Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

            It had always been said that Gotham was tough.

            Though muggings were common, it was rare for the muggers to get away unscathed. The average Gothamite was walking around with a high voltage taser, brass knuckles, switchblades, and pepper spray. Smart muggers did it in groups.

            Then, of course, there was the Batman.

            Nothing spoke of Gotham’s determination like one of their own strapping on a cape at night and taking care of issues that the GCPD was either too corrupt or too stupid to handle on their own.

            Maybe this was why Serafina Wayne felt so out of place in her birth city.

            She had been in Gotham for six months now, following an eight-year absence. To her brother’s chagrin, she was back both willingly to be with him and Alfred, as well as with the ballet company. They would be performing The Nutcracker to live music played by Gotham City Royal Orchestra. For all her faults, the city had one of the best performing professional orchestras in the country.

            Her older brother had been leading his double life for the past two years. She, however, had only known for just under a year. She kept up with the online version of the Gotham Gazette and noticed some familiarities in the blurry photos that were posted. It wasn’t until she saw a picture of the car that it clicked. Altering and fixing up the car had been Bruce’s pet project the last time she was there for Christmas, though he had insisted it was just for a hobby. Finding out your big brother was Batman over a FaceTime call wasn’t exactly the best of circumstances, but she preferred it over never knowing at all.

            Even now, she knew Bruce wasn’t pleased that she was aware of his… extracurriculars. He had made her swear she would never speak of anything related to it to anyone, and she had to begrudgingly admit that he was right. Sera couldn’t lie to save her life, or anyone else’s. Her voice would start shaking, and she could never stop herself from picking at the skin around her nails once she was done speaking-

            “Sera?”

            She jumped as she was knocked from her thinking, turning her head to see Alfred standing at the door of the kitchen, an eyebrow raised. She glanced down at the cluttered, dirty counter and grimaced. She’d gotten back from rehearsal early that day, when Bruce was still asleep, and Alfred was at the market. She thought that maybe she could prepare dinner for them. She’d watched Alfred cook eggplant parmesan hundreds of times throughout her childhood, it couldn’t be that hard, right?

            Evidently, it was very difficult.

            “Hey, Alfred!” She greeted, smiling innocently. She reached up to move some hair out of her face, unintentionally smearing tomato sauce over her cheek. “How was the market?”

            The older man smiled warmly at her as he set the bags of produce on the counter. “Lovely, Miss Sera, though I had imagined I would be returning in time to prepare dinner for Master Bruce before he left for the night.”

She felt a pang of guilt hit her when she glanced at the clock. Two hours until her brother would be leaving, and she had just ruined half of the ingredients. “Um, yeah, I’m sorry. I thought I could maybe cook for you guys?” She ended the sentence as an uncertainty, as if asking if her intentions made up for the chaos.

            Luckily for her, it did. Alfred chuckled as he walked over to the fridge, beginning to load in the recent purchases before they spoiled. “It was a lovely thought, my dear, but I fear you will now need to help me come up with an alternative. Tonight will be a busy time for Master Bruce.”

            Sera frowned. She had never liked Halloween. She loved fall, but not Halloween. She’d never liked scary movies, or haunted houses, and she didn’t have enough love for candy to counteract it. If it were up to her, she would skip right past it to decorate the Manor for Christmas.

            “I’ll grab us some takeout.” She offered, taking off the stained apron she’d had enough foresight to adorn herself with. Alfred cleared his throat as she started for the door, nodding at the mirror near her head. Turning, her eyes widened at the amount of flour and breadcrumbs that coated her thick, black hair. She turned back to the butler sheepishly.

            “Um, could you call it in for me, Alfred? I think I might need a shower.”

            Only twenty minutes later, she was freshly showered and dressed in a clean hoodie and jeans, humming softly the music playing over the radio. Downtown Gotham was already packed due to the holiday, but luckily the little Chinese bistro they liked to get food from wasn’t as close to the thick of the crowd.

            Sera crammed her hands into her hoodie pockets, trying to ignore all the costumes and drunken men around her. She jogged to get out of the light drizzle that had started, with darker clouds threatening an even heavier downpour, and gratefully stepped into the warmth of the restaurant. There weren’t many people there, just a couple having dinner on the far side of the room and a man with his hood up typing away at a computer closer to the door. She stepped to the cash register.

            “Hi, I had an order for, uh…” She glanced around before lowering her voice, “Sera Wayne?”

            Luckily, the waitress hardly even flinched. “Of course, miss, right here. We’re just waiting on a fresh batch of cheese wontons and then we’ll have it out for you. Would you like to pay now?”

            After paying and dropping a fifty in the tip jar, she grabbed a Diet Coke that she’d included last minute out of the fridge and took a sip. It may have been performance season, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy life a little bit.

            As she sat waiting, the man sitting near her got up and began to gather his things. But as he turned, the strap on his bag snapped, and a slew of papers and a laptop clattered to the ground. The man dove and began frantically gathering the papers as Sera quickly set down her drink and dropped to her knees.

            “Here, let me help you…” She started, but the man shook his head, not meeting her eyes. His face was still partially hidden by his hood.

            “No, I, uh, it’s ok! I mean, I don’t want to inconvenience you-“

            “No, it’s no problem.” She reassured him, checking on the condition of his computer. “Lucky for you, I don’t think anything is broken.”

            They stood, the mess now cleaned, and she finally got a full view of his face. It was round and flat, with a crooked nose and two eyes set a little too closer together. Near the fringe of the hood, she could see a tuft of brown hair peeking through. The man cleared his throat as he put a pair of glasses crookedly back on his nose.

            “I, uh- thank you.” He told her. He was stuttering slightly and appeared to be avoiding her gaze. She smiled kindly.

            “No problem.” There was a beat of awkward silence, so she spoke again. “So, you’re in forensics?”

            The man stared at her, looking startled, then looked down at the logo on his bag. “Oh, um, yes. Yes, I’m a forensic accountant.”

            “Accountant? Wow.” She nodded at him, “You have my admiration, I’m awful with numbers.”

