Chapter Text
- Selina’s POV.
March 19, 2016. 4:52 am.
I don't 'get sick.' I’m a healthy person. I climb skyscrapers for fun and dodge bullets for a living. But as I sat on the freezing tile of my bathroom floor, wiping my mouth with the back of a trembling hand, the reality of last month’s Valentine’s Day date with Bruce was starting to sink in.
Bruce and I made it official about seven months ago, and saying it had been an eventful stretch is the understatement of the century. Last Halloween, Scarecrow nearly took Gotham down. Then came the bombshell that Jason was alive, closely followed by the arrival of Damian. A nine-year-old biological son Bruce never knew existed because Talia had kept him a secret.
I knew that bothered him. It ate at him. Dick, Jason, Cass, Tim. His kids were all adopted. He never had them as babies. Even with Damian, the only biological one, he missed the beginning. I've caught him looking at Damian sometimes, mourning the years he lost. He’s never gotten to raise a child from day one.
And now, looking at the little plastic stick resting on my bathroom counter, it seemed he was finally going to get that chance.
Two pink lines…
"...Ah, shit." I muttered to the empty room. I let my head thump back against the wall, closing my eyes. I am panicking. I’ve never been a motherly person. When Bruce and I got together, I didn't have to deal with diapers or 3:00 am feedings. I just had to deal with Tim, which meant hacking attempts, brooding, and teenagers with enough trauma to fill the Batcave.
Damian is new, but as cute as he can be, he is a brat. Suddenly, a cold, wet nose nudged my knee. I opened my eyes to see Cola, one of my current strays, looking up at me with wide green eyes. He let out a raspy meow.
"I'm gonna be okay, Cola." I whispered, forcing a smile as I scratched behind his ears. "Looks like I'm learning the hard way."
I sat there for another ten minutes, the gears in my head spinning. I thought about my options. I could handle this quietly. Not tell Bruce... Get it taken care of...
No. That would be beyond messed up. Not after seeing the guilt that practically eats him alive over missing Damian's childhood. I couldn't make that choice for him, even if I had no idea how he'd react. I'm about to make his already complicated life so much harder.
But I had to tell him. As soon as possible. Finding my resolve, I pushed myself off the floor. I marched into the bedroom and grabbed my bike helmet, ready to ride straight to the Manor... Only to immediately throw it back down and sprint to the toilet to throw up once more. Yeah. As soon as possible.
—---------------
March 19, 2016. 8:10 am.
The cold morning air usually sharpened my senses, but today it just felt like an icy slap. Every time I hit a little bump, my stomach flipped in a way that had nothing to do with gravity.
Focus, Selina. I told myself, gripping the handles tighter. It’s just Bruce. He loves kids, you can tell him he’s going to be a father again. I thought to myself.
The massive gates of Wayne Manor loomed ahead. I didn’t bother with the intercom. I reached into my jacket and pulled out the heavy silver key Bruce had given me months ago. It was a "bypass" key. Today, it felt like a heavy weight in my palm.
I slotted it into the lock at the side of the stone pillar. With a soft, mechanical thrum, the gates began to swing inward. I’d used this key a dozen times for late-night visits or to escape the GCPD. He doesn’t know that part.
I rode up the long, winding driveway. My tires crunching on the gravel.
I looked at the manor, it is spring break, no school, so those kids were able to patrol late… Chances are they’re asleep. Bruce usually still woke up early, even if he was out late. That man did not need sleep…
I killed the engine, my hands shaking as I pulled off my helmet. I took a deep breath, trying to steady the nausea, and got my key to let myself into the main foyer. I hadn't taken three steps before the air shifted behind me. A cold piece of sharpened steel pressed against the side of my neck.
“State your purpose,” a high, arrogant voice demanded.
I didn't even flinch. I was too tired to flinch. “I need a word with your father, Damian.”
“Regarding what?” The blade didn't move an inch.
“Grown-up business, kid. Put the toy away.”
Damian narrowed his eyes, his face twisted in a scowl. “Your visitations are typically nocturnal, Kyle. Your presence at this hour is suspicious.”
