A/N: I am so excited for you all to read this! I pumped a lot of emotion into this chapter and please leave me a review to let me know what you all feel about this!
Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the DC Universe including Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Ra's al Ghand and Talia al Ghul.
Resurrection
The Pinnacle of Her Rage
Once again stuck between consciousness and the opposite, Anastasia had a strange dream that contained various people from her past and present, all shoved into a classroom at her school. Standing at the front of the room, in front of a blackboard, was her grandfather, the Batman, and Ra's al Ghul along with his daughter, Talia. Scribbled across the board was denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance—all of them being the five stages of grief that she had gone over with a child psychologist about a month after Karina had been murdered. On each side of her, holding her hands, were both Bruce and Dick and behind her was Alfred, his hand on her shoulder.
When the teenager glanced back toward the front, there were no more people to guide her. All that had been left behind was the corpse of her sister, bullet wound in the middle of her forehead, taunting the older sister. And when she could no longer stand looking at Karina, she looked up and into the full-length mirror standing before her and stared down the dual reflection. The same person, but the reflection of Anastasia seemed to be split into halves, one side wearing the suit she had worn during the duration of her training with Talia in and the other side wearing something she had never seen before. It was a suit like something she imagined she would wear if she had become a vigilante, a superhero like Batman and Robin.
The dream never made it past that strange point, but during her battle to remain awake through a drug that still lingered inside her, she was sure she understood what her subconscious was attempting to tell her. It seemed simple enough, to be honest.
The time was coming and she had to make a decision. Would she remain under Ra's al Ghul, become a murderer because she was stuck in the grieving stage of rage or would she move past that enough, become someone that would make her sister proud?
It should have been an obvious choice, and she could blame Ra's and Talia for poisoning her mind, but in the end, Anastasia clung to her rage. The world had dealt her a horrible hand and she wanted to take all that anger out on people who deserved it. Ridding the world of horrible people who would cause pain to people like her that never deserved it—when she thought about it like that, it made the thought of killing someone else a little easier to stomach. And she was sure, with time, the whole process would become easier.
Her entire thought process in that moment terrified her because she was attempting to justify murder. Ra's al Ghul might not have been poisoning her, but he was pulling out the worst and building on it. Taking the path with Batman—well, she was sure he could help her channel that rage, make something better out of all that anger. Down that path, she knew that Dick, Bruce and Alfred would be there to help her heal but she would have to loose them should she decide to remain under the immortal.
"Anastasia Azarova," a sharp voice called out to her and she sprung up from the mattress, staring around at the strange environment. A surge of pain started at the base of her neck and spread up across her head making her groan as she stared at the bald man, dressed in League uniform. "Congratulations," he bowed. "You have passed training. Our master has requested your presence at dinner. Mistress Talia commanded I give you this," he stretched out his arm and handed her an emerald dress.
"I...what?" Blinking, her gaze once again swept over the lavish room adorned in paintings she was sure were the original and ancient looking rugs, a room in a mansion that belonged to a man just as old, if not older, than what decorated his home. "I...passed?" She breathed out under her breath while reaching out to take the dress. "Thank you, uh, sir..."
"I am Ubu. I am the personal assistant and guard to our master. We will be working together to protect the master and Mistress Talia in the future should you pass the final test." Ubu bowed to her a moment before leaning back up and heading toward the door. "I will be waiting outside the door. Be quick. The master does not like to wait."
The moment Ubu shut the door, she was up from the bed and staggered over to the window. Looking out over the horizon, there was nothing but an endless ocean stretched out. There were steel bars blocking her escape, but she had elemental abilities to remedy that situation, and then she glanced down where the mansion loomed on the edge of a tall cliff. Whether she was able to make it down or not, she had no way to cross the ocean, no way to even get back to Gotham. Flying without provisions or direction was suicide—that much she could figure out.
"Shit." She snarled under her breath while groaning and running her hands through her tangled hair. "Shit, shit, shit. I can't...not now. This can't be happening now. No, no, no..." She crouched down and tucked her head between her legs, trying to breathe through the rising panic.
After a minute or two, when she was sure she wouldn't throw up all over the expensive rug, Anastasia stood up and threw her clothes onto the floor, sliding into the dress as slow as she could while her mind raced with useless escape plans. Ubu made a loud and impatient noise outside the door which caught her attention and sent her darting over toward the door, slipping a strap up on her arm as she opened it. The two started waking down a narrow hall and he started explaining the routine of those closest to Ra's al Ghul, but she never managed to pay much attention to him with her rising panic levels.
