The room was quiet and dim, only the faint glow of the moon light slipping through the curtains of Maggie's bedroom. She had finally drifted off to sleep, but her peace was short-lived. Soon, her mind plunged her back into the horrors she had endured, memories that refused to stay buried. In her nightmare, she was back in the cold, damp cell. Chains bound her wrists, and her body ached with the bruises and cuts that marred her skin. Black Mask's mocking voice echoed in her mind, each word dripping with malice has unseen hands touching parts of her body.
"No… get off me, don't," she begged in a whisper, her voice barely a tremor in the darkness. But the torment continued, the laughter, the torture, the darkness pressing in on her, hands suffocating her.
Outside the nightmare, Maggie's body tensed, her breathing quickening as she tossed and turned, lost in the nightmare's grip. Her face twisted with fear, and suddenly she let out a piercing scream, her voice filled with raw terror. The scream echoed through Wayne Manor, reaching down the hallway. Within seconds, footsteps raced toward her room, Jason was the first one there, his eyes wide with concern as he rushed to her side.
"Maggie!" he called, his voice filled with urgency. He gently shook her shoulder, trying to pull her out of the nightmare. "Maggie, wake up!
But she was still trapped in the nightmare, her breathing rapid and shallow, her fists clenched as though she were still trying to fight off her captor. "No… let go…stop…"
Jason leaned closer, his voice firm but soothing. "Mags, it's me—Jason. You're home, you're safe. Wake up."
Finally, her eyes shot open, wild and disoriented, as though she were still in that dark cell. Her gaze locked onto Jason, and for a moment, she didn't recognize him. But slowly, the terror faded from her eyes, replaced by a fragile awareness.
"Jason…" she whispered, her voice trembling as she came back to herself, her breathing still shaky.
"It's okay," he murmured, sitting on the edge of her bed and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "It was just a nightmare. You're hone, you're safe."
She pressed a hand to her mouth, fighting back tears, but they slipped through anyway, tracing silent paths down her cheeks. "I… I thought I was back there. It felt so real."
Jason held her closer, his voice steady and reassuring. "I know. But you're not there anymore."
Maggie leaned into him, taking shaky breaths as she tried to ground herself, to remember where she was. "I… I keep thinking I'm okay, but then… then it all just comes back."
Jason gently stroked her hair, letting Maggie cry on his shoulders has he holds her tight.
Bruce stood in the doorway, watching as Maggie trembled in Jason's arms, her face streaked with fresh tears, her breathing ragged and uneven. This was the fifth time in the last few weeks that her nightmares had woken the entire manor, a haunting reminder of what Black Mask had put her through. He stepped quietly into the room, his expression steady but his eyes filled with concern.
"Maggie," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.
Maggie turned to see him, a flicker of pain in her gaze as she struggled to keep her emotions in check. She wiped at her tears, taking a shaky breath, but Bruce could see the turmoil lingering beneath her fragile composure.
Sitting down on the edge of her bed, he reached out, his hand resting gently on her shoulder. "Maggie… these nightmares… they aren't just going to go away on their own," he began, his voice calm but firm. "Maybe it would help to talk about what happened. I know it's hard, but sometimes facing it, putting it into words, can help."
Maggie's face tensed, and she shook her head, looking away. "No," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I… I don't want to talk about it. I don't want to… to remember it."
Bruce leaned forward; his gaze unwavering. "I know you're trying to move past it, Maggie. But these nightmares keep coming back, and if you don't confront what happened, it will keep haunting you." His hand on her shoulder tightened slightly, grounding her. "We can help, but only if you let us."
Maggie's fingers twisted in the sheets, her whole-body rigid. "I don't… I don't want you to know," she said, her voice thick with barely restrained emotion. "What he did… what his… I just want to forget it."
Jason remained silent, his arm still around her, but his expression was pained. He could feel her tension, see the fear and shame that haunted her even now.
Bruce's voice softened; his expression compassionate but resolute. "Maggie, you're carrying this alone, and it's tearing you apart. Whatever he did, whatever you went through—"
Maggie shook her head, a tear slipping down her cheek. "I don't want to," she whispered, her voice breaking. " You don't want to know ..."