“Damian Wayne!” Bruce’s voice boomed from the top of the grand staircase, echoing through the manor. Even the portraits seemed to rattle. Damian didn't even flinch. “Remove the sword from Selina. Now.” Bruce commanded, his voice dropping into that low, 'Batman' register that usually ended arguments instantly.
“Father, she is a thief.” Damian protested, though he lowered the blade. “She is likely here to scout the collection while the others sleep.”
Bruce descended the stairs, his eyes locked on mine. He looked tired. Dark circles under his eyes and his hair a mess, but his gaze was as sharp as ever. “Selina and I are dating, Damian. If she wanted to rob us, she wouldn’t have used the front door. Now, get upstairs. And I better never see you point a weapon at a member of this family again.”
Damian didn’t move. “What if it is for training purposes?” Damian questioned him.
Bruce took a deep breath. “Fine, only if it is for training purposes. Now get upstairs, I’m not repeating myself again.”
He gave me one last suspicious look before walking off. Just a reminder of the chaos Bruce is already dealing with… Something my announcement is about to make even worse.
Bruce reached the bottom of the stairs and stepped into my space, his hand hovering near my shoulder. He didn't touch me yet. He was reading me. I could see his eyes scanning my face, noting the paleness of my skin and the way I was favoring one side. “I’m sorry about him.” he said softly. “He spent last night reading old criminal files on the Batcomputer. He’s... protective.”
“It’s fine.” I shrugged, trying to keep my voice steady. “As long as he doesn’t actually take my head off.”
Bruce’s brow furrowed. He reached out, his thumb brushing my cheek. “Selina, you’re white as a sheet. And you’re trembling.” His eyes showed pure concern. “Are you hurt? Did something happen on the ride?”
“Maybe we should go to your office instead? We need to talk… I don’t want to risk one of the kids hearing.” I told him.
“Damian’s the only one awake, but I get it…” Bruce took my hand once more, leading me to his office.
—---------
March 19, 2016. 8:22.
Bruce led me to his office, quickly sitting down on the sofa with me. “What’s wrong, Selina?” He asked me. I took a deep breath, struggling to get the words out. “Selina? Talk to me.”
I couldn't say it. The words felt like they’d choke me. Instead, I reached into my jacket pocket, my fingers brushing the plastic edges of the test. I pulled it out and pressed it into his hand. Two pink lines.
Bruce looked down. The silence that followed was deafening. His grip on the plastic tightened slightly, his eyes widening. “...What?” he whispered, his voice cracking in a way I’d never heard before. “Selina... you’re pregnant?”
I started to tremble again. It felt ridiculous. I’ve faced down the Joker and survived falls from skyscrapers, yet a piece of plastic was making me fall apart.
But what I said before, about not knowing how to be a mother… I truly meant it. And am I really ready to settle down? I like my independence. Not saying Bruce is bossy, he isn’t with me… But I like living with my cats. Although I know if I moved in, he’d let me bring them all.
Hell, he would probably have a whole sanctuary built for them.
But am I ready for that kind of commitment? I love Bruce’s home, it’s just over crowded sometimes… And Damian isn’t my biggest fan right now, so I’d probably have to sleep with one eye open every night. Do parents have to live together? Mine never did.
“It’s going to be okay.” Bruce said, breaking the silence. He reached out, his hand cupping my face. “Don’t cry.”
I blinked, surprised. Was I crying? I reached up and felt the hot tracks on my cheeks. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get emotional... What the hell is wrong with me?”
“Pregnancy hormones?” Bruce suggested tentatively.
I narrowed my eyes at him, a flicker of my usual fire returning. “Careful, Wayne."
He actually let out a small, breathless laugh and pulled me against his chest, holding me like I was made of glass. “It’s okay to be scared. I’m scared, too.” he murmured into my hair.
I leaned into him, breathing in the scent of expensive cologne. “All I could think about on the ride over was Damian.” I admitted softly. “How much Talia hurt you by keeping him a secret. I couldn't do that to you. I wouldn't.” I pulled back just enough to look him in the eye, my voice turning fierce. “You aren't going to miss any moments with this one, Bruce. Not a single second. I promise.”