The teenager thought back to the dream, to the two paths she had now been shoved into deciding which to take, and suddenly remembered a lesson their class had finished just before spring break. Going over Shakespeare, she had been taught about the fatal flaw and realized how that concept applied too much to her current situation not to be ironic or fate or something.
Rage.
In the end, her rage had been her fatal flaw.
Rage had sent her, a mere child, into an adult situation and accept something that she never should have even thought about in the first place. Rage had made her accept a deal and not even think about what the future held in store because it helped ease the pain temporarily and that was all she had wanted ever since Karina died. Rage sent her out on the street, beating criminal after criminal into the ground, just to lessen the rage that never eased up, just worsened because there was a murderer out on the street who killed her sister.
Now Anastasia was terrified and had no escape route. No one was coming to save her because no one knew what happened to her. The police who had broken into her home on a suspected drug raid thought she was on the run in Gotham, had no idea that she had been kidnapped. As for the Batman and his Robin, the duo had more important things to do in a forsaken city. She was about to be lost to history, some daughter of two poor, junkie, Russian immigrants who would forever hide in the shadows. The only future in store for her was death—either from her refusing to be an assassin or from loosing her humanity when she would be forced to murder people.
"Pay attention," the man in front of her snapped and she glanced toward him with fear lingering behind her gaze. "There are still sedatives lingering in your blood, but that will not be an adequate excuse should our master notice you not listening to him. We have gone through much to prepare for this night and you should remember that, child."
"Yes sir." Anastasia murmured while glancing forward at the looming door where two assassins awaited her arrival.
Ubu glanced over his shoulder at her, sending her a stern look. "Do not speak unless spoken to. Do not move unless commanded to. Is this understood?" The teenager nodded and he glanced back toward the two assassins, giving a nod to which they bowed and then opened the door. "Good luck on your final test."
As she was about to speak, her voice was soon lost when she looked on in mild horror at the scene in front of her. She took a hesitant step toward the long dinner table, glancing over at the two bound and gagged people sitting across from her mentor, Talia, who was casually glancing over a newspaper. Seated at the head of the table was, of course, Ra's al Ghul who was carefully consuming his dinner. Both father and daughter seemed absolutely unfased by the fact that both Batman and Robin were seated at the table with them, both struggling to free themselves of the metal chains around them. As she took another cautious step, she noticed both the utility belts on her end of the table, out of reach for the two vigilantes.
"Miss Azarova," her gaze snapped up to the immortal who was standing up. Her automatic instinct was to bow to him, as she had been taught in training. "Congratulations are in order. You have completed your training. I had little doubt in you despite your encounter with the detective, his protege, and your blatant disregard of our strict rule for you to remain off the...vigilante scene." The panic that had been rising since she woke up peaked, but he held up a hand when she froze in terror. "That will be dealt with at a later date. Come and sit down. You need to eat. Food will help ease the effects of the drugs and you need strength for your final test."
"Of course, master." She murmured while moving past him to take the seat next to Talia. With her stomach rolling around inside her, she could hardly stomach looking at food, let alone trying to eat, but she had to keep calm and keep up appearances. So, still on the verge of a full-on panic attack, she started munching at the dishes set out for her—and she had no idea how either one of them knew what her favorite Russian dishes were.
"I can only assume how confused you must be at the appearance of the detective and his bird." Ra's commented while walking around to the other side of the table.
Anastasia swallowed a spoonful of soup before glancing down at her lap. "I am confused, but I've learned to not ask and listen instead."
"Excellent," he complimented with a smirk that reminded her too much of a snake in the grass. "We, too, were confused when the two managed to follow your position here. They were overpowered, but have not given up any information about how you were tracked. We assume there is something on your person that has a hidden tracking device."
The dark-haired girl opened her mouth to protest, that it couldn't be her because she changed before she had been kidnapped and that she had been out with Dick all night beforehand, but Talia wrapped her hand around the necklace before tearing it from around her neck. Anastasia cringed as the metal dug into her skin and then watched as her present was tossed across the table, ending up in front of Robin.
"Impressive, Robin, but I can see through your little tricks by this point." Ra's explained while grabbing at the chain and looking over it a moment before throwing it to the floor. "Miss Azarova, I believe it is time for you to know about who the Batman truly is."
"But—" Talia squeezed her thigh underneath the table and she cringed before closing her mouth.
"The detective is going to be my heir one day, Anastasia. When he has taken his rightful place as the head of the League, you are going to protect him as you will do with both myself and Talia. You must know the man underneath his mask. Do you understand this?"