            “Oh, well, it-it’s not just numbers, you know. It’s also deciphering patterns, and t-trying to find equations with the answers you already have. It’s just like… one big puzzle.”

            Sera’s face lit up, “Oh, I love puzzles!”

            He blinked, some color returning to his face. “You do?”

            “Yeah, my dad and I used to do the crosswords in the paper every morning, and he always had those one-hundred-piece puzzles. It was like, our thing, you know?”

            She swallowed as she finished her sentence. Despite the fact that it had been so long, she still felt a wave of sadness when she spoke.

            It had been twenty years since her parents’ death. Two decades without them. Hundreds of trips to their grave site to feel close to them. And forever since she’d felt like her life had been stable.  

            “Sorry,” She shook her head, forcing a smile onto her face. “I don’t mean to be such a downer. I’m Sera, Sera-“

            “-Wayne.” The man jumped in, then cleared his throat. “Uh, sorry, I didn’t intend for that to come out so strangely. I just mean that I know who you are. Everyone does, I mean. It was all over the papers…” He trailed off, his cheeks paling when he looked at the clock. “Is-is that the time?”

            Before she could respond, he suddenly stuffed what was left of his things into his bag and took off out the door. Sera was left standing there in shock, before turning to the door and calling out, “It was nice to meet you!”

            As his figure disappeared and her food arrived, it occurred to her she had never gotten his name.

Chapter Text

            The air in her brother’s cave was musty, and damp. She shuddered as she stepped into the dimly lit area, struggling to let her eyes adjust to the darkness. She had no idea how Bruce worked with only the light from his computer.

            “What are you doing down here, Sera?” Her brother had turned his head to speak over his shoulder. She walked closer.

            “You didn’t come home. I got worried when I woke up and saw that your bed was empty.”

            She approached him as she spoke, watching the screen in front of him. It was playing back the footage he got from his contact lenses that he wore in uniform. Judging by the red, irritated look of his eyes, they weren’t the most comfortable.

            As she watched, she felt her stomach roll at the sight of the body. Propped up in a chair, face wrapped completely in duct tape with a bright, red message.

            No more lies.

            “Is it true?”

            At Bruce’s questioning glance, she continued, “Did his kid find him?”

            He was silent for a beat, then nodded solemnly.

            Sera sucked in a shaky breath, running a hand through her hair. Mayor Mitchell was far from the picture of nobility, but his son didn’t deserve such trauma. And now he and his poor mother have to watch as all of the mayor’s secrets are brought to light.

            “You shouldn’t be watching this.”

            “Oh, and you should? How long has it been since you got more than four hours of sleep, Bruce?”

            He didn’t answer, and she resisted the urge to physically growl in frustration. Instead, she stepped up beside him.

            “Do you have any leads?”

            Bruce pointed to the screen, where he had slowed the video down during their conversation. It showed the mayors hand, hidden in a paper bag.

            “His thumb was cut off. And he was beaten with a blunt force object.”

            Sera cocked her head to the side. “His thumb?”

            Bruce nodded. “And this was left at the crime scene. Addressed directly to me.”

            She glanced down at the photo copies. It was a card; the front was an owl with a pumpkin and a skeleton behind him. Inside the card was messy, scrawled writing accompanying the printed text. It read:

From your secret friend

Whoo?

Haven’t a clue?

Let’s play a game, just me and you…

             The written handwriting was even more vague. What does a liar do when he’s dead?

            “He lies still.” Sera read quietly, then said sarcastically, “Wow, I can’t help but shake the feeling that Mayor Mitchell may have been lying about something.”

            “Seems that way. But about what?” Bruce squinted at the screen. She scoffed.

            “B, the guy was a career politician. That’s all they do.”

            “Yeah, but the killer is clearly after something specific. And duct-taping his face? Almost like he’s-“

            “Silencing him.” Sera agreed. She inhaled, then looked at him. “Or maybe he’s accusing someone else of silencing him?”

            When Bruce looked at her, she continued. “Well, think about it. Killer accuses him of lying, and whatever lie he supposedly told was bad enough to piss someone off to the point of not just murder, but a risky one. He went into his house. On Halloween, too, when there are people all over the street. But the killer was either so enraged or so determined to complete his mission that he was willing to chance it.” She turned to him. “And whatever he wanted to accomplish, you’re a part of it.”

            He didn’t answer. They sat there, in comfortable silence, for a few more minutes before she turned to him. “Alfred sent me down here. The accountants will be here soon. You should get ready.”

            She heard her brother scoff quietly. “I’m not interested in money right now-“

            “That’s what you think this is about?” She snapped, feeling her temper flare at her brother’s blasé attitude. “Money?”

            “Don’t start with me, Serafina,” Bruce glared at her, “Alfred already lectured me this morning.”

            “Well, maybe he should start physically slapping some sense into you because you’re not listening, Bruce. Dad wanted you to take over, not me, and that means you’re responsible. You’re the eldest, the heir, and things are getting bad. We can’t just let everything mom and dad built fall apart.”

            “Everything they built is already falling apart!” He bit at her, his eyes practically shooting flames at her behind the black makeup from his uniform, “This city is sick, it’s eating itself alive-“

            “I don’t care about the fucking city, I care about-!” I care about you. About Alfred. About all of us.

            The air was ringing, and Sera sucked in a breath, willing herself to calm down before she spoke again. Her tone was notably calmer. “You know Alfred hates accounting stuff, and I suck at math, so we can’t do this one for you. The least you can do is be there while they discuss it.” She looked around sardonically before sneering at him, “Unless you think all of Vengeance’s toys are paid for by the money fairy.”

            He didn’t respond, or even look at her as she walked back to the elevator, and she swallowed the hurt that rose in her chest.

