Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It took Selina a half hour to convince the kid to leave her closet. Now, they stand in her kitchen, staring at each other with mirrored crossed arms. 

“What’s your name?” She asks. 

“Why do you care?” He answers, mocking her voice. 

“Where are you from?” 

“What are those papers on your desk?” 

The questions make Selina stop leaning on the counter. She slips on an invisible mask and gives him an easy smile. “What papers?” 

“Don’t play dumb,” he says as he juts his lip out. The gesture makes Selina laugh and she slips her still uneaten bowl of soup into the old microwave. 

“Who’s the one playing dumb?” She says as she puts her tea kettle on the burner. 

The kid lets out an annoyed groan. “What’s your name?” He finally asks. 

She leans back against the counter as she waits for it to heat. “Selina. And yours?” 

The kid still doesn’t answer. Instead, the two just stare at each other, both too stubborn to be the first to talk. Eventually, the beeping microwave interrupts their unintentional contest. Selina gestures to the single stool underneath the back of her counter. “Sit,” she says. 

He narrows his eyes at her but still listens. Selina puts the bowl in front of him and plops a spoon down into it. The kid looks down at the contents and then back at her. “What is this?” 

“What does it look like? It’s chicken soup. Now eat.” 

He doesn’t need to be told twice. The kid attacks his food, clanking the metal spoon against the ceramic as he digs out all the noodles. Steam from the bowl rises and warms his cheeks, making him look less intense and more childlike. Suddenly, her knees grow weak at the sight. He’s a child, a baby , who eats as if it is the only thing that matters to him. 

She looks around her kitchen, hoping to produce more food. She wants him to eat until his stomach can’t fill anymore, and then some. After pulling open the drawer that sometimes houses snacks, she lets out a relieved sigh. Her emergency stash. Selina grabs two handfuls of individually wrapped chocolates and puts them next to the kid’s now empty bowl. The kid’s eyes widen at the candy. 

“Do you want anything else? I can make you an egg,” she offers lamely. 

He frowns and drops the spoon into the now-empty bowl. “Why are you helping me?”

Because I am you, she thinks to herself. But before she can answer, the tea kettle begins to whistle. Sellna curses the timing and grabs it off the stove, immediately pouring herself a mug full. Hopefully, it’ll curve the grumble in her stomach. She had to give away her dinner. 

“You a foster kid?” She asks as she raises the cup to her lips. The kid freezes, and Selina knows she’s correct. “I was too,” she says quickly, not wanting him to think she cares. “Did you run away?” 

The kid shrugs, his eyes now on his lap. She hates how glum he looks. Selina looks around her apartment, intent on giving him something that always makes her feel better. She finds the first cat she can, Meatloaf, and places him on the counter next to the kid. Meatloaf lets out a light meow. The kid peeks up at her cat and his lips finally pull into a smile. 

“That’s Meatloaf,” she tells him as she runs a hand down the orange cat’s spine. “He was a foster cat, too. Now he’s with me.” She shrugs, trying to make it seem normal. “Want to pet him?” 

The kid puts his hand forward, his eyes aglow with delight. Meatloaf meets his hand in the middle, already purring from the kid’s tough. Selina grins. Thank god for Meatloaf. “You have a lot of cats,” the kid says. 

“I know,” Selina says. 

He pets the cat and she sips her tea, both doing so in silence. 

“Why were you up so late?” The kid finally asks. 

“I just got off work.” Selina leans over the counter and towards him. “Notice how I’m being honest? You should try it too.” 

“Are you going to turn me in?” He asks, his voice practically breaking. 

“Of course not. You’re much nicer than Meatloaf was when I first got him.” She holds her hands near her face as if she were surrendering. “And since you tried to steal from me, that’s saying something.” 

The kid smiles again, this time because of her. Selina’s heart soars. “My name is Richard. But you can call me Dick.” 

Selina bursts out laughing. Snarky and funny? This kid was definitely in the Gotham foster system. She looks at him, hoping to see him laughing at the joke too, but instead, he just looks confused. Her face immediately straightens.

“Dick, huh?” She forces herself to say calmly. She wants to thrash his more-than-likely dead parent’s shoulders. Who names their kid Richard and then somehow makes it worse by nicknaming them Dick? It’s almost as if the kid is from the 1940s. 

His eye begins to squint and soon, he’s laughing too. Selina blinks in surprise at the sight of it. It’s adorable and sounds unlike any other she’s ever heard. His hair has begun to dry, and it stands up in two little sections on the top of his dark head, like little mouse ears. 

“You’re funny, Selina,” he says between giggles. “I’m sorry I tried to rob you.” 

Selina grabs his empty bowl and pushes his candies in front of him. He needs to eat more. She’ll get him to eat more. “You can take whatever you need. But only after you pass a test.” 

Dick’s smile falls and he raises an eyebrow. “What is this, school?” 

She nods. “I’ll give you all the jewelry you want, but you have to take them.” She points at the window. “I don’t know how you did what you did, but we’ll do it again. You’ll buzz my door, I’ll run downstairs, and you’ll have to somehow get into this apartment before I do so.” 

He gets up and starts for the door, without any sort of question. Selina steps in front of him with her stretched out. “Woah, not now. It’s like three in the morning and the rain has only gotten worse.” 

“You mean I can stay?” He asks quickly. Selina blinks at the question. Meatloaf follows them to the floor and rubs her head against the kid’s knee. 

