An Explanation

Quite honestly, i was very unwilling to post this writing at first. I was uncomfortable with it and considered myself hardly skilled enough to attempt something of this scale.

She Rises was a fanfiction i read as a young girl and i didn't realize the significant impact it would have on my life until i read it later as an adult. It's a story of truth, of humanity, of faith in that humanity, and hope. It's the story of a girl who not only is broken, but remade in herself to be stronger. I can easily say Kathryn Sherman taught me how to get over the horrible things that had happened to me. She helped me to forgive the people who had taken that piece of me.

She taught me everyone is redeemable.

I wrote an email out to Paradisical815, asking if i could post this particular "alternate ending" (as it is surely not the ending she had planned and even if the true ending is never shared with the FF community, mine will never, ever be the true She Rises conclusion,) I asked her if i could post this. I of course was not even sure it was her i was sending it too. I sent three emails to possible Paradisicals, two of my attempts were sent to me with failure notices. The email was no longer in use. The one that went through was either never read or never received.

I looked her up on facebook after that and found four Kathryn's that might be the right Sherman, and that's when i stopped. I sent the messages, but didn't expect a reply. I almost didn't want them. I've had someone send me messages out of the blue, had someone look for me.

I didn't like it. The idea that i might make her more uncomfortable by looking for her made me stop and rethink what i was doing. I decided i was done searching for Katty. I even considered that of course, she had used a fake name, how silly of me. But either way i refuse to keep looking for the original writer.

If by some chance she comes across this story this is the message i sent to her...

Hello,
My name is Ravin, i realize this is probably totally weird to get an email out of the blue like this and i apologize for the randomness.

So, I'll explain myself.

Firstly i would like to disclaimer that i am not trying to bring up the past and don't want any trouble. If you want me to drop this subject and never ever bring it up again by all means tell me to bugger off and throw this message away and pretend You never saw it.

The subject is some of your fanfiction from forever and ever and ever ago.
She Rises was the title and it was an amazing piece.

I'm a huge fan of Batman, but even more so of the message your fanfiction conveyed to my younger self. It was special to me and my own "golden trio". My trio and i were always writing ourselves into stories just like you and your friends had and it was so enlightening to find something akin to ours.
Needless to say Katty of Gotham became a favorite headcanon character of ours and we got your new chapters and read them together and by the end, chapter 29, we were freakin out. (You know how to build a story! Damn!)
But life went on and we realized there probably wouldn't be anymore chapters, and the chapters of our own lives kept us busy.

My "golden" friend, (or sisters as i called them, since i never had a real sister,) for her birthday one year asked that us other two of the trio didn't buy her anything, and instead wrote her something.
She said she didn't care what it was and we took on the task.

I went through several of our favorite unfinished fanfictions, phantom of the opera, various animes, greek myths and i finally settled on She Rises.

I wrote a couple chapters for her, finished the story in my own way and she was delighted.

Only today, on the anniversary of TDKR being released in theaters, i pulled out my old brick of a laptop and looked at the writing.

I don't know if it carried the story.
I tried too.
Getting Bane right, trying to understand Kathryn, You, and keep the morals correct. A reminder that humanity no matter how bad is redeemable. But it's not perfect, it couldn't be since I'm not You.

So, the reason i am writing You today, is to ask if i could possibly post those chapters on FF as a sort of.. "alternate ending" with your approval. Something for the fanbase to have if that's alright with You?

Seeing as all fanfiction etiquette says my knockoff chapters shouldn't even exist. It's a self insert, the big "no no" of touching someone else's work and i realize that and I'm sorry if this is horribly offensive to read. We meant no harm and i hope You don't think ill of us.

With hopes of a reply,
- Ravin H.

I am hoping that if she ever finds this alternative ending she finds it enlightening. Or at least doesn't hate it.

