I can not apologize enough to you guys. I could give you a million and one excuses about why this wasn't up earlier but I'm not going to because I know you'd rather read the story. All I can say is that life got in the way. You can't imagine how good it feels to be writing again and how much it means to me that you guys review and are so encouraging. Without you guys, I don't know if I would have ever had the determination to post this! So, THANK YOU! Please tell me what you guys think of this chapter, constructive criticism and advice is encouraged and appreciated! This is the most Bane Pov I have ever written and this is also one of my longest chapters! So, please enjoy the story :) Here's chapter fourteen.
For some time, I'm unsure of how exactly long it was, I sat on the floor, tears drying on my cheeks, fighting the dark thoughts that threatened to consume my logical mind. My breathing weasy and labored. Heart racing, rational thoughts warring with age-old survival instincts. Finally, when the pressure in my chest became too much, I stood on shaking legs that screamed in protest. Obviously I had knelt on the floor far longer than was strictly comfortable.
I wasn't going to sit idly by and wait for the Joker to come to me. I wasn't some damsel in distress. If he comes for me, and I know he will, I'm going to make it as hard as possible for him to take me. I refuse to go down without a fight.
I marched my way to the kitchen, determination burning bright inside of me. Once there, I started my mission of opening and slamming each and every drawer and cupboard, searching for knives. For a moment I consider sliding one of the razor-sharp weapons inside the long sleeves of my shirt but decide against it. It was unlikely I would be able to use the weapon as effectively as the Joker and it was extremely likely that the knife would end up in the clown's hands. He doesn't need anymore knives than he already has.
Once I had found all of the deadly instruments, (butter knives included, I remember the man with the pencil sticking out of his forehead. I'm not taking any chances.) I let me fingers drum against the counter-top, debating on what to do with them. As I looked absently around the room, my eyes landed on the wall of windows. Plan finally forming, I turned and searched the kitchen once more, practically leaping for joy when I found what I sought. I took the cloth bag and stuffed the knives into it and then walked across the living room to the windows. I opened one, swinging the bag of weapons in my hand and then launching it clear into the sky and on top of the roof of another building.
Even thought the house was now devoid of any knives, my breath was still labored and coming in pants. I tried to take a deep breath and calm myself but nothing was working. Suddenly unable to bear a minute longer of being out in the open, exposed, I dashed out of the living room and into the hallway, heading for the bedroom. I heard the pitter patter of Max's paws following me. I walked into the closet and grabbed a hold of a towel, then swiveled on my heel and marched to the bathroom, making sure the bedroom door was closed and Max was safely inside its walls.
I cranked the shower head to the hottest setting and started to peel of my clothes, the steam already filling the room. I hopped in the shower, trying to let the steady beat of water on my back calm me. If I was calm, then I could think rationally. And if I could think rationally, then maybe, just maybe, I had a chance against the Joker.
A violent shiver racked my spine at even the thought of the crazy clown's name. I took a few deep breaths and urged myself to push past the fear and to think. For a few minutes I considered barricading myself and Max in the bedroom. That way if the Joker came he'd have to fight his way in, saving me time to do well to do something! And if that slowed him down enough then maybe Bane would be back by then and-
"No!" I thought violently, not realizing I'd spoken aloud until my voice echoed in the tiled bathroom. I couldn't depend on Bane to save me, I couldn't depend on him to protect me. I couldn't put my life in anyone's hands but my own. So barricading the door wasn't an option. I hadn't liked the idea anyway, it made me a sitting duck, a victim, an easy target. I'm not helpless and if he wants to take me, it's not gonna be easy.
I stepped out of the shower, drying myself off, and then faced the mirror. I cleared the fog away with my towel and stared into the blue eyes of the girl in the mirror. She didn't look like me anymore. She was thinner, not shockingly so, but it was there. Her hair was longer than it had ever been before, past her shoulders now. But the biggest difference was her eyes. They looked sunken in and bright red from all the crying she'd done. But other than that, they looked haunted, afraid. Deathly afraid. But then I watched as her eyes, my eyes, narrowed and sparkled with determination and anger. That despicable excuse of a human being wasn't going to get the best of me ever again, not if I could help it.
I walked back into the closest and picked out a pair of comfy, stretchy jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt. Then I walked to the bedroom door, turning back to look at Max.