“Of course you can stay,” she replies. The words came easier than she thought possible. Selina has to do something to snap her out of her own stupor. She raises a hand up and dramatically covers her nose. “But the stinky mouse needs a bath.” Her other hand points down the hall. “I’ll show you to your palace, monsieur.” 

Dick’s smile grows and he reaches down and picks up Meatloaf. With a fistful of chocolate in one hand and a very tolerant cat in the other, he follows her down the hall. “You can sleep in the room you thought you’d be smart enough to hide in. I’ll grab some stuff for that while you get ready for bed. But until then,” she parks him in front of her door. “Wait.” 

He rolls his eyes. “I already saw it all, Selina. Remember?” 

She gives him a crooked smile. Selina hopes to god he didn’t see all of it. For several reasons. “I’ll get you some new clothes tomorrow. For now, deal with my stuff, okay?” She says, purposefully ignoring his implication. 

“You don’t have to give me anything,” he says. 

“Shut up,” she responds. “From now on, since you broke into my home, you owe me. So you have to take everything I give you.” 

“That doesn’t seem fair,” Dick says. 

“Too bad.” She reaches into her drawer and grabs Dick something clean and warm to wear. Her downstairs neighbor has a kid that looks around his age. She’ll go borrow something from her first thing tomorrow “Here. Just until the morning,” she says as she trades him the clothes for Meatloaf. The cat jumps out of her arms, finally at her limit. 

“What’s happening in the morning?” He asks, almost fearful again. Selina doesn’t let the sadness on her face show. Is he scared of her? Or of having to leave? Both of the options hurt. 

“We’re going to get some breakfast. And then get you some new clothes. And then you’ll take your test,” she says as she leads him into the spare bathroom. There’s a bunch of old soaps and shampoos left over from her past…relationships? They’ll work for him temporarily too. “Anyway, you can do your thing in here.” 

“Selina,” Dick begins, his eyes trained on the floor. “What happens if I pass?” 

She gives his mouse-like hair a tousle. “Whatever you want to happen. Don’t worry. Just know that until tomorrow, you’re staying here. And after that, you’ll be able to come using a key instead of using the window.” 

The kid smiles. “Okay.” 

“I’ll be in the other room,” she says as she closes the door behind him. If she remembers anything about being on the streets, it’s that privacy matters. She wants him to have as much time as he needs. It’s early enough that he’ll have all the hot water he needs. 

In the meantime, Selina grabs all her extra blankets and brings them to the spare room. She lays them all out, trying her best to make something comfortable to sleep on. Guilt sinks into her stomach at her lack of a bed, an air mattress, anything. But after a deep breath and a self-reminder of her time without a home, she knows he won’t care. Tomorrow she’ll get him a temporary bed. And then after tomorrow? It’ll be up to him. 

She grabs the papers and plans on her desk and quickly brings them to her own room, throwing them down on the ground. One of them flutters theatrically to the very center and Selina frowns. It’s her notes on Falcone.

She snarls and falls to her knees, shoving the papers far underneath her bed and his name far away from her. She hates him. She hates his dirty gang and his awful gaze and just every single fucking thing about him. The piece of shit who abandoned her as a kid, not even glancing her way when they took her. He threw her to the wolves of Gotham, condemning her to the unsuccessful life she has now, all while sending his other children, his worthy children, to private school. Plus, he's a notorious criminal who profits off other people's misery. Selina thinks he's worse than scum. And someday, she'll make him pay.

Dick eventually finds Selina on the floor. She still sits on her legs, her eyes knitted in a mix of anger and grief. 

“Selina?” He asks quietly. She turns her head and sees the kid, his hair already fluffy from bathing. With her brown shirt on and rolled-up sweats, he looks even smaller than usual. He’s a little mouse in the way he sneaks around, but a little bird with the way he stands. His hands are at his sides, his back is straight, and his feet are almost meticulously placed. 

“Yeah?” She asks, her eyes hot from staring. 

“I know you plan to find Tony Zucco. And I want to help.” 

“What?” She croaks. “How do you know Tony Zucco?” 

“Because he owes me.” He shifts his stance but still remains way too elegant for a kid of his age. “So can I help?” 

Selina knows she can’t tell him no. If she does, he’ll steal her information and bolt the first second she looks away. But she can’t let him help either. He’s a baby who needs protection, not more violence. 

But Dick is a child of Gotham. Violence is one of the few things they can depend on. When Selina was seven, her mother died, taking all of the joy with her. By eight, she was fighting others for scraps. By nine, she was running from the people meant to defend her. 

Selina can tell by the darkness in his eyes that he is as she was. Angry at everyone and scared of nothing. The city already has shackled itself to his leg, and he drags its weight around in the way he looks and eats. She won’t let it continue to imprison him. 

“Yes. You can.” 

Dick lets out a sigh of relief and gives her a grateful smile. “Goodnight.” 

“Goodnight, little mouse,” she mutters.

He cracks Selina’s door as he leaves, and the gesture finally unlocks her joints. She crawls into bed and pulls the covers up to her chin. A child is in the other room. He should be thinking about racecars and space and coloring. But instead, he’s asking Selina to help him find a mob boss. Selina pulls her knees to her chest and closes her eyes, trying to not let all the possible reasons why haunt her thoughts. 

He’ll be better than me, she vows to herself. I’ll help him be better than me. When Selina finally drifts off, her sleep is filled with nightmares.