? Would Selina use that as an excuse to get all bent out of shape or snide with the blonde bat? Stephanie didn’t really wonder about it that much, and she always had a particular knack for trusting people far more than she should. And, she trusted the cat, even if the comment about change rankled under her skin a little. Kevlar shoulder stiffened, and she rolled her neck to look up at mature, mossy eyes. “You can believe whatever you want,” the blonde bat threw back. Stephanie was determined that she had changed so very much in the last year. Maybe not physically, but in other ways.
She shrugged off the tension, however, and looked out to the Gotham skyline again. “Jason and I aren’t BFFs, and I doubt he’d want to spend time with little old me. No matter what the reason.” Steph had tension with all of the family members at this point, and Jason was no exception. And, she thought it was important to have Selina there instead of all the other birds. Selina knew Damian better than the rest of them. “Really?” Steph asked as she turned around again and shook her head. “He didn’t mention anything about it. Why did it go bad?” Then, she rolled her eyes at herself and waved her hand. “I mean, I can imagine. What happened though?”
Selina quirked a brow when Stephanie said she was used to getting clawed up. "I didn't think you were the type," she teased, though she knew that Stephanie hadn't meant anything sexual. But she didn't have any history with the little blonde bat. In fact, she didn't have much of a history with any of the little birds in Bruce's nest, and she'd been having trouble finding her footing since she'd come back. Part of her hoped that would change, now that Ivy had returned, seemingly a little more like the Ivy she'd known. Ivy and Harley, and maybe that was where she belonged, because she certainly didn't feel like she belonged anywhere else, not these days. And the kitty cat hated being dull and serious, and she wanted things to go back to the way they'd been before Blackgate City.
The kitty cat watched as the blonde took her trusting little seat on the edge of the roof. She didn't think about Edward, really, because Stephanie was Stephanie, and she wasn't buying into the fact that they were one in the same. And she chuckled when Stephanie's shoulders stiffened, pleased to have gotten her reaction. "Can I?" she asked of believing whatever she wanted. There was a smile in that question, something that said the kitty cat knew better. So, whatever changes Stephanie felt she'd undergone in the past year, the little blonde bat thought they were very, very important. Selina kept her own counsel on that, too.
"Still having family troubles?" Selina asked, the question a response to Stephanie's comment about Jaybird. Oh, she knew the Batfamily was falling apart, but there wasn't much she could do about it. Anyway, she wasn't in any kind of loop these days, and it was time to let the little birds figure things out for themselves. Her meddling there had died with Damian, and it hadn't ever done the baby bird any good anyway. And speaking of the baby bird, Selina was actually surprised he hadn't told Stephanie about his visit. "He came into Bruce's room looking for his falcon, and I was there, recovering from Blackgate. It was a bad start," she admitted, though nothing had been going on with her and Bruce at the time. "He was depressed," she finally added, after a few minutes. Would it help for Stephanie to hear that? Maybe not, but she suspected the blonde bat already knew that little tidbit. "And I was old and boring," she added, a grin coming with those words, the hurt of that buried somewhere deep.
Stephanie couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her lips. “Aren’t all Gothamites the type?” she asked with a wiggle of her eyebrows that might rival one of Eddie’s. The blonde bat joked about sexual things with everyone in the same way that she did with her riddled man. It was easier being comfortable with herself that way. She didn’t have slinky curves and a purr that drew men from miles away; Stephanie had jokes to crack and a lightness that seemed foreign to Gotham. A blonde bat in bright purple with a grin on her lips and a joy that someone who had seen all that she’d seen shouldn’t have. She did huff in a very young way at Selina’s prodding and that smile she heard in the kitty cat’s voice, but she didn’t say anything about that either. Just shrugged. She could believe what she wanted, and it wouldn’t change what Stephanie thought. And, she thought that she’d grown miles and miles from the little bat she was when she first arrived.
The bat threw Selina a pointed look over her shoulder, and quirked a blonde eyebrow. “Because there’s ever a time where we aren’t having them?” It was true, especially of this Gotham where there was hardly a time they could all work cohesively, even in crises. Sure, they united, but in a messy sort of way that left them worse for wear after the fact. They didn’t even really come together in the wake of Damian’s death. The birds were all lost and scattered, and Stephanie was so tired of trying to cobble together a family. To fit in with people that didn’t really want her in the first place. “I don’t know why I’m trying to force it anymore. It barely worked back in my Gotham. My Bat didn’t even like me most of the time. I don’t know why it’d be different here.” She shrugged again, but frowned, worrying on her bottom lip. They all knew the baby bird was a little lost beyond this door, and after a long moment, she sighed.
