A Heart Of Kryptonite

Reflection

"Many, including Senator June Finch, have died."

Today, you didn't wake up by your alarm. Work had started hours ago but you didn't go in. How could Bruce expect you to go five minutes without your head floating towards her. The heaviness of grief was in your limbs as well as in the mind. Your head was propped up against a cold, hard wall. Opening your eyes you saw an alley. Dark, dingy and dripping with unseen dangers, derelict buildings formed the alleyway that didn't seem to have an end. Rats that never slept held claim to this place, it was their domain. It was the kind of alley you'd find in Gotham and Gotham only. Cold air was like threatening whispers, their words attacking your skin earning goosebumps. You only wore shorts and a tank top with no shoes. How on earth did you get here?

"You're a fool." You turned your head around to see someone in a trench coat. One leg was on the wall like how a teenager would pose to be cool. They reached into their pocket and pulled out a cigarette and a lighter. Lighting the cigarette, the fire illuminated their features. A smirk was plastered onto their face.

Your face.

You were the face in the trench coat.

"She warned you but no... we know better don't we? We just let her walk into her death while we snuck off with the pretty boy." You chuckled and a cloud of smoke left your mouth and nose.

"Am I dreaming?" You asked yourself.

"Obviously, asshole. Your subconscious at your service. The fucker who has to put up with all the bullshit choices you make when you're awake." She pointed at you with two fingers, the cigarette separating them, the butt was leaking pieces of glowing orange onto the floor. You covered your face with your hands as tears began to spill from your eyes. The subconscious scoffed before taking another long inhale of the cancer.

"I'm so sorry," you croaked.

"Oh whatever, sorry ain't fixing anything." Through blurred vision you watched your subconscious. "I want to show you something."

Bare footed, you followed your subconscious through the alley. Small pieces of rocks were stabbing into your feet but you didn't register the pain. You walked for what felt like an hour before you were in a scorching light.

In the centre of a white room with paintings on the walls, a few tables with sculptures on them, was a man in a white suit. You looked around for your subconscious self but she'd disappeared. The man turned around to reveal his face. Lex.

Mindlessly, you ran to hug him. He accepted your body with welcome arms. His hands ran from your sides to your back and he gave a little hum when you began to cry into his neck. Yep, definitely a dream. Would he be this loving and you so vulnerable in real life?

"I've missed you plum. What's up?"

"It's my... my... mum." If he heard your words, he would've had to have super hearing. 

Lex pulled away from your touch and put his hands in his pockets. He pulled out a pin, "for you," he smiled and put it in your hand.

Baffled, you just stared at him.

"Could you do me a favour? Just press your finger down at the prick of the pin." 

You obeyed. Why did you obey? It wasn't like you trusted him. Just completely blind in love. You pushed down onto the pin and grunted in discomfort. He chuckled and took your chin in his fingers. Leaning down and pressing his lips against yours. The kisses were hot and fiery, they distracted you from the blood now exiting your forefinger. As much as you enjoyed his taste - something was wrong. You were loosing yourself in his kiss; you screwed your eyes shut as if it was your last grip to sanity.

"Lex this pin hurts," you said in between kisses. Nothing. He didn't say a thing; instead he backed you up into a wall. His hands began to search your body.

He pulled away and whispered your name.

"(Y/N)."

As if your name was a switch, your muscles began to relax. You struggled to keep the fire in the kiss and inevitably you grew tired. More tired. And more tired. And more tired until eventually you fell out of his arms and to the floor in a deep sleep. The last noise you heard was the pin fall to the floor.

Fluttering your eyes open, you were back in the dingy ally. Subconscious (Y/N) was staring straight at you.  

"What did his kiss tell you about him?" She asked you. As if the question itself wasn't intrusive enough she moved closer to you.

Biting your lip in awe, you looked at her, "that he loves me."

"No!" She screamed and grabbed your wrist. She held your finger, which was dripping with blood, to your face, "did you not understand? You are hurting yourself just to win his affections. The kiss! The kiss! It lacked passion, it lacked love."

Snatching your wrist away, "You're wrong! He does love me!"

"You want to know about my man, right?" She spat whilst beginning to shove you, "He's a private guy, so he can't tell you much. He's got that pale skin and dark eyes that make me weak at the knees. He's a fair few inches taller than me, which I like. He's slim, not muscular, with an almost perfectly symmetrical face. Everyone loves him, they're drawn to him. I see it in the way they hang on his words and reciprocate his smile so quickly. They want to be close to him just like I do. If he wanted to he could have more friends than hours in the day, but for the most part he just wants to toy with my emotions. He could have had almost anyone, he could have had someone with a bigger bust, a smaller waist, blonde hair and more self-confidence. But he doesn't want anyone else. Apparently, you are enough. He's lying to you. To us."

Silence.

"Pathetic little girl. You should've never of worked for Wayne Industries - you were always out of your depth."

Your vision started to slowly be encased by a swelling darkness. It seemingly took away your air, you gasped and choked trying to grab onto your subconscious but even she was falling into the abyss of the darkness.

"Wait! Come back, I'm not finished!" You tried to utter out whilst choking.

"Please, learn something from this."

~~

Bolted upright, you were panting. Sweat rolling down your forehead. This, for sure, was reality.

You knew it was because the harsh silence was just another reminder to you that the death of your mother was on your hands. You couldn't look around because everything reminded you of her; you couldn't shut your eyes because all you saw was her. In defeat you tucked your legs close into your chest and nestled your head between the small gap in your knees.

"I'm sorry," you chanted, "I'm so sorry."