Chapter 32, Fire
Song Recommendation: "No light, No Light" (MT unplugged version) by, Florence and the machine
Loss was a fickle thing. You didn't realize what a weight something could be until it was gone, you didn't know what the loss of different people could entail. Worst of all, you didn't know how horrible it could be, to have the loss of a burden, then too suddenly having that burden returned to you.
The familiar weight of his mask and the absence of the buzz from the replacement medicine she had concocted for him left Bane feeling irritable. His heart was also heavy from the dismaying scene that had transpired that morning with Kathryn.
Her overreaction to him and his straightforward answers about the bomb was easy to understand. It was a childish rejection of reality, something she was prone to. The scorn and apprehension in her gaze had pained him. But when he cornered her, she had stilled in his arms. It was only a moment, just long enough for him to see her face change from thoughts of the bomb, to thoughts of him. His desire mirrored in her eyes, had caught the helplessness he had felt in his chest and cast if far away.
A heartbeat later and Kathryn had brought it right back. The scratches on his arms, though painless due to the medicine from his mask, still left a physical reminder of her unwillingness to let him get close to her. He hadn't known how to react when faced with the truth he had been sensing from her all along. He had been lost in the feeling of her body flush against his, the frustration inside him. Her words 'if you loved me', burning into his brain. But still, she had pulled away. Hiding herself from him.
He had not realized in the moments after she had saved him, when every ounce of his being had been buzzing with a fathomless adoration for her, that she would, despite his own feelings, continue to be the martyr he adored. The strong-willed woman he loved would not be as impulsive as he was. Her past he could respect, it was his own with Talia that made it it discouraging.
He was emotional, but he was critical of it too. The return to his old medicine, along with the burden of the bomb suddenly weighing on him, was more than he had expected.
To him, this was the start of how it all ended. The world that was Gotham was set to burn and nobody could change that. He had known for sometime Talia would try to destroy the bombs reactor, but some part of him had denied it. The weight of the bomb being the thing to control his fate now unnerved him and Kathryn's eyes flashed in his mind. She made him burn from the inside out, and her rejection, the fear and hurt in her eyes felt so much worse than a bomb.
He wanted to rip out her fear, turn it into power, and he wasn't sure if that was what love was, wanting to fix her. Taking the little-broken pieces that were so afraid to get near him and making them into a new Kathryn that wasn't afraid to love him. A Kathryn that was different from the one in her psychiatric file. But Kathryn had proven that changing someone like her was impossible without her consent, it would have to be her own decision. What Kathryn desired was to save her city. What he really wanted was her love, and he wanted it desperately enough to threaten who she was a second time and that made him sick.
He would not change her. He loved her for all her scars and imperfections, and how she had changed him.
No one could have changed Bane but Kathryn, and in doing so, she had planted a seed of doubt and fear so deep inside him even the pain of rejection couldn't tear out the roots of it. Because, he could only assume, he didn't know for sure if Talia had succeeded in sabotaging the reactor.
He didn't doubt that she had, but the hope that she might not have was like heavy branches, and this life was a wind, billowing and full of lightning.
"Get away from me!" "just leave me alone!"
Her words echoed and crashed in his mind and he truthfully in that moment back in the apartment, when she had cracked those words through every fiber of his soul, he had wanted to ignore her demands. He had thought to charge after her and rip the bathroom door off of its hinges. Pull her into him, and kiss her till she believed him, understood he truly couldn't save her and he would do anything to save her.
His fists balled at his sides and he flexed his arms and his back, every inch of him wanted to fight. Example and rejected or not, Gotham was not worth this one truly good soul, and the powerlessness he felt in his inability to save her made his vision red. Gotham would burn; he had made a promise, a pact, and plans, but the flicker and beat, the spark of Gotham was not in the example of its destruction, it was inside of people like Kathryn. The good that would be lost, not the corruption that might be destroyed, and he knew Talia would never see it that way.
It did not put his heart at ease that Talia had also neglected to check in as was normal. There were no notes, no messages, and Bane wondered for some time if he should worry about her or assume the undercover mercenaries he had set up around her had just failed to make contact. Either way, he would need to try and get ahold of the infuriating woman, if for no other reason than to try and keep his thoughts clear of her and to know if she had sabotaged the reactor. Like this, Talia was a burden; stronger than before, stronger even than the pain he felt towards her.