I am not a good writer, not in comparison to her, and i hope that it is acceptable to her… I am praying she doesn't think i am a horrible person for writing this…

I hope she is off living a wonderful life and that she knows she's impacted people with her story. Given them faith in humanity and courage to stand up to their fears, and the banes of their existences.

Now... If Paradisiacal ever contacted me and asked me to take this alternative ending down i would do so without question. This is not my story.

She is the creator of this story and i do not claim to own anything. This is a fanfiction of a fanfiction.

I do not own Kathryn Sherman or the Golden Four characters.

(although i have a feeling if they are based off of real people, no one could ever begin to own them.)

I do not own Batman or any of the characters associated with D.C Comics or the Christopher Nolan Trilogy.

Happy Dark Knight Rising release anniversary everyone!

Also shoutout to all of the fans who have reawakened for the Inception anniversary as well!

Love you all!

Thank you for reading.

Ravin.

PS: (edited 7/28/2018)

If you haven't read the original story, please don't read this one. It will not make sense and you will be terribly disappointed with yourself if you read this then go to the original. As Lemony Snicket would say, run away, just go, don't read this. But, i am going to add you're welcome to come back once you have read the past 29, beautifully written, super interesting chapters of "She Rises"

Chapter 30, 18 Days

Featured Song: "Decision", by Josh Garrels

Bane left early that morning before Katty awoke, but she opened her tiny curtained area of the apartment relieved not to see him, and instead only His mask was still untouched on the table. It stared at her and she for some time stared back.

She had awoken earlier, quite suddenly and with the thought of his face crossing her mind. She had quickly went over all the ways to avoid looking at him as she sat wearily on the edge of her cot.

Maybe Bane had the mask fixed and back on, maybe it would all be back to normal and she wouldn't have to worry about his smile matching the wrinkles under his eyes, or the way his lips moved when he spoke.

But there the mask lay, and she was alone despite all her fussing. He must be enjoying his new found freedom she figured and finally turned away from the broken mask. She needed coffee.

Her hands moved automatically as she mixed her drink into the mug and she did her best to ignore the stinging bruises on her hands and face, the pain registering in bursts with her movements. She felt terribly fatigued, and she remembered her brother saying that two days after any sports event he was always the most tired. Carrying Bane, a 220lb man across a city could definitely count as a sporting event. Whether she had won the game or not she wasn't sure. Bane, for all his confusing looks and how he had touched her, was still Bane. Mask or no mask.

She stared into her mug and at the bruised knuckles holding it. Her wrist was the worst of it, the healing momentarily paused from her fight, the flesh swollen.

She looked past her wrist at the mask once more and stared, unable to take her eyes off it. How would she survive without the mask on his face, when all of her being wanted to see his face, the familiar slope of his shoulders, talk to him, touch him, watch and the way his lips moved. Listen to his accent and the way he sounded without the mask, clean and clear, it made him sound smart. She selfishly wanted to get to know the maskless version of him. But Talia's snake like eyes and the damage the other woman had done plagued Katty.

Christ, this is so wrong.

Bane had to have used another one of the syringes full of medicine to keep the mask off for another day, he could only have a couple more doses left. She hoped he would not have her make more, she didn't want the mask off any longer than it had to be because she knew she needed the barrier, the excuse, his mask created. Their moment the night she had saved him, the way he had touched her face and neck, proved it to her. Just the thought of that moment made her heart beat louder.

She sipped the coffee hissing as the hot liquid hit her busted lip, she thought she tasted blood. Talia al ghul may not have been much of a fighter, but Katty's own teeth had ripped open the inside of her lip, leaving it raw and painful. She took another sip and winced again. Her brain ached as well, the shock of Talia's words, about who Bane's keeper truly was, and the realization she wanted to kill someone and she wanted to kiss someone who had doomed them all..

Something about the urge to kill hurt horribly, as if she was leaving her morals behind, or like she was back in the hospital staring at a horribly burned patient her brain turning to panic, it hurt like when the man had broken the chain her cross was on, it hurt like everything was going dark; and for a moment her stomach lurched and she moved to the sink, but the nausea soon passed. But Her knuckles stayed white on the sink.

