a thousand details come together {selina and adam}
aiming-at-darkness:
“Alright,” Adam answered her softly. He gave her hand a very gentle squeeze and wondered how many times the world could break a man’s heart for the sake of another. Then, letting go of her hand, he reached down to help her with her oxygen mask again. Several minutes passed quietly, as Adam took care of the ripped-out IV, cleaning it up where she’d torn the needle and the blood had begun to flow. He sat down next to her after that and just rested a hand lightly against her shoulder - the back of his hand, a touch meant to offer friendship and comfort, not to possess her, not to own her.
He stayed until her breathing changed, until she fell asleep. Then, moving quietly, he got up and read her chart over several times. That done, Adam slipped out, murmuring a soft “I won’t be far” to her, in case she heard. He had a conversation with her doctors after that, ensuring that he understood what care she might need at him. The staff wasn’t exactly thrilled with the idea, but at least they knew Selina would be going home in the care of someone who could, and would, take care of her wounded, worn body. He might not be able to help her heart or her soul, but at least Adam Nightingale could help her heal the wounds that had openly bled.
-
When he came back in, it was with a paper bag in his hands. Her catsuit was in the bottom, but on top were soft black sweatpants and a t-shirt. The hospital shop didn’t have much, but they did have a selection of formless clothes like this. He set the bag down on the table next to her, then sat down on the stool again.
He didn’t want to wake her. As long as she slept, maybe she could feel like she was away from this place, away from this hell. As long as she slept, she could have some sort of respite. Her body needed it, but her heart needed it more. The anguish in that cry had cut him, and he knew he’d never be able to abandon her, not until the day she walked away. Whoever Selina truly was, whatever her story was, whatever her nature one day inclined her to do to hurt him, it didn’t matter. It was the same theme that it always had been with her, proven yet again: they came into each other’s lives when neither wanted it and both needed it, and Nightingale would do his best for her.
She would rest better once out of this place though, he thought, and so loath as he was to do it, Adam woke her quietly, respectfully.
“Selina? If you’d like, we can go now.” He waited until she looked like she might be comprehending the words, then said, “you can stay with me for a while. No strings. No expectations. Just a safe, clean place, as long as you need it.”
Selina was limp as he cleaned out her arm and replaced her mask, out of the energy and the will to care either way about his helping her. Adam was treating her well, and, really, that was all she needed. She needed someone to take care of her, for once, rather than doing everything herself. Between the bandages covering burns and the reopened scars that had shattered the glass around her heart, it wouldn't take much for Selina to completely fall apart. The one thing that had really kept her going was the thought that she had been protecting others by misbehaving. Now, she didn't even have that.
Slowly drifting off to sleep didn't come easily to her, as she woke up in fits and starts, realizing with an all-too-familiar feeling of dread knotting in her stomach. Adam had left, just like everyone else had left before him, and she was alone, again. She would carry on, however. She always did carry on. Opening her eyes, she looked down at the IV in her arm, thinking through the fog that had shrouded her mind that she should take it out that she should get out of here and that she should find somewhere new.
She had always heard Metropolis was nice—complete with its own vigilante (who, in her opinion, was far too obvious to be any sort of vigilante)—or perhaps she could go somewhere else. New York City, New Orleans, Detroit, Chicago, London, Barcelona, Rome, Paris—parlez-vous francais? There was a world of opportunities for her. She didn't need the money to leave, and she didn't have anyone left here who was worth staying for. Adam had abandoned her, the batman didn't care, and the Falcone family had always just caused her a headache. She didn't need Gotham.
It seemed like only moments ago that she had thought all of these things before she was being gently prodded awake by Adam—was everything else a dream?—and she looked at the bag in his hand once before carefully sitting up, pulling the IV from where it had been placed in her arm once more. Slowly unhooking from all of the wires, that was her silent response to his offer—yes, she wanted to get out of here, yes, she wanted to stay with him. Yes. Selina stood up, despite the knee that had been injured, and slowly pulled on the pair of pants in the bag under her hospital gown.
Fully aware that Adam was still in the room, Selina just decided to get changed like ripping off a band-aid. It wasn't that she minded being naked (though, he might). It wouldn't be the first time, and she wasn't ashamed of anything. No, instead, it was that she didn't want him to see the extensive amount of damage that had covered her body, but it was already a little too late for that. She untied her hospital gown, letting it drop to the floor, exposing her bare and bandaged torso.
There were strips of adhesive bandages covering the massive burns, painful and warm to the touch, the flesh still tender and healing. Selina’s upper torso had been wrapped tightly with stiff bandages that restricted her motions, forcing her to move slowly and carefully to try and keep her ribs in place. This was all from this last encounter—none of it included the scars of the past, scars that were always there, just lurking under her catsuit.