"Stay here, boy, and stay quiet. No matter what you hear." I said around the knot forming in my throat. I knew that he couldn't understand what I'd said but I knew that the Joker would kill Maximus if I gave him the chance. I couldn't bear the thought of Max's eyes going lifeless and dark, his body going limp, the hunched form of the Joker leaning above him, eyes alight in maniacal glee. I shook my head, scattering the disturbing images. I set my shoulders and headed to Bane's study.
Once inside, I set my hands on my hips and pursed my lips. I looked at the sleeve of my shirt critically and then back at the bookshelves lined with Bane's medicine. A good plan finally forming, I rummaged through the desks drawers and found what I was looking for. An empty syringe. With the syringe in one hand, I reached up on my tiptoes, my fingers barely grasping the vile of medicine, and brought it down from the top book shelf. Then, I very carefully and meticulously emptied the vile's contents into the syringe and slid it beneath the loose sleeve of my t-shirt.
When the Joker grabbed me to forcefully take me away, and that's what would happen because I wasn't going down without a fight, I would stab the syringe into his neck. The concoction of medicine, I knew, would be a lethal dose to someone who didn't need it. For a moment I was disturbed that my medical education could be used to kill a man. Until I remembered who that man was and what he'd done, and then I just felt numb. Then I headed into the living room and dropped onto the couch.
With the syringe a comfortable weight against my wrist, I did the only thing I could do against the evil that awaited me.
I waited for it.
Bane POV
I felt the adrenaline rushing through my veins as Barsard and I drove to the Narrows, where my men had fought against the escaped inmates of Arkham. I could not wait to wrap my arms around the man who had hurt Abigail. I could not wait to watch the light of life leave his eyes as I crushed his windpipe. But despite the fact that I knew I had had to leave Abigail behind to protect her, I couldn't get the image of her on her hands and knees, sobbing, begging, pleading, out of my mind.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Barsard fidgeting.
"You said the Joker was sighted?"
"Yes, sir, but-" I cut him off.
"And the rest of the inmates have been detained or killed?" I inquired.
"Yes, sir, but-" He tried again but I cut him off once more.
"Have they been questioned yet?" I asked, my voice dipping low, the blood lust unmistakable even to me.
"No, sir." Barsard answered slowly caught up in his own thoughts now as he effortlessly maneuvered the car through winding streets and sharp corners. He opened his mouth once more as the car slowed to a stop and was put in park.
"Sir, this Joker," He swallowed hard. "He will come for Abby." And then Barsard looked straight into my eyes, his blue swimming with brotherly concern for the woman who had slowly but surely made herself the center of my universe.
"Not if I come for him first." I answered darkly, slamming the car door shut.
Outside, the streets were covered in bodies, prisoners and my men alike. We picked our way through our fallen comrades and our enemies and reached the building that had become a temporary sort of head quarters.
We we're meant at the lobby by two of our brothers in arms who promptly told us what had happened in Barsard's absence.
"The rest of the inmates that aren't lying in the street are being guarded by the rest of the men. We were able to interrogate some of the wounded and figure out who was behind this break out."
The other man took up the explanation from there.
"There's an inmate waiting in a room for you sir. As far as we can figure, he's pretty up there in the impromptu chain of command they have. We thought you'd like the pleasure of questioning him yourself, sir." I nodded very slowly.
"Good work, brothers. We will handle it from here." As we walked away, the first man who had spoken called out.
"Sir-" He started and then stopped, licking his lips nervously. " Sir, the men that we questioned, when asked about the Joker, well they all said the same thing. They talked about how the clown ranted and raved about a 'pretty little girlie with skin like butter' that had escaped him. They also told us that the clown had a visitor before the breakout, but they wouldn't tell us who." He gulped again and that's when I saw it, the man wasn't a man, he was barely a boy, sixteen or seventeen at most. I didn't know how I felt about that. But I knew that my urge to kill the clown was as strong as ever. I knew I would not rest until his blood was on my hands.
As we walked away from the men, Barsard's panicked eyes meant mine.
"Sir, he got away! He got away and we know now for sure that he's gone after Abby!" I turned to Barsard, struck at how much he cared for Abigail.
"How will he know where she is? We have time yet my friend. But at this moment, I not only want answers but need them." And then we walked into the room where the prisoner was being held.
The man had been hunched over, bent in on himself, but when he heard the door open his head snapped up so quickly, it cracked. His eyes were a deep, soulless brown and he had limp carrot colored hair.
"Do you know who I am?" I asked him quietly, menacingly. He shrugged, eyes wide and lips pressed together.