            It wasn’t that she and Bruce weren’t close. Hell, when Alfred had raised the two after their parents had died, they had clung to each other with the knowledge that they were the last two Wayne’s alive. But Bruce’s anger was slowly consuming him; it clouded his mind, made it difficult to see. Serafina hadn’t quite been four years old when her parents died, at home with Alfred when they were gunned down in that alley while Bruce watched. And now, it felt like Gotham was hoarding all of her brother’s attention. It was a very spoiled, rich girl way of thinking of which she was unfortunately aware. There were innocent people who depended upon the Batman, and a larger part of her was proud, but she couldn’t help it. She still missed the days when it was just them against this awful world they’d been left alone in.

            Upstairs, Alfred had prepared some fresh fruit. She loaded her plate, knowing that by the time she was done with rehearsal in six hours, she would be half-starved again.

            Alfred was pouring over the cipher the killer had left for Bruce, the lines in his forehead more pronounced as he scribbled. Footsteps alerted them that Bruce was there.

            His hair was wet against his head from his shower, and Sera bit back a snicker when he winced at the sunlight.

            “Some fresh berries, there.” Alfred gestured to the food without looking up, and Bruce gave him puzzled look as he picked up the offered food.

            “What are you doing?”

            “Just reminiscing about my days in the Circus.” Alfred responded. He inhaled, “This is actually quite elusive.”

            The two men stared hard at the cipher, and Bruce pointed to the paper. “Where did you get those O’s?”

            “’He lies still’ is only a partial key.” The butler explained, “It only gives us H, E, L, I, S, and T. So, I’m looking for any double symbols to start, trying letters, see where it leads.”

            Sera looked up just in time to see Bruce slip on a pair of black sunglasses, and this time, she couldn’t fight her laughter. “Damn, so we’re really embracing the vampire aesthetic, are we?”

            Bruce gave her a deadpan expression, but before he could respond, Dory’s voice interrupted them.

            “Sir?”

            The three turned to see her standing in the doorway.

“The accountants are here.”

            Sera glanced down at her watch and nodded. “Right on time. Speaking of which,” she grabbed her duffle bag strap, slinging it over her shoulder as she stood, “it’s time for me to get going.”

            “What-“ Bruce held up his hands, “Really? All that lecture about being responsible?”

            “Hey, I am being responsible.” She shot back, “I made a commitment to the North American Ballet Company.” Kissing each man on cheek, she waved over her shoulder as she walked out. “I’ll be back around eight.”

            Serafina couldn’t remember the first time she’d danced.

            Her mother had enrolled her in ballet when she was only two. Alfred told her that anytime music came on, Sera would begin dancing and moving. She especially loved when her dad or brother would scoop her up into their arms and dramatically waltz through the room with her feet dangling in the air, giggling hysterically.

            From there, it snowballed. She couldn’t get enough. Every dance intensive offered; every private tutor available. Unlike her classmates, Sera was not naturally gifted. She was not particularly tall or long limbed, and she still had to stretch every day to maintain her flexibility. But what Sera lacked in natural ability she made up for in sheer determination and ambition.

            Not enough, though, she thought somewhat dejectedly as she was changing back into her street clothes. But she pushed that thought away. It was disappointing that she hadn’t gotten the part of the Sugar Plum Fairy, but there wasalways next year. And she would work even harder, rehearse even longer, and be even more than she had been this year. Not to mention, she didn’t hate the dancer who had received the role. Margaret had been something of an older sister figure, and she was very talented.

            With that thought in mind, she finished packing her things and bid her friends goodbye. Outside, she ensured that her hood was pulled up and her head was down before stepping into the wet, frigid air. The paparazzi had only been able to get a partial photo of her in the past six years, a fact of which she was immensely proud of.            Her parents had always been extremely protective of her when they were alive, and one of the wishes they passed to Alfred was that they didn’t want their daughters face photographed until she was eighteen, when she could decide for herself. After her birthday, she decided that she liked the privacy.

            As she got into her car, her stomach rumbled lowly. A burger sounds so good right now… she thought wistfully, and she pulled up Safari to see where she could get it the fastest. She wanted a quick, hot meal and her bed, maybe even some Netflix.

            After driving to the diner only a few miles away that her phone had brought up, she hurried inside to get out of the rain. It was quiet, with one man at the bar and a few others spotted throughout the booths. Once inside, she checked her phone, hoping to see some kind of update from Bruce about the case, but was met with disappointment. Pulling off her hood, she shuffled her hair and moved to sit at an empty booth when a familiar face made her stop. Smiling slightly, she stepped closer.   

            “How’s your laptop?”

            The man she’d met at the Chinese restaurant jumped, whipping around with wide eyes. When he saw her, he blinked.

            “Oh, Miss-Miss Wayne! I’m sorry, I didn’t-“

            “No, please.” She held up hand. “I can’t stand being called ‘Miss Wayne’. You can just call me Sera.”

            “Sera.” He repeated, then smiled. “Of course. I’m, um, I’m Ed.”

            “Ed.” She nodded, shaking his offered hand. “It suits you.”

            He smiled bashfully as she climbed into the stool next to him. “So,” she started with a playful smile, “do you come here often?”

            Ed nodded seriously, not seeming to pick up on her joke. “Yes, it’s very good. Their soup is the best dish.”

            “Hm.” She hummed. “You know, I was in the mood for a burger, but with the weather, hot soup sounds delicious.” She shifted in her seat so she could drop her bag down and signaled to the waitress. “Hi, yes, can I please get a bowl of chicken noodle soup and some bread on the side?”

            As the waitress left, Ed spoke again. “You’re a dancer.” He said matter-of-factly, nodding at her bag. She glanced down to see it was half-open, one of her pointe shoes shining in the lowlight of the diner. She nodded, grimacing.

            “Yeah, sorry if I smell kinda sweaty. I just came from rehearsal. We’re performing the-“

            “Nutcracker.” Ed cut her off, then blushed. “Sorry, I-I just mean that I’ve seen the advertisements. What’s your role?”

            “Clara.”

“Wow, the lead. That must be quite something.

She nodded, then smiled ruefully. “Do you mind if I confess something?”

            Something flashed in his eyes, and he leaned forward. “Yes, of course.”