"Bane," Barsad strode up to him. The other man's eyes had become more and more distant since Holly Wakefield had left, and Bane was almost tempted to ask him if he was doing any sort of drugs.
"There's been noise on the radio frequency going to the cops underground again. Nothing of importance, since they don't have a way to communicate, but we think we've tracked it to a warehouse nearby. It's the same warehouse we tracked several of the revolutionaries going into who were with the Sherman girl."
Bane raised an eyebrow as Barsad handed him a glowing tablet with information and a location on the screen. He tapped the touch-screen and zoomed out, looking for the building he had been staying in before. He located it and within a few seconds found the hospital he had let Kathryn volunteer at. Sure enough, the warehouse was in between, though indirectly, the apartment and the hospital. He let out a breath that warmed the mask, and once again, he was overly aware of its return to his face.
"Barsad, gather some men, we're going on a little stroll."
It didn't take them long to reach the warehouse. The snow had mostly melted and it made it easy to walk through the city and took the biting edge away from the cold.
The area seemed mostly abandoned, but there was the distinct feeling of not being completely alone. Barsad seemed to sense the same thing, the man's stance tense, and Bane surveyed the buildings, looking for cameras and the best manner into the warehouse. The plan easily formed in his brain and he wondered, not for the first time, if Kathryn, when designing her own plan of attack, had simply been able to plan it or if she had some kind of help.
The men were well trained and quickly made it inside the building and cleared corners. They had been ordered to be as silent as possible and used hand motions to communicate back to Bane.
The warehouse was empty, devoid of life and Bane motioned for them to check for anything underground or above.
Bane waited, the distracting ache in his chest and the gash on his stomach stung despite the medicine, Kathryn's stitches being strained as he moved more than he should. It had only been three days since Kathryn had pulled him through the city, and the wound was barely healed.
He touched the spot on his arm where the needle had given him Kathryn's blood. Remembered waking up with his mask off and thought of the events that had lead to him putting it back on.
Her hiding had been the deciding factor for him to replace the mask. What he might do if he didn't was itching under his skin, and with a final thought— that to her, he was nothing more than Gotham's executioner, Talia's whipping boy, a damned man— he had left the apartment.
He had an army to run after all, and Kathryn didn't want him.
A gunshot went off and shouts were heard and Bane was on his feet, in the warehouse and ready. He surveyed the building, eyes adjusting to the dim, and he too in the thrown open door leading down to another room. The fighting was coming from there, but the commotion ended just as quickly as it had started. Barsad motioned for him to come down, and Bane found himself slowly prowling down the steps. His hands grabbed the collar of his coat, each heavy footfall moving the unsteady metal steps, but it felt good to enter the dark below.
The room he entered was not what he expected to find below an abandoned warehouse. It had several computer screens, tv screens and electronic gadgets splayed out on a table. And, to his even greater surprise, there in the center of the room, was a woman in a wheelchair. She met his gaze with hard eyes.
"You brought the big man himself with you," the woman's voice was catty and grated against his eardrums. Her hands were held by his men and a gun had slid across the floor from her, and his boot bumped it as he came to a stop. He looked at it, then back at her and the screens.
It was obvious there had been several other tv or computer screens mounted at one time, perhaps the whole wall had once been occupied. Vaguely, he wondered if Kathryn had been here in this very room, but he cleared and focused his mind.
"Well..." he picked the small Glock up off the dusty ground, leaned against the desk of computers and gadgets, and rested the gun on his thigh as he studied the red-headed woman further. She didn't look scared of him and that was intriguing, but to his annoyance, she also looked as equally intrigued by him.
"Hello," the mask hissed as he spoke and he motioned to the tv screens with the gun.
"I'd like to know what is going on here."
000
She awoke startled and sweaty, her heartbeat racing, and she didn't know where she was. She tried to stand and slipped and felt tile under her palms and remembered with a rush what had happened the day before.
Bane, his speech, the confessions, and her hands on his chest, her fear and the look in his eyes.
Her breathing hitched.
She had spent the whole rest of the day on the bathroom floor, praying, repeating Psalms, crying out to God for an answer, a reason why, until, finally exhausted, she had fallen into a fitful sleep.
There was no hope for Gotham.
