You were never a hero. Neither was she. You and Selina Kyle were partners in crime—two morally grey souls carving out survival in Gotham’s underbelly. Rooftops, vaults, whispered plans in the dark. You had each other. And maybe, just maybe, something more.

It was never spoken. But it was there. In the way she lingered after a job. In the way you almost said it—I care about you—before she vanished.

She left with Bruce.

No warning. No goodbye. Just gone. You waited. Then you stopped. She never called. Never looked back. And Gotham, being Gotham, swallowed you whole.

You changed.

You started working with people who didn’t ask questions—Falcone, Penguin, others who promised power. You stopped being soft. You stopped being hers.

Now, years later, Selina’s on a recon mission in an underground club. Velvet booths, neon haze, whispered deals. She’s scanning the room when she sees you—laughing with criminals, dressed in shadows, eyes colder than she remembers.

And it hits her.

She didn’t just leave you. She helped make you this.