A/N: A one-shot for you bane/talia lovers. Enjoy
Debt
Written by theleague-ofshadows
The pain in her knuckles, how did it grow? The cramping didn't fade as she walked into the warm courthouse. It was ruined. Marred. The man behind her dragged her by her elbow. The façade was established practically centuries ago. How could it feel this long?
The steps were dusty, possibly due to the ruins being brought in from the outside. Gotham was a playground for the ones who wished to destroy. It was paradise.
The sunlight came in through the windows above, slowly fading with the setting sun.
The bruising grip was convincing. She kept her startled, wide-eyed doe play up to date as they made their way into the room where the occupants were shouting for justice. A justice that only they saw fair. Commissioner Gordon was being escorted to the front of the room along with at least five other men.
Breathing fast, she browsed her surroundings, looking. She saw the beige, red, black and white colors of coats. She glanced at the guns in their hands. She saw their faces. The jury. The convicted.
The man in the corner, towering over the rest. His mass was a factor to his unapproachable appearance, yet she only saw the dedication in his stance. He watched her. He looked right into her bones, right past the tempest. His face was hard, like marble. She tried to pry her eyes away from him.
Luckily, she was successful.
It was painful, breathing in the fear.
Then she glanced up at the man behind the desk, holding the gavel with a sadistic smile plastered on his face.
Crane.
His specialty consisted of preying on the warmth of a good man's heart. Such a shame, she had the same passion. She saw no fear in the Commissioner's stance as he was being told to choose his fate. The ice was getting thinner; perhaps he should hurry up and make his mind.
"If you think we're going to walk out onto that ice willingly, you've got another thing coming." He spoke bravely.
Crane's face grew annoyed. "So, death then?" She could tell he didn't like to be challenged. He owned the room; he didn't like to be defied.
Gordon shrugged his shoulders, turning his head to the side to glance at the men surrounding him. "Looks that way."
Crane's annoyance faded as he summed up his answer. His lips turned into a foul smirk as he narrowed his blue eyes. He nodded, raising his eyebrows.
"Death…." He announced loudly. "…..by exile!"
The room erupted with loud accusations and excited cheers. She looked at Crane who shifted his glance to her. The head of the snake would be cut off. Now all they needed to do was destroy the body. Gordon and the other men found themselves trapped between a gun to their backs and the bite of the cold Gotham wind outside. But Crane rounded them up in the other group of men and women found guilty, making them count the seconds before their deaths.
Suddenly, she was being pulled along with them to add measure to the façade when the voice like the devil, so sinfully sweet, came from behind her.
"Bring her to me."
The hollow pit in her stomach quenched for the thirst of a sense of ease. Who could dare deny it now? The sun would set and another day would come closer to doomsday. And then the people would burn. She would make sure of it. She knew her fate, that and the rest of the people's in the room. How disastrous the outcome would be. Gotham would be no more than a callous on the maps.
She felt the greed her father bestowed onto her. The righteous plan that would bring peace back to the world. Does the dog deny the bone that is handed to him?
The plan was soon to be fulfilled. She would then rest peacefully, her bones growing cold in the dirt with the rest of the citizens who chose their fate. No grave stone. Nothing to claim her name.
His mask hid half of his face, and therefore half of his emotions. How could she tell what he was feeling? And why was he still here? What kept him so loyal?
He grabbed her elbow and pulled her out of the court room, they would survey no more justice today. He led her by something less than force down the stairs to a chamber below the public eye. The people around them looked in horror. They were sure the brute would have his way with the innocent beauty. They were positive he would make her fate worse than those out on the frozen water.
Yet they didn't know that it was she who kept his fate. It was she who held him in the palm of her hand.
The flex of his fingers was indication that they were almost there. The men surrounding them fled the halls. None of them wishing to get within the bad graces of such company.
He reached the room, her only being a few steps behind. Once he opened the door, she was able to calm the muscles in her face. Nothing left to act. She didn't need to pretend anymore. They were alone.
He walked over to the windows and pulled the shades down to hide them from the outside.
She pulled her coat off as she eased her way further into the room.
Keeping her back to him, she walked over to the glasses and poured herself an ounce of Gin. Her hair was in waves, hiding her face, as she turned to give him a reassuring look before taking a sip of the alcohol, having no desire for the taste, but enjoying the relaxing affect it acquired.
"We don't have much time left."
