"That'll be a dollar," the cashier said.
"Here," Selina murmured, fishing a crumpled bill from her pocket and placing it on the counter.
"You traveling with your dad?" the shopkeeper asked, glancing toward the truck idling by the gas station.
"Yes," she lied softly, nodding before stepping out into the dry wind.
She held the small bottle of strawberry-flavored milk in both hands, it felt quite cold against her palms. Adjusting the backpack on her shoulders, she glanced toward the truck — the driver was still chatting with someone by the pumps.
Without a word, she climbed into the back, settling down beside the stacked crates and boxes of cargo. The truck smelled faintly of oil and dust.
She unscrewed the cap and took a sip. The milk was too sweet, excessively so, but it was cold — and that was enough. Her green eyes drifted to the long road stretching behind her, fading into the horizon. She sighed, lowering her gaze to the bottle.
"Didn't you buy one for me?"
Selina flinched, startled, spinning toward the voice.
"Clark—? What are you doing here?" she stammered, her eyes wide.
"You're sitting in the back of a truck leaving Smallville," I said evenly. "You've got a backpack full of clothes, personal papers, and that wallet stuffed with cash from that night. So you tell me — what are you doing, Selina?"
She looked away, jaw tightening. "Didn't you read my letter?"
"I did," I said, my voice calm, steady. "That's why I'm here — to ask you why you're doing this."
"I already explained everything in that letter," she muttered. "So I don't have anything else to say."
"You wrote that it would be best for the family if you went back to where you came from — that you didn't belong here, that you were grateful for everything we had done, and that you would somehow repay us in the future," I said, pulling the crumpled letter from my pocket. "Is that the bullshit you're talking about?"
"It's not bullshit!" Selina snapped, her voice sharp but shaking. "I wrote it from the heart, okay? I even checked for spelling mistakes—" she muttered under her breath.
"It was bullshit," I shot back. "Every reason in it was bullshit."
"Stop saying 'shit' so much," she mumbled, glaring at me but refusing to meet my eyes.
"It's a good thing I found your letter first," I said, my tone hardening. "What if Ma had read it, huh? What do you think she would feel — not even a week after losing her husband — finding out that her daughter wants to run away because she 'doesn't belong'?"
Selina's grip on the cold milk bottle tightened. "I–it's not like that…" she whispered.
"It would've broken her heart," I said quietly, but firmly. "She's strong, yeah, but that doesn't mean you get to test her like this, Selina. There's only so much a person can lose."
"N-no, I didn't want to hurt her," she stammered, her eyes glistening. "That's not what I—"
"Then what is it?" I pressed, inching closer. "Tell me. Tell me why you want to leave your home — the one place where people actually love you and want you there."
Her shoulders trembled. "C-can you please just go?" she whispered. "Please, Clark… just leave me alone." A soft sniffle escaped her lips.
"No," I said flatly, though my chest ached at the sight of her tears. "Not unless you come back home with me and apologize to Ma first."
"I… I can't," she muttered quietly, her gaze fixed on the ground.
I let out a long sigh and looked up at the clear sky. "What did you even think would happen when Ma read that letter? She would have been worried sick. She would've taken the car and gone out on the road to find you — and she wouldn't have rested until she knew you were safe."
"I… I just thought…" she said weakly, her voice trembling.
"What?" I asked, frustration creeping into my tone. "That we would be happy you were gone? That Ma would just let her daughter walk away — out there all alone? And what about me, huh? Did you think I would just read your letter and go, 'Oh, she wants to leave, that's cool'?"
"W-why do you care so much?" she snapped suddenly, looking up at me with tear-filled green eyes. "I'm just some street cat you picked up on the way! I'm not related to you or her — she's not my real mother, and you're not my real brother! So why do you want me to stay so bad? Just let me go!" She muttered as tears rolled down her face.
"Your blood — your origins — they don't matter," I said firmly. "Ma and Pa found me by the side of the road too, remember? But in their eyes, in Ma's eyes, I'm just as much their son as you are their daughter." I stared directly into her eyes, "So listen carefully: whether you call yourself Selina Kyle, Selina Kent, or even a stray cat — you're family. You will always be family."
"Snifff…" She broke down leaving the bottle on the ground as she weeped in her palms, shaking.
"Alright, alright… why are you crying now?" I said softly, pulling her into my arms. I held her close, rubbing her back in slow circles until her shaking eased and my shirt was soaked through with tears.
"H-how… sniff… how did you even find me?" she asked quietly, her head resting against my chest.
"I've memorized your heartbeat," I said with mock seriousness. "Even if you ran to the ends of the earth, I could still find you. You can never escape me!" I added with an exaggerated villain laugh.
"Sniff… now that's bullshit," she said, half-laughing through the tears as she pulled away, a small smile breaking through.
"If you've calmed down," I said softly, wiping away the last of her tears, "will you tell me what's going on in that pretty head of yours?" Her fair face was red from crying, eyes puffy and glistening. "I've got a lot of powers, Selina," I added gently, "but mind-reading isn't one of them. So please — use your words. Because right now, I just can't understand why you're doing this."
"I… I'm like a black cat, Clark," she whispered, still staring down at her hands.
I blinked, raising an eyebrow. For a second, my brain short-circuited. Wait — black cat? Did I somehow end up in the Marvel universe? I bit back a snort. You're Catwoman, Selina. Wrong franchise.
