Disclaimer: I do not own any recognizable DC characters.
Bane had brought her to the Court House again. She was really starting to resent this place. It was more crowded than usual today. A woman with a filthy face dressed in rags was perched at the bottom of Crane's mountain. She cackled seemingly at random, flashing the few teeth she had sparsely set in her head. Occasionally she would grab a book at random, tear its pages out and take to laughing hysterically again. There were others similar to her scattered around the room. Some were muttering to themselves in corners while others were more violent and jumped at people, yelling in their face or tearing at their clothes. One thing they had in common though is that they seemed to gravitate to Crane, wandering the room but always ending up at the base of his throne.
"He's done something to control them," she said to Bane. He was far from her friend, but while Bane was unpredictable, she had heard what Crane's toxin had done to the Narrows and she didn't care to see it in person. If he managed to overthrow Bane, death would be the least of her worries.
Bane made no sign that he heard her, but she knew that he did. The next time she visited the Court House, there were no crazies and Crane looked terribly sullen. Perhaps Bane trusted her more than she had originally thought.
"May I be so bold as to ask why we're here? Am I supposed to do something?" They had simply stood around for a good hour now. Her ankle was still sore and she did her best to keep her weight off it.
Bane glanced at her, his eyes travelling to her feet, but not saying a word. Those sentenced to death were no longer shot right on the spot but instead gathered and taken outside. Perhaps those cleaning up the mess had been killed too.
They remained at the Court House for another two hours – during which time Amy had been pounced twice by the insane man who lurked nearby - before Bane shed off his statue impression and nodded to Barsad, who stood across the room.
"Come," he said before taking off at a brisk pace towards the doors. Trailing behind Amy only hoped that she would get to sit down soon.
A black car that looked faintly like it belonged to the army was waiting for them outside. Bane opened the back door and motioned her in while he went over to one of his men. Glad for the chance to be off her feet she slipped in. Amy was surprised to see that the backseat was separated from the front by a black barrier, like that in a limo. She wondered on which side of it the secrets were being kept.
A few minutes later Bane got in beside her, shortly followed by Barsad getting in the opposite door. As soon as he shut his door she felt the vehicle take off. The windows were tinted and both men were large enough to block a majority of it so Amy was stuck staring straight ahead at the barrier. She didn't dare question Bane now, in front of his follower, because she knew that he would have to punish her to demonstrate his control. Her curiosity would have to wait until later.
They travelled for no more than fifteen minutes, when the car stopped and Bane made to get out. "You are going to the apartment. If you choose to leave, Barsad will go with you. You must return by sun down." With that he was out the door and heading to an unknown destination.
When the car started driving again she scooted away from Barsad and the oddly euphoric smile he was giving her. It was true what they said about killing them with kindness.
Once they had gotten to the apartment – Barsad ghosting behind her like a shadow the entire time – Amy gathered up the kitten before heading straight to her room and shutting the door in Barsad's face.
"I'm changing," she called through it hoping that he could respect that.
"You have five minutes before I am coming in, sugar," he called back. His accent made the ending of the endearment sound like a grrr, which made her skin goose bump.
Holding the kitten close, Amy sighed and released her hair from its various pins and ties.
Bane, Barsad and her continued in a similar pattern for several weeks. She stayed living in the apartment, falling into a sort of rhythm. The visits to the Court House were a little longer each time, until she was spending entire days there. She slowly started recognizing familiar faces, people who were there nearly as often as she was, apparently very enthusiastic about participating in the reconstruction of Gotham by its people. Knowing the end that they were going to meet when the bomb went off made Amy want to retch.
Over the weeks her injuries had healed and Hope had grown from a soft, fluffy kitten into an equally soft but newly sassy cat. He even went so far as to swipe at Bane with a furry paw when the latter ignored his pleas for a petting. To her surprise, Bane indulged the cat. It almost felt like being an outsider, watching their easy, amicable relationship.
When she asked him, Bane allowed Amy an hour to go free for lunch, of course accompanied by the ever mirthful Barsad. She often spent this time, and any other free time she had, at the bridal salon. The first time Barsad came there with her he had searched every nook and cranny, sending several women running out, before retreating to just inside the front door. Several days later Amy went to find a dress in a back room and discovered that the back door had been not only barricaded but also bent out of shape so that there was no way it was going to open. No wonder Barsad had seemed so content to guard only the front entrance.