I want to kill Talia al ghul.

The words rang, and somewhere in the back of her brain, a voice very much like Bane's asked if she thought anyone could be redeemed.

It made sense that she had felt Bane was somehow not as wicked as he had tried to make her think. He wasn't lovely, by any means, he had a blood on his hands that was beyond red, it was dried and dark, stuck under his nail. He had done horrible things to her, not as horrible as they could have been, some things she could possibly come to forgive in time, others not so much. But, Bane was not the mask he wore, he was mislead yes, broken in many ways, but you had to be guilty to be redeemed in the first place.

She wished she could talk to Holly, or Brooklynn, she wanted to work out the pieces she had discovered during the fight. If Talia had failed before to destroy Gotham, with the gas and whatever else, and how Bane was involved then and how she herself was involved with Bane currently. She wanted to tell Brooklynn how he had looked at her, and now her friend wouldn't judge her only try to understand. She wanted to explain to Caroline why Talia, as it was clear Bane was manipulated into destroying Gotham at this point, would suspend the killing with a bomb? Why make such an example out of Gotham? Caroline would have understood that. And Holly, Holly would have a bit of input on everything, and she would also remind Kathryn that she deserved some peace of mind, a love of her own, she wasn't just an example, she was Kathryn Sherman.

Katty froze quite suddenly, the mug forgotten and the realization hitting her almost as hard as the wave of nausea had before.

Bane had said Katty was to be an example. He'd tortured Katty mentally, driven her to the edge only to pull her back again with kindness and hadn't Talia done the same thing with Gotham?

Only Talia had said Bane was interested in the good in people, not the corruption. He wasn't liberating Katty from some kind of sin.

She ran her hands through her hair.

Katty was one person, not a city, and Bane had been kind. His generosity and politeness was forthright and enduring. He had not been as cruel and made her as miserable as he could have. It didn't make sense to her, but she did know what she wanted. Katty didn't want to kill Bane.

She did want to kill Talia. And an even deeper truth, one she was almost as scared of as wanting to destroy Talia; she wanted Bane.

"Just let it go Katty," her own irritated voice sounded louder than it needed to be in the vacant apartment and she glanced around wide eyed.

Snow had started falling hard against the window panes, leaving the outside world bright, ashen and blinding in contrast to the dim apartment. Her breathe was puffing out in a cloud as she walked away from her coffee, to where Bane kept the medicine she had made with Ezra.

She couldn't dwell on Bane, and instead she counted out the 6 syringes he had left. They had 18 days to live and 6 of those days he could comfortably go without his mask. That was 6 days too many.

She put the syringes back in their place, stoked the fire and gathered her coffee and one of the books. She went to the couch, tucked her legs under her and a blanket around her, to try and drown her thoughts and her longing for her friends in her book..

000

There was a knock on the door, and Kathryn froze on the couch, her blood running cold, then hot with anger. After all that had happened the day before would Talia really think it was a sensible idea to return? Much less doing something so ordinary as knocking. After Katty had learned what it felt like to want to shoot someone, she knew she didn't want to be in that situation a second time, but her eyes glanced towards where the gun was hiding under the mattress.

She closed the book she was reading with a soft snap, forgetting to mark the page as her brain reeled with possibilities.

"Hello?" There was a man's voice, it sounded strained, and she didn't recognize it.

Katty stood, startled in a calmed way, and hastily went to retrieve the gun from under the mattress, and then the door opening it a crack.

To her surprise, It was Barsad. His blank expression and dull shark like eyes shining in the hallway light, but his hands were out in front of his chest in a gesture of nonviolence.

"I, i just want to talk if that's alright..about Holly"

Distrust flooded her, but it wasn't enough to hide the flicker of astonishment crossing her face. She opened the door for him to come in making sure he noticed the gun resting on her hip. She not alarmed to hear Barsad use her friend's first name, but it made the knot in her stomach tighten.