“He’d been like that for a while, and we should have seen it coming,” she admitted, guilt bleeding over in her words. The old guilt that brought nightmares that twisted her up and woke she and Eddie up in the middle of the night. “He wouldn’t have gotten killed by Firefly if he wasn’t so distracted. I should have done something. I should have tried harder.” But, he was gone already, and nothing was going to bring him back. Not a Lazarus Pit, not some voodoo, not some fucked up new version that didn’t know them. “It wasn’t your fault. He wasn’t angry at you. I think he was angry at everyone and everything.”
Selina chuckled. Maybe all Gothamites were the type. As for the kitty cat's curves and purr, well, they hadn't done her much good in recent years, had they? Part of her was jealous of what the little blonde bat had, but she knew that wasn't for her. That happy ending, it wasn't for everyone, and no one knew that better than her. And the little blonde bat huffed, and Selina chuckled again. "I'm only poking," she finally admitted. And who was she to talk about change? No one, really, and if the little blonde bat was happy. Well, wasn't that all that mattered? "You look happy, kitten, and that's a challenge in Gotham." In any Gotham. "Hold onto it." There, that was her advice, and maybe it was sappy and romantic, but having a bomb in her head made her a little maudlin.
The question about whether there was ever a time without Batfamily problems made Selina shrug. "I think you had your moments back home. At least, it looked like that from the outside." But then maybe the glass distorted it; glass tended to do that. "This Bat is different," Selina added without hesitation, and she believed it in that moment. This version of the man in the cowl was caring, understanding, and he would never do some of the things her Bat had done. She couldn't imagine a world in which he turned a tiny bat away, among other things. But the family, the family was a problem and she couldn't pretend they weren't. But she didn't have an answer, and hadn't she meddled enough in that with Damian? "I don't talk to anyone in the nest anymore, kitten, not with any regularity." It wasn't helpful, and it wasn't a solution, but she didn't have one. She was feeling fatalistic these days, and it was more than the baby bird's death that brought that around.
But it was easy for Selina to shake her head when Stephanie's words of self-blame began tumbling from her lips, and she moved to crouch beside the little bat. "No, kitten. There was nothing you could do. Damian was unhappy for years. He aged up too much, too quick. That wasn't your fault, and you spent more time with him than anyone. You can't blame yourself. You did what you could, and maybe this was what he wanted." And she didn't blame him. As scared as she was of death, it sounded like a release most days. This Gotham was a lonely place, and she hated it as much as she loved it. She understood. She reached out, and she rubbed a gloved hand over the little bat's shoulder. It was a kind gesture, and she usually kept those to herself. But one little thing couldn't hurt, could it?
Stephanie rubbed her eye tiredly in a show of hand of how exhausted she really was by all of the things going on at once. Mourning Damian, the family falling apart, the Watchtower looming over their heads, Lex’s power growing, the government breathing down their necks. All the little satellites of problems circling around them all, and maybe the blonde bat was cracking under the pressure just a little. Maybe she was a little tense. “Sorry,” she mumbled, and then listened intently to Selina’s words because when did the kitty cat dole out advice about forevers? The cat earned a soft look from the blonde bat, something a little sad and a lot of knowing. “I’m trying my best,” Steph assured Selina with the ghost of a smile. Because if Stephanie Brown was selfish about one thing in this entire world, it was Edward Nashton, and she would rip apart the universe for him and their shared happiness if she had to.
“He is a lot different,” Stephanie said of the Bat here. This Bat was too understanding for the boys, she knew that, and he wasn’t the lieutenant that any of the other birds were looking for. But, Stephanie never wanted that from him. She wanted someone to believe in her; she wanted a father-figure. “That’s part of the problem.” And maybe if they all had their bat, the harsher one that didn’t trust anyone with a damn thing, Damian might be happier. The other birds might function better. Selina would be able to see where she fit in the world. She mused on that for a second, before shaking her head. “Yeah, we had our moments, but there’s so much going on here.” A shrug, and then she looked up into Selina’s mossy green eyes. “You’ve always got ins in the nest, Selina. Don’t forget that.” And wasn’t that a little hypocritical, but it was true. The birds and bats might deny it, but they would always open their windows for a kitty to slink in at night.