Bruce's heart ached, and he took a deep breath, steadying himself. "Maggie, you're my daughter, and there is nothing in this world that could make me think any less of you."
For a long moment, Maggie stayed silent, her gaze fixed on the floor. She wanted to believe them, wanted to trust that they wouldn't see her differently. But the memories felt raw and dark, things she couldn't imagine speaking aloud. Finally, she took a shaky breath, her voice barely a whisper.
"I can't...Please."
Bruce and Jason lingered by Maggie's bedside until she drifted back into a fitful sleep. They exchanged a silent look, both feeling the weight of helplessness. Gently, Bruce eased the door shut, and he and Jason stepped quietly into the hallway. The dim lighting cast soft shadows over their weary faces, both of them struggling with the same realization—no matter how much they wanted to help, Maggie was keeping her pain locked inside. As they moved toward the main staircase, Alfred appeared from the shadows, his expression one of quiet concern. He'd heard her cries.
"Master Bruce, Master Jason," Alfred said softly, his voice laced with gentle inquiry. "Is there anything else you need tonight?"
Bruce sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I don't know, Alfred. She won't open up about what happened. Every time we try to reach her, she just… shuts us out. I'm beginning to think nothing we say can get through to her."
Jason crossed his arms, frustration and sadness etched into his face. "It's like she feels ashamed or something."
Alfred listened quietly, his gaze thoughtful. "Perhaps, sirs, it is a need for understanding—of a sort that might feel a bit beyond us." He paused, his expression knowing as he looked directly at Bruce. "Perhaps a more familiar understanding is needed… a woman's touch."
Bruce met Alfred's gaze, recognizing the hint instantly. "You're saying I should call Selina."
Alfred gave a small, encouraging nod. "Miss Kyle has a way of understanding things that sometimes escape us, sir. Miss Maggie may find it easier to talk to someone who understands her."
Bruce thought for a moment, his mind racing through all the times Selina had helped him understand things he couldn't see on his own. And Maggie trusted her in a way that was different from how she trusted him or anyone else.
"Alright," Bruce finally said, his voice resolute. "I'll call her. If anyone can help Maggie, it might just be Selina."
Alfred smiled approvingly, a trace of relief in his gaze. "I think Miss Kyle will be more than willing to assist, sir. "
Bruce placed a hand on Alfred's shoulder, gratitude evident in his expression. "Thank you, Alfred. You're right, as always."
Alfred inclined his head, a subtle smile on his lips. "Always here to help, Master Bruce. Whatever Miss Maggie needs."
A week later, the sound of a sleek car pulling up the drive signaled Selina Kyle's arrival at Wayne Manor. Bruce glanced up from his spot in the study, his gaze thoughtful as he waited. He knew Selina would take this seriously—after all, Maggie meant as much to her as she did to anyone here. But he also knew Selina would approach things her own way. He didn't have to wait long. Selina strode into the study with her characteristic confidence, dressed in a sleek, dark coat that seemed to make her presence even more magnetic. Her eyes were as sharp as ever, though they softened when she saw Bruce waiting for her.
"Alright, Bruce," she said, slipping off her gloves and placing them on the table. "What's the story with Maggie? Your call made it sound urgent."
Bruce nodded, gesturing for her to sit. "She's been having nightmares. Severe ones. Every time we try to help her, she shuts down more, pulls away more. Jason and I, Dick, Barbara and Alfred have tried talking to her, but she won't open up. She's shutting us out."
Selina listened, her expression contemplative. "She's been through something and thinks none of you would understand," she murmured, a flicker of sadness crossing her face. "I can't say I'm surprised she's feeling like this. Sometimes, trauma like that… it makes you feel like you're the problem, like you're somehow broken."
Bruce looked at her, his gaze heavy with understanding. "That's why I called you. She needs to hear it from someone who understands."
Selina gave a soft, knowing smile. " Sometimes it takes someone who's been there." She paused, then nodded decisively. "I'll talk to her. Where is she?"
"She's in the garden," Bruce replied. "That's been her escape lately."
Selina stood, giving Bruce a reassuring nod before heading down the hallway and out into the lush, sprawling garden. She found Maggie sitting on a stone bench beneath a flowering tree, her gaze distant as she looked out over the neatly kept flowers and paths. There was a stillness about her, but it was the kind that spoke of struggle, of someone holding herself together with fragile threads.
