"Is your hand fine?" Selina asked, stepping closer to grab my palm. Her eyes widened. "Shit… there's not even a mark," she whispered, almost to herself.
"Were you worried about me?" I asked with a small smile, my voice teasing.
"Who was worried for you?" she shot back, dropping my hand and stepping away. "It's just… the first time I've seen someone insane enough to stop a bullet with their hand." She looked away, refusing to meet my eyes.
I just smiled behind my scarf-mask and glanced back down at the Waynes. The reality of what I had just done hit me again—I have really stopped the Waynes from being murdered.
If this world hadn't been an AU before, it sure as hell was now.
If a single butterfly flapping its wings could change the course of history, then I had just stopped two butterflies from dying—and the ripples of that decision were something even my Kryptonian brain couldn't fathom.
Though honestly, my very existence here had probably already changed the course of this world beyond recognition. So why stop now? If anything, this just made me bolder about rewriting canon… whenever it was required.
Still… I couldn't help feeling a bit hollow. Batman had always been one of my favorite heroes, and now I had just erased him before he could even exist.
Did that make me his biggest fan—or his worst enemy?
Joker would probably have a good laugh about this one.
At least Bruce Wayne's future was bright. That had to count for something, even if the price was Batman himself.
"Did you know this would happen?" Selina asked suddenly, watching the Waynes hurriedly return to the theater—likely to call the police.
"Something like that…" I muttered, already having some plans on how to explain my future meta knowledge to other people.
"So what are you?" she pressed, leaning back against the ledge, her green eyes studying me with genuine curiosity. "Some kind of wannabe hero who sneaks around Gotham saving people at night?"
"We need to move," I said, cutting her off and slinging my bag over my shoulder. "The police will be here soon."
Before she could protest, I scooped her up in a princess carry again.
"Hey—! You could at least warn me, y'know!" she yelled, sounding more offended than actually angry.
I carried her across a few rooftops, putting some distance between us and the Monarch Theatre before setting her down.
"Umm… so, like, thanks and everything," Selina said with a wry smile, steadying herself. "But I've got places to be, so I should go now." She turned as if to leave.
"Selina," I called after her, letting out a sigh and keeping my fake deep voice steady, "how long do you think the cash in that wallet will last?"
She froze mid-step, then spun around, eyes wide. "What? How did you know?!"
"There isn't much that can stay hidden from my eyes," I said with a faint smile. Through my X-ray vision, I could clearly see the wallet which should be in my backpack, sitting snug in her pocket instead.
She must have swiped it while I was jumping down to stop the bullet. Even in that life-or-death moment, she hadn't missed her chance to steal.
I couldn't help but be a little impressed—this was exactly what I would expect from the girl who would grow up to be Catwoman.
"Look," she said, her voice softening, "we had a deal. I keep quiet, you give me the wallet. And… if you're worried about what happened before, don't be. I'm not gonna tell anyone what I saw tonight, I swear. You even saved me—I'd never snitch on you. I don't even know who you are anyway, so just… let me go. Please."
Her green eyes met mine, wide and almost pleading.
Looking at her like that only strengthened the decision forming in my mind.
"Selina," I said calmly, "before you go, will you answer a few questions?"
She hesitated, then nodded slowly. "Uh… y-yeah. Sure. Anything." The tension in her shoulders eased, just a little.
"Where are your parents?" I asked simply.
Her casual mask shattered instantly. She looked away, shoulders slumping. "They're dead," she said quietly.
Her tone was flat, but I could feel the weight behind it.
I knew her backstory changed depending on the version, so I had to ask. And even though my X-ray vision and super-hearing told me her heartbeat was spiking, that could just be the stress of this situation.
So for now, I decided to believe in her word.
"I'm sorry to hear that…" I muttered with a sigh. "Do you have any other relatives here? Maybe… a sibling?"
In so many versions of her story, Catwoman had a sister she was separated from. It could easily be the case here too.
Her green eyes snapped toward me, suddenly sharp. "Why are you asking me this stuff, Mister?"
"I just want to understand your situation," I said, keeping my tone soft and earnest.
