Chapter Five: Dear Diary, I'm Seasick

Jane turned down the volume as Joseph pushed open the crematorium's door, the urn full of Talia's ashes in his arms, cradling it like it was alive, keeping it safe.

"Thanks," Jane said as she pushed the button that lowered the side window.

Bane had slipped back inside the body bag and kept his breathing nearly undetectable as Joseph passed the urn to Jane.

Jane began rolling the window up as soon as she had the burnt woman in hand. She didn't want Joseph anywhere near Bane any longer than he needed to be.

"Thanks again, I owe you," Jane shouted so she could be heard through the closing window before gunning the engine and slamming the V6 into reverse.

Joseph watched Jane accelerate with enough force on the gas pedal to make the tires spin and spit bits of gravel in the air.

Jane was flushed and sweating from the pain in her sprained wrist.

Later when he was questioned by GPD, Joseph would admit that he'd cremated a body of a woman for Jane and that she looked manic.

Joseph would tell GPD that she was sweating and breathing hard, that the body she needed burned was one she'd made medical errors on and didn't want anyone to catch her mistake.

Jane would never return to Gotham City, and it could only be extrapolated from her actions that she was worried about her licensure from inadvertently butchering the wrong corpse or contaminating evidence.

There were whispers in the halls that Jane was also terrified of disappointing her mother.

Bane slipped back out of the body bag once a good chunk of time had passed.

He sat up, his eyes falling on the urn in between the driver and passenger seat, leaning on its side.

Jane caught Bane's movement in her peripheral as he reached for the urn, picking it up as though it was made of spun sugar and might break in his hands.

The place on the coast where the mouth of the river met the ocean and fit Bane's other specifications was a couple hours away.

She glanced down again at the nearly full gas gauge as she merged onto the freeway before sneaking a glimpse up at Bane's reflection in the rearview mirror as he cradled Talia's urn, his scarred lips moving as he spoke lowly to the matte black vessel for housing the dead.

The entire drive from the Morning Star Crematorium to the Devil's Heart Cove, an out-of-the-way river delta that would become Talia al Ghul's final resting place, Bane remained in silence.

Jane would cast occasional glances up to the rearview mirror, each time finding Bane stroking the matte surface of the urn, the scarred pads of his fingertips tracing shapes, words from a language spoken by few.

Jane took in a series of deep breaths, holding them for a count of five before slowly exhaling on a slower count of ten as they drew closer to The Devil's Heart Cove with each passing second.

As the miles were devoured under the van's tires, Bane stroked the urn's smooth surface, thinking of Talia who now walked amongst gods in the afterlife.

"All will bend the knee to you in eternity, all will prostrate themselves in fealty," Bane whispered to Talia's ashes. "In perpetuity," he growled as his large hands cradled the urn.

"I will join you on the banks of the afterlife after I have avenged you," Bane rasped lowly as Jane navigated the van along the winding coastal roads which narrowed, boasting treacherous drop-offs the closer The Devil's Heart Cove loomed.

Jane eventually found a place to stop the Gotham City Coroner van, setting the emergency brake on the steeply graded road.

Bane leaned forward and looked through the windshield, unable to see the water from how she'd parked.

"There's a path down to the sand," Jane said as she also stared through the windshield, her uninjured hand clenched tightly around the steering wheel.

"Lead me to the path," Bane stated, his tone not inviting compromise, discussion, or refusal.

Jane tightened her uninjured hand on the wheel until her knuckles turned white, the skin stretched taut over the fine bones.

Jane pressed her lips together and clenched her teeth until her jaw popped but remained silent as she pushed open the heavy driver's side door.

Bane listened as Jane walked to the rear of the van, practically stomping in her comfortable cross-trainers.

Jane paused at the rear doors of the van; her throbbing hand pressed to the center of her chest as she closed her good hand around the metal handle.

"Should I run?" she whispered. "Take the chance of reaching help?" she murmured, an involuntary shudder wracking her frame as she remembered Bane reciting the address of what was now her mother's home.

Jane stared out at the vast Atlantic Ocean, squinting against the breeze sprinkled with grains of sand.

Kelp and uprooted seagrass swirled in the roiling surf, the swells were inviting to surfers, but the undertow was deceptively angry, under the surface, sirens waited.

If Charles Darwin had been standing behind Jane, looking over her shoulder, he would've whispered a section of his journal entry for July 24, 1833.

"It was a wild looking night to go to sea, but time is too precious to lose even a bad portion of it."

Jane blew out a shaky breath as she yanked open one of the doors, flinching as Bane was in a hunched position on the other side, holding the urn close to his side.

She took a few steps back as Bane stepped down heavily from the van, the slight drop caused lightning bolts of pain to shoot up his lower legs.

"This is the place?"

Jane nodded, "the closest and easiest to go to."

Bane parroted her nod and swept his free hand to the space in front of him, wordlessly demanding her to lead to way to where the two bodies of water joined together in explosive, wet display.

Jane could feel the weight of Bane's stare boring a hole between her shoulder blades as she took careful steps down the steep pathway.

Bane carefully navigated the rough path after Jane, eventually the uneven trail that occurred naturally, spilled them out to the estuary where the waters cataclysmically blended together.

Jane stopped just inches short of the water being able to kiss the toes of her sneakers as Bane stared up at the clear sky, the air filled with the taste of the sea.

He squinted at the bright sun, the ball of light blinding before he moved all of his attention to the matte black urn, carefully unscrewing the lid until he could dip a large hand into the ashes and bony detritus that Talia al Ghul had been reduced by fire.

Jane didn't care if Bane looked up and caught her openly staring as he murmured with each handful of ash that he released into the air.

She didn't catch many of the words over the pounding surf and erratic cries from the overhead flock of seagulls.

"Your light has been extinguished, the dawn has come," Bane growled as he released a handful of Talia's ashes.

"The river went where it must, you exist now beyond."

"The beginning of death and the end of life."

Each bit of what remained of Talia was caught up in the air, swirled out to sea. Some bits of her ground up femurs ended up being sucked into the ocean, plunged twenty thousand leagues under the sea, and clogged the water filter on the Nautilus.

"It is the start and stop of this path, your journey begins."

"The horizon is immortal, you are eternal."

"You are no longer limited by the earth," Bane trailed off as his voice became choked and his broad chest hitched as the last of Talia al Ghul slipped from his scarred palm.

Bane stared out at the horizon line long after the last grains of Talia's ashes slipped from his palm.

He looked over at Jane, finding her eyes already on him.

"Take me to the place where the unwanted and forgotten reside."