730 days~ Batcat

Curls

Selina pov

I awoke with a pounding headache, and I scrunched my eyes shut as it throbbed in my temples. What the hell? And then the memories flooded back. Barbara, Bruce, the warehouse, the fight. We were greatly out numbered but we had put up a good fight, somehow working as a team. But it didn't last long. Our attackers soon grew frustrated and opted for brutality. The last thing I remember was being flung into a concrete support beam then smashed on the head with something- hard.

With those recollections fuelling me, I forced open my eyes to take in the scene. I was strapped with my arms behind me to a chair in the centre of the room in a similar fashion to how Barbara had been. A few meters in front of me, I found my weapons in a pile: whips knives, all of them. My gaze then drifted to the ground beneath me. To my horror, I was stained a sickening crimson colour. My eyes widened and I fidgeted as I checked myself over for injures. Apart from a couple cuts and bruises, I was surprised to find myself pretty clean. I blew out a huff of relief before realising something. If the blood didn't belong to me.... Bruce!

That was when I became aware of a presence behind me, also strapped to a chair just like I was.

"Bruce." I said, trying to turn to get a glimpse of him. I couldn't see the state he was in, but judging by his raspy breathing, the blood-coated floor and his lack of consciousness, it was not great.

"Bruce!" I yelled, a little more urgently.

I was shaking my chair now, frantically, trying to escape my bindings.

"BRUCE!" I yelled again, desperately.

Nothing.

And with that I stopped struggling all together. I had to think logically. It was clearly up to me to get us out of this mess. Guess I was going to have to do the heavy lifting.

I sat for a moment, debating my course of action. Barbara had removed my clawed cloves so I couldn't use them to cut the rope. However, she had neglected to thoroughly check me, so the tiny blade was still clipped securely into my curls. Annoyingly though, I had on a heavy hood so it wasn't exactly easy to reach.

I flung my head back, trying to shake the damn thing off, but it clung in place. Damn my flawless design. For attempt number two, I scooted down the chair slightly, allowing the hood to snag on it as I awkwardly leant my head back. It worked, and the weighted fabric slipped off of my head. Time for another awkward positioning. I scooted down the chair a little more, allowing the blade to catch on the back of it, and when I jolted forward, it was ripped from my hair and fell to the floor. I had intended to catch it, but clearly that wasn't an option now.

Irritated, I sat back up properly, and began to frantically wobble the chair side to side. Eventually, gravity took over and I toppled to the right, falling hard on my shoulder with a grunt. Conveniently, my hands had fallen not far from the blade, so I was able to shimmy across the floor a little and grab it. I tried to ignore the red liquid beneath me during this stage, but it was difficult when I was lying in it.

Once I had grabbed the blade, I angled it carefully and began to slice the think rope. It took a few minutes considering how small he knife was, but keeping it extremely sharp had paid off. When I tore through the last section of rope, I made quick work of the bindings around my ankles. I hopped up, re-securing the blade to my hair and rolling out my injured shoulder.

I paused before turning to Bruce. Did I really want to see what was behind me? I guessed I had to.

I swallowed hard and turned slowly, to find Bruce limp and tied to a chair facing away from me. Without further delay, I rushed in front of him to access the damage... It wasn't good.

The armour on this chest had been thoroughly battered, and I pictured broken ribs amongst the collection of bruises that such a beating would leave. His face had been mostly protected by the mask, but his lips were puffy and bleeding, and his eyes were already beginning to form sickening bruises.

His left shoulder had been torn into and had a large gash across it, as did his right calf and thigh. But worst of all, was the blade wedged in his right shoulder. I recognised it immediately. It was the same knife I had slammed into his coffee table several nights ago. How the hell had it ended up here?

Either way, I didn't matter. To put it bluntly: he was a mess.

Without really thinking about it, I raised my hand and traced it gently across his check bone and to my surprise and relief, the action seemed to make him stir a little and he leant into my hand, before partially opening a puffy eye.

Bruce pov

I knew I was a mess. I could feel it. Pain thundered through my body and all my limbs felt like they were on fire. But in that moment, I didn't care.

My vision was weak and barely feasible, but I would recognise that blob anywhere. That blurry, unidentifiable blob of colour harboured something so distinct, I didn't need full sight to identify it.

"Selina..." I whispered to the figure with a full head of red curls sprouting in each and every direction. I couldn't see her face, but I just knew it was her, it had to be.

The figure muttered something before vanishing from my view, that turned back to black.

Selina pov

Crap! He had seen me. Oh no no no no no.

But he was so dazed and disorientated, perhaps he didn't see me properly. I would have to put it down to his imagination.

I ran over to my belongings, and re equipped myself fully, being sure to replace the heavy hood this time. I raced back to Bruce, who was now back in his unconscious state. Brilliant. His weapons had been thrown in a pile nearby similar to mine, so I dashed over to them before rooting through the find the car keys. Without hesitation, I pressed the little homing beacon button on them, and watched as the Batmobile crashed through the thin metal sheet doors. It sped forward and came to a stop beside me, and I quickly gathered up Bruce's weapons and chucked them into the already open door. I then hurried over to Bruce, slicing through his restraints with my claws. Now was the hard part. I grabbed him under the arms and heaved him from his chair, before somewhat carrying him over to the car, his feet dragging along the floor behind him.My shoulder burned in protest the entire time, but I blocked out the pain and focused on the task at hand.

The sun was beginning to emerge over the horizon as I drove the Batmobile through to the cave beneath Wayne Manor. I jumped out immediately, before rushing over to Bruce's passenger side and yanking him out of his seat. I wasn't sure whether it would be wise for me to call Alfred. Perhaps he didn't know of Bruce's identity. But his breathing had become even more laboured and wheezy now, so I wasted no more time. I dragged him out of the cave and placed him into one of the study sofas.

I hurried over to the desk and grabbed and pen and paper, scribbling a note before tucking it into a book that was lay in the centre of the desk. I made sure to place it on the same page as the book mark, before scrambling over to the window and opening it.

I turned to the room one final time, taking in the image of Bruce lying battered on the sofa I had found him on when I had visited all those nights ago.

"Alfred!" I yelled, before ducking out of the window and out of sight.

Before I left, I made sure to remain long enough to hear Alfred shuffle into the room and cry out for 'Master Bruce' to 'wake the hell up.'

He would be taken care of. He would be just fine.

Bruce pov

The next time I had awoken, I was lying in my bed coated in bandages and stitches and stinking of antiseptic. Alfred had, as usual, done a great job of patching me up. He had insisted I was to bed bound for a few days and had brought me an assortment of books to occupy myself with.

I had choked a laugh at the note left in my current read: Im looking forward to seeing my cat flap~ C

I lay in bed, juggling memories of my somewhat parter vigilante, as well as vivid images of a girl with a head full of curls.