Anastasia gave a mute nod while staring back and forth between Batman and Robin. The whole scenario was wrong and a voice in the back of her mind was screaming to make a diversion or something, but she had no idea what to do without being killed at the end of it all. In the end, it was the fear of death that kept her rooted there as Ra's reached for the edge of the cowl and ripped it from the face of Batman.
Then, her heart dropped and she breathed a little breath of disbelief. "Bruce?"
It bubbled underneath the surface of her skin, never gone and forever waiting to come to the surface. The rage inside her heart ran deep and it was clawing back toward the top, rising faster and faster as the new revelation sunk in. As she stood up, gripping the edge of the table, the smell of smoke reached her nostrils and she glanced down at the table, now burning underneath her glowing red hand. When she glanced back up, looking over at a now unmasked Robin who had his head ducked but she could still see her best friend, a small piece of wood broke off in her hand when she clutched it too hard.
There was a web of endless lies that she could not escape, no matter how hard she struggled against it otherwise. From the moment she was born, she had been told to lie about her abilities, lie about who she was, lie about all the abuse and neglect. For her more recent lies, most of the lies had been on her part (lie about her training, lie about being out of the streets at night, lie about her readiness for the League and revenge). Dick and Bruce and Alfred were supposed to be her haven, a place she could be the person she was meant to be with none of the lies involved. But no matter how hard she tried, there was no escape.
"Child, you have been lied to from the beginning. The only reason these two took such an interest in you was because of your abilities then some misplaced sense of guilt after your dear sister was murdered and then because I had brought you into my tutorage. These people are excellent in their lies, are experienced in putting on false fronts and you were just another casualty." Talia murmured while grabbing at her arm and pulled her hand back from the burning spot at the table.
Anastasia glanced over at Dick who was shaking his head at her, desperation lingering behind the blue, but Ra's moved and her attention was back on him. The older man placed a hand on her shoulder, something sinister behind his eyes that she tried to ignore as he gave her a small smile.
"But we have not lied to you. You came to me and we agreed that I would train you which I have done. I gave you power, Anastasia. And now, I will give you the vengeance you seek."
The door to the large dining hall opened and she glanced over at the two assassins dragging a bound, gagged, and struggling man into the room. Ra's moved past her and walked behind the prisoner, grabbing a fistful of hair and pulling the man's head back to give her a better look at him. She took in his stark black hair, chocolate brown gaze and overall handsome face because her stomach twisted around inside her.
"Meet Antoine DuPont, the man who murdered Karina Azarova and the man you are going to kill as your final test."
"Yes." The answer was automatic and took no thought at all when the rage flooded through her in an instant. "As you wish, master."
There were several locations that the League of Asassins worked out of and kept prisoners in, so when Anastasia was led down into a hall with holding cells, she knew that only the worst of the worst or personal enemies of Ra's al Ghul were kept there. Even the guard who escorted her down from the main part of the mansion only remained as long as he needed to explain the conditions to her before turning and running. As she watched the guard leaving, the muffled screams of DuPont echoed throughout the dank basement, making her blood boil all over again. The teenager stormed down the hall, almost to his holding cell until she caught the sound of rattling chains and glanced inside another cell.
Anastasia opened the door but never moved past the doorway, instead staring at the man who become like a father to her, who had lied to her and shattered it all. For a moment, she chewed on her lower lip and pondered whether she should have spoken to him or not.
"Out of all the people I needed, I think I needed you most, Bruce. Me and you, we're not like Dick." Her emerald gaze traveled to the unconscious teenager leaned against his mentor. "He was able to heal after what happened to him, but the two of us can't do that. We still remember, we still hold on...yeah," she took a deep breath. "I needed you most because you know how much it hurts even when everyone else says that it shouldn't, that you're just holding on the pain. I keep hoping you do actually care about me, but I mean, if Bruce Wayne is a mask, doesn't that make everything he does a lie?"
The silence between them was deafening and she thought about taking out his gag but she knew that even then, he wouldn't speak to her, so she went on. "I wish you would've told me. I wish I didn't find out like this. I feel like...it could've turned out a lot different if you'd been there to...help me through the pain and anger and..." She gave a shaky laugh. "Too late, I guess.
"You're like a father to me, you know. And I love you, Bruce. I'm...I am sorry, but I'm so angry..." Anastasia glanced down at the ground, watching as her few tears dropped onto the stone floor. "I wish I could be as good a person as you are. I wish I could've made you proud. I wish I could've been a better daugh—person," she amended before stepping back into the darkness.
And as she slipped into the room where her little sister's murderer was tied up to a chair, Anastasia allowed the ever-present rage to consume her and the pained screams of Antoine DuPont drowned out the muffled cries of Bruce yelling for her from down the hall.