            “I’m… not super happy with my part.” She sighed, shaking her head. “I originally auditioned for the Sugar Plum Fairy, but it went to one of the older dancers. I know that Clara is considered one of the leads and is this super important part and I am grateful, but I’ve always had this dream of performing that solo on stage.”

            Ed shook his head, brushing off her guilt. “I don’t think that’s bad at all.”

            Sera pursed her lips. “You don’t?”

            “No, not at all. It’s good to have goals, dreams, ambitions. That’s how we grow better at our craft, how we improve the world around us. Too many people just give up and accept things as is, but they should be fighting for things to be better.”

            Sera cocked her head at him as the waitress delivered their food, and a wide smile crept onto her face. “You know what, Ed? I like you.”

            “You do?” He sounded surprised. She nodded, stirring her soup.
            “Yeah, you sound like my kind of person. And you remind me of someone.”

            The two sat there for almost an hour, eating their food and talking. Sera learned he, too, was an orphan. He worked in forensic accounting, and he loved crossword puzzles. He was also very awkward; he stuttered over his words, and would always start to stay something, then second-guess himself and say something else. His favorite color was green, and he wasn’t fond of animals.

            They were just entertaining the idea of dessert when the TV caught Sera’s attention. Her eyes widened, and she waved to the waitress, “Um, hey, can you turn that up, please?”

            The woman did so, also staring at the screen, and Sera felt her heart drop when she heard the words the reporter was saying.

            “More breaking news this hour as the city is rocked by a second high-profile murder in as many nights. And this time, the killer has come forward to claim credit online. His victim, Police Commissioner Pete Savage, was found dead earlier tonight inside the Police Athletic League facilities in the Tricorner area.”

            “Jesus…” Sera whispered, not noticing Ed’s eyes flickering to her as the newscaster spoke.

            “The killer posted the following message on social media, and we have to warn you: the video is very disturbing.”

            They cut to a new screen with a white question mark spray-painted on green fabric. Heavy breathing made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end, and the camera shook as the man filming moved it to his face.

            He was wearing a mask, a piece of irony that made Sera both angry and afraid at the same time.

            “Hello, people of Gotham. This is the Riddler speaking. On Halloween night, I killed your mayor because he was not who he pretended to be. But I am not done.”

            There was the sound of muffled whimpering and panting, and the camera panned over to a man wearing some kind of large contraption on his head. It was the commissioner, and she realized in horror that the bottom part of the contraption held two large, gray rats. Two tubes on either side ran up to a cage that was taped to the mans face, and cold horror dripped into her chest when she realized the tubes would lead the rats directly to his eyes, sectioning them off and ensuring they would slowly eat their way through his eyeballs and out the back of his skull to get out.

            “Oh, my god…” She put a hand to her mouth as the killer continued speaking.

            “…here is another who will soon be losing face. And I will kill again, and again, and again, until the day of judgement when the truth about our city will FINALLY be unmasked!”

            Sera jumped slightly when he suddenly raised his voice, shouting in a rage at the camera before he bid them goodbye, and the video ended. Before she or Ed could speak, her phone chimed.

From: Bruce

GET HOME NOW

            “Uh,” she stood, gathering her stuff, “I have to go.”

            “Oh.” Ed looked disappointed, and she nodded regretfully.

            “Yeah, my brother is probably watching the news, too. He just texted that he wants me home.”

            “Your brother.” Something in Ed’s face shifted. His eyes seemed to change, and it was like the friendly part of him closed off. “Bruce Wayne.”

            She was moving too quickly, too distracted, to give it much thought. “Yeah, um, here.” She pulled out a one-hundred-dollar bill, “I’ll pay for both of us, and you can pay for us again next time.”

            He startled. “Uh, next time?”

            Smiling, she scribbled her number down on a napkin and slid it towards him. Looking to the waitress, she nodded at the one hundred and said, “You can keep the change.” With one final wave to Ed, she hurried out to her car, folding her arms to protect herself from the furious onslaught of freezing rain that rushed at her.

Chapter Text

            Once back at the tower, Sera wasted no time in finding Alfred. He was in the study, watching the news with a grim expression. He looked up as she entered, and she nodded at the screen.

            “Is he back yet?”

            Alfred shook his head. “No, he wanted to speak to Lieutenant Gordon. Did you…?”

            She nodded as he trailed off, looking at the screen. “Who the hell does that to somebody?”

            The older man wore a grim expression as he answered. “I don’t know, but I really don’t like how he’s started addressing messages to your brother.”

            Sera’s head whipped to face him, eyes wide. “There’s another message?”

            Alfred blinked. “Didn’t Bruce tell you?”

            Sera pressed her lips together. “No, he didn’t. All I’ve gotten is a text demanding I come home.”

            Alfred chuckled lowly at her expression and placed his hand on her shoulder. “You know he just worries for you. We both do. You’ve been gone so long, and Gotham is much worse than when you left it.”

            “When I left it, you couldn’t go more than two miles without witnessing some kind of attempted mugging or carjacking.” She told him irritably, “It’s not like I don’t realize how bad things are.” She paused. “I just want him to take me seriously.”

            “He takes you seriously, Sera-“

            “No, he doesn’t.” She cut him off, walking away from him as his hand dropped from her shoulder. She turned, throwing her hands up in the air. “You don’t either! The both of you are convinced I’m that fragile teenager from the last time you saw me. I mean, growing up I couldn’t be photographed, no social media until I turned eighteen, no dating…”

            “Those were for your own good, darling.” His voice was gentle, but firm as he included the rare pet name he reserved for her. “Not to mention they were your parents’ wishes.”

            “Why?” She demanded, walking back towards him. “I deserve to know, Alfred-“

            “And you will. One day.” He told her, putting his hands on her shoulders. He looked at her face, then sighed. “Your mother and father, they left letters for the both of you when you turned twenty-five if something were to ever happen to them. They kept them in their room.”

            Her parents room. Which Bruce had chained shut and refused to let her enter. It was like a tomb in Wayne Tower, untouched since the night her parents died. She furrowed her brows.