"I'm not going to tell you where she is," her voice was guarded and she crossed her arms gun under one elbow, as they both stepped into the center of the room, eyeing each other uneasily. Barsad, although his stance was lax and his face was as unfeeling as ever, seemed to be buzzing, she imagined all he wanted to know was where he could find Holly, but that was the number one thing she was unwilling to tell him.

"I shouldn't know, she needs to be safe.." his voice seemed strained when he finally spoke, and for the first time Kathryn saw a flicker of something in the man's eyes, not frustration or anger, not lust, but genuine regret. To her surprise and shock, she watched as the man teared up. Only just enough for her to notice, but it was there, nonetheless.

"I only want to know she's safe, that she isn't out starving or..or being raped on the streets." His hands were palm up at his sides, pleading with Katty for reassurance. A sorrowfulness Katty knew all too well staining each of his words.

"She's with my friends." Kathryn explained, voice still cold. Barsad seemed genuinely distressed for Holly, and she nearly felt bad for him. She had seen the same look in her father's eyes when he had left her on the day of the failed attack on the bomb. A look that said the owner of that gaze just wanted the other person safe and sound.

"Good," his voice was obviously emotional at this point, and he cleared his throat. Kathryn almost liked the man better with the anguish written across his face and in the lines on his forehead.

"Thank you, i... i won't go looking for her,

I'll..i just want her safe" he nodded to her, and went to the door, his hand halting on the knob and he looked back to her, a new emotion flickering in those usually dead eyes.

"When Bane..made you, choose between killing Holly and those other people...Thank you for not choosing Holly..." gratitude and sympathy was in his gaze and Kathryn was reminded of what Holly had told Kathryn about Barsad's promise to kill everyone in that room if Kathryn had chosen to kill Holly.

She nodded, very aware of the blood on her hands and the door closed.

000

After Barsad left Kathryn took out her drawing notebook and tried to sketch Holly, free Holly, content and with snowflakes in her lashes and hair. All the while wishing she had colored pencils to draw in the gentle blush on her friends face, and her sea glass eyes. But instead the pencil twisted in her grasp and the shadow she drew behind her friend turned into the familiar vacant eyes and expressionless face of the man who had just left her apartment.

The eraser took to the page, and Kathryn, with some resentment, and some heartache in her strokes, drew the shadow of the man handing her friend a gun, and his heart, bleeding and dying.

She stopped drawing when tears hit the page.

Holly had some feelings for Barsad, she knew her friend well enough and easily sympathized, she saw the turmoil that had traversed her friends face, and heard it in her voice. Kathryn just hadn't expected to feel so off put by her friends feelings. She hadn't in the moment, it was the new revelations in her own life that made her bitter. The mask coming off, Bane's hand resting on her neck and shoulder.. Kathryn wiped the tears from her face with her sore wrist and let out a sobering breath.

Holly's reasoning at the time had seemed confusing. It was complicated and disorientating, maybe Holly had just gotten physical, and then gotten attached. Katty had remembered a point when she had thought to use her body against Bane, but she had quickly concluded to a man like him it would not endear him to her. Now she wasn't so sure. Bane had almost kissed her. She had almost kissed him.

Perhaps Holly's and Barsad's feelings stemmed from a purely physical relationship. Had it just worked too well and now they enjoyed each other's company, Found they were compatible? Barsad obviously hadn't been the one who personally attacked Gotham, and after seeing the man vulnerable, with some compassion to him, Katty found herself easily believing Barsad was just as manipulated as Bane. Maybe he was even good.

Something about the twisted simplicity of Holly's situation, the fact that Barsad wasn't Bane, made Kathryn almost envious, it drained her heart and she felt how tired she was in her bones, and she felt guilty.

