(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

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[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.

He left his bike standing by the sidewalk and stood for a moment, looking up at the building that loomed over him.

"Mr. Logan?"

He glanced around to see a man dressed in a smart red jacket approaching him from the doors. Behind him stood another man who was resting his hand on the butt of a service pistol and looking at Logan like he was measuring him for a body bag. Logan raised his eyebrows at the welcoming party, more amused than anything.

"Ms. Kuttler told us to expect you, Mr. Logan."

Logan eyed the guy with the gun. "She did, huh?"

"Indeed. This way, sir."

Logan followed the man inside. The security guard hung back to let him go in ahead. Logan resisted the urge to pop a claw and see how high the guy jumped.

"Ms. Kuttler is in apartment 143, on the twelfth floor," the man in the red jacket told him as they reached the reception. "Would you like me to call ahead and tell her you're coming?"

Logan glanced over at the security guard. "Don't worry, bub, she knows."

"Very good, sir."

Logan felt their eyes on his back all the way to the elevator. As he stepped in and thumbed the button for the twelfth floor, he wondered what Selina had told them about him.

Apartment 143 was only a little way down the expensively funished hall. Logan grinned a little to himself as he eyed his surroundings. No denying the kitten had taste. He knocked once on the door, listening to the small movements from within as Selina came to answer it. He noted the slight hitch in her footsteps as they approached, like she was trying not to put her weight down too hard. Like she was hurt.

There was the click of a lock sliding back and the door swung open. Logan stood for a moment in its wake, silent, his gaze tracing the bruises on Selina's face, his fists clenched at his sides.

"Hope they got as good as they gave, darlin'," he said, finally, his voice low and soft.

[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.

If she were anyone else, she might have thought she owed Logan something after he'd told her about a few of the ghosts that haunted him But Selina had never been one to play fair, and it had been so long since she'd been with someone who hadn't seen all the times she'd fucked things up. Of course, the clown had ruined all that.

"It's true," she told him as she poured the tea. She wondered just how much context she should give the Joker's little story. What details to share, to leave out. Why it was that lunatic knew so much more about her than the man currently sharing her bed. She leaned back, legs tucked up underneath her, cup uncomfortably hot against her fingers.

"It started with a crime boss. Black Mask," Selina finally began, mouth twisting into a snarl at the name. "Smaller scale than the Joker, but almost as sick in his own way. I stole from him, he made it personal. Found out who I was, hurt the people close to me. Tortured them." Her voice remained steady, her eyes hard and too-bright. Torture was too small a word for what he'd done. "Had to kill him to stop him. Twice. I made sure the second time took."

Selina paused to sip her tea, not even tasting it. Logan remained silent, so she pressed on. Easier to rip the bandage off quickly, even if the scars weren't nearly as raw as they'd once been.

"One of my friends who'd been... hurt, his son wanted in on taking down the rest of Black Mask's empire. Ex-cop, Sam. We worked well together. And one night, things just clicked into place." One fingertip absently traced the raised pattern that circled her tea cup. "He was dead a week later. All because of me and the mess I'd made." Like far too many over the years. "Not even half an hour after I'd found out I was pregnant."

She let the silence rest for a few moments, until it became too heavy. "I tried. New identity, new life. But I guess I've always been a little too good at pissing people off. The kind of people who have no problem killing a baby in front of her mother. Who enjoy it. They kept coming for her, each worse than the last. I just..." She trailed off. Certain words she just couldn't say.

"He helped me. Batman." Selina drained her cup of tea, regretting it wasn't something stronger. "We killed off the alter ego, found a new home for Helena. Somewhere no one will ever be able to find her. Not even me." The last words were cool and careless, as if it didn't matter anymore. She'd made her choice, hadn't she?

"That's how the monsters in my world work. It's not always about making you bleed. Sometimes they just burn down everything worthwhile in your life." She met Logan's eyes and her gaze was pure granite. "And the Joker's the worst of them."

The silence was longer this time. In a way, this was the hardest thing to admit. "I could probably use some help dealing with him."

[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, disturbing the shadows that had gathered in the crevices of his face. His voice when he responded was soft and earthy as cigar smoke.

"You don't need to ask, sweetheart."

[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.