            “But it hasn’t been unlocked in over ten years.”

            Alfred nodded sadly. “I fear your brother did not want to go in there to retrieve his. But when you come of age next year, you will have the right to yours. As well as the rest of the jewelry you mother left you.”

            Sera’s fingers drifted to the crucifix necklace she always wore; the only piece of jewelry that she never understood. The Wayne’s had never been very religious, at least not enough for her to understand why her mother would value the golden cross so much. As if reading her mind, Alfred took her hand and patted it, smiling warmly.

            “When the time comes, the letter will explain everything. It’s their place to tell you, not mine or Bruce’s.” Now, his eyes looked sad. “They would be so proud of you; do you know that?”

            Sera sniffled, blinking as her eyes grew hot. “I hope so.”

            Alfred looked into her eyes and said strongly, “I know so.” Bending down, he kissed her forehead. “Now, go shower. You stink of sweat.” He gave her a small shove towards the door.

            “Alright, alright, jeeze, Alfred.”

            When Bruce returned in the early hours of the next morning, he had another message addressed to him and, apparently, a cute new ally.

            “Wow, talking to a girl.” Sera mused as she watched her brother go over his most recent footage. “Guess you can finally cross that one of the bucket list; only took you thirty years.”

            Bruce gave her an irritable expression but didn’t respond. Sera leaned closer. “Who is she talking about? Her friend?”

            “The girl in the pictures.” Bruce told her, gesturing to another copy of the photo of the mayor with a blond in very high heels and a tight dress. “They were both waitresses at the same club; The Iceberg Lounge.”

            “Oh, yeah, I know that place.” Sera responded, then rolled her eyes when her brother snapped to look at her. “Calm down, I’m just talking about the other dancers. A few of them went clubbing there last weekend.”

            “Anything weird?”

            “Just Dropheads and drunks, same as usual. Want me to ask around, see if anyone saw anything?”

            Bruce hesitated. She knew he didn’t like involving her in this; he and Alfred refused to let her help with anything related to the Batman. But she also knew he was hard pressed for leads.

            “Fine. Just be careful, please.”

            “I’m always careful, B.” She looked at her brother, now, really looked. There were large bags under his eyes, which were bloodshot and irritated from his contacts. His hair looked like it hadn’t been washed in a while, and his suit smelled like sweat and…

            “Holy shit, is that blood?”

            Her brother cut on his cheek, long and jagged. “Yeah, the waitress, turns out she packs quite the punch.”

            Sighing, Sera crouched down, shuffling around for the First-Aid kit she knew Alfred kept in here.

            “What are you doing?”

            “Just sit down and take off the suit.” She told him exasperatedly. “Please.” She added.

            He didn’t look happy about it, but he did obey. The laceration he exposed wasn’t particularly deep, but it was long. It stretched from the tip of cheekbone up past his temple and into his hairline. She hoped he wouldn’t mind a small bald spot.

            Bruce hardly flinched. As she worked, he only sat there, staring at his work. Occasionally, his muscles would tense or his jaw would twitch, but that was the only indication he gave that it hurt.

            “I miss talking to you.”

            She didn’t actually mean to say it. But sitting there, just the two of them again (not arguing for once), she felt her chest ache. They used to be so close; they talked all the time, even when she left Gotham to travel. Writing letters, texting, video calls, sending funny videos. But a little over five years ago, Bruce’s desperation for vengeance against their parents’ killer began to take over. He started getting into Gotham more, into the crime statistics and the police department. He spoke to her less and less, until eventually, he was almost ignoring her completely. It was one of the reasons she’d wanted to come back to Gotham. She worried about her brother.

            “We still talk.”

            “No, we don’t.” She cut him off softly, her voice breaking slightly at the end. “I never see you anymore. You’re off galivanting around this God-awful city with a cape attached to your back, beating up carjackers.”

            “I’m saving people-“

            “I know.” She snapped, cutting him off. Then, she continued, softer. “I know.” Smiling ruefully, “You were always the brave one, Bruce. I remember when that kid, when I was in the eighth grade, stole my math homework and turned it in as his own. You marched right into my school, walked me to class, and threatened to have him expelled. And the whole time I remember staring at you and feeling so safe. I remember thinking to myself how lucky I was to have you, my brother, to look out for me. But suddenly, I don’t know you as well anymore. You’re gone all the time, you never speak to me or Alfred, you look like you haven’t slept in days…” She trailed off as she finished bandaging the wound, sniffling and realizing she had begun to cry. A tear traced down her cheek and she licked her lips, salt hitting her tongue. When Bruce turned to face her, she smiled sadly.

            “I know this plan, this project, is very important to you. I just wish…”

            I just wish it hadn’t become more important than me.

            That night, Bruce left again. Something about his new lady friend helping him infiltrate the Lounge. Sera had been asking around at rehearsal to see if the dancers had seen anything strange when they went, but they weren’t much help. In fact, some of them seemed a little embarrassed and quick to change the subject. Sera also didn’t miss the bloodshot eyes some of them held.

            Dropheads, she thought, internally scoffing. She was no rat, though. She would let the directors figure it out on their own.

            Once rehearsal was over, she headed back to the tower, intent on a hot shower. Maybe some hot chocolate and a Christmas movie.

            It was raining again, causing her to rush to her car. She wasted no time driving off.

            Maybe, if it hadn’t been raining, she would have seen him.

General P.O.V.

            Ed hadn’t intended to become friendly with Serafina Wayne. When they’d met in the Chinese restaurant, he was just there to get pictures of her. But then his bag strap had broken, and she had helped him, and she was just so beautiful…

            And then when she’d been there again, at the diner. She had come up to him, willingly, and sat with him. She took his recommendation on the soup and had told him that she liked him.

            She was distracting him. He had to be at the Lounge in one hour to pick up that piece of trash, Phil Colson. But he couldn’t help it, he had to see her again. He just wanted new pictures, that was all.

And he wanted to see her dancing.

