Cold
She stands above the damned city… where the streets were lined with blood and people put faith in hollow words and men of stone…
She is staring at the sky. At the pale moon and the stars that watch from their lofty abode. There is snow in the air. It catches in her hair as the wind tosses it to and fro. She does not feel the cold; her thoughts darker than the night itself.
The time is near… The five months are almost up…
She was supposed to die with him…
She cannot reconcile her actions with her conscience as she had known she wouldn't be able to. Her actions have brought pain and suffering and death, even if they were to protect her loved ones.
She was supposed to die with him…
But after he had told her their plan - their true plan - after the initial panic and desperation to cling to life, even this half-life that she currently led… After she had accepted it, accepted her fate, it had been easier. Death was coming. It was coming for her, but it was coming for him too, and surely that was more important? He would 'save' Gotham by destroying it and they would be caught in the blast. The ultimate sacrifice for the good of the world; his words, not hers…
She was supposed to die with him…
But then he had changed the plan. He had said that they were going to leave, before the end came. They were going to leave and would 'save' the rest of the humanity… That meant more cities, more pain, more death… She can feel the blood on her soul already. It is drenched with it. She feels it on her skin, sees it when she closes her eyes at night, hears it in the silence…
She was supposed to die with him…
She does not think that she can bear it. He expects her to take more lives… to do this again and again and again… She is not strong enough, she cannot be… She takes a step towards the edge of the rooftop. She looks down. She used to be afraid of heights, but very little scares her now… only him. Only ever him… and what he could do. She knows that she cannot take her life. If she does then he will most-assuredly find her family, her friends… But she looks down anyway and idly wonders if he will keep her around if she breaks her legs…
She was supposed to die with him…
The sound weaves its way subtly into her consciousness. So subtly in fact, that one minute there is silence and she is alone. And the next there is sound and she knows that he is there. Her breath holds itself in, then releases itself with a whoosh as her lungs remember how to work through fear.
He comes to stand behind her, his mechanical breathing steady, hollow. She doesn't turn around.
"It is cold out here," he says eventually.
"Is it?" she answers.
He puts his hands on her shoulders and she feels their warmth through her layers of clothing. It strikes her as odd that she only now starts to feel the chill.
"Why are you here, child?" he asks, deceptively gentle. Well, gentle for him at least.
"I was looking at the sky," she replies honestly. He prefers honesty.
"No you weren't. You were looking at the ground." She'd forgotten that bit.
The cold eats its way into her bones… What to say, what to say…
"I wasn't going to do anything," she assures him.
"I know," he says and strokes his hand over the loose waves of her hair. "Because you will not put your life before another's." She wonders why he sounds smug.
"How-" she licks her chapped lips and tries again. "How many cities will there be… after this one?" How many will there be? How many lives will we – yes, we – take?
His hand stills on her hair. She imagines he wasn't expecting that question. His hand slides round, slowly, until it rests around her neck, her fragile pulse leaping against the skin of his palm. Through the pounding of her heart in her ears, she hears him,
"Do you think you will break?" His fingers tighten ever so slightly, "Do you fear your soul will not bear it? All that we have to do together?" And if she thought her heart was straining before, it feels like murder now. All that we have to do together…
She looks to the night sky again and wonders if there is a god up there… for she knows that there is a devil down here…
He applies pressure and forces her to step back, to stumble back into his hard chest. Once she is there - away from the edge, she notices - the pressure on her neck eases, slightly, but his hand remains. She holds herself like taut wire… wire to bend, or break, at his will. How on earth did her life come to this?
"You will not break, my child. I told you I would make you strong, and I will make you stronger still. Your burden will not crush you, and if does…" Will you kill me, she wonders, not wanting to know which answer she truly desires… "I will remake you." Another promise, another threat; he cannot seem to distinguish the two, or maybe it is her who cannot…
She was supposed to die with him…
They stay like that for some time. Despite her efforts though, she cannot hold back the trembling of her body, the reaction revealing just how cold she really is... now. He takes her by the arm,
"Time to go inside," he says, and leads her away from the sky, away from the freedom of the cold…
*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*
For those of you following these drabbles this one is set after 'Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea' but before 'Retribution' (obviously).
I must admit I am very tempted to turn these drabbles into a multi-chaptered fic – the story just won't leave me alone! But at the same I'm wary of starting something that I'm not certain I can finish because I know it's not fair to the readers or to myself. I'm also not entirely sure how I would finish it which never bodes well for a fic…
Oh well! I hope some of you enjoyed this drabble at least :) Many thanks for reading and have a good day everyone!