Bane would not stop the bomb.
She was cold to the bone from sleeping on the hard tile, now freezing her through her socks. She guessed the power was out and she tried to flip the light switch and nothing happened.
Despite the gloom, she starred in the mirror anyway. Her sweater was crooked and her hair was a mess. Her eyes, red and burning, looked unlike her own and she reached up to touch her lips.
No noise came from outside the room, but she couldn't imagine facing him. She had dreamt about him, and it was wicked. And she closed her eyes tight to forget the images. But she had also dreamed he had said yes, that he would save Gotham, that she had succeeded and God's plan for her, in her dreams, had been to succeed and that was what had mattered. She had mattered to God.
She was clutching her cross.
The reality was God's plan was not for her to succeed. She had failed to convince Bane to save the city because he couldn't. He was as helpless as she was, and instead of accepting their fate, she had pushed him away, rejected him in her hopelessness.
She hadn't wanted to get away from him, not really, and the more she thought about it, dread filled her stomach and she felt panic flutter in her chest.
She hadn't meant it.
She wanted him. She had been angry and scared and she was still angry and scared, but the truth was she wanted him.
"Bane ! "
She burst out of the bathroom his name escaping her lips and she swung around the apartment, heart beating out of her chest.
It was empty.
And his mask was gone.
000
The day passed dreadfully though quickly for Katty. She prayed and stoked the fire, getting into a steady rhythm of staying warm and staying sane.
If there was one thing she had seemingly forgotten in her captivity, was how incredibly unpredictable life was, and she had in her own way realized, she was the most unpredictable part of her own life. Her own feelings surprised her and the motivation she felt from fear and her past was intense and ruling. When she wanted to reign it in, rule her own thoughts, think somewhat rationally, she prayed. But prayer didn't make the feelings go away, only made the anxiety leave, and left her stomach full of butterflies.
What had she become, she wondered, that she denied her own feelings? Years ago she had taken a psychology class and learned first and foremost that feelings were the only thing that were real to a person. She or anyone else were ruled by their emotions and denying them wouldn't help her.
She didn't need to feel afraid of past scars and the lies of someone she had thought loved her, when her future was only 17 days long and she didn't think, she knew, without a doubt, that she cared deeply for Bane.
Her feelings were the things that were her true keeper, making her, real and good. But they had also overwhelmed her to the point she had locked herself in a bathroom to get away from Bane.
Of course, he had also had the decency to stay away from her and give her the space she may, or may not have needed.
It ate at her that she hadn't come to the conclusion she couldn't escape sooner, hadn't gone back out to face him and her feelings. Their mutual feelings.
So, to forget the intensity of his eyes and the heaviness the situation put on her heart, she prayed and recited songs and passages. She didn't know what she was going to say to Bane when he returned. Should she apologize? She couldn't think of a situation where she would tell him she had acted irrationally or overreacted.
She'd realized that she couldn't not be honest with God or herself, because her honesty and faith was what made her who she was deep down. How could she not be honest with Bane? How could she not admit, to quote him, that she cared deeply for him too?
She was afraid of her past and the parallels with the present, but deep down this was something different. There was a link between them, a path she couldn't truly escape or see the harm in. If her soul was damned by loving a man and not already by the shadows of the dead trailing behind her, so be it.
But still, she could not shake the feeling of his words. If he truly couldn't stop the bomb, then there was no saving Gotham. Her friends, her family, 12 million souls all doomed; that meant there was no hope, no matter her feelings towards him. There was nothing left to lose.
A knock sounded on the door and she realized she was much more apprehensive than she had been the last time as she went for the gun under the mattress. To her dismay, the gun was gone and she tentatively stepped to the door, unease weighing on her.
She cracked it open with a sense of Deja-Vu and in the hall, she saw Dev and another man dressed in mercenary attire that she had never seen. Dev didn't smile but didn't really not smile either.
"Hey," The greeting sounded so normal, and at the same time so bleak, that Katty almost cringed. Dev nodded curtly,
"Bane sent us with medicine, said you would know what to do." Dev seemed a little apprehensive herself as she held out a rather large bag to Katty, who easily recognized the names on the bottles used to make the compound so Bane could take off the mask. Katty's heart wasn't quite leaping at the idea, but it was tight and skipping in her chest.