"Wherever I go, misfortune follows," she continued, clutching the fabric of my shirt in her small hands. "It has always been that way. First my mother took her own life… then my father drank himself to death. I thought if I stayed near my sister at the orphanage, something bad would happen to her too, so I left. And when you asked me to come with you — to start a new life — I was scared. I thought I would curse you too. But then I-I realised that you, you were not a normal boy… you could even stop bullets with your hands." Her voice cracked. "And I thought — maybe nothing could ever hurt you, so it wouldn't be bad to go with you."
I said nothing, letting her words spill out, each one heavier than the last.
"But I was wrong," she went on, her voice breaking. "People around you got hurt instead. Lana, the friend I made in school — she lost her father. Then… then even Pa…" Her fingers trembled against me. "The family that took me in so kindly — they're broken now. All because they took in a cursed child like me." She pressed her head against my chest, sobbing quietly. "Y-you should've never brought me home, Clark. Don't you know? Nothing good comes from crossing paths with a black cat."
I exhaled slowly, her heavy emotions washing over me. "So that's it, huh? You were going to run away to protect us?" I asked gently. "Leave Ma and me behind so your 'curse' doesn't reach us?"
Her silence was answer enough.
"Let me guess — you want to go back to Gotham?" I said, raising an eyebrow. "What then? Become a thief again? Maybe join a gang and bring them bad luck instead?"
"This isn't funny, Clark," she snapped, her wet eyes flashing with hurt. "I'm serious. Bad things happen to everyone around me — and it's not coincidence. I'm not making this up!" She pulled away slightly, wiping her face with the back of her hand. "And I survived as a thief just fine before I met you. I can do it again."
"Alright," I said, tilting my head at her, "so this misfortune of yours — what exactly do you think it is? Black magic? A curse?"
"Wh-what?" she blinked, confused.
"This misfortune debuff that has apparently been applied to you," I said with mock seriousness, "What's its source?"
"I… I don't know," she stammered. "Why does that even matter?"
"It does matter, Selina," I said, leaning forward a little. "Because if it's really a curse or some kind of dark magic, then we can go to a magician — a real one — and get it removed. Problem solved." I smiled faintly. "There's this guy named Zatara, right? Pretty famous magician. I'm sure he could turn you from a black cat into a white one with a snap of his fingers."
She looked down, her expression torn. "B-but that's not—"
"Selina," I said gently, cutting her off, "I'm not going to just sit here and watch you drown in this spiral of self-blame. If it is something mystical, we'll fix it. If it's not — if it's just the ghosts of your past eating at you — then I'll fight them with you. Together." I reached up and brushed my hand softly through her hair.
Her breath hitched. "Why… why are you so good to me, Clark?" she whispered. "I-I've done nothing but bring you bad luck. I'm just… a worthless, abandoned street cat. Why can't you just leave me to my fate? I'm nothing to y—"
As she was about to speak even more I leaned down and shut her mouth by pressing my lips to hers.
Her eyes widened, but I softly kissed her lips while keeping my eyes closed. Her own closed soon as she awkwardly responded to me.
I broke the kiss and looked at her face as she opened her green eyes shyly.
"You are not nothing to me, Selina," I said quietly, my thumb brushing against her pink lips. "You matter — to me, to Ma, to this family. Whether you like it or not, you're a part of us now. And we'll keep loving you no matter what. The only thing you have to do… is let us."
"Clark…" Her breathing was heavy as she leaned in and kissed my lips again.
"Hey, if your boyfriend's hitching a ride too, it'll cost extra," the truck driver called out looking up at us.
Selina hurriedly broke the kiss blushing.
"Don't worry, I'm just leaving," I said with a faint smile as Selina hid her face against my chest.
The truck driver muttered something under his breath, shaking his head. "Kids these days… no shame. Should be in school, not pulling stunts like this."
I looked down at Selina, knowing that dragging her back by force right now would only make things worse.
"Selina," I said gently, brushing a strand of hair from her face, "I'll call Alfred and let him know you're coming. You can stay at Wayne Manor for a few days — clear your head, breathe a little. Ma will understand. And if, after that, you still want to… 'cleanse' yourself, then we'll figure that out together."
She didn't say anything, just nodded quietly, her shoulders trembling slightly.
"But remember this," I added, resting my hand on her back. "Even if this cat wanders the whole world, she'll always have a room waiting for her in the Kent house." I leaned down and pressed a small kiss to the top of her head.
She gave a soft hum in response, still avoiding my gaze.
"Also," I said with a grin, "don't think this means you get to skip homework. You left all your books in your room, and I plan to personally deliver them to you. I'll even tell your teacher you're on sick leave—though you'll have to make up every assignment when you're back."
Her head shot up instantly. "Wh—what? No, please don't!" she groaned. "My brain hurts just thinking about those math equations and those old, boring poems. Can't you just… do it for me? Please? I-I'll even give you another kiss—"
"Nope," I said quickly, smirking. "I'm not that easy. You tried to leave without telling anyone, and this—" I tapped her nose "—is your punishment. And when you come back, you're going to apologize to Ma yourself."
Her face fell. "…Yes."
"Do you regret leaving now?" I asked softly.
"…Yes," she whispered, lowering her head against my chest.
"Then come home soon, alright?" I said, pulling her into a hug.
"I will," she murmured, her voice muffled against my shirt.
The truck started up again, the engine rumbling to life. I stepped back and watched as it rolled down the dusty road, waving until she couldn't see me anymore.
Still, I didn't turn back right away. I followed them from a distance — keeping an eye on the truck, unseen, until it crossed into Gotham. I only stopped once I saw her step safely out and take a taxi toward Wayne Manor.
By the time Alfred greeted her at the gate, I had already broken up a mugging downtown.
As I turned back toward Smallville, I sighed, the wind rushing past me.
Now came the hardest part — explaining all of this to Ma.