She bit away a heaved sigh when the other woman placed her hand on her shoulder, and some of the tension melted away. Stephanie’s mourning was always a little strange in that it went through waves. She could go days without the guilt or the nightmares, but then there they came crawling back into her peripherals. The relentless gnawing blame that she was so very good at. She didn’t give Selina the pleasure of agreeing with her; the kitty could ask Eddie how good Stephanie was at guilt and blame. She did offer her a slight smile before rubbing her hand over her face. “Anyway, so. I didn’t bring you here just mope around with a State of the Batfam.” Fishing into the utility belt, she pulled out the little box and held it out in her palm for Selina. “Damian’s Robin suit. Well, one of them. Well, the ashes of one of them. He had a lot around here apparently. I thought--well, his service wasn’t really Damian. He loved this city. I thought maybe he’d want a piece of him with it?” And suddenly her idea seemed really lame, didn’t it? She rubbed gloved fingers over her kevlared neck bashfully but still held the box out.
Selina waved off Stephanie's apology with graceful fingers, the move a universal don't. There was no need to apologize. After all, she'd intended to scratch. But the kitty cat's smile was genuine when Stephanie said she was trying her best. Oh, sometimes the kitty cat ended up on this side or that side of the little love triangle that almost existed with Stephanie, Death and Eddie, but she never doubted how things would turn out there. Eddie thought the sun rose every morning with the little blonde bat, and Selina could appreciate a hero that could love a rogue. Her problems with Edward had everything to do with abandonment, and nothing to do with the little girl on the roof with her. So, her smile was genuine, and the words that followed were too. "You're doing just fine, kitten." No hidden meaning behind that purr.
Bruce, Bruce was a harder topic. Stephanie and Eddie were a given. Like Blondie and the antihero in the desert, Selina expected them to come out on top every single time, and she wondered if they'd realized they were unsinkable. But Bruce was a different story, especially this Bruce. "I know," she said when Stephanie said the obvious, that Bruce being different was part of the problem. She'd had countless conversations with Dickie on the subject. "It makes it hard for everyone to find their place," she finally added, straying close to Stephanie's own thoughts. "But I think he's found his with the League. Now, I guess the question that remains is what do the rest of you do?" And she suspected Stephanie would find a place in that League, since Eddie was involved with them. But the others? She had no idea. And even she could admit that Damian's absence affected that greatly. After all, no one wanted them all together as much as the baby bird had.
Selina quirked an inky brow when Stephanie said she hadn't brought her here to mope about the Batfamily. Oh, she'd known that too, but she wasn't expecting the little blonde bat to come out and say it. But maybe that was her projecting. She hated caring, mourning, weakness, and she buried it as deeply beneath her fur as she could. These days, there was a lot buried away. And, not for the first time, she longed for the old days where chasing thrills had been such a huge part of her life. But she didn't say anything, of course, she just watched as the little blonde bat held that little box out to her. She took it, and maybe there was a little tremble to her fingers as she transferred the box into her own palm. She didn't open it, but she looked down at it as Stephanie continued to talk, and maybe her mossy eyes were a touch damp when she looked back up. But that neck-rub over kevlar made the kitty cat smile a little. "So, we're scattering these?" she asked, looking over at the city below. It was a good idea, and there was approval in her smile.
The tenderness from the kitty might be a rarity in this Gotham, but it reminded Stephanie of a time when a Cat had soft fur and an affection for bats and birds, when she wore eggplant purple and ran around reckless. When she loved a bird and started wars in Gotham. That Cat who comforted Stephanie as Gotham burned to the ground even if it was the little girl’s own fault. Steph knew it existed underneath all the claws and hate of everything and everyone. And even if Selina couldn’t admit that to herself, the younger woman knew that it was just buried very, very deeply below. She didn’t think about the bitterness that her happiness might cause someone else in that moment. She was too single-minded when it came to she and Eddie unless it confronted her head-on. So, she was just grateful, and it showed in the appreciative smile the girl flashed the other woman.
And didn’t Stephanie know so well about finding a place? All the bats and birds did, but Stephanie was pretty much an expert at wiggling herself into shapes predetermined. Maybe she should teach the rest of them a class on it. “Hopefully...hopefully if losing Damian does one thing, it puts stuff into perspective for all of us,” Steph mused. It was a far stretch to think, honestly, but the blonde bat always had that pesky hope bubbling in the back of her brain. Even when her family was falling apart as usual. “We’ll figure it out. We’re always really good at adapting. At least, we were back then.” She shrugged, as if to rid themselves of that conversation. Like she said, she didn’t invite Selina there to bitch about the state of the family. That wouldn’t be fair to either of them, or for what they were going to do.