"He promised me!" He suddenly exploded. "That stupid side-show freak promised! He promised that he'd tell me who the Batman was if I helped him rally the rest of the inmates to fight! He promised!" The man wailed again, spittle flying from his mouth as his chest heaved. I waited a moment for the man to calm down and then spoke very carefully.
"What if I told you that I knew who the Batman was? And what if I told you that all you had to do was answer my questions and I would tell you who he is?" The man's eyes became wide in wonder and he started to nod but stopped himself.
"I'd say you're lying!" He snarled, teeth snapping.
"Well,we'll see about that." I said calmly, crossing my arms before speaking once more. "How did you escape the asylum?"
The man cocked his head and finally seemed to make a decision, nodding slowly and licking his lips.
"We had outside help. Ya see the Joker," He practically hissed the name. "had a little chickee visit him a few days past. My cell was right next to his. She was ranting and raving about some cleansing fire and the Joker said all he wanted was that tight piece o'-" I cut the man off, my hand wrapped firmly around his neck as I slammed him against the wall. No one would speak of Abigail in such a derogatory way, not if I was there to stop it.
"His words! Not mine!" He wheezed out, trying desperately, and failing, to draw oxygen into his lungs. Finally, when his eyes started to roll, I let him go. My mind was racing. He had said a cleansing fire. The visitor had been a woman. It felt as if the world was closing in on me. No, Talia wouldn't. My mind cleared when a painful shout echoed through the room. Barsard was leaning over the man, leg bent to strike the prisoner in the gut again.
"I said, what did she look like?" I had never heard Barsard speak so coldly before, so angry. His care for Abigail and his anger at her being in danger was a living breathing thing all its own.
"Jeez, man! She was average height, brown hair above shoulder length, brown eyes, and if you ask me she belonged in a cell like the rest of us crazies. She knew exactly where the Joker's girl was." Then the man turned his soulless eyes on me. "Do you know who I am? Who I was? I was the Riddler! People used to fear me! Me! Until that stupid Bat came along..." I drowned him out, not particularly caring who or what he had been. All I cared about was Talia's betrayal. The feeling that someone had shoved a hot poker between my ribs and twisted. I meant Barsard's eyes and saw the despair in their depths, the brotherly love her carried for Abigail. We hurried out of the room and into the lobby once more. I turned to Barsard.
"Kill them. Kill them all." I hissed harshly. "I'm going back." Barsard nodded, the cold glint in his eyes back.
"And if you're too late sir?" I stepped back as if slapped, my fists clenching and unclenching, yearning for a windpipe to crush.
"Then I'll hunt him, and I'll save her." Then I was turning and rushing out the building's doors, thinking how ironic it was that I was desperately trying to save someone while all my life I had only ever killed. My footsteps were joined by a symphony of screams and echoeing bullets. But I didn't care. I didn't care about anything but my little one and the way she had cried, screamed, begged, for me to stay and how I had walked away. And how walking away may have delivered her into the hands of a man who would show her no mercy.
I stepped on the gas pedal of the car, fearing I was too late already.
Abby's POV
The apartment was slowly descending into darkness and if it weren't for the eery silence, I never would have heard the ding of the elevator. Or the heavy, dragging footsteps that were all too familiar. But, surprisingly, they were accompanied by lighter footsteps. My heart started beating double time. I hadn't planned for the Joker to come with a partner.
And that's when it clicked. Quite literally. For the amount of time it took for my mind to connect the dots, the door was being jimmied and slowly, creepily opened.
I should have realized the Joker couldn't find me all on his own. He would have needed outside help. Someone who knew how to get to me, who had the means to go into Arkham without being questioned and who had the means to get the Joker out. Someone who had no love for me. Someone who was standing next to my worst nightmare in the soft glow of artificial light spilling in from the hall.
Talia al Ghul.
I felt rage and fear war with each other inside of me. Fear for the obvious reasons. But rage at the betrayel Talia was showing Bane. After all he had done for that woman, she had the audacity to betray him. I hated to admit it but it was all a very well thought out plan. The breakout. The diversion. The actual smuggling of the Joker into the building. Then the monster spoke.
"Did ya miss me darlin'?" He snickered, stepping into the foyer, flipping the light on. Talia followed at a slower pace, like a lioness stalking her prey. I stood from the couch and stepped in the center of the living room, placing the recliner between the clown and me. The Joker stopped short and tsked.
"Commmee onn! Don't be that way darlin'. I told you I was coming back for ya!" He flicked his tongue at his teeth and then licked his lips. I shuddered in revulsion, fear clawing its clammy hands up my spine.
