Chapter Twenty-Eight

Hear My Silence

Malayna's POV

"This is insanity, utter, mindboggling lunacy," he said softly, shaking his head back and forth, as if doing so might help him to make sense of what he was seeing.

I was standing with the Batman, and we were studying the plans that Bane had brought to James Gordon. Well, he was devoting all of his attention to the pages that dictated the whims of a madman, while I was forced to devote only half of my attention to the task at hand, while the other part was taken up by my determination to follow each and every one of his words. I was fairly certain that he didn't hide his mouth from me on purpose, but it would have been nice if he would have made an effort to make things a little easier for me.

"Of course it's a crazy idea," I said, curling my lip in disgust as I pondered the horrors that Bane's father intended to unleash upon humanity. "How could it not be, given the source?"

Batman turned to look at me, and smiled, which surprised me. "Are you referring to the source as Edmund Dorrance, or are we speaking of the ones who originally dreamed this up?"

I returned the smile, and almost laughed when I saw the look of surprise that blossomed upon his face, one which was probably an equal to the one that I was wearing. "Both of them," I verified, "though, in terms of which one has proven themselves historically as the most demented of all, I'd say that we'd have to go with the ones who came up with the idea in the first place, wouldn't you agree?"

I couldn't say when the moment had arrived that we'd decided to lay our animosities aside and joined forces. Maybe it was a conclusion that we'd reached after Gordon chastised us in the backseat of that smelly, ratty tatty cruiser, maybe it was the day after that, when he forced us to work together, perhaps it hadn't really and truly happened until just a few minutes ago, but whatever the reason and whatever the time, I was grateful that we'd decided to get along, if for no other reason than the fact that it made the task that lay ahead of us seem much less daunting.

"Well, those bastards definitely hold a high score for being amongst the most ruthless, cruelest and most sadistic sons of bitches in the history of mankind, not to mention the looniest, so, yeah, I'd have to say that they rank over Dorrance, but how long is that going to last…and what are you going to do if it turns out that Bane has been a willing participant this whole time?"

Oh, help. I don't know why he insisted on bringing all of that up again. Hadn't we made peace with one another, or at least laid the groundwork for doing so? Couldn't he understand that nothing he said or did changed my feelings for Bane, or the fact that I would believe in him, that I would have faith in his determination to be a good man until I drew my last breath?

Goodness…that was certainly melodramatic, wasn't it? I was just glad that I hadn't said it out loud. It wasn't that my sentiments weren't true, because they were, but I could easily imagine what they would sound like to someone like Batman, who loathed Bane with every fiber of his being, and if there was going to be any hope at all for us working together, then it was best that I kept those sorts of things to myself.

"And when do you propose that they approached him?" I asked, careful to keep my voice as calm as I possibly could, which was quite a feat, given the provocation. "Did they come to see him while he was lying comatose in his hospital bed, or perhaps they made their offer while he was working for Talia al Ghûl, a little two for one special for the distortion of his soul, is that was you're suggesting?"

The Batman grew very still beside me, so still that I didn't dare to look at him, but after one minute passed, then two, I couldn't help but look, and to my surprise he was smiling, and that threw me for a loop. I was expecting a glare to be aimed in my direction, one that was paired with fiery anger in his dark eyes, but he hadn't gone that route at all, he was grinning instead, and that scared me just a little bit, though I'd be damned before I'd let him know that.

He started to speak to me, but then he turned away, to look at the table, and I only caught snippets of what he meant to say, and that made me mad. "I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt and assume that it's ignorance on your part, rather than a desire to be rude, that has you behaving this way, but when you turn away while you're speaking, so that I cannot see your mouth, it is the equivalent of you talking behind my back, and I'd prefer that you not do so, please….."

He turned from the table and looked at me, and I was surprised, and pleased, to see that there was genuine contrition in his eyes. "I wasn't trying to be ignorant or rude. I'm sure that's kind of hard for you to believe, all things considered, but it's the truth."

I smiled at him, and nodded, to show him that I believed him. "I can imagine that it's easy to forget that I can't hear, when you take into consideration how much I talk," I said, and the smile on my face grew when I saw that I'd made him laugh. It was moments like these when I really missed Bane, though, if the truth were to be known, I missed him all of the time. I'd always loved to tease him, to see if I could make him smile, or, even better, to make him laugh, and though the Batman was a poor substitution, at best, for my beloved, at least I had someone to share that side of myself with again, until Bane came back to me.

"Would you like to repeat what I missed, now that we've gotten that awkwardness out of the way, or would you prefer to keep it to yourself?" I asked, making my way back toward the table, to immerse myself in the plans once more. "Maybe it would be best, for both of us, if we just let it….."