She let out a short, incredulous laugh. "You seriously expect me to tell you my life story? On a rooftop? To you—a stranger whose name and face I don't even know?" Her voice rose, anger creeping in. "Look, mister, you saved me, yeah, but don't think for a second that just because I'm a kid I'm naïve. I've seen what happens in Gotham when people do 'good deeds.' So no—no way. I'm not telling you a thing."
In response to her outburst, I took a slow step towards her. Her anger instantly flickered into fear, and she instinctively stepped back.
Then I untied my red scarf, pulling it down to reveal my face.
Her breath caught. "Y-you look so young," she whispered, stunned.
"My name is Clark Kent," I said quietly, taking another step closer. "I'm… not from here. I was sent to Earth as a baby to survive my home planet's destruction. I was lucky enough to be found and raised by a kind couple in Kansas."
Of course, before saying any of this, I had already scanned the area—no one was close enough to overhear my words.
"A… alien?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "Aliens actually exist?"
I nodded. "Now I'm not just some stranger whose name and face you don't know." I held her gaze. "So tell me—do you have any relatives? Any siblings?"
Her shoulders sagged, and her defiance cracked. "I… I had a younger sister," she admitted quietly, not meeting my eyes. "I don't know where she is now. I-I ran away from the orphanage… but unlike me, she was a good kid. She would've been adopted by now. She must be with a good family."
"I see…" I nodded slowly, taking in her words. "And where do you live now?"
She let out a humorless laugh, tugging at the hem of her shirt. "Where do you think a kid like me lives? I stay wherever there's an empty hut in the slums of Gotham's East end. That's my home."
My chest tightened. "That's no place for a girl like you to be living," I said quietly.
"Well, you wanted to know—now you do." She crossed her arms and looked away. "So… can I go now?" Her voice was impatient, but there was a faint tremor under it.
"Selina… do you have any plans for the future?" I asked, my voice calm but serious. "Like I said before—how long do you think the cash in that wallet will really last?"
She smirked, flashing me a grin that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Long enough."
"And what happens when it's gone?" I pressed, sighing.
"Then I'll just rob another one!" she snapped. "There are plenty of fat wallets in Gotham. Why do you even care so much, Mr. Alien?"
I held her gaze. "Because I think this city—this life—is eating you alive. If I hadn't been there tonight, something terrible could have happened to you."
Her grin faltered. "T-tonight was an exception. I'm usually more careful, okay? I only go after easy targets. I just didn't think that guy would be sober after all that booze—it was just bad luck." She rubbed the back of her messy hair nervously.
"One day, this 'bad luck' might cost you your life," I said, shaking my head. "Or worse."
Her temper flared again, her voice cracking as she shouted, "So what do you expect me to do, huh? I don't have any other choice! Without stealing, I've got nothing!"
I stepped closer, gently but firmly placing my hands on her small, trembling shoulders. "Then take a different choice. I'm offering you one right now."
Her green eyes widened in confusion. "…What?"
"Come live with me, I will raise you." I said seriously.
Her jaw dropped, and she blinked rapidly. "Wha—?"
"I mean my parents," I corrected quickly. "They're good people. They'd take you in, I know they would."
Her confusion turned to disbelief, then to suspicion. "Why? Why would they do that? Are they, like… super rich or something?" She tried to squirm out of my grip. "Why would anyone want to take in a dirty street cat like me?"
"They're not rich," I said with a small smile. "They just have a little house and a farm. But they are the kindest people you'll ever meet."
Selina's face hardened again. "Look, I don't know what kind of game you're playing, but I'm not buying your lies anymore. Just let me go." She shoved against my chest.
"I don't lie, Selina," I said softly. "Why would I lie to you? Look at me—does it look like I have a reason to?"
She glared for a moment, then sighed and looked away. "…Fine. Maybe you're not lying. Good for you. But I'm just not interested, okay? Just… let me go." Her voice was quieter now, but heavy with finality.
"Why? Don't you want to live in a normal home? Don't you want to wear nice clothes? Go to a real school?" I asked, my voice soft but insistent. "You said you wanted a choice, Selina. I'm giving you one."