            But he hadn’t been counting on becoming so distracted. He knew Sera was a ballerina, everyone did. That’s why the ‘Princess of the City’ was never actually in the city anymore, she was off performing in Italy and France and all other sorts of fancy places. But he had never seen her dance up close.

            She was mesmerizing.

            The grace she possessed, the way she moved, the delicacy of her limbs… he was transfixed. He had no idea a human could move so beautifully.

            And when she was done, he was supposed to drive away. He had the pictures; he had the plan for her and that fucking brother of hers. But he followed her, staying in the shadows as she entered her car. And when she drove away, he followed.

            Of course, he couldn’t follow her into Wayne Tower. But he could get onto the roof of the building across from it. He could use his camera, he could zoom in, he could see her room…

            And, oh God, he could see her.

            She locked her door behind her, began undressing to get ready for the shower. She felt so safe, it seemed, this high up. Safe enough to not pull her curtains. The thought made his stomach curl in fury. Of course, a Wayne would think they were safe being so far above everyone else.

            But you’re not safe, Serafina, he thought giddily, I can see you, I can get to you. You’re not safe from me.

            As she was undressing, he felt it. That familiar pressure in his belly, between his legs. He was already getting hard. Not just from how beautiful her body was, (and oh, was she gorgeous) but from the realization that she had no idea he was watching her. He felt a sudden surge of power and satisfaction. Right now, he had the upper hand. She may have more money, more power, more sway than he did, but right now he was the one in control of her.

            The thought had him harder than a brick almost immediately, and the fantasies in his head started coming through so fast he could barely get his zipper down fast enough.

            Sera, laying beneath him, sobbing. She was strong, but he was still bigger and stronger. He could tie her up, rip her clothes off before she could struggle too much. She would cry and beg as he took her. He would take her dry- no, no, he wouldn’t. He would force her body to betray her, listen to her fight him off as she began to hate herself, her body. It would feel so good, and he would make sure it felt good for her. No matter how much she insisted it didn’t. He would go harder, and harder, and harder, as she cried and screamed-

            The image of her screaming in pain and horror finally did him in. He groaned lowly as he finished, her name stuttering from his lips as he spent himself. Panting, he slowly tucked himself back into his pants, wiping his hand on an old rag he had stuffed in his bag. By now, she had entered her bathroom, safe for now from his lecherous gaze.

            But not for long.

            As Edward got back on his bike to get to the Lounge, he felt a surge of excitement. Maybe, just maybe, he could alter the plans he had for Serafina Wayne.

Chapter Text

            “Alfred?” Sera called as she rushed to shrug her coat on, “Alfred, are you there?”

            “Yes, Miss Sera?” The butler poked his head over the railing of the stairs. She nodded at the elevator.

            “I have to head to the theatre for a fitting this morning, I probably won’t have time to stop by again before I go to the memorial. Can you let Bruce know where I am?”

            “Of course. Please, Sera, drive safely. All the rain has made the roads incredibly slick, there was a bad accident on the bridge this morning.”

            Alfred was right, the roads were slick. If Sera hadn’t spent most of her life driving in such weather, she probably would have rear-ended a car or two. The theatre district was, thankfully, not as crowded due to the memorial. All the traffic was congregating around the catholic church building at the center of the city. It was one of the oldest buildings that was still standing, and despite Sera’s aversion, it was a beautiful building.

            As she got out of her car to cross over to the elevator in the parking garage, she felt a chill go down her neck. Startled, she whipped around. Empty.

            But the tingling remained. She folded her arms over her gray hoodie, thinking maybe it was the chill in the air. But as she started walking again, she couldn’t shake the feeling.

            Someone was watching her.

            Stopping again, she looked around. There were a handful of cars spread out across the level she was on, no doubt from other performers, stage crew, and costume department staff that were there that day. But all the cars looked empty; she couldn’t see any shadows sitting in the seats.

            “Hey,” she called out, “Anybody else in here?”

            A loud clattering, like a can being kicked over the concrete, nearly made her jump out of her skin, and she grabbed the strap of her bag in her hand so tightly her knuckles turned white.

            “Max, if that’s you, this is not funny!” She lectured, praying that it was just her fellow dancer.

            But again, silence.

            Sera could feel her heart beginning to race. She wanted to brush off the feeling, but she couldn’t shake the sensation of eyes watching her every move. She turned and began speed-walking to the elevators. As she walked, she could have sworn she heard footsteps, hiding in the echoes of her own. She began to walk faster, and faster, until she was jogging and then full-blown sprinting to the elevator. She slammed her hand down on the button, pressing it frantically as she looked around. She couldn’t see anyone, but the hair on the back of her neck was standing straight up and her heart was pounding away in her chest. She started to walk towards the stair exit but stopped when she saw the DO NOT ENTER: UNDER CONSTRUCTION sign.

            She moved to stand in front of the elevator again, frantically pushing the button. “Come on, come on…” She whispered, cold sweat breaking out over her skin. A soft click made her freeze.

            It sounded like a camera.

            Turning, she pressed her back to the elevator doors. The parking lot was empty, but then she heard it again.

            Click!

            She whipped her head side to side, desperately trying to spot where someone could be hiding, but it felt like she was going insane. There was no one there.

            Ding!

            Never in her life had she been so grateful for the sound of the elevator doors opening. Practically stumbling over herself to get in, she frantically pushed the main floor and slammed the door close button, leaning against the wall to take a deep breath as they slid closed-

            BANG!

            Sera shrieked, pressing a hand to her mouth as a hand appeared in between the doors to stop them. They slid open to reveal a familiar face with an easy smile.

            “Hey, Sera!” Max, the dancer portraying the Nutcracker himself, greeted her as he stepped into the elevator. “Sorry, I heard you calling my name. I would have called back to you, but I’ve been chugging this coffee.” As he stepped in, he noticed the look on her face. His expression dropped to one of concern. “Are you ok?”

            Sera sucked in a deep breath, taking one last look out into the parking lot. Empty.

            “I’m fine.” She told him as the doors slid closed, clearing her throat. “I just- uh, this city always gets to me, you know?”