The door opened suddenly and she twisted in her seat, flinching as she looked at Bane's face. She hadn't even heard the door unlock. He looked to her and nodded seeming to study her reddened eyes and recently tear stained face, but he crossed the room without questioning her, his strides long and still too quiet for someone his size. Despite her own appearance, to her he looked even more shockingly alive than she had remembered. The color had returned to his cheeks and they were flushed from the cold. It almost hurt to look at him, and definitely weakened the resolve she had tried to build for this moment. Promptly her stomach twisted in knots and she remembered being close enough to his face to feel his breath on her cheek.

"Good evening Kathryn," his voice was low and he slipped the heavy coat off his shoulders and placed it on one of the dining room chairs before he crossed their makeshift living room towards the couch. He held a duffle bag, which shifted as he moved, noises like metal clanking together came from it. Bane reached into one of the bags pockets removing something from it.

He sat on the couch, not close, but his body angled towards her, his immense frame tipping the cushion she rested on towards him. Her chest lurching as she slid a fraction of an inch, and he was just so near, and so far away, and there was no mask, and she felt like she'd never be used to it.

"Here," he held out his hand to her, something clasped in his fingers.

Katty's eyebrows rose and she glowered at him, trying to look unimpressed, but curiosity clouded her eyes.

"What is that? You're not going to put a bug in my hand?"

His eyebrows furrowed and he looked somewhat bemused and she wasn't sure if she liked the expression on him, it was much too interesting and easy going. She held out her hand beneath his, forcing herself to look at her hand instead of his face.

His fingertips rested on her hand as his hand slid away, lingering just long enough for both of them to acknowledge his hesitation.

She had never noticed just how large his hand was compared to hers, despite all their sparring, but the thought was instantly replaced as she saw the string resting in her palm.

"What's this?" She asked despite recognizing it as the string Bane always kept tucked away in one of his deep pockets and would occasionally fiddle with.

"For your cross" the words left his lips with a peculiar uncertainty she had never detected from him before, instead of timid like most forms of uncertainty, it came out gravely and low. He readjusted in his seat and touched his jaw with one finger, rubbing his stubble absentmindedly as he watched her.

She looked past the string at him and felt her mouth go dry.

"Thanks" she wanted to say more, but some part of her had stalled, boundaries and borders going up in her mind. This was not just her cross, this was him claiming that part of her with a piece of him. She tried again to thank him, her mouth opening then closing with the impossible task of forming words of gratitude. While her body itched, and wanted to thank him with all of her.

000

I'm alive.

She saved me.

I love her.

Bane had kept the same, unchanging thoughts in his mind that day. Like a silver lining to all of the chaos clouding his brain and the city, there was Kathryn. His disoriented musings from before had definitely crumbled and turned into a new version of tiresome, doped up on pain medicine thoughts, but what mattered was the overpowering feeling in his chest. He had been worried, the feeling would ebb and flow away with the drowsiness and confusion that had left. But instead, it had gotten greater with each heartbeat.

I'm alive.

She saved me.

I love her.

He didn't mind her simple appreciation for the piece to her necklace, or the way in which her words turned to banter. He was fixated on how she had blushed and her lips formed a thin line as she thought it over. He could see the gears turning in her brain and he wished she would tell him what she was thinking, but Kathryn Sherman, his little bird, was not the kind of woman to share her thoughts unless she wanted too. And when she wanted to she would shout sonnets from the rooftops.

The night before had been proof of that.

He had walked in on a disheveled, somewhat flustered version of Kathryn, who had surprised him in her bluntness and careless aire. She didn't seem aware of his completely baffled mind. Talia had come, and he had been absent, but he had also missed witnessing something much more. He was not the kind of man to take symbolism from anything, but the blatant obviousness of it made his tongue heavy.

He had wanted to ask her how the fight had started, wanted to bandage her knuckles and swollen cheek, wanted to ramble questions and talk to her in a way he had never wanted to speak to anyone; but it was clear she wanted to get away from him. Her eyes had fluttered to the uninhabited mask and her hands had been shaky, no matter how much she tried to conceal it. Whether the dread and anxiety she conveyed, was directed at him, Talia or something more he couldn't tell.

