A/N: FINALLY. DONE. GAAAAAAH.

I'm not fully satisfied with this ending but I had to get it out. This is always how I meant to end it though, so there's that. I thought of the last line of this story before I posted the first part of Atiya's chapters so all I had to do was work backward. Let me know what you think!

Note that Atiya is different here, not just through Bane's eyes, but in general. I figure you can't go through all the craziness she has and come out completely sane. Hopefully I planted the seeds early enough for this not to come as a major surprise.

And in the Darkness Bind Them

Bane

I.

His name had not always been Bane.

Once he'd been a little boy who liked stories, who found joy in a tale well told. Who played in the forests near his home and taught himself about the stars and the trees and the animals.

He had been a cause of great consternation for his father, who had different ideas about what his only son should have been interested in. Acumen in battle, weapons, combat skills- those were prized over words in his family. There were no scholars, no scientists nor philosophers in his line. He was an anomaly; he was other.

His mother had been other too. Softer. More understanding. Her father had chosen her because of her beauty but she'd had a mind of her own. She had been the one who passed Bane books at night in secret. Who had run her fingers through his hair and smiled down at him when he gave her gifts of flower crowns and leaves shaped like birds.

She had been the only one who'd cried when he'd been sentenced to the pit.

He wishes sometimes that his mother had died shortly after. It would be better that she not live to witness the world as it is now.

The world that he helped to create.

II.

This is what Bane thinks the first time he sees Talia-

Fire, burning bright.

The child had been ferocious, angry at whatever forces had left her and her mother amongst such horrors. She needed to be tempered and for a while her mother had been enough to contain her heat.

She had changed though, once Atiya had been born. The fire had been given direction, a focus.

This is what Bane thinks the first time he meets Atiya-

Water, to quench the flame.

-and he knows how the once savage girl her sister had been was tamed.

"You are lucky to have each other."

Fire and water balanced each other; one tempered the other.

Bane was reminded of this balance, saw what the lack of it could do. In Atiya's absence, Talia had grown too wild, consumed by her own nature and shaped into a weapon by her father even after his death.

And yet Bane understood- water, on its own, could be still and calm. Atiya had left but she would be fine. She could move through the world like a river through the land, ever changeable, ever nimble. This was what Talia could not accept.

Only later would Bane remember something else-

Without heat, water could grow cold, could freeze and become hard.

Become ice.

III.

Atiya's face is the last thing he sees in Gotham.

Behind her, the overcast sky is bleak and menacing but the sounds of cheers, faint in the distance, haunt his ears.

My heart, he thinks in that moment, my beloved.

He thinks Atiya is radiant against the gloom; she is otherworldly like the angels in the stories his mother had once recited at his bedside.

He wants to reach up, wants to wipe away the tears and blood on her cheeks. He wants to heal the wound at her brow and press his fingers against her downturned mouth. These are mortal concerns after all, mortal wounds, and he has always known that Atiya was beyond him, above them all.

May you have true freedom at last.

He closes his eyes with the hope that he will not open them again.

IV.

If asked, Bane would say he is earth; strong and sturdy.

Yet he could be moved, could be scorched and shaken, changed by the whims of stronger forces.

After all, water could shape stone, could move earth, given time.

V.

It takes him two weeks to recover; two months to recover fully.

His memory of the escape from Gotham is fragmented and unreliable. He remembers Barsad's blood-covered chest on the cot beside him. He remembers the silence that had fallen over the cabin of Talia's private jet, Atiya's toy now, heavy and thick with sorrow and defeat.

He remembers Atiya's profile against a window, her delicate features pale as snow and still as marble.

He isn't sure how she managed to bring them home but he knows that Ra's youngest daughter is resourceful and sharp. She has something of her father's inescapable draw to her and it has little to do with her face. Talia had it once as well and in the weeks that follow, Bane realizes that her sister has begun to cultivate that inherent magnetism that she denied for so long.

Strange doctors see to him during the day. They are all skilled but unfamiliar and they duck their heads in reverence when Atiya enters his quarters though she spares them nothing more than a brief glance.

She studies him mostly, saying little outside of asking a few questions about his health and his wounds, answering none of his own. She takes his mask from him, telling him he must be strong, that he must fight against the pain while she repairs it.

Though his mind is addled with near-constant agony, he notices how much she has changed.

The light from her eyes, once kind and gentle, has been replaced by something cold and canny. Something wrong.

And yet the chill is a familiar thing. Bane knows that it does not belong on Atiya's face. Not his Atiya, who smiled even in the shadows and remained untouched by her family's madness for so long.

It belonged to her father. It belonged to Talia.

And now they are dead.

VI.

When he is able to stand and walk, when he no longer screams for relief, Atiya comes to him with the mask in her hands.

"You're too dependent on it," she says, watching him fix it over his mouth. "It's never good to become too attached."

The new mask is light yet sturdy and Bane closes his eyes as he feels the familiar cool rush of gas brush over his lips. It enters his lungs and it is as if a weight has been lifted from his shoulders.

The pain recedes, disappears completely, and his mind clears.

"When there's time, I'd like to look at this. I think I can make it better for you if you'd let me."

"Thank you," he says, opening his eyes. He realizes that she must have been working on the mask for weeks now and truly, it is a much better thing than his old one. The gas itself is odorless and tasteless and he can feel a newfound strength growing in his limbs.