"No! I don't want your charity, alright? I'm fine on my own!" she snapped, throwing a small punch at my chest.
I caught her wrist gently before she could hurt herself. "Selina…" I said calmly, holding her hand steady. "This isn't charity. This is an investment in your future. When you grow up, when you're independent, you can repay me—and them—if you want to." I could tell that she had been denying my offer just out of her stubbornness.
Her shoulders trembled. "W-why me?" she whispered, her voice cracking. "There are hundreds of kids in Gotham like me. I'm just… a thief. I can't even read or write properly…" A few tears fell, hitting the rooftop between us.
"You can learn," I said softly. "You're bright, Selina. I can see that. I just don't want Gotham to swallow you whole." I took a breath, my voice quiet but firm. "Come with me. Please. I genuinely want your future to be better."
She looked up at me then, tear-streaked face illuminated faintly by the city lights.
And I meant every word. Selina Kyle was one of my favorite characters—even if she was a tragic one. A girl who grew up in the shadows, who fought her whole life just to survive. Knowing what awaited her in the years ahead, how could I just leave her here, trusting that "canon" would take care of her? Canon had already been totally fucked by me.
Anyways canon or not, she could have died tonight—or worse. And I couldn't let that happen in the future.
In truth, saving her was a far easier decision for me than saving Bruce's parents. So after having decided that I was going to take her into my home, into my life, I knew I had to be forthcoming about myself—and the truth about who I was.
"Will they really accept me?" she asked, her voice so quiet it almost got lost in the wind.
I smiled. "Trust me—my parents accepted an alien kid who literally fell from the sky. A cute girl like you? They'll be overjoyed."
Her face flushed, and she glanced down to hide it.
"Then it's settled," I said, slinging my backpack over my shoulder. Without waiting for more hesitation, I scooped her up into my arms and pushed off the rooftop.
"W-wait! I didn't agree yet!" she yelped, clutching my shirt.
"Sorry," I said with a smirk, feeling the wind whip against us as I jumped. "Too much wind in my ears—I can't hear you."
"Hmph! And you said you didn't lie," she muttered, pouting—getting comfortable in my arms.
I took one last look at the Monarch Theater with my X-ray vision and saw the flashing lights of police cars and the swarm of reporters gathering outside. With a sigh, I turned away from Gotham—I was leaving the city but not alone.
Just from one night here, I could tell Gotham was broken—beyond anything I had imagined. And now, with Batman gone—or rather, never existing—I worried about what would become of it.
Tonight was an exception as I obviously couldn't go there every other night, swooping in to stop crimes. And I also had some suspicions that there was a deeper reason why no hero had stepped up in Gotham yet.
Maybe, just maybe, the Waynes surviving would do more for this city than Batman ever could. Thomas Wayne as mayor, with his fortune backing real reform—maybe that would be Gotham's salvation. I could only hope.
It also hit me then: in my very first visit to Gotham, I had managed to destroy the canonical origin stories of both Batman and Catwoman. That had to count as a Superman-level feat in its own way.
The trip back home was… slower than I liked. Selina wasn't exactly comfortable being carried at high speeds, so I had to dial it down a lot. She drank all the water in my bag, which led to a very awkward pit stop somewhere in the middle of the forest. Traveling with a girl was already proving to be as troublesome as I had been warned.
The whole way, she kept asking questions about my parents—and me—calling me a liar when I told her I was two years younger than her.
By the time we reached the farm, it was past midnight. Through my X-ray vision, I saw both Mom and Dad still asleep. I took off my scarf, stuffed it back into my bag, and walked up to the door. Sure, I could have just walked in, but with Selina beside me, knocking seemed more polite.
Selina clung to my shirt, whispering—again—that she should just go back to Gotham. I did a great job ignoring her protests.
Eventually, Mom and Dad stirred, murmuring to each other about who could be at the door so late.
"It's me," I called softly.
My sound reached them and their footsteps got quicker. Soon the door opened—both of them looking quite surprised to see me standing there at this hour.
"Mom, Dad," I said with my brightest grin, pushing Selina forward, "I brought a stray cat home."