I mean, meow?

Problems on problems

... You promised me...

... You promised not to die...!

... You promised me!!!

... Don't die...

- NO! ...

...

...

...

"W-what... What was that..."

The look out of the darkness, recently she listened to the screams, now she waits for her sight to return. But she's very tired. It's dark in here.

"I'm back...?"

She was still in that boy's room. It's noon on the clock. He's still learning, he must be.
It wasn't very difficult to get up, but noticing her position, she had to grab the bedclothes off the bed to go to the mirror.
Everything seemed to be as it should be. Arms, legs, hair, human ears, mouth.

But the weakness did not recede.
She had to figure out what to do now. Her head was starting to hurt, maybe she hadn't had enough sleep. Trying to reach the table, she involuntarily threw the sheet off her to the floor.

When she reached the desk, she found a few writing utensils, but not a single blank piece of paper. Only the boy's business papers. Not wanting to spoil anything, she gathered the last few of her strength to create a small piece of paper and, using the pencils she found, tried to leave a message. "Help me."

Tears came to her eyes. She could not express her thoughts too well now. All she could say for sure was that she needed help. She had neither the strength nor the time to describe the situation in detail.

That darkness was coming back into her head again, leaving an extra pencil stroke on the sheet, she could no longer stand on her feet. It's hard.

...

"I'm home."
After locking the door, Damian went straight to his room, or rather, he wanted to go there.

"I'm glad you're home so early, I have to talk to you." Selina had just recently fed and put Helena to bed, so she was free for a "motherly" conversation.

The teen exhaled irritably, though he tried to hide the irritation.

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

"I wish there was. I'd like to clarify, you do remember our rules about the house, don't you?"

He raised an eyebrow.
"The only one more responsible than me in this house is Alfred. And perhaps Father."

"So I suppose they know about your new pet, at least, don't they?"

Damian frowned as he looked at his foster mother.

"You went through my room?"

"I wasn't going through your room. I would never violate your privacy--"

"Exactly, it's private."

".. Yes. But I only went in there because I heard the sound of a sick cat."

The irritation on the teenager's face was gone; he wasn't happy about anyone entering his private room, even if it was a "family member," but Selina's motive was justified.

"Is she okay?"

"The cat is fine. I gave her some sedatives and some food. But, please," she walked over to the teenager and put her hand on his shoulder, too maternally. "You can at least tell someone about these things. You're lucky I'm an expert on cats, because if I wasn't, no one else would have been able to give her the right medicine."