The blonde bat pursed her lips when she saw the hint of glassiness in green eyes, blues reflecting it readily and too easily for Stephanie to hide. She nodded, smiling a little too. “I thought he might like it.” Using her hands, she pulled herself back into a crouch and then stood on the ledge in a surprisingly graceful move for someone known for her clumsiness. “I know you both never liked to admit your sentimentality. But I’m sentimental, and I think this is something he’d really like, too. And I wanted to share it with you.” Fingers hooking into her cowl, she slipped it off her head to hang back, feeling that Stephanie should be scattering some of the remains of Damian’s suit, and not Batgirl. She looked down at the Cat expectantly, with a reassuring smile and blue eyes still glassy with mourning and gratitude for Selina being there.
Oh, Selina knew exactly what was buried beneath the slinky black, beneath the fur and the bad attitude and the love of thrills. She'd spent a lifetime acquiring that chip on her shoulder, and her walls had been carefully erected and lovingly cultivated. Her Gotham had made her hard, and this Gotham had began to thaw her. As a kitten in this place, she'd actually started to believe she belonged somewhere. That she belonged in a nest with little bats and little birds. Home, the kitty cat had thought. And then it had all disappeared, and she was scared to trust any of it again. Oh, she wouldn't admit that aloud, but she knew. She knew precisely what she hid from the world.
The kitty cat didn't have any faith in Damian's death as a catalyst. Maybe it should have been. In her world, it had been. It had taken some time, but it had resulted in a much, much stronger family of bats and birds. But this place was different, and maybe her vantage point gave her a better view of the situation. From where the kitty cat was perched, things were worse. The Bat was spending his time with the League, and the little bats and birds were floundering without their leader. Perspective and adapting, those things sounded good coming from the blonde bat's mouth, but Selina didn't have much faith. Hope, maybe, but not faith.
But then Stephanie's blue eyes were starting to water, and Selina was having trouble seeing past the dampness in her own eyes. She stood beside the girl in purple, and she watched as the cowl was slipped back. She smiled when Stephanie said (very rightly) that sentimentality wasn't something that Damian wouldn't have ever admitted to and, yes, the same went for the kitty cat. But she was there all the same, holding a little box with ashes of a suit, tears marring her cheeks. It didn't get much more sentimental than that.
Selina opened the box, using one hand to keep the wind from whisking the ashes away, and she held it out to Stephanie. "Bats first."
Stephanie didn’t want to focus on the other problems weighing Gotham down that night in this moment. Oh, later, she would probably punch a thug in the side too hard, or go to the training center to let off a little steam, or cling to Eddie a little to hard when she climbed into bed. The pain lingered on, even if she didn’t admit it and especially if she didn’t face it. And, the pain of losing Damian and the family would always be a constant one. Hadn’t the latter been since before she had even got here? And, Stephanie knew a lot of loss. She did fear that all that pain would never go away, but she was resilient to a fault. The pain might linger, but she would use it to her advantage.
She offered Selina a lingering, sideway glance with a wry smile. “If you insist,” she teased, trying to push past the tears welling up in her eyes and closing her throat. Slowly, she took a pinch of it in between fingers and held her hand out ceremoniously. She capitulated on saying a few, sweet words, but she thought that would discount the moment. Gotham wasn’t shmaltz. Gotham was grit and loss and exhaustion with snippets of softness like a bat and cat standing on a rooftop to remember a dead baby bird. So, she just closed her eyes briefly and actually prayed that Damian had found closure in whatever he found after this life. Stephanie wasn’t a godfearing woman, and she didn’t indulge in all of Eddie’s predilections for religious ceremony, but she believed in something. In spite of Muerte’s existence, she believed in more than just some woman in black taking people. She had to believe that Damian could be happy in another place.
Blue eyes blinked open and looked at Selina, and when the kitty had her own bit of ashes, Steph asked, “Together, on the count of three?”
Selina did insist, though she didn't say as much. And she didn't know what her faith was either, though she'd had plenty of time to consider it. She didn't do church, and she didn't do rituals. She didn't think Death was death. She hoped that Damian had gone home, back to his version of Gotham, where he was just a boy, and where his relationship with his father was all the things he'd lamented it not being here. That's what she hoped. Not an afterlife, but a life, and one the baby bird could actually want to live. It was enough, she thought.
The ashes slid between Selina's fingers, and she cupped them in her palm. And then she nodded her silent agreement. And it was hard, standing there and mourning a boy who had come to hate her, even though she'd never learned to hate him. But Gotham was all about hard things, wasn't it? She mouthed the numbers - one, two, three - and then she let the ashes fly.