            “Yeah, tell me about it.” He snorted, taking another sip of his coffee. “I have no idea how you grew up here, the traffic alone is enough to give me a migraine.”

            Sera nodded, forcing a smile on her face and pushing down her fears. No one was following her. It had just been Max.

            She was safe.

            Once she was done with her fitting, she quickly changed into a simple but elegant black dress for the memorial, slipping on her only pair of black stilettos. She wasn’t normally one for such a small amount of color, but this was a memorial. She wasn’t going to be the one showing up in a red dress.

            Keeping her makeup muted and more respectful, she opted to keep her hair down before hopping into her car and driving back towards the church. She had hoped the traffic would have lightened up by now, but to her dismay, it had only gotten worse.

            On top of the traffic, she realized the large crowd of people surrounding the church weren’t onlookers, they were protestors.

            “No more lies! No more lies!” They cried, and Sera was shocked to see several holding posters and signs displaying the question mark that the Riddler had branded himself with.

            “What the…” She muttered as she drove, trying to watch the protestors and keep her eyes on the road. Weren’t these people aware that this man was a serial killer? He wasn’t doing this to actually help, he was feeling angry and slighted. More people seemed to join the chanting crowd as she drove, some of them trying to climb over the barriers. Police were pushing them back, directing some of the cars through traffic.

            Luckily, being a member of the one of the most affluent families in the city afforded her certain privileges, and she pulled up to the parking valet gratefully. As soon as she stepped out, she heard one of the photographers whisper, “Holy shit, that’s Sera Wayne!” The flashes of the cameras were difficult to ignore, but she resisted the urge to look as she stepped onto the curb, keeping her head down to avoid any direct shots of her face.

            “Hello, miss.” The young valet greeted her, taking the keys. “Name?”

            “Wayne.” She told him, smiling kindly as his eyes widened.

            “Oh, uh, Miss Wayne. Of course, I’ll park it next to your brothers.”

            Sera startled, then narrowed her eyes. “My brother?”

            The valet nodded, pointing behind her. She turned and sure enough, there was Bruce, talking to a man with curly hair and sunglasses up on the steps of the building. The man was escorting a woman with an awful black hat and was around him was an entourage of men who seemed to surround him like some kind of security team. Stepping closer, she caught the tail-end of their conversation.

            “…it means he took the Hippocratic Oath.” Bruce was saying, his voice dark. The man cocked his head, then chuckled.

            “Hippocratic Oath, huh?”

            Before anyone else could say anything, Sera spoke. “Bruce?”

            Her brother whipped around, and when he saw her, his face went white. He turned to look at the man again, who was now staring at Sera with his lips parted in shock. In fact, several of the men around him also were staring at her with wide eyes, but she didn’t get a chance to get a better look before her brother was on her.

            “What are you doing here?” He hissed, and she realized he was completely blocking her view of the men behind him.

            “Who is this?” The man called out. His tone seemed friendly on the surface, but Sera didn’t miss the undertone of shock and maybe… anger?

            “It’s my sister, we’ll be leaving now.” Bruce told him, his voice hard, as he took her arm and began leading her away. As he did, Sera turned back to see the men one last time. As she did, her crucifix swayed in front of her dress and caught the light. One of the men standing near the man with sunglasses spotted it, and he looked…

            He looked like he’d just seen a ghost.

            “What the hell are you doing, Sera?”

            The youngest Wayne turned to glare at her brother as he escorted her into the church, following the crowd.

            “I’m representing our family, B.” She snapped, put off by her brother’s accusatory tone. “You’re not exactly known for public appearances. The city would notice if its wealthiest family failed to show up for the mayors’ memorial. Better question is: what are you doing here?”

            He looked around them, his jaw tensing as he responded. “Serial killers like to follow the news about their crimes. I’m hoping I’ll find some kind of lead here.”

            She hummed, then narrowed her eyes at him. “Who was that man?”

            “That was Carmine Falcone.” He told her, then stopped and turned her to face him. “Serafina, listen to me. This is very important. Do not speak to him, do not interact with him, don’t even be in the same room as him, alright? If he or any of his men try to speak with you, leave immediately and call me.”

            “What-“ She shook her head as he hit with the rapid fire instructions, “What the hell are you talking about? Why would I want to talk to him?”

            “Sera, I know you’re not happy with me right now, and I promise I will explain everything later. But I’m serious; avoid Carmine Falcone and his men at all costs, do you understand?”

            Except she didn’t understand. She had a million questions. But the look on her brother’s face and the desperate tone in his voice brought it all to a halt. She nodded, trying to reassure him. “Ok, yeah, B, I promise I won’t speak to them.”

            He breathed out, his face dropping into a relieved expression. “Ok, good.” Then, to her surprise, he held out his arm. “Now, let’s get this over with.”

            It had been a while since the Wayne siblings had been seen in public; even longer since they’d been seen together. People were whispering, and Sera ducked her head reflexively as a few pulled out their phones to take pictures. But when her brother glared at them, they put them back down sheepishly.

            The crowd moving into the church was slow, and they found themselves halted for a moment. A man next to Bruce was muttering something, but she wasn’t paying very close attention. Up ahead, Falcone and one of his men had managed to move past them. They were standing off to the side, whispering to each other, and it looked serious. It was difficult to read the look on Falcone’s face due to the sunglasses, but the man across from him looked like he was trying to reassure him of something. It was the man who had been staring at her as they walked away; scars crisscrossed the lower part of his face, and he was moving with a limp.

            Right then, both men turned towards her. Sera unconsciously gripped her brothers arm tighter as he listened to the man next to them speaking, feeling uncomfortable under their gazes. For a terrifying moment, neither of them moved. Just stared at her. Then, a female voice behind her caused her to jump violently.

            “Bruce and Sera Wayne?”

            Sera recognized the woman quickly; Bella Real, one of the mayoral candidates. Or, the last one left, now. Despite being a much younger politician, her face was serious as she approached the siblings.