When she didn't venture to the bridal salon because of weather or general exhaustion, she ate a lunch provided by one of Bane's men at the Court House. She made polite conversation with the people there, and found that Bane had been right. The people respected her and trusted her and were always eager to hear what she had to say, what plans she could provide them with. But all she could offer them were empty words of sympathy and encouragement to stay calm. Nevertheless, they quieted the scared Gothamites and it was only a short time before the rebellions stopped. That made Amy feel all the worse.
In trusting her, they trusted Bane too, and Amy wanted nothing more than to scream at them that they were very, very wrong in doing so. But she couldn't, because she had no help to give them to survive a fight against Bane. Yet even as she grew more desperate, she harbored no new resentment for Bane. As she grew to know him more, it was clear that while Bane was the mastermind who planned this whole thing, someone else was the motivation.
It was late evening, the end of December, when Amy found herself volunteering to stay behind and clean up the bridal salon. Bane had allowed her to leave the Court House early that day and after several days of snow storms, Amy was glad to be back. She didn't keep close track of the days but she knew that it was somewhere between Christmas and New Year's. She had been allowed regular visits to her own apartment and had scavenged around on her last visit for presents for Cassidy and Lauren. She had found an old book between the pages of which she had hidden several flowers, dried and flattened. She had given one to each woman, and had received a rarely seen chocolate bar and beautiful, thin, silk headband in return. As far as the holidays went, this was probably the saddest ones Amy had ever experienced, but they were still warming in their simplicity.
Once she was finished tidying the large space, Amy wandered aimlessly through the racks, pulling out dresses and admiring them with a purely girly enjoyment. She came upon one dress that made her breath catch, a beautiful A-line gown of white lace with a neat silk belt, and in a sudden whirl of fancy she decided to try it on. It fit her like a glove, and when she added the head band, she sparkled like a true bride. She stood on one of the podiums looking at herself in the mirror when she saw a dark shape of a man behind her. She was about to call out to Barsad that she'd be ready to go in a second when she realised that it was Bane.
He stood far enough that she couldn't quite make out his face in the reflection but he was clearly watching her. She doubted he had anything but scorn for her antics. He approached her slowly, and she saw that look of vulnerable, confusion on his face. Despite her better judgement she found herself stepping of the podium and meeting him half way. They stood like that in a comfortable silence, her shining pure and innocent in white, him dusty and brutal in black. A strange pair they made.
"You have lingered here long," he commented, his voice soft, and she knew that he could feel the fragility of the moment, the opening of doors, as she could.
"I had to clean up," she answered. There was a long pause, neither breaking the silence.
"You wish to get married, little angel?" She hadn't thought about it really, had just been trying on a pretty dress.
"It would be nice, to have something like that," she replied honestly. She had definitely imagined herself getting married one day, perhaps even having children. He walked closer to the mirrors in front of the podium. She followed close behind and stood just to the left of him.
"What would he be like, this man you would marry?" he questioned. His voice was low and almost sad, his eyes unreadable.
"He'd be like you," Amy said almost immediately, realising with a jolt that the words were true. Bane turned to her, his eyebrows raised in surprise. "You have a determination and loyalty I admire. Perhaps in another life, you would have made a woman very happy."
He continued to gaze at her, his eyes unwavering. She stared right back.
He reached into his pocket and produced a slender piece of material, most likely leather, thinned into a string. On it hung a tiny, wooden figurine, no bigger than half her pinky.
He moved to stand behind her and carefully, as if frightened that she might bolt, lowered it around her head until it rested just below her collar bone, the leather cord warm against her skin. Amy gently touched the figurine. It was somewhat crude, and obviously hand carved. It had tiny wings and was holding an animal of some kind, a cat perhaps.
"It's beautiful," she whispered. He did not reply. Instead, he remained where he was, his breath warm on the back of her neck. It was a confusing and ethereal moment broken only by the realization that it was time to leave and return to playing their assigned roles once again.
Author`s Note: I cannot even begin to apologize for this ridiculously long absence. I can make zero promises about updates. This chapter is a little short, but it`s more of a fast forward sort of thing because I really want to finish this story because I know how much it sucks to have a story left incomplete. Reviews are always, always wanted!