He didn't ask. He knew. Everyone knew. The bomb would detonate and Gotham would be flattened in only a matter of days. It was an atom bomb of course, it would vaporize the city in a matter of seconds.
She walked past the sofa, fingering the soft material and admiring the feel under the pads of her fingers. She slipped her flats off and rubbed her ankle as she fit her body more comfortably into the crevice of the couch. Her feet were disgusting, result of the hours out on the streets.
Closing her eyes and exhaling, she muttered. "I'm afraid so."
She sat like that for a while, letting the reality sink in for what had to be the thousandth time. She did not fear death. She had no doubts about her destination after it.
She feared something else entirely.
Her eyelids opened slowly in hopes that she could eliminate her surroundings in the hopes that she could transport herself elsewhere, someplace safe. Somewhere she felt at home, perhaps. Anywhere besides this ghastly building filled with nothing but her sorrow.
She turned her gaze up to him and gave him a small smile before she pat the empty space next to her on the sofa. He looked back at her, yet he shook his head. He left towards the bathroom, his massive body taking it's time. He returned with a rolled up cloth, obviously damp. Instead of sitting next to her he found his body on the ground next to her feet.
He kept his eyes on her as he picked up her petite left leg and held it daintily in his hand. Pushing the jeans a little higher up so he could see the dirt on her legs, he swiped the cloth from her calf to the sensitive spot on her ankle. She watched him cleansing her. She never realized before just how much he did for her. The little things he noticed. Either he conceived a phobia for germs or he genuinely wished to help her, she couldn't tell. The day was long and along the way she had gotten dirty (that was due to the fact that she was wearing only flats which didn't keep out the dust and debris), but she never felt as dirty as she did now.
The guilt was hard in her throat.
He shifted his gaze to focus on her heel. Soon the foot was clean and he had started on the other.
"Do you remember the ten days in February we spent on the beach?" She leaned forward and propped elbows on her knees, her chin in her palms. She couldn't think of much to say while his hands were wrapped around her legs. She wanted to thank him. Perhaps later, but for now she couldn't sum up the right grateful response.
So instead, she settled for reminiscing. She didn't have a lot of time left anyway.
He looked up at her and she could swear he was smiling under his mask, no doubt it would be painful, but he made it genuine. "Of course. I had to teach you to stay afloat. Such a surprise considering the last thing I imagined you were incapable of was swimming." His fingers curled under the cloth, swiping the cloth down her leg until she had no dirt remaining.
She smiled, feeling her cheeks flex in her hands. "That was after my father excommunicated you. I followed you like a moth to a radiant beam of light." She closed her eyes and let her breath out once more. "I told you I would always follow you."
"You shouldn't have left your father." His voice hollow.
"I had every reason to leave my father!" She protested, opening her eyes and standing up. Bane looked up at her.
She didn't know the reason behind her temper. She walked out of his reach and over to the table.
"How can you say that?" His voice confused. "Why are you here then? You are finishing what he started. Why would you leave...everything behind you?"
"I am unsure, I always have been. I made you a promise. I would always follow you, even if it was into the dark." She turned around and leaned against the table, crossing her arms.
"You never promised me that." He objected. Crossing the room, he stood three feet away from her, trying to search her face.
"I might as well have!" She almost screamed. She turned her head away from him trying to look anywhere but where he was. "I told you that day on the beach when you asked why I had come. We are bonded. No matter my motives, I cannot stay away."
His eyes were glazed with unreadable emotion. He stared at her as she found a perturbed interest in the patterns of the rug.
"I want you to leave me, now." She swallowed, terrified. "I want you to leave this city. Take your things and leave this hell. I can carry on from here."
He looked up at her, not frowning, yet obviously surprised. "Have I disappointed you?"
She shook her head furiously. "No, you have done complementary. I have no need for you anymore."
He straightened his back. "You are asking me to vanish in this time of need?"
"I told you I had it handled. I am capable of completing the task." She picked up her glass once more and swallowed the remains before she made her way over to the windows, peeking out of the blinds.
"You have created enough fire, my friend, it is time that I round up the ashes." She let the words roll off of her tongue. He easily crept over to stand behind her. His stealth not enough to fool her.
"I expect you gone by sunrise."
"You know I will not obey you." His voice like sending knives scraping the sides of her throat. She knew this would be hard. She knew he would refuse. That didn't mean she didn't know it would hurt.
"I have command over you. I am their leader." She turned to face him and indicated to the men outside of the room. "I can make you leave."