Kathryn had not given him time to ask anything, she had lurched into everything she was thinking about, mild hysteria hinting in her hushed tone.

"You're being manipulated."

She surprised him once again.

"This is all Talia, a revamp of some plan that she attempted ten years ago isn't it?" Her eyes flashed, "Talia told me she had rescued you, and you saved her but loyalty is more than that, this tie between you too it's madness, lunacy and she is trying to slaughter thousands of people. No one in their right mind could do this! How can you be in your right mind and follow her?" she was rambling and all of what she said made sense to him, but not to her. She was steadily getting irate and he could sense the fight returning to her with each heavily punctuated and hushed sentence.

"-and Gotham is just an example-" she had jabbed a bruised finger at him tears beginning to threaten her eyelashes and she didn't seem to have noticed that she'd taken steps forward, towards him with each bitter statement. He knew this feeling coming off of her, he had felt this unease and desperate many times after he had fought someone that had drained him. Her hysteria was a reflection of that, but her words were heavy with truth.

"-You came here, You let Talia come here. helped her get here. Brought Gotham to this point." Kathryn's hands were fists, but the tears had steadied and not broken loose her war with a silent rage that seemed to roll off her, and the fire was back behind her eyes had won.

"You helped turn Gotham into a doomed war zone with a woman who's exploiting you." Her words stung and he hated how quiet and sincere she was. Like she had fought some battle for him.

"You don't mean anything to her Bane. You are nothing but her face for this rebellion. Her-her pawn, Her goddamn executioner! "

She finished, so close to him he could feel her and he looked into her eyes knowing she could feel his own outrage rising at her words, but he was paralyzed.

Afraid to move towards her. Afraid of what he might do if he touched her.

They stood still, inches apart, both of them angry and the air humming with a frustration that was clearly primal.

Only, her face fell as she stared at him, the fight she had been begging for lost somewhere inside when all he granted her was silence. Her stance slowly relaxed, shoulders stooped and she had spoken slowly, "But that's..that's the mask, not who you are.."

The room was silent.

Kathryn had not given him time to interrogate her or represent himself or Talia. Had he wanted to defend the other woman. He had instead been still. He supposed that said more then he could ever actually say.

And then, before he could move or respond, she had bolted.

She had promptly gone to bed.

He had a million things to say and the sight of her leaving, left him stimulated and awake the rest of that night. His lack of sleep had prompted him to leave early in the morning to clear his head and look at the City of Gotham through what he could only hope was Kathryn's gaze. He wanted to understand what it was she saw there, and so he head taken his motorcycle through the snowy streets, slowly and deliberately, her blood pumping through his vanes. He tried paying close attention to the architecture of the buildings, the reflection of the sky on the windows, the life of the city was dead he realized. More windows were broken then together, and the usual lights and hum of the city was chilled. He did try to see it, try to find the good her, and once or twice he slowed his bike vision clear of the helmet usually obstructing his view and he noticed the footprints on the ground, even a set of a child's treads, little toes in the snow, barefoot and cold. He sped of quickly and headed for home.

Kathryn was angry at Talia, angry for Gotham, and angry for him. She still was.

Within his dazed recollection of the night before and this morning he had opened his mouth to reply and the limited distance separating them seemed to register, and she small, wide eyed one hand gripping the couch cushion beside her while her gaze shifting from his own, to his lips, her eyes screaming at him. All the words somewhere in his throat had disappeared the moment he had left the memory and come back to the present, he'd gotten lost in her; her golden hair, her blue eyes, in her scent, in a gardenia garden, she was just so familiar and close.

"How are your stitches holding up?" She inquired and his gaze searched her face. He had detected her jealousy the night before, caught the redirection of her usual resentment with him turned on Talia and her concern now gave him some ghost of a promise. A chance.

