I do not own Gotham
The muddy clouds hung lazily above the melancholy city, casting phantom shadows onto the paved concrete streets, spitting droplets of rain at passers by. The minute capsules of water that were shot by the sky plummeted down onto the already sodden and grotesque streets, plastering the dull buildings in a casing of sombre jewels, each reflecting the haunting light of the ever present moon that danced in the sky.
In this city the rules were simple: kill or be killed. Cut and run. Never look back. For these uncharted streets that branched to every point on the compass like nerves were no place for those who didn't know how navigate them. Endless records of deaths and crimes littered the desks of every officer in the city, each leading to one dead end after the next, playing the civil servants like a cruel labyrinth.
But among the maze like buildings and cracks of this doomed city, there were those who knew how to survive. Those who were one in their own here. Those who could step back into the shadows and vanish into oblivion if they so wished. Those poor, damned souls who made a living off cruelty an invisibility.
Selina was one of those. She hadn't lived a long life, no, but she knew just how to dance with the devil. The learned many things from her numerous scuffles and jobs... and scars. And she had learned quickly. Scars were something to be proud of in Gotham; they showed that you were stronger then whatever tried to hurt you. But what was the point in bearing a scar if you learned nothing from it. And although Selina was mostly unmarked, she had craters in her sanity and consciousness. But these were something she bore proudly, for they had fed her enough knowledge to keep her alive. Selina was lucky, she was gifted with a natural survival instinct and flawless complexion, making her a threat to anyone who dared cross her. However in this city, she had quickly learned that looks did not win any battles. It was about the skills that you had, the cards that you were dealt, and how close you kept them to your chest. And she was smart that way. Her cards were so close to her that even she couldn't see them all. However, she had the wise trick that allowed her to play her opponent and rob them blind before they could even ask her name. And that's exactly how she played it: to her strengths. She kept everyone new at arms length and everyone old even further. She let nobody in; because if nobody knows your weaknesses then nobody can hurt you. Right?
They always told her that it only takes one day for somebody to loose their mind, no matter how tight their hold of it is. Gotham's merciless streets were renowned for harbouring one psycho after another. They poured from every crevice and overtook the city like rats, spreading pain and suffering like a disease. But Selina knew who to say away from, and who to make alliances with. Sure, she was a roughed up thief who made her bed in abandoned apartments and warehouses, but she was wild and good at her trade, so nobody every asked questions. She booked one job after another, stole, delivered, took the cash, then repeated this motto ritualistically. Nobody could fault her for being what she was: a survivor. Well, nobody but that suit wearing, limo owning, walking bank of a person named Bruce Wayne: Gotham's 'Golden boy'. She had laughed hysterically when she had seen that on the cover of the papers. Bruce was known as the perfect rich little socialite who had more money than sense, but Selina knew him for what her truly was. And she hated it. She hated how he got into her head, how he was able to grab her cards and study them without fault, and how he always weaselled his way back into her train of thought. God, she hated that boy. But no, she didn't. She liked him. Perhaps a little more than she should.
The thought of him and her together made her snort every time it crossed her mind. Imagine that! Street cat and billionaire! Ha! They would make the headlines. That's why she tried her hardest to stay out of his hair. She knew the image it would build if he was seen with her, so she tried to keep him further then the others, but he always ended up popping up back in her life one way or another.
It was an unusually dark day in Gotham, but little things like these never stopped Cat from keeping up with the world. She darted across rooftops, sprinting from wall to wall, leaping, pivoting then leaping again. She wasn't doing anything in particular, just breaking in her new suit. This one was a matt leather one piece with a zip that stopped in a flattering area of her chest and she accompanied it with tight leather boots. Her whip hung lazily at her side and her new knives where secured into a holder on her tailbone. She also carried a backup in her boot, just in case. Oh, and a concealed tiny blade the size of a key was clipped into the underneath back of her hair. She galloped across a small rooftop, before leaping to another then climbing between two walls to reach a perch that looked over the majority on the city. From here, she could even see Wayne Manor. She sat, relaxing, with one leg hanging against the nest and the other tucked next to her with her elbow on it. But it wasn't long before her sharp senses picked up a scuffle two streets over. Using her whip, the swung down from her seat using a pole as a hook for the whip. Landing silently, she sprinted across the roofs to see what was happening. When she arrived, yearning for a fight, she found two drunk men arguing over a wallet. She sighed, before jumping down onto the fire escape, and using her whip to grab the wallet for herself, leaving the two men dumbfounded.
"Thought you were above this petty crime now Cat." States a voice. She knew it anywhere. It was the vigilante of Gotham. Selina turned, peeping through her eye mask at the supposed hero, before rising and smirking it him, being sure not to let the thick leather hood fall. She had recently added detailing to the eye pieces in her mask and ears to the sides of it to give her a feline look, and her razor sharp nail attachments on her gloves earned her the stress name Catwoman though nobody knew how close to the real thing they were.
"Well, a girls gotta make a living." She purred, winking at him before tossing the wallet to him, although it was now empty. He caught it and tossed it aside on the roof. I'm not going to lie, it impressed her a bit.
"Theft is not a living." He said sternly, eyes burning into her.
"I never said it was an honest way to live." She smirked.
"You are a wanted criminal Catwoman. What makes you think I'm going to let you off with a warning?" He stated
"Curiosity." She replied, leaping up onto a air conditioner and perching on it like a cat.
