Chapter Nine
Standing and leaving the table and a clearly shocked and utterly mortified Sinéad, as well as the other three who had turned their attention to hear his story - his story and his burden - behind. Slamming and locking the door, he turned on the water to hot and tried to burn his face off, only making his skin red and adding to the fire that lived in his bloodstream. He'd long ago closed himself off from any form of relationships, but why did he do this to her? He remembered that day at her apartment when he told her about his hatred for the Batman and Rachel Dawes, and she'd told him that the past couldn't be changed no matter what.
"I don't know the whole story, but whatever happened between you and Evelyn is all in the past. And whoever else treated you wrong, they do not exist anymore. They're either out there living shitty lives or dead and rotting in the goddamn ground. And from what I can tell, you have severe trust issues which came from childhood terror which I know too well, but you don't see me inflicting that on others around me. So you better listen to me real good, Mr. Crane; I'm here to help you, and I'll be doing it on my own with or without Evelyn's help. And if anyone ever tries to pull shit on either of us, they'll answer to me."
He uttered a noise that combined a sob and a laugh. His pride had been bruised enough as it was, and his life had been hard enough. Sinéad Ryan was the only girl ever to treat him, Jonathan Crane, like a person, and her life had been nearly the same as his own if not counting an abusive grandmother; for that he envied her. But she still cares. I should thank her for making me feel better about myself. She was there for me when she rescued me from those three, and she was by my side after the renewal. He remembered how soaked she looked, like the siren she was, and her natural floral perfume reaching his nose mingled with the fresh rainwater, and it kindled a feeling he knew he hadn't felt in a long time since he was a teenager caught doing something he shouldn't be doing.
He paused there, blinking there, staring at the man in the reflection. The bags beneath his eyes were gone, his skin getting more color to the cheeks, and his wild raven hair now shining and naturally so, unlike it had been as of late. No longer the ill-appearing man in the plain clothes that fit him and not his self - now he wore a light blue collared shirt and tight jeans to half-reflect who he was - he was beginning to change for the better because of one woman who ignited his spirit in a short amount of time. A woman who was really another being like he, even if their hobbies and elements differed. Art and fear, one innocent and the other not, but both full of creativity. Water versus fire, but still balancing the universe.
There was a knock on his door, and Jonathan knew it was her. He opened the door and found himself staring down into her soft green eyes. Like the fields of Ireland. Set against a field of snow white, with a dainty nose and pale pink lips narrower than his, framed by hair black as a raven's wing, like his, spiraling over both shoulders. Her crisp white blouse was untucked over tight khakis, and it was...sexy. That word was never his to use, but it was true. He gave her a small smile. "I know why you're here, and I'm not going to shut you out anymore," he promised.
Sinéad smiled back. "Good," she said softly before leaning up and giving him a small peck on the mouth, stunning him instantly. So soft, so warm...
~o~
Egypt was one of the many dreams for tourists, with its ancient history and mythologies, as well as the iconic Giza Pyramid and its Great Sphinx; the ruins known were Memphis, Thebes, Karnak, and the Valley of the Kings. All of which remains a significant focus of archaeological study, Bruce thought as he descended the stairs from the train with his companions. It was like stepping into the pages of a book; he was the hero with his closest friends and comrades by his side.
The journey through the desert by train to the beginning of the Western Desert where the whole lands of ruins existed had taken a day, and the rest by horses would be a maximum of five, six days. Upon this news broken to the rest, Rachel once again protested. "We'll never make it in time."
"Don't give up on our son now," Bruce admonished her as he mounted his horse after helping her onto hers. Hers was a magnificent brown mare, and his was a bold black stallion. Jonathan had a honey-colored one nearly matching a camel, Sinéad a brown-and-cream one, and Anna a soft cream one with mild brown spots. "We've come prepared for this, and the whole world depends on us."
They had to stop at night somewhere in the desert for rest before moving on, and it would be that way just to ensure they didn't waste precious energy in their rescue mission. They didn't set up any tents, but their horses were tied together and to a large rock on the land that just happened to be there when luck favored them. Ramirez took her place as the "human watch dog" while slipping in between sleep moments of her own for the night. Bruce noticed how Jonathan and Sinéad had gotten a bit closer to each other since the flight. He assumed they'd been that way before all this, but knowing a man like Jonathan Crane would have severe trust issues with people, he'd have thought the blue-eyed man would sneer and shove the girl away. Somehow she healed him. Arkham clearly didn't do anything to help him, and she did.
He noticed this even more as they shared the same sleeping bag together, Jonathan spooning behind her and holding her close, then she turned over to snuggle into him. He thought it cute but weird at the same time. He heard the man's story regarding his grandmother who abused him and began to feel sorry for him a little.
Bruce moved over to where Rachel lay, her back facing him. She'd laid down the moment their sleeping spot was set up and hadn't once said another word to him. The Rachel he remembered used to open her mouth about everything, but now that Damien was in the picture, she began to distance herself more and more. She was a mother worried sick for her child. Bruce sighed and slipped beneath the covers, scooping up behind her and holding her close, inhaling the musky flowers on her skin. She moaned but didn't wake. He wondered what she was dreaming about, wondered if it was good or bad.
~o~
The noises she hears upon awaking are that of voices. Lifting her head, she sees that she is in a bar that she remembers coming to early in her years as ADA, just for a couple drinks after work before retiring home. However, it baffles her. How did I get here? she wonders as she looks around and notices she's still wearing the clothes she wore in the desert. The bar is mostly empty, save for herself and the person beside her.
Looking at the stranger more closely, Rachel notices that it is a woman, with long dark hair and wearing a violet-colored knit dress and staring down at her drink, a shot of bourbon. Why was a woman like her doing in a place like this? Didn't she have a family or a home to go to...?