"We had a deal! Stop playing with her! Take her and leave." Talia said dispassionately but firmly. The Joker made a face at me, one that would have been comical coming from anyone else, and turned to face Talia.
"I could just a cut you a upa!" He snarled and for a horrible moment, I almost wished he would cut her open, gut her like a fish. It wasn't like she didn't deserve that and much worse. Talia grinned cooly.
"You would be on the floor, a foot on your throat, before you'd even moved." She smiled sweetly and I couldn't believe the shaky comfortablity they had with each other. Maybe psychopaths actually kept the company of other psychos and worst of all, maybe they enjoyed it. I swallowed thickly when the Joker turned back to me, his Glasgow smile redder than blood. He took a step closer and despite what I told myself, to hold my ground, I took a shaky step back.
One step forward, two steps back.
One forward, two back.
We engaged in this awkward dance until I was backed up against the wall with no place to go except his arms. And that wasn't going to happen. I set my feet shoulder width apart and held up my hands in fists.
"Don't come near me!" I was shocked to find my voice was steady and strong. It only made the Joker grin in delight, his grin more of a grimace. He licked his lips like a serpent.
"Didn't I tell ya before darlin'? I likke it when ya fight me!" And then he pounced and I threw all of my strength into the punch. I felt my knuckles slam into his jaw and felt his neck snap back. But somehow, his arms had still managed to wrap around my middle and no matter how much or how hard I struggled I couldn't shake him. I even bit into the pale skin of his forearm. But to no anvil. And then he spoke in that demonic voice he had used in the video where he had killed the Batman copycat. It chilled my blood, made shivers rack my spine.
"I said stop MOVING!" He roared. "I was gonna have fun with ya honey but I'll cut ya upa right now if you don't stop moving." I instantly stopped squirming when I felt the cool metal of a blade against the delicate skin of my neck. That was also the moment I felt the coolness of the syringe on my wrist. I knew that if I was going to act it had to be quickly. I couldn't hesitate. I waited a few moments as the Joker carded his hands through my hair at the nape of my neck. His nose skimming the scar on my neck from our last meeting until his lips meant it. His slimy tongue flicked out to run over the rigid skin and I lost it. With a cry, I slammed my foot onto his toes, elbowed him in the solar plexus and then let the syringe drop into my hand. I set the needle to his neck and was about to plunge the deadly medicine into his tendon when, suddenly, I was grabbed from behind.
I kicked and screamed. I scratched at her arms and snapped my jaws. Trying to remove Talia's hands from my person. But she was trained and I wasn't and no matter what I did I couldn't escape. I felt fear start to claw its way past the anger and disgust. I watched in rising horror as the Joker slowly stood. My struggling intensified. Each of his words was punctuated with a step.
"That." step "wasn't." step. "very." step. "nice." He leaned down and breathed into my face. "Time to start playin the game darlin'." His hand cocked backwards. I clenched my eyes shut as tightly as I possibly could, bracing myself against the coming pain.
Then, darkness. Absolute, blessed, darkness that came up like a wave, washing away the suffocating fear and replacing it with blackness.
Bane POV
I reached the building as quickly as possible, not even waiting for the car to stop before getting out. I rushed past my men, ignoring their questioning gazes. I skipped the elevator, unable to wait, and took the stairs three at a time. I rushed down the hallway and too impatient to unlock the door, kicked it in instead. I looked frantically around the room and searched for any sign of Abigail.
I saw something on the ground in the living room and stepped forward to grab it when I heard desperate scratching from the hallway and high-pitched whines. I rushed down the hall and pushed open the bedroom door, praying to any god that would listen that it was Abigail. But it was only Maximus, who shot out of the room like lightning, and barreled down the hallway into the living room. I followed, my feet dragging, my soul heavy with what I knew had become of Abigail. That she had been taken from me.
I kneeled in the living room, scooping the object into my hand. Up close, I realized what it was. A syringe filled with my medicine. I felt anger burn through my veins. She had tried to defend herself and he had taken her. He had undoubtedly hurt her, was hurting her at this very moment. And I wasn't there to stop it.
My fingers tightened around the syringe, the glass straining. I looked out into the wall of windows.
"I'm going to find you. I'm going to find you little one. I promise." I whispered, not even realizing I was crying until I tasted salt at the corner of my lips.
The Joker would pay. Talia would pay. They would all pay.
They could beg for mercy when I found them, but it would do no good. I wasn't a hero. No, I was a hell hound.
And I had caught the scent, the trail of my prey and now it was time to hunt.