"Oh," Dev seemed to notice the hesitation and discomfort on Katty's face. Seemed to want to ask a question, but instead just held the bag out farther to Katty.
"Well, good luck."
She closed the door.
000
The woman was sharp, and she danced around Bane's questions and asked her own without even an ounce of coyness. He guessed very quickly that she would not respond to pain and she had seen plenty of it before. He also knew from the set of her jaw and the tick in her eyes she wanted to trade information, but he wasn't willing to grace most of her questions, no matter how nonsensical they were, with answers. She was just trying to command the conversation, gain the upper hand by not answering him, but Bane saw no real threat in her, nor the need to give her a false sense of security.
His men had discovered the second level down of the warehouse; the empty storage area beneath it was abandoned though it looked like it had recently been lived in. The modified wheelchair ramp leading down to that level gave Bane the notion that the woman was of bigger importance to the people involved here than she let on.
Barsad had been going over the computers with another man named Yusuf, and they had found very little for all the locks and hidden information keyed into the gadgets in a code that was unknown to them. There were a few things that were in plain scrawl, the messages sent between several devices, most of which were the locations of various hiding spots for food, ammunition, and safe houses.
"You are shorter than you look on tv", the woman commented when he was silent for some time. He raised an eyebrow at her and straightened where he sat on the edge of the desk, feeling unthreatened by her snark; he was a very self-assured and confident man. He understood she was only trying to restart the conversation, and he decided to give her somewhat of a reply.
"For a girl of your physicality, that is quite an observation," he waved a hand towards her wheelchair's base and the mask hissed.
"Girl? I'm probably older than you," she laughed, and it was more of a rough chuckle, flat, like her laugh had been broken long ago.
"Perhaps." He was beginning to doubt her more and more. Skeptical that she knew as little as she seemed to let on, claiming that she didn't know how to run the electronics in front of her and she was waiting for the man who did to return. She didn't seem like the kind of woman who would let herself be dependent on a man; he'd seen her look before, on Kathryn's face many , he noted Talia had never shared that look.
Bane had set men up outside to wait for the supposed owner of the bunker, despite his doubts, but time was slow, and they sat in silence as Yusuf and Barsad clicked on the keyboards and Bane was lost in thought.
A light flashed on one of the screens and the woman's clever eyes turned to it and she gestured to him, then the desk.
"There's a call coming in; it's probably him. Can I answer it?"
He didn't trust her, and he shifted the gun on his knee looking to Barsad and Yusuf who seemed to be struggling to find the keyboard they needed.
"Let the good woman answer it."
His men lost no time in getting out of her way, and she was surprisingly fast despite the lack of the use of her legs, and she went to the far corner of the desk, clicking several keys.
Instantly, Bane regretted the decision.
Everything went dark. Barsad cursed somewhere in the dim. Suddenly gunshots sounded from outside, the familiar pop and ping of bullets hitting metal made Banejump into action.
"Head below," he ordered and several flashlights were turned on by Barsad and his other men. Bane's eyes had already somewhat adjusted, the dark feeling familiar and still, despite the adrenaline and the sound of boots coming down the stairs above, and the shouts from his men heading down the modified ramp to the second floor down, the darkness there was good.
"How lovely," Bane's mask made his words rasp and he felt the familiar buzz as his heart rate picked up and the mask answered, feeding more medicine into his system. He crossed the room in two quick strides and grabbed the woman's forearm. She didn't say anything but tried to jerk away from him.
"You can be silent and compliant or I will make you both, and it will not be pleasant." He yanked her up by her arm and easily pulled her to the platform leading to the storage room with him, dropping her as the door slammed behind them. He turned and in the light of Barsad's flashlight, watched the woman's eyes widen as he easily bent the doorknob up, twisting the metal and efficiently locking it without a key.
"Bring he." He strode down the ramp quickly descending into the dark.
He walked confidently down and through the middle of the room, as around him his men cleared around boxes and storage containers that littered the large area. They set up a defensive positions along the far side of the underground bunker, the boxes and two storage containers there provided efficient cover.
He had just settled himself behind one of them, checking the contents of the gun as he went, when the room echoed with the sound of the door above being hit. The room got horribly still as Barsad came up beside him, the woman, now gagged and bound, making the only sound, fighting to sit up where she had been left.