And then Rachel's eyes fall to the two rings on her left hand, facing her direction. She knows those rings even though she hasn't seen them for years; a classically styled white gold duo with a brilliant center diamond and intricately engraved details. And then her gaze travels up north to the woman's face, where she finally sees the dark curtain fall away to show a visage she hasn't seen for eight years. "Mom?" she whispers, getting no response. She tries again. "Mom?"
She was being ignored, and it angers her, but then it dawns on her that she has to be dreaming. Nobody else pays attention to her, not even the bartender who is busy with closing up for the night.
A second voice enters the dense atmosphere; it is a voice she also remembers all too well after six years, when she'd seen the face only once. "Not good to have a drink alone, is it?"
Her mother, once named Lena, turns her attention to her right where the man in black, with handsome aristocratic features and a mustache, was smiling at her. Rachel can't see her face, but can tell from her tone of voice that she agrees with him. "No, not when you've just lost your husband." She has to be drunk, because Rachel does not ever recall her mother being one to go off with some random stranger she only just met.
Even when the stranger is Ra's al Ghul. Bruce's mentor before he turned out to be the opposite of what the Wayne heir aimed for the city. Rachel is beginning to get the chills in her bones. Seeing her mother's rings, she is back to baffled. She never knew her father, having been told he died before she was born, and now that she sees in this...dream, or vision, her mother telling a younger Ra's al Ghul that she'd just lost her husband. A thought crosses her mind. If Dad is dead, then why is she drinking when she's pregnant?
"Husband? Ah, I give you my sympathies, Mrs...?"
"Dawes. Lena Dawes. Whoever would you be?" she asks curiously, loosening her fingers on her glass.
"My name is merely Henri Ducard." The name he used to disguise his true identity and left his true name for a decoy Bruce had seen die. "You don't know me, yes, but I suffered a loss recently myself. My wife, my great love, was taken from me, as well. I know what it is like to lose someone you love." He looks at Lena in a way that makes Rachel cringe, and the horrible realization worse than it already is. "Forgive me if I'm being too straightforward, but is there any way I can convince you to join me for a private drink of our own to mourn our lost loves?" He looks at her closely. "Or are there any children awaiting for your return?"
Lena shakes her head, and her dreaming daughter knows she isn't lying; her mother never lied in her life. "No children. I wish I had, to hold a last piece of him." She stands upon accepting his hand and allowing him to lead her out the door.
Rachel watches them go, her gut clenching tighter and tighter until she is unable to breathe anymore, and prays she awakes screaming in Bruce's arms, too afraid to tell him at first until she forces herself to only for the sake of getting it out into the open...
~o~
Talia smirked as she sensed the unsteady waves of panic through the air. It worked, and satisfaction coursed her veins as she stared down at the perfectly preserved body of her father wrapped in white and waiting patiently as it had been for six years. Recovered from the wreckage of the Wayne Enterprises monorail with whatever left her spies survived Fear Night, Ra's al Ghul's corpse had quickly been whisked out of the city and to her secret quarters in Spain for a year until word that the Batman had taken the fall for the death of Harvey Dent. And Rachel Dawes believed dead by the rest of the world save for the Hispanic wench who rode her tail long enough.
Talia hissed. To think that she had a half-sister like the meddlesome assistant district attorney who had been the love of Bruce Wayne's life, the mother of the son of the man who murdered her father. It sickened her, and when the time came, revenge would be sweeter than the finest sugar of the planet. She would never be ashamed or regret it ever.
~o~
Bruce was shocked, as anticipated, as she told him her dream. Jonathan and Sinéad were still asleep by the time she told her lover and Anna her dream - or rather, a flashback she never knew about until now, and had no idea why now or how, not that the latter mattered. Ra's al Ghul is my father...WAS my father. He and my mother, after her real husband died whom I'd thought was the man who made me...God damn it all to hell.
"Rachel, I don't know what to say..." Bruce said, sounding just as lost as she was.
"That makes us both," she said, leaning her head backwards against the rock. "It was a memory of a life before I even existed. It makes sense now, but it also makes me sick." Her stomach rumbled for emphasis. "My father is the man who tried to destroy Gotham, he tried taking you under his wing, and now he has our son. His grandson." She leaned her head back forward to put her forehead in both hands in despair. Bruce's strong hands came to rest on her back and pulled her closer.
Anna's voice ended the agonizing moment with more of her words of wisdom. "I agree that it's horrible to know, but look at the bright side, the both of you. Bruce, you were literally destined to be with this woman, birthed by the man who taught you and you turned on for a good cause."
She silently agreed with her, but Bruce sounded more disbelieved. "Right, Ramirez. She's the daughter of the Demonhead, and I'm the Dark Knight who grew up with her and was trained by her father, a man I thought was good until he showed me his true colors."
"And your son is the leverage for his resurrection, possibly his next heir to his line instead of you. And his mother, the daughter of the Demonhead, sacrificed for his rebirth and the rise of his army. Three sides of the pyramid. This was preordained thousands of years ago."
"And the story ends tragic as all great tales," Rachel stated dully and feeling her hearing vanish, even though she heard what Anna said correctly.
"Only the journey's written, not the destination. And this wasn't coincidence, either, with your reunion and those two involved in this," she added with a glance to the sleeping couple in the short distance. "There is always a fine line between coincidence and fate."
I always thought it was vital that Rachel be tied to Ra's and Talia somehow, and it had been a real challenge as to how to bring that to life - and then it hit me: what if she was his DAUGHTER, therefore marking her as Talia's half-sister? And it had to happen after his exile but before he reunited with Talia.