He cocked, what she imagined to be, an eyebrow at her from under his mask.
"You're going to want to see what I do next." She explained. "Also, I know you don't want to end our little game, Batboy." She winked
"Game?"
"Cat and mouse."
"So I guess that makes me the cat?"
"Guess so." She grinned devilishly before leaping off the air conditioner and over Batman's head. She landed in a crouch and turned back to him, grinning. She turned, smirking, before setting off at a sprint across the rooftops. He set off in pursuit. Catwoman laughed gleefully at her successful attempt at taunting the Bat. He chased her over three rooftops before she turned and met his challenge head on. He hadn't expected her to stop, so when she produced her whip and caught him around the ankle he fell with a thud, much to her amusement. He quickly recovered and got into a fighting stance.
"Ready to give up yet little kitty cat?" She mocked him
"I should ask you the same thing."
"Why would I give up when I'm winning?" She teased.
"Winning? I'm pretty sure you're the one who's cornered."
"And I'm pretty sure you're the ones who's about to walk away." She stated.
"And why would u say that." He said, grinning slightly. Her feline wit was kinda getting to him. Focus.
"Because you see that right there? It's a bank." He stares at her, dumbfounded.
"And in the bank, there are two guys who owe me big time, and have done for too long. And you see, Batsy, they are trying to repay my favour with stolen cash. But in all honesty I'm kinda bored of them. So what's going to happen within the next minute is they are going to emerge with sacks full of money, and you are going to chase them, letting me go free."
"What makes you think I'm going to believe you." He questioned.
Right at that moment, the banks alarms sounded and she smiled at him.
"Why would you tell me this?" He uttered confused. "Surely you wouldn't miss a payout just to avoid a scrap?"
She shrugged her shoulders. "Curiosity."
"I think you're starting to enjoy this game." He smirked
"No doubt." She replied
"Or maybe you're a good guy now." He teased
"I wouldn't count on it. Now you better hurry before they get away."
"I'll be back."
"And I'll be gone."
Bruce pov.
2 Years. Two years of counting down every damn day. I marked another notch into the edge of the oak coffee table in my study with a small hunting knife. Selina had been gone for 2 years. It had been 730 days since she had been stuffed into an ambulance and shipped to safety. I thought that letting her go was the best thing I could have done for her, even though I had promised to stay with her. I even remember that day as the day they told me she would never walk again. The pain I felt, for her, was the worst I had in my life. It was my fault. Selina was a survivor, no doubt about it, but she relied on her agility, speed, cunning, freedom. My involvement with Jerome had stripped her off all that. I was so foolish to think I could protect the city and her. I was so foolish to think I could have both. When I let her go I thought that she would understand, hoped that by some miracle she would recover, and having Alfred there would be enough. But getting a call 283 days after she left informing me that she had vanished from the hospital and that Alfred knew nothing of where she was broke me. Somebody had taken her. She was paralysed from the waist down for Christ's sake, she couldn't have left herself. It must have been Jerome or some other sicko wanting to get at me. Ever since then, I had been hunting Jerome, hunting anyone with a vendetta against me, and hunting her, praying she was still alive.
Alfred had returned 404 days after they left Gotham, and had trained me harder than before. I was better, stronger, faster, more dangerous. 477 days after she left I put on the bat mask for the first time. 521 days after she left I had my run in with a woman dressed as a cat. 721 days after she left, I heard whispers on the new hit criminal of Gotham: Catwoman. 729 days after her departure I had another run in with the cat. 730 days after our farewell, she came knocking on my window.
Selina
It had been a long time since I had climbed the Wayne property walls and scaled the side of the building to the orphan boys study, and doing so brought back flashes of my previous self. The girl that came by here often, who stopped off to say hi or grab a snack. The girl who would risk it all for the boy who lived writhing these walls. That girl was gone, dead. And the boy was dead to her.
It had been a long road back. After I woke up and found out Bruce had abandoned me so carelessly like everyone else in my life, I broke down. I thought, so so stupidly, that somebody cared for me. And when he kissed me, I believed with all my heart that that was true. And when he promised he would stay, I felt so wanted. But when my eyes fluttered open and he was nowhere to be found, I lost myself. Now I was bed bound, with a broken back and a broken heart and a mind full of flashbacks and regret. I hated him. But... I didn't. I didn't know what I felt, but I knew that there was nothing I could do. I was tapped in care for the rest of my life. That was, until Hugo Strange came knocking with promises of a way out. And of course, I took him up on the offer. The next few months were the worst of my life. I had been abandoned, forced out of my home, had left Alfred, and was enduring never ending experiments without knowledge of the outcome.
But it was worth it. When Strange released me, I was someone new: Catwoman. I had a complete vision in the dark, accompanied with catlike irises and catlike vision clarity. I had the agility, speed, strength and stamina of a lab cat, which I now was. And to top it all off, I received a bad ass suit and persona. But it wasn't just my legs that I regained. It was myself. My mind, my body, me. All back in one piece. And I did it without the help of the bratty playboy Bruce Wayne. I didn't need him. And from then on, I didn't need anybody. I was free. I was a cat. I am a cat.
519 days after I left Gotham I came back; as Catwoman.
521 days after I left Gotham I faced the Bat.
729 days after I left Gotham I realised who the Bat was.
730 days after I left Gotham I faced the past, present... and the Bat.