"Why do you insist on me resigning?" He still didn't frown.
"I told you, I don't need-"
"Tell me the real reason." He tried his hardest not to spit out.
"That is the real reason!"
"Stop this now!" He closed the space in between them and now he was gripping her shoulders roughly, shaking her.
"Take your hands off of me!"
"Tell me!"
"I WANT YOU GONE BECAUSE I CAN'T STAND THE THOUGHT OF YOUR BONES STUCK IN THE DIRT WITH THE REST OF THESE COWARDS!" She furiously thrashed in his arms. "Don't let me watch you die."
He quickly released his grip on her, his eyes wide with shock. Their words still rang in the air. She exhaled, annoyed. The tears were present on her face now, making her look even more desperate.
"I am twenty-seven years old; I have not seen much except hell and the demons roaming it. You have lived longer, my friend." She turned around, her back haunting him. "Leave this place. Find a cause elsewhere and find the will to live. Live happily. Go away from here and never look back. Don't choose my life."
She felt the tremors in her chest starting to erupt, she needed him to leave before she fell apart.
"That's why I am ordering you to leave."
"Leaving will not change-"
Her hand stung as the impact to his face made a shrill noise throughout the room.
"GET OUT NOW!" She screamed, the pain tainting her tone. She let the tears fall, not giving a damn about her appearance. Her red eyes stung as she gritted her teeth and glared at him. "I DON'T EVER WANT YOU TO COME BACK! LEAVE! LEA-"
She couldn't finish because she was encased in arms. The only safety she ever knew.
She was sobbing then. Her body and soul was not a factor of the emotion, it was all for him. She only ever wanted what was best for him. This was nothing he ever deserved. She wailed as he tightened his arms, wrapping her in the strength he could provide.
Her heart was being pierced with the sorrow she felt. She couldn't help the cry that escaped her lips. She never expressed emotion in such a way. She never fully realized the effect he had on her. She never grasped how much he meant to her.
Not until now, when her tiny hands were clawing the material of his coat. Clinging onto the seams that could break at any minute from the force of her grip.
"Don't die with me." She gasped out. "Please leave."
Her arms were wrapped around his waist, yet even then he was practically holding her up.
"Do not fear for my fate, dear one." His mask making his tone sound assuring.
"I always worry about you." She admitted.
He chuckled. "There is no need." He loosened his grip.
She pulled her head back to stare at him. His arms did not let her free, yet they didn't keep her trapped to his chest. She wasn't even sure she blinked the entire time she stared at him. He spoke to her in silent tones, his emotions telling their tales with his eyes. She felt the throbbing need to touch him.
"Why won't you leave?
He looked down, trying to find something to focus on, but she felt his heartbeat under hers. She looked further. She noticed his veins, evident in the dim light.
Nothing could have surprised her more than the emotion she caught playing across his face. Her stomach clenched. The ice racing through her veins. How could she not know? How could she be so ignorant? It wasn't his devotion to her father's cause that kept him.
It was something else entirely.
She brought her fingers back from around him to place them on the sides of his face. Her favorite part of him. The one that made her laugh. The one thing she would always remember. He turned his eyes back to her and he confirmed her suspicions.
She felt the delicious flutter in her stomach, the tempting fire playing coyly with her emotions.
The cycle started a long time ago. The debt. He owed her just as much as she owed him. They would always be owing one another. Whether that was of the heart or the mind. She needed to give him her heart, she needed to owe him this time.
So she settled for the next best thing.
Leaning forward, she placed an electrified kiss just below his eye. She found his weak spot and drilled into it mercilessly. She was delicate, the kiss nothing more than a feather grazing the cheek, but it still stung after she removed her lips from under his eye and placed them in a delicious spot just below the jaw. He closed his eyes and brought his hand up to her face. She pulled back and barely smiled at him. She knew now. She guessed she always knew.
She just never realized how strongly she felt towards his emotions. How much she wanted to cling to them.
His heartbeat was rapid now. She felt his fingers doing wonders to the sides of her neck.
"We don't have much time left." She muttered. The voice words felt right. She knew.
He exhaled. "I'm afraid so."
Then she smiled, no longer afraid. She still hated the thought of him rotten and charred, side effects of the bomb, but she knew that he loved her.
She ran her fingernails softly across his cheek, holding onto him for another desperate second.
The dawn would come. Inevitably. She couldn't stop it.
She could say the same about her heartbeat.
