Title: Smoke
Characters: Selina Kyle, Holly Robinson
Summary: Waiting for sun-up.
Warning: Contains sad ideas.
Spoilers: None, unless you haven't read Her Sister's Keeper.

Approximately ten years ago...

Selina jammed the burning stub of her cigarette onto a roach that attempted to scramble across the windowsill. She imagined the barely audible squeal of escaping steam was its death shriek.

Then she heard the the doorknob rattle, followed by Holly's plaintive, "Let me in."

She rose from the crappy wooden chair to unbolt the door. While the deadbolt wouldn't stop a guy from smashing through the hollow door, the process would make a hell of a lot more noise than picking a key-lock. "It's late."

Holly pushed back her permed orange hair, rolled her eyes, shrugged sarcastically, "Um, yeah. Like, I was working?" She pushed past, throwing off bangles onto a nicked dresser table. "Geez, you're worse than my mother."

Selina closed the door, taking a breath to remind herself that she hadn't lived in an apartment at age thirteen. She'd been on the streets, hiding under shredded newspapers, or tucked into a nook too small for an adult. Sure, she'd dragged Holly off the streets in some half-witted attempt to save her, but the girl could make her own decisions."You could have called me. I would have come -"

"Drop it." Holly pulled at her hair, already tangled hopelessly by the summer humidity. "I'm tired, it's fucking late and I don't want any fucking lectures." She stopped abruptly, her face wan, licked her lips and turned away. "Sorry."

Selina didn't bother asking stupid questions like, 'Rough night?' She didn't try and offer a hug or pat Holly on the shoulder. Those were stupid shitty things and they all went through this anyway. She noticed, instead, that Holly was hunched over a bit and her eyes, normally wide as a kitten's, were squinted with tension. She calculated the days, but Holly wasn't on her period. "Aspirin?"

"As if. Won't work." Holly shuffled into the bathroom to shower and change.

Funny, that kind of modesty but Selina never challenged it. Asking might lead to further questions like, 'Why do you always stare at me when you think I'm not paying attention? Why do you flinch if I touch you?' It was best not to complicate life like that, especially not with a kid. Even if no one else gave a flying damn that she was a kid. Even if Selina had been her once.

She tried not to think, while listening to the shower, but there were no people screaming at each other paper-thin walls, no traffic or sirens, no nothing. It was difficult to avoid in the near silence of pre-dawn. She told herself there was no point in obsessing over problems that cops, social workers, politicians, Ted, Sensei or Batman couldn't fix. All the same, she had to bite her lip to resisting asking Holly to quit, to say she could help.

The water cut off and a few minutes later, Holly straggled into the room, heading straight for her stash. Selina fidgeted with her sleeve as Holly rolled a joint, then gave in to the urge to light another cigarette. There was a way to fix this but she would need a heap of money fast. That was something she could do real well, but if she stole again, she wouldn't quit over getting shot. It would be a commitment, forever, because she was legally an adult, her actions never wiped away by juvenile records. It wouldn't be a few bucks here and there or the occasional trinket. It would be her entire life.

She inhaled, holding her breath. "If you need to go to the Clinic-"

"I'm fine. Just bruised." Holly wandered over to lean against the wall, glancing briefly out the window. "It's still dark. You gonna wait?"

Selina pretended not to notice that Holly wasn't staring out the window. "Sun comin' up is the only good part, kiddo." She heard the shrug, scrape of fabric against rough painted walls.

"Whatever."