Work Text:
He's larger than life the first time. Larger and darker and everything and more that she'd always imagined him being.
So of course she makes a fool of herself; stupid corndog. She degrades herself, but she always does it with silly and nice and harmless words. If they aren't cruel terms, then it's not self-destructive, right?
Stupid corndog.
But he sees her for what she is - pathetic and insignificant and meaningless. That's what she said, isn't it? Meaningless. To herself, to her boss, to her peers, to her hero. And there's no hero when she falls forever into a great, black pit.
And there's no hero when her eyes open.
Meaningless. Pathetic. Weak.
She wants to tear that sad, little girl to shreds. She wants to claw and bite and destroy and ruin. Inside all her bones are splinters, all her insides are jumbled. In her head everything is off, just a little. Off.
Better. What doesn't kill you...but that's the funny part. It did kill her. So what kills you must make you strongest of all. She'd wager he hasn't died. No, not him; he's the great, big hero of Gotham - but she's just a nobody.
Was a nobody.
Now she's a force of nature gone wrong.
All those things she denied herself, she'll take. All those things kept from her, she'll steal. All those things she tried to make better, she'll ruin. All those hearts she couldn't win, she'll break. All the world is hers, because she's not going to let herself be afraid to take it. Not anymore.
He's average the second time. Average and normal and she laughs at herself for buying into the illusion.
When she sees him in the street with the Penguin, she wants to tear him apart; and she almost does. She's not afraid, and she's not a fool. She strikes any and every way, and she laughs when he exposes just how naive and weak he really is.
She sees him for what he really is - a man and nothing more. That's it. Gotham's great protector, and he's as simple-minded as the rest. She laughs at herself and how foolish she used to be. She laughs at how foolish he is.
Bastard sent her flying, though; falling.
How she hates the falling. Sometimes it still feels like she's falling even when she's standing still. If she closes her eyes, the ground caves underneath her feet and all there is is falling. When she passes out, certain that this time she'll wake up that meek, mousy girl again, she's falling.
Miss Kitty breathes against her skin, and she's on the ground - on her bed - and alive.
She ignores the spiraling sensation in her mind when she goes to work - just to see the look on Shreck's face, and she sees the look on Bruce Wayne's face, and she laughs inwardly while she spirals.
It's heady, intoxicating, seeing the effect she can have on men. Knowing what it's like to render them speechless instead of letting them shut her up, cut her down.
The satisfaction makes her forget that she feels broken and can't quite piece it all together just right on the inside. She stitches herself back together later, covering where her 'hero' cracked and burned her; she goes to Penguin with thoughts of alliance, thoughts of tearing down Batman because she can, because she needs Gotham to know that he's nothing but a man.
And men are pathetic and predictable and so, so imperfect.
But she was pathetic and predictable and imperfect - and they all keep making her feel that way, all of them, except Bruce, when he spots her on the street. Singles her out; like she means something.
It feels good. Feels electric and hot; what girl doesn't like being the center of the wealthiest man alive's attention? Not even Miss Kitty could deny how nice the attention is. No, Miss Kitty would seize the opportunity, and so Selina does too.
And it feels good. So fucking good - she's on top and he lets her, and she thinks maybe he's a man but he's not such a predictable one after all, maybe he's not so imperfect. But fuck, she is, and she can't let him see, can't risk everything no matter how good he tastes or smells or feels or how much she needs a good fuck.
Shit.
She forgot.
Selina took over, and Catwoman enjoyed the ride - but they've got work to do, she has work to do, when did she start thinking of them as separate?
And she hates Batman more tonight, and she wants Batman more tonight, and maybe she hates herself a little too - which self is that though? she's losing track and in her head it's falling, spiraling, losing control.
Most of all she hates birds. She should have clawed him open, tore him apart - all men are the same. They leave you falling, falling, falling. And all she can do when her eyes open is scream. She hasn't screamed since the first time she died, and it feels good to let it out while everything hurts and heals.
Not quite right though.
Each time she feels a little more off. A little more jumbled.
She'll kill them. She'll kill them all, every man who's tried to silence her or tame her or break her down. Shreck, Batman, Cobblepot.
Wayne? No. Wayne she likes.
She thinks.
No. She should add him to the list; save him for last. Have some fun and take him out before he can send her falling. Like all the others have.
But when she sees him she remembers him beneath her - and that he liked it - and she doesn't want to hurt him. Well, maybe a little. Nothing serious; just a bit of foreplay. She feels like the center of Bruce Wayne's world, and he's not even close to hers, but she likes him all the same. Likes the way he looks at her.
Like she means something.
It all comes crashing down, of course.
Stupid corndog.
Nothing is ever perfect; there's no such thing as fairy tales. She can't have her revenge and a happy ending, too. Her world is spiraling, all around her are masks, and she's so tired of the damn things. So tired of pretending - and she doesn't have the slightest clue when she's pretending and when she's not.
She doesn't have the slightest clue who she is anymore.
But she knows that Bruce Wayne is Batman, and all the hate and the lust and the sweet rush of warmth crashes over her; sends her falling.
Or maybe that's the explosion.
Fucking bird - trying to steal her vengeance away.
Bruce and Batman are forgotten just like that, because her revenge is slipping from her claws. She won't let it. She'll kill Shreck, and then she'll kill Penguin if Batman doesn't first - because she remembers, Batman's the hero, Penguin's the villain, of course! - and then she'll...Selina doesn't really know.
She just wants everything to stop spiraling; she just wants to stop falling and crash already.
And oh, it feels good getting Shreck in her clutches at last, it feels good hearing him bargain and beg, smelling the fear on him. It feels good - but here comes the damn hero.
Does he think being Bruce means she'll listen? Does he think he can stop her just because he's Batman?
Catwoman wants to laugh; more than that she wants to tear them both apart; taste their blood. She wants to rip Shreck apart, devour him. She wants to cut Batman open, worm her way in so he'll never be free of her.
They're all so much larger - just like silly Selina always thought. They are larger and darker, the three of them. Why can't he see that? Why can't he see how shattered she is? Coming apart at the seems right in front of him, but maybe he is too.
It's just harder to see with him; he's got more practice hiding it. She knows that now.
But when she closes her eyes, she's falling. It never stops. It has to stop.
It's Bruce's blood on her claws first. He'll just try to tame her, cage her after all.
Shreck fires, over and over, but bullets don't give her whiplash or break her bones. He kills her again, and again; of course. It's Shreck. It's always been Shreck; and herself. She thinks that it's poetic and fitting; to die with him. She's felt him in her skin since he shoved her out a window; she's going to cleanse herself now.
One last life; die again, and it's for good. How it should be. Free of Max Shreck and the stain he left on her.
It hurts like a bitch.
But it's worth it when she claws her way out of the zoo and passes out in the snow and there's no more falling.
Maybe one day she'll go to Bruce and be the center of his world again; maybe one day she'll be the center of Batman's, too. First she's gotta find out who she is; who they are. She'll come back though; she can feel it in the broken halves of her heart.
When she's no longer afraid of falling, she'll be back.