Selina approached quietly, stopping a few feet away. "Mind if I join you?"
Maggie turned, a flicker of surprise and a touch of relief crossing her face. "Hi...I didn't know you were coming over."
Selina sat beside her, giving Maggie a small, warm smile. "You know I'd never pass up a chance to see you, kiddo."
They sat in silence for a moment, the gentle rustle of leaves filling the air. Selina let Maggie take her time, her own gaze resting thoughtfully on the garden as she waited.
Finally, Maggie broke the silence, her voice barely above a whisper. "Did… what did dad tell you?"
Selina nodded; her tone gentle. "He told me you've been having a rough time. That you're struggling to sleep, and that you've been keeping it all to yourself."
Maggie looked away, biting her lip. "I don't… I don't want them to know…"
Selina watched her for a moment, then reached out, placing a comforting hand on Maggie's arm. "You know, you don't have to share if you're not ready. But anything you tell me. Will stay between us.
After a long, quiet moment, Maggie took a deep breath, her voice barely above a whisper. "He… he did things, Selina. Things that I can't… " Her voice trembled, but she forced herself to keep going, the words pouring out as if a dam had broken. "Every time I tried to fight him or escape, he… punished me. His men would—" she hesitated, her hand trembling. "They'd beat me, and leave bruises that made it impossible to move sometimes."
Selina's expression remained calm and steady, though her hand tightened around Maggie's, grounding her, letting her know she wasn't alone.
"He'd make them watch," Maggie continued, her voice hollow as she stared at the garden, seeing only the dark, twisted cell in her mind. "And he'd… he'd laugh. Like it was all a game to him. I kept thinking, if I could just find a way to escape, maybe it would stop. But every time I tried, it got worse."
Selina's grip on her hand was warm and steady, silently urging her to keep going.
"One time, I tried to grab a guard's keys. I was so close to getting out, but they caught me." Her voice faltered, tears slipping down her cheeks. "That time, Black Mask… he didn't just punish me. He—he humiliated me, hurt me in ways I can't even describe. He wanted me to feel… hopeless. And for a while, I did."
Selina's face softened, a flicker of deep sorrow in her eyes, but she remained steady, letting Maggie speak without interruption.
Maggie's voice broke, but she pushed on, needing to let it all out. "There was this one time… one of his men, he tried— to force himself on me." She choked on the words, her free hand clutching her knee tightly. "I couldn't fight him off. I was too weak from the previous beatings."
She squeezed her eyes shut, the pain almost too much to bear, but Selina's hand on hers was a lifeline, holding her in the present. "But then, at the last moment, someone pulled him off me. Said Black Mask he needed to keep me… that I'd be worthless at auction if I am no longer intact. But the way they looked at me… it was like I was just an object."
Selina's eyes glistened with tears she held back, her grip on Maggie's hand unbreakable. "Maggie," she said softly, her voice thick with emotion, "none of that—none of what they did—makes you any less than who you are. They tried to tear you down, tried to take your strength and spirit from you, but you survived. You made it through."
Maggie let out a shaky breath, her tears streaming freely now, her voice raw. "I just… I felt so alone. And every time I look at Jason, or Dad, or anyone… I feel like they'll see me as broken or… or weak."
Selina shook her head, leaning closer, her hand never leaving Maggie's. "They'd never think that, Mags. They'd see exactly what I see—a fighter. Someone who went through hell and came out on the other side. That's not weakness. That's strength."
Maggie clung to her, allowing herself to let go of the fear and shame she'd bottled up inside. For the first time, she didn't feel like the helpless girl trapped in a dark cell.
After a few minutes, Maggie pulled back, wiping her face, a newfound strength glinting in her eyes. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice steadier.
Selina smiled, brushing a tear from Maggie's cheek.
"Now...How about later this week, we go shopping, new clothes, make up and maybe a new haircut. I'm thinking maybe something short but not too short. You would look nice with layers going slightly passed your shoulders. A new look fit for the new school year. How does that sound?"
Maggie laughed has she agreed with Selna. "That sounds normal."