"Fine, You did them well, and the medicine is doing its job." He motioned to the duffle bag and she took a steadying breath as she looked at it, and her breathing seemed to steady him too.

"I got parts to fix my mask," he paused as her eyebrows raised. "Should be an easy fix."

"Oh."

She looked torn, and he didn't like the silence that stretched between them. He had decided during the night, to try and answer some of questions she had attacked him with before bed. He wanted to apologize for Talia, give Kathryn an explanation, thank her for not seriously hurting Talia, but show he was proud of her for standing her ground. To tell her about what she had said the night before without knowing she had said it.

She was bigger than an example to him now, she was so much more. He felt her importance grow with every passing moment. She was what he had wanted to become long ago. He had wanted to be Talia's hero. Talia's Martyr, the face of her rebellion because he had loved her. Maybe he still did, but now it hurt like hellfire. Like a bomb had gone off inside him.

He stood unable to stand the silence and finding himself unable to break it. He dragged the duffel bag with him to the table. He didn't know what to say to Kathryn, how to explain to her that; yes, he did feel used. Yes, he didn't want to die. And she had been right about everything. But it was still his duty to destroy her city.

Talia had asked him too, and he was not a man to abandon a plan, and no matter how much it hurt he still loved the child that Talia had been. And he loved Kathryn just as much now.

And he felt weak that he couldn't bring himself to tell her so, that he was afraid to loose her if he told her the love her felt for her. Scared that she would use his love for Talia against him, and disregard his feelings. His own anger for Talia flared for a moment then faltered.

He sat that the table where is mask lay and opened the duffle retrieving the parts for his mask.

He could remember a time before the plans for Gotham had even been a whisper, when Talia had pained him much like this. He had been filled with bitterness towards Talia, he had thought, she had abandoned him in the pit. Not throwing down a rope, not come back. It took her two years to return to him with her father, and even longer for him to recover from the beatings he had taken for her.

He remembered fittings with the mask the pain filling his every movement. Blinding him as his back seemed to disappear into another realm, made of agony and anguish. But the pain was nothing compared with his anger towards Talia.

For a long while had been furious with her. What had taken her so long? Why hadn't she come back sooner? She had found her father, so what could have taken her so long to get back to him? He hadn't asked, hadn't wanted to go near the little girl that had once been his only care in their dark world. He had instead busied himself with learning what he could from The League.

Her father seemed to be the only person who noticed Bane's flashing eyes, the resentment that flowed through every inch of him when Talia was around. But anger, for Bane, at that point in time had not been cured by bloodshed.

When Talia began to show signs of being a woman he had easily found himself doubting his hate, he saw the curve of her jaw, her smile, and even the way she walked and he fell. Not fast, but slowly, disdain turning to a confused tension in between his ribs. When Talia finally spoke to him, when she apologized, her words fervent and powerful, he knew then, that if they were back in the pit he would die for this woman all over again.

"That's good..that it will be a quick fix."

Kathryn had stood and was walking past him and the table to the kitchen area, and he paused his workings with the mask to look at her; the curve of her jaw, her smile, her hips and even the way she walked..

"We're going to need more food. Few days left to live or not I don't want to starve." Her mouth was sharp and she raised her eyebrows at him and he raised his back mimicking her. She glowered then and took a large bite out of the banana she was eating, at least she would never be low on potassium, he mused.

"I'll have some food brought." He glanced to where her cross should be, but her skin was bare, and despite her spunk, she seemed glossy eyed in comparison to the girl he was used to.

"Is something wrong Kathryn?" He paused in his workings with the mask, he wanted to seem sincere. Though his mask may have looked confusing to everyone else, his mending the mask was an easy task after years of practice. She, on the other hand, was the most complicated thing he had ever found; so he gave her his full attention.

Her lips twitched and she stared at her food, her swallow deliberate. She was thinking again, and when she looked back to him, she looked trapped, thousands of words buried under her skin.

"I'm fine."

But he didn't believe her.

-DiemondGrimm