"Lights out." Bane didn't need to shout in the stillness, and one by one the flashlights clicked off.
Then the door above them crashed open and all hell broke loose.
000
The door to the apartment banged open and Kathryn jumped, the sketchbook in her hand falling to the ground. Bane entered, his large coat slipping off his shoulders and for a moment he seemed larger than she had remembered, the door frame dwarfed by his immense size.
She stood and wasn't sure why, but she approached him boldly and when he turned from hanging his coat by the door, she was right in front of him, looking up into the mask that covered his face. He glowered at her over the mask, and the surge of energy she had felt melted, both of them still in the darkening apartment. Now that she knew his face, all she wanted was for the mask to leave, to uncover the man she had saved, but in his gaze the confidence she had felt withered. All of the words she had planned to say stuck in her throat.
"Gotham's hero," he spoke first, and his voice was barely human behind the mask. The steel edge of his voice and the look in his eyes matched the fierceness and deadly edges of the mask's surface. There was no hint of the Bane that had joined her for a meal, no hint of the man she had saved. He was mocking her, she realized.
"Bane… I... " She didn't know what to say, the words sticking in her throat like she couldn't swallow, and she was reaching up her hands, palm up in a sign of peace. A copy of what had put her at ease when Barsad had come to speak to her, hoping the gesture would rely as much with Bane.
"Bane...?" He was breathing deeply, his chest heaving in and out and behind the mask, his breaths had turned to growls.
She watched, her feet feeling frozen in place as the mask on his face started dripping.
The mask was melting, the liquid like molten metal slipping through the tubing and falling onto his boots and hissing on the floor. She stood silent, unable to breathe as the metal was moving upwards, the shining liquid covering his cheeks and his forehead, over his shoulders and down his spine.
"Do you wish to know me?" The voice that came through the mask was rough and she was able to take a step back. The sounds of the nightmare was familiar; evil laughing at her in the form of Bane, as he slowly became one with the mask.
He shoved her back and she tripped, catching her balance against something, and then hands were grabbing her.
"Let go!" she yelled as she looked down and saw the makeup on the hands, the white oily paint under the disgusting nails and a laugh, high and shrieking hit her ear drums.
"Little King!"
She pulled away and turned to find Bane, her vision clouded and dark. She had to focus hard on what was around her. The Joker dashed in and out of her vision and for a moment she saw Carolynne kneeling in the corner, her hair greasy and eyes dim.
"Bane?!" She was spinning in circles and finally stopped as she saw him, his body seeming to double in size and he was holding Holly, her throat in one now metal fist.
"Do you wish to know me?" He snarled again, and she charged at him, trying to take Holly's place, but the Joker pushed her over cackling in her ear.
"Answerrrr the quessstion!"
"Bane please!" She was moving in slow motion, everything edged in black and she crawled forward, desperate to reach him.
Metal dripped on her hands and she looked up to see him reaching down to her, yanking her up by her hair so she was looking into his still-human eyes.
"Do you wish to know me?!" His voice was booming and it made her ears ring and tears slip from her eyes. Carolynne was behind Bane and she put her fingers to her lips in a shushing gesture, before disappearing into the darkness of Katty's vision. Very suddenly, Talia stood in the darkness, replacing Caroline. Talia's own green eyes were gleeful and she followed Caroline into the darkness, slowly, a smile spreading on her face as she went.
Kathryn felt the muzzle of Bane's gun to her head and heard Holly sobbing somewhere very far away.
When she looked into Bane's eyes, they weren't mad. She gazed at him, as close as she had been the morning before, and they were sad and broken. Tears slipping from them as quickly as metal and blood dripped from the mask.
"Yes, Bane, I do, I was wrong!"
A gunshot went off.
Kathryn awoke with a start, her dream chasing her into the apartment and wrapping her in a panic that made her heart hurt and she was looking around the room, eyes wild. She was still alone and somehow that made the feeling so much worse.
She hated nightmares, hated the Joker running around her mind, and worst of all, Bane a tormented man. Twisted and broken, his mask smashed and bloody made her gasp for air. The weight of the dream was getting harder to hold up, coming in waves that broke the reality of the apartment around her as she thought about it— thought about Bane. About what her life would be like if she had left him to die instead of saving him.