"I don't want you to think that I'm hiding things from you," he interrupted, concentrating all of his attention on me, which was a little disconcerting. "What I said was that there was nothing that I could say about him that you would consider, that you would defend him, no matter what, and I marveled that anyone could be capable of such devotion, when the one that they love has proven so unworthy in the past."

Ordinarily I would have felt my temper spike at the mention of Bane's past, and the insinuation that I loved him blindly, not to mention foolishly, but that was because the Batman had always shaped his observations and accusations in a mocking fashion, but those inflections weren't in the words that his lips had just formed. I knew that he still didn't understand me, and he certainly didn't approve of the way that I felt and believed, but he was trying to be respectful none the less, and I didn't have the meanness in me that was necessary to berate and belittle him.

"I was never taught to love someone with conditions," I told him, feeling very self-conscious beneath the intensity of his gaze, but holding my eyes steady on his face none the less. "That is why I can't love Bane in that way. I never could have dreamed that I would feel what I do for him, but now that I do, there's no going back. I don't judge him by his past, because he wasn't mine then, and I know that he's sorry for what he did. That was one of the reasons that he agreed to give aid to these monsters, so that he could work against them, and I can't imagine, I won't imagine, what might happen….."

I felt the pulling in my throat that told me that my words were weighed down by a sob, and I grew quiet. I had learned a long time ago to keep my tears to myself, I had been taught, in the cruelest way possible, that those who didn't love you didn't care if they had hurt your feelings. As a matter of fact, it made them happy to know that they'd caused you pain, it made them point at you and laugh, it made them downright ecstatic, which was why it shocked me when the Batman took a step toward me and wrapped his arms around me.

I'd managed to keep a brave face since Bane had gone when I was around those that I considered to be strangers, but I couldn't keep the façade firmly in place at all times. I'd done well with keeping the tears at bay unless I was alone, but the warmth and strength of Batman's embrace reminded me that sometimes a being needed to be held, that sometimes a person needed the comfort and care of their fellow human being, and this was one of those times for me, though I never would have dared to dream that I would find consolation and concern from the Batman.

I could feel his chest rumbling beneath my cheek and knew that he was speaking to me, that he meant to soothe me, even though I couldn't hear his words, and was reminded of all of the times when Bane had sought to do the same. It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him that he shared traits with my beloved, just to rib him a bit, but the truth of the matter was that he wasn't much like Bane at all. He felt so different against me, so much so that it almost felt wrong, criminally so, to allow myself to be held by him, and that was why I pulled away from him, not abruptly, in a way that might insult him, or even hurt his feelings, but slowly, with a hesitant smile…one that faded somewhat when I looked into his eyes and had an epiphany of sorts, one that berated me for not noticing the truth sooner.

"You're not the real Batman, are you?" I asked wonderingly, my suspicions confirmed when I saw his dark eyes widen with disbelief. "I should have seen that in your eyes before now, and in your mouth, but I didn't. I saw what you wanted me to see, but I didn't see everything that was staring me in the face, did I?"

He looked like he was seriously considering denying what we both knew to be true, and he might have done just that, but James Gordon chose that moment to interrupt us, rushing into the room, with a look in his eyes that made my heartbeat stutter a step in its rhythm, then jerkily commence beating, its pace growing furiously, despite the heaviness that had taken root within it.

"He's been taken," he said, training his eyes on me and wincing when he saw me stumble forward and grab hold of the table, in an effort to keep from sinking down to my knees. "They sent a note…and a photo."

There was something in his expression, a warning, one that I suppose he meant for the faux Batman, so that he might keep me back, so that I wouldn't be able to see what had become of my beloved, and I thought it was because he'd been beaten, because he'd been savaged, and I broke free and rushed across the room, nearly tearing the photo from his hands. I glanced at it for a moment, so sure that I was ready for the worst…until the worst stared back at me, through a mask that I despised, and the man that I loved, resting comfortably within a nest of vipers, as if he wanted to be there, as if he belonged there.

Bane's POV

They meant for their attack to be sudden and swift, a mutated and weaponized strain of a deadly disease, contained in a capsule of sorts, all set to be dispatched from this one facility, with destinations all over the world, the largest cities, where the most damage was sure to be done. It was all so tiring, really, and disheartening, not to mention enraging, and all that I could do was watch, and wonder, as they brought their vision to life.

