(Untitled)

[meowminx]

WHO: Logan (heavymetalclaws) & Selina (catmasked)
WHERE: Selina's posh new apartment
WHEN: Jan 17th, evening
SUMMARY: Selina talking about her fucked-up life.
FORMAT: ParaNovel

Comments

[heavymetalclaws]

Logan had known about the new place for a couple of days. It hadn't been hard to track her down: a few bills in the right hands, and where that didn't work a flash of his claws and an inquiry about how much the person wanted to see their guts steamin' on the concrete in front of them did just as well

[meowminx]

"Oh, they got better," Selina replied with a slight ghost of a smile. It vanished quickly. The fight had been little more than a pointless brawl, not really worth the damage on either side.

She made her way carefully back to the living room. The apartment was one of those pre-furnished interior decorator deals: ultramodern and a touch impersonal. Selina had already hung the photos Peter gave her for Christmas to help with the latter.

Instead of the usual booze, Selina had made tea. Something of a sentimental choice--it was one of the first things her Sensei had taught her how to do. Still, she hadn't had a drink since the real trouble had come to town, and this wasn't exactly the best time to start.

"Hope this is okay," she told Logan as she settled on the low couch. Though she didn't say anything else, her eyes were easy enough to read. If he asked, she'd answer.

[heavymetalclaws]

Logan followed her through to the living room, instinctively taking note of her movements, how she walked, how she held herself. The pain that threaded through her scent like a cold steel wire was faint; manageable. The bruises on her face and hands were days old. Nothing serious. She'd taken care of it.

Didn't make him any less angry, though. Any less willing to go out and find the guys who'd caused her pain, teach them a thing or two with his claws. It was just how he worked. Throwing himself into other people's fights because he knew he could survive them.

He shrugged off his jacket and draped it over the back of the chair opposite the couch. The smell of the tea was familiar. Comforting. It made him think of blossoms and sweet white wood, and a grave in the snow.

"Fine with me," he growled, lowering himself into the chair. He leant forward, his hands loosely clasped between his knees. For a moment he simply looked at her, weighing the words he wanted to say in his mind.

"Is it true? What that clown said about you?"

[meowminx]

And there was the question Selina had been waiting for. Part of her was surprised just how few had asked. But she knew he would

[heavymetalclaws]

Logan sat, shoulders rounded, still as a block of unworked stone, and watched as Selina reached back into the shadows of her past and brought the ghosts that sharpened the edges of her words kicking and struggling into the open. He watched as her expression darkened, became hard. He recognised it: had seen it a hundred times in the mirror, reflected in the faces of his family.

The Lord giveth and He taketh away. That was Kurt's line, or maybe the Professor's. But what had He given them, His children with flames at the tips of their fingers and that cold look in their eyes, like they knew too well what sounds a man made when he died? What had He given them, in exchange for the burden they bore?

Logan sat, the scent of tea winding through his senses, half a hundred hands pressing their weight against his back, his heart. Mariko. Silver Fox. James and Heather. Jeannie.

Helena.

What had He given?

Not enough.The silence sat between them, heavy with things unspoken. Selina's final comment made Logan lift his head a little,

[meowminx]

Inhale, exhale, and then she nodded. Logan couldn't have known what it would have cost her to ask for help in that moment, with bits of memories still clawing away at her insides. Broken mumbles and recorded screams and the quiet finality of a door clicking shut. The details that cut the deepest could never be put into words.

But seeing the set of his face, hearing the quiet weight of his words, Selina thought that maybe he really did know.

Another breath in and out and she shoved the echoes away, something to deal with another time. She knew there never would be enough time.

"Then I won't," she told him, voice anything but soft. "But I don't want anything more than backup. It's not your fight."

[heavymetalclaws]

Logan held her gaze for a long moment, then nodded gently.

"Didn't think any different," he replied. He reached out to touch the cup resting on the table in front of him, letting the heat of the china soak into his fingertips. Lifted his heavy gaze back to Selina.

"Everyone's got things in their past they regret," he continued. "Things they wish were different. It don't make you any less, what you did. You had to make a hard choice. You did what was best for Helena. Sometimes doin' the right thing means doin' what hurts you most."

[meowminx]

Her mouth settled in a thin line. She wanted to tell him that she hadn't made the hard choice, that that would have been the one that meant a new identity, a new life far from Gotham. Bruce had seen it before she had, damn him. Giving up a daughter had been the easy route compared to giving up... herself, in a way. Catwoman and all that came with it. The life she'd carved out of nothing.

A murmured "Thanks, Logan" was all she could manage as she set her empty cup down.