She stood abruptly, tripping on her blanket and pitching forward she grabbed the edge of the fire pit, the concrete cold to the touch. She punched the stone, cursed, and held her hand to her chest as she stood erect. The old bruises on her knuckles rekindled and made her want to cry. She was just too upset with herself, it made everything she did feel worse and was made even more overwhelming by the quiet of the apartment.
Fuck Bane, for leaving her alone.
She went to the kitchen. She was hungry and somewhere the back of her mind she was aware of Bane's constant reminders that she must eat.
She passed the table where earlier she had slaved away for hours, stirring, mixing and making the medicine that would help Bane out of the mask. She hadn't been necessarily unhappy to make it, her feelings turning from hopelessly frustrated with herself to hopelessly lonely and frustrated with him. She didn't like that she was running from her own feelings, blaming everything on him as she pumped medicine into syringes, but she didn't know what to feel because she didn't want to feel anything at all.
When she entered the little half circle area of the kitchen, she noticed the leftover dishes from the day before. They were clean and sparkling in the early morning light.
He, of course, had fucking done the dishes.
With some vigor she grabbed and peeled a banana, taking fast and angry bites out of it as confused feelings swirled through her mind.
She didn't mean to be angry. She was, of course, angry with the nightmares, and Bane for being gone, and at herself for being mad, but she had replaced the fear of her dream with anger, and that was a hell of a lot easier to deal with.
But by the time her banana was finished and she was chewing an overly large mouthful, the momentary childish anger had ebbed and a hole had opened up inside her, the loneliness of the room and the weight of her dream demanding attention. So, she prayed silently as the cold room made her start to shiver.
She missed Bane like you missed someone you wanted to banter with, and she tried to deny that she missed flirting with him, in a sense, and convince herself what she really was feeling was a need to check on the stab wound. After all, it would suck if the stitches didn't heal properly, and God only knew what he was doing now that would probably ruin them.
She was looking at one of the bowls from the night before as she chewed, the shadows in the room lengthening as the morning grew brighter and the sun came up casting it in a dull light. She realized she was praying the wound would heal well and also that she was holding her cross, the string Bane had given her winding in her fingers. She wondered where Bane could be in the city, it was late for him not to have returned. She normally would have assumed he was fine, he could take care of himself, but he was injured. She was frustrated with the troubling thoughts of Bane and found herself picking up the bowl from the drying rack.
She threw it. She watched it smash and shatter in a thousand different directions.
It felt good, and it felt bad, the best part being the sound it made in the empty apartment, and she quickly was picking up the other bowl, and tossing it against one of the cabinets. The sound was deafening…
It took no time at all for the dish strainer to be empty and the floor to be full of shattered glass.
Something about it was satisfying. She felt pulled apart at the seams and seeing something else, more fragile than her, even though she didn't truly know what it meant, made her feel better.
"Clean that up Bane," she spat, though she quickly realized she wasn't as angry with him as she was lonely without him. She wanted him there.
So she kneeled down in the midsts of her broken masterpiece, trying to forget him in prayer. The glass glittering and shining in the fresh sunlight all around her.
000
It was becoming increasingly clear to Bane that this had been an ambush. The woman, whoever she was, had wanted them to intercept those messages, maybe even used a frequency they frequented on purpose, and she had wanted them to come down into this storage facility, trying to make it their tomb.
He was determined to make it hers.
He had her gag removed and tried to question her amongst the gunfire. Her cold eyes glowered at him and he wanted to crush the life out of her, but he stayed still, manifesting his annoyance with her by the rage and steel in the eyes above his mask. The woman reminded him of the perfect cold blooded mix of his Talia and Kathryn. Like she had faced life head on and been broken in body but not in spirit and would fight tooth and nail for what she wanted. Like Kathryn, but also like Talia al Ghul, she would use whoever she wanted to get it.
"We've intercepted messages prior to this." Bane ignored the gunfire pinging around them and thought of the many messages his men had reported in the files he was always looking over, trying to find a real threat in the mix of angry voices over the radio. He focused on the woman on the floor beneath him.
"I presume you sent them. We have received messages at the Gotham airport also. All the aircraft there have been destroyed, not even my own men could leave Gotham." He gestured to the men hiding beside them, feeling the power of having their lives in his hands. Her eyes flashed.