"I never gave much thought to family reunions when I was growing up, truth be told, I did not even know that such a thing existed, but now I know, and I have to be perfectly honest with you, Uncle George, and say that I would have been happy, I would have been blissfully content, to remain ignorant of the custom."

I hated the way that my voice sounded, I loathed the lightheadedness that swamped me from the medication that hissed and swirled through my mask. I despised my newly bald pate and my smooth chest, shorn and shiny, just like my head. It sickened me to know that I looked and sounded exactly like I had the last time that I had taken part in terroristic activities, I would have thought that I was past all of that, but here I was, none the less, as if nothing had changed…as if Malayna had never come into my life.

"I never wanted this for you, Ifan….."

"Do not call me by that wretched name," I growled, curling my hands into fists in a bid to stop myself from curling them around his throat. "That is not my name, curse it all….."

"That is the name that your mother gave you, not your father, not those that feared you, and not those who blindly followed you, chanting that awful moniker in the manner of a prayer. She loved you from the moment that you were conceived, she was the one who wished you to be called Ifan, because that name means Gift of God, and that is what you were to her, that was who you were, and that is why I will call you that, if you please, because the other name holds no meaning for me, other than memories that I would just as soon leave behind."

It was a name that sounded odd to me, it seemed to belong to a stranger, to an imposter, but I could not help but be pleased that my mother had taken the time to name me before she had died. Perhaps my uncle was right, perhaps he was telling the truth, rather than lying to me, whether out of pity or out of kindness, because one would have been just as bad as the other. Maybe there had been someone who had genuinely loved me when I was a child, and I could not help but wonder how differently I might have turned out, had she been there to see me grow, though I did not allow myself to dwell on the notion too long, because I did not need any additional pain, I was already nursing more than my fair share.

"'Gift of God', that is not much to live up to, is it?" I said, chuckling a little while I pondered what the reaction of those who loathed me would be, to know that my mother had bestowed such an inappropriate, in their way of thinking, moniker upon me. "I am flattered, to be sure, that she thought me worthy of such a proclamation, though, I would imagine that she would be disappointed, if she was to see me now, and to know that I failed to live up to her expectations."

He looked across the room, glared, really, to the spot where his brother sat, surrounded by a network of minions clacking away at their computers, and, on the outer circle, by those who shared my father's distorted view of the future. There was disgust on his face; there was an intense hatred that burned so furiously that it seemed paltry to deem it as mere antipathy. I knew that his brother had taken everything away from him, just as he wished to do to me, and I could not help but wonder how far he would go to keep my father's vision from becoming a reality.

"I was given a name which means that I ought to have grown up to be a farmer, and your father was meant to be a rich protector, so it would seem that none of us are what we're meant to be," he said, moving to stand beside me, reaching out, almost touching me on my forearm, then stopping at the last moment. "Eira named you as her gift from God, because that was the way that she felt about you, even before you were born, and your life would have been different with her, which means that you wouldn't have done all that you have, you wouldn't have had to….."

"She loved my father, and he is an evil son of a bitch, so I might not be that much of a disappointment to her after all," I said, moving away from him, to ensure that he would not try to touch me again. "And if I was not what I am, then I never would have found my Malayna, and that is a life that I do not want to ponder, not even for a moment, because it would not be worth living."

I heard him sigh, and he moved, once more, to stand beside me, though, thankfully, he did not repeat his attempt to reach out to me. "She loved Edmund in spite of who he is, of what he is, though I'll never understand why. The important thing that you need to remember is that you are not him, Ifan, you are not even remotely like him, and your mother would be proud, to know that you were willing to risk everything to save everyone. She would be pleased; to know that you were willing to do all that you could, to save those whom your father wishes to destroy…and Malayna will be proud as well."

It hurt my heart to hear her name spoken aloud and know that the chance that I would ever see her again was miniscule, to say the very least. I wished that I could hold her in my arms just one more time, I wanted to kiss her, to make love to her, to tell her about the difference that she had made in my life, in me, to assure her that what we had was real, that it would never die, even if I was to…..

"It sounds as if you have everything all planned out, is that right?" I asked, aiming for a tone that was sarcastic, and finding one that was tired, and more than a little sad, instead. "Would you care to fill me in on what is going to happen, if you would be so kind, because I cannot see where this road leads, other than to the ultimate sacrifice…oh, hell."

I might have known that would be the end of this for me, what right did I have to hope for more than that? I could see the truth in my uncle's eyes, and the more that I thought about it, the more that I realized that there was no other way for us to succeed. I only hoped that I had the courage and the character to do what had to be done once the moment arrived, and I wished that I could see her face, just once more, before my time was up. Surely that was not asking for too much, was it?