            “Why haven’t you called me back?” She asked, and Sera blinked.

            Damn, straight to the point.

            “Sorry?” Bruce asked, confused.

            “I’m Bella Real, I’m running for mayor. I wouldn’t be bothering you here, but your people keep telling me you’re unavailable. Will you walk with me?”

            Bruce seemed reluctant but agreed. He stood in the middle as he, Sera, and Bella walked with the crowd. Sera noticed then the armed officers standing on the balcony, assault rifles at the ready. It seemed they were also expecting the Riddler to make an appearance.

            “You know, you could really be doing more for this city. Your family has a history of philanthropy, but as far as I can tell neither of you have done much to pick up that mantle.”

            Sera felt a sting at the woman’s words. She couldn’t be angry, not really, because Bella was right. Her parents were constantly donating money, fundraisers, and even lead a few charities of their own. She really wasn’t doing anything. At least Bruce was making a difference, even if no one could see it and give him credit for it.

            “Oh, my god…” The mayoral candidate whispered, and Sera was knocked from her thoughts when she noticed they were near the front of the crowd, now. Chairs were set up and right at the front was the late mayors family. A little boy sat with his shoulders hunched. Almost as if he could feel the stares, he turned to meet the siblings’ gazes.

            “I’m going to go pay my respects. Will you both wait for me?”

            Bruce nodded, but Sera broke away from her brother, walking towards the young boy. Sitting next to him, she smiled softly.

            “Hi. My name is Sera Wayne.”

            The boy was silent for a moment, and she nearly accepted he wouldn’t answer when he spoke. “I’m Don Mitchell the third, but everyone just calls me Donnie.”

            She stuck her hand out, shaking his gently. “I like that nickname; my full name is Serafina, but I hate when people call me that. Only my brother calls me that when he’s upset with me.”

            She was pleased to see her words had an affect; the little boy smiled slightly. “Yeah, my mom calls me by my full name when she’s mad, too.” Then, his face became somber again as he looked up at her. “Your dad died, too, right? And your mom.”

            Sera felt her chest clench. “Yes, they did. Twenty years ago.”

            “Were you as old as me?”

            She shook her head. “No, I was only four. My older brother was about your age, though.”

            “But you remember them?”

            A lump formed in her throat when she looked up at the coffin, decorated in lovely white flowers. She could still remember her parents’, clear as day. Her mother had always loved flowers, but the lack of color over her coffin had always upset Sera. It felt so solemn, not at all like her mother’s cheerful, gentle personality.

            “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

            Suddenly, faint shouts caused her to turn. She stood, walking to the aisle to get a better look. She could hear a shrieks, followed by a sharp squealing that sounded almost like… tires?

            And then the doors at the front of the church shattered open.

            A black SUV barreled through the building, crowds of people screaming and diving out of the way. She barely had time to notice that Donnie had stood and come stand by her before she realized the car was coming right for them. She turned, grabbing his sleeve, and for a horrifying moment it looked like they wouldn’t be able to move in time, the black hood was almost right on them-

            But then a body slammed into her own, sending she and the boy flying to the side.

            Sera grunted as her body hit the floor, Donnie still wrapped in her arms. She looked up to see her brother, his hair askew and out of breath. He was the one who had saved them.

            “Are you okay?” Bruce demanded, and she nodded as the boy’s mother rushed towards them. Bruce helped her to her feet as the woman and her son ran off, Donnie barely able to glance back at them before he was ushered out of sight.

            “Who the hell is that?” Sera demanded, raising her voice slightly to be heard over the chaos. The police were now swarming the car, guns raised, from where it had crashed into a pillar.

            “I don’t know.” He told her darkly, holding her tightly and shifting her slightly behind him.

            “Get out of the car!” One of the cops, who she realized was Lieutenant Gordon, shouted as they all raised their weapons, “Get out of the car and show me your hands!”

            There was a brief, suspenseful pause before the soft click of the door handle echoed through the air. Slowly, the door opened, and a gray pants suit covered leg stuck out, followed by a pair of hands. That was when they all noticed whoever it was had a smartphone in his right hand.

            The man stumbled out, his mouth duct taped, and Sera recognized him as soon as one of the cops spoke.

            “Christ, it’s Colson.”

            But that wasn’t even the worst part. Sera’s eyes flicked down to the black collar around his neck, flickering red and blue, and then widened as one of the police officers shouted.

            “There’s a bomb around his neck!”

            No sooner than she’d spoken did a loud ringing pierce the air. People screamed, ducking, and Colson held up the phone. That was when she saw that he wasn’t holding the phone, it was also duct-taped to his hand to ensure he couldn’t put it down.

            “Let’s clear this place out, now!” Gordon ordered.

            He didn’t even finish his sentence before the panicked crowd was moving, beginning to swarm as they rushed to get out of the building. Bruce grabbed her arms, maneuvering her away.

            “Bruce-“

            “Go home, Sera, right now. Don’t leave until I come back, do you understand-“

            “No, Bruce, look!”

            She pointed at Colson’s chest, and that’s when Bruce saw it.

            Duct-taped to his chest with uneven letters was an envelope:

            TO THe BaTMaN

            Outside was chaos. Bruce rushed her towards her car, reaching behind the valet’s stand to grab her keys. People were beginning to trample over one and another, and Bruce kept her close to him as he shoved his way through the crowd. Once at the car lot, he opened the door, ushering her inside.

            “Wait, Bruce, wait-“

            “No.” He pointed at the car firmly. “You need to go, Serafina, I mean it. Alfred will be waiting for you.” He looked around before lowering his voice. “Batman needs to make an appearance.”

            Sera stared at him for moment, before pushing a finger into his chest. “Don’t you dare get hurt.” She told him, voice wavering slightly. He gave her a familiar smirk and she felt her chest ache. It had been so long since she’d seen her brother smile.

            Climbing into her car, Bruce closed the door behind her and watched her drive off before leaving himself.

            And the man in the car across the lot, too far to hear their conversation, dialed a number on his phone.

            “She’s moving.”