"You'd doom your own people to all of this. To the possibility of being blown up." It was a statement, not a question, and she didn't flinch as automatic gunfire sprayed the container they were hiding behind.
"Gotham is more than buildings and streets; it is the people within that make it a disease. Perhaps even my own." He thought of Talia, but deep down all men were corruptible at a price and the men he had following him were as well. Even if he had been the one to buy their loyalty and lead them to a city they would all kill together.
"Gotham the city might fall, but it will rise again." She said it with a stillness and purpose he had seen in Kathryn, and he knew then he would not learn anything from this woman. He pulled the gag down into her mouth once more and stood from his crouching position, his joints popping.
The gunfire was ceaseless and the men and women of Gotham who had gotten tangled in this war, fought and fought hard, but, nonetheless, poorly. Compared to his trained army they were easy to pick off as they moved, sticking heads out haphazardly to check for targets or checking corners poorly, giving his men an extreme advantage, but he was careful to caution his people to not get cocky.
From the constant influx of new fighters from above, Bane knew deep down they were greatly outnumbered by the people of Gotham. His own men above should have called for help, and even if they hadn't been able to in time, Barsad had set up a check-in point that would be coming up within the hour.
Bane raised his gun and fired two rounds at one of Gotham's defenders attempting to make his way from one container to the next. The man yelled, and the room echoed with the sounds of guns, but the figure made it across the gap alive. Bane glowered as he stepped back behind his own shipping container barrier. Truthfully, he did not enjoy guns; he liked to feel the person be crushed beneath him. He had the brawn and the muscle to take a man down, so it was best to use it. To stay sharp. The pit had taught him you never knew when things could go wrong.
He raised the gun again and moved to find a target, only to pull back to the safety of shelter as an explosion sounded and fire billowed up towards the ceiling.
Barsad cursed somewhere and several of Bane's mercenaries had taken the fiery opportunity to mix up their positions. One was downed, blood pooling from a fatal gunshot wound.
Bane gazed out upon the now fire-ridden spot where the explosion had been. It was a relatively small area and he imagined the explosive was homemade, but it was spreading rapidly, sparks flying. Another eruption and fire billowed in a cloud towards the ceiling. Bane jerked back as gunfire pinged by his head.
Not only were they out numbered, but now if the people of Gotham did not, by some chance, overrun them, the fire would.
Hello everyone! Sorry for the time delay in posting this. My usual beta/proof reader had started school and i couldn't get ahold of him! I actually reached out to a sub forum in one of my chat groups, looking for a beta and ended up meeting the talented Deinvati. Let me tell you they have been most helpful and really helped me clear up some points in this chapter! (Go check out their fanfictions on AO3, they are a brilliant writer. VERY talented!) Thank you so much for Beta reading for me dear!
This chapter took me some time, mostly because i kept deleting and rewriting Katty's dream. I wasn't sure if it fit right, but i finally decided what the heck! I wanted her to be a tad bit haunted by Bane's firsts proposal to be friends. Because i sure would be.. I also had trouble because this chapter and the next were supposed to be only two chapters, but i split them into three... Some bits will be shorter than i planned. But i think it's important for cliff hangers sakes...
Thank you to my lovely reviewer Susie! You caught my OOC moment! I didn't even realize what had happened, and neither did my editor! We just skipped over it! Thank you! I urge all my reviewers to speak up about this. Because i am all game for editing chapters, or even lengthening them to accommodate what you think would be realistic.
There will be more chapters! Don't you fret! If you ever worry that i may be slacking or taking to long you are always welcome to send me questions or asks ( here or on my tumblr). I am NOT a shy person and encouragement, or even the occasional, "you're so slow!" is always helpful to me. :))
I am doing my darndest to try and capture the feelings that had come to light in the last two/three chapters of the original She Rises, i am nervous about it though. There's a lot to wonder about when it comes to what Kathryn wanted for these last chapters... I promise i am trying! ( if you have suggestions or thoughts please feel free to throw ideas at me!).
For those of you who mentioned wanting to pool together writing that was inspired by She Rises, i am SO GAME. Absolutely please! If you have anything lets figure out a way to compile these Fanfictions of this fanfiction! I would just adore reading your own versions of an ending or ficlets or anything! Please i urge you to not be shy! Let's figure out a way to compile and communicate!
Thank you for your patience!
-Diemondgrimm