"Thank you," he says again. He forces himself to raise his head and look at her. "I failed you and your sister. You should have left-"

She cuts him off briskly. "You've not yet completely healed but this will do for now. At the very least, you can do without it for half a day. More, if you push yourself."

Her tone is flat and thought there is no anger or condescension that he can detect, her words still sting.

"What of Barsad?" he asks after a silence. He can feel her gaze on him and it is an odd feeling, to have her study him with an almost insectile curiosity.

"What of him?" she says. "His wound was much less severe. He's already started training again."

Her response surprises him and he stares at her, bemused.

"Training for what?"

When Atiya smiles, Bane cannot help but draw back a little.

Though he is weaker than he once was, she is still far smaller than him.

When Atiya smiles, she bares her teeth like a shark.

She moves towards the door but before she leaves she turns to him and says, "We have a new purpose now."

"And what purpose is that?"

But Atiya says nothing. She walks away from him.

Smiling.

VII.

Beyond his quarters, Bane finds a new world, a new brotherhood.

They have started recruiting again, from all corners of the world and from all walks of life. The difference now is that they seek out the learned, the educated.

"You should be honored, brother," Barsad tells him days after he finally makes his way out of isolation. He offers Bane the kama, his weapon of old, and bows his head. "We will witness a new age. From ashes, we shall see the League rise."

Bane narrows his eyes and grips his weapon but says nothing.

Barsad is sinewy like a wolf, trim but strong; that much has stayed the same. But there is a nearly imperceptible delay in his movements and the addition of more scars over his torso. Bane knows he has been charged with teaching the new members of their fold and already he is culling the weak from the rest as ruthlessly as he once did for Ra's and Talia.

"She is a prophet." Barsad circles him, the placid expression never changing as he begins his attack. Bane can hear his breathing grow heavy- another sign of his injuries. "The world will change because of her vision."

Bane parries and then strikes, nearly catching Barsad with his blade. He holds him in place for a moment, feeling curiosity mixed with alarm at his words.

"And what vision is this?" he asks. "What does she plan?"

Barsad slips away and looks at Bane. Bane recognizes the fire of the fanatic, one that Talia once stroked to a blaze in all of her men.

Except for me.

He had followed her because it was his duty; Talia was his charge once. He had joined the League to punish those who soiled the air and poisoned the earth with their ways. But he'd never considered himself one of Talia's hopeless, angry men nor one of her father's cold, calculating warriors.

Bane never truly belonged to Ra's or Talia, after all. He served a different master.

"Atiya, the silent," he says softly but Barsad hears him nonetheless. He grins then, his face lighting up with an almost child-like glee. It is joy on his brother's face and it nearly clears the shadows that have settled on his lean features.

Barsad says, "She is silent no more."

VIII.

Bane is a watcher of things.

There is little that escapes his notice. Even as a child, he'd been an observer, a wide-eyed witness of everything around him. He'd read voraciously but there was nothing better than seeing events unfold through his own lens, unfiltered by others' views.

He had watched all the long years pass him by when he was in the pit. Watched as brothers and adversaries both lived and died; as a child grew into a woman. He is not a man of deed. Bane understands his own nature is passive; thoughtful. He acts when he has a reason and he knows he has a mind built for strategy but mostly, he prefers to watch.

Now, he watches as men in lab coats enter and exit doors that are closed to his hand. He looks on in silent contemplation as strangers pass through the halls, their footsteps echoing with purpose, their faces grim but alight with the fervor of saints.

"They are the tabib," one of his brothers tells him during a meal. "They are the creators of the holy weapon, the saif."

The Doctors.

The Sword.

A story begins to form in Bane's mind and it is not one he cares to see through.

One night, he watches from his window as a long procession of those strangers head out into the woods. Some of them carry large bags, big enough to hold a grown man, and in the distance, a large fire burns bright against the dark sky.

At the end of the line, Atiya walks behind them, clothed in a long white robe. She pauses and then looks up at him. The light from the moon illuminates her face and something inside of him twists to see her standing alone against the wilderness.

She smiles at him- that peculiar, predator's smile that does not belong on her face, and turns away to continue walking.

He watches until she disappears from his sight and all he can think is-

What madness has seized you?

He thinks he knows and he is afraid of the answer.

IX.

The days pass and he grows restless and wary.

The men will not tell him any more than what they've already said and he suspects they've been ordered to stay silent. Barsad tries to placate him but Bane knows that his loyalties have shifted: Atiya has secured his allegiance because she is his beloved's sister.

After all, Talia's blood runs through Atiya's veins.

The fire still burns.

Despite the isolation he feels, Bane knows he has been elevated. He is other once again but this time, he is a figure of awe and respect instead of disdain. Even the men he has trained with under Ra's hand look upon him in veneration.

He is given the best food, the most freedom, the best spoils from their travels into the world… but no one will answer his questions and there are doors that are still shut against him.

"My sister wanted children," Atiya tells him when he finally comes to see her. "Daughters. She'd already chosen names."

It is a strange thing to say, with no context or reason behind it. She sits on the edge of her bed gazing up at him and Bane feels uncomfortable standing before her.

(The truth is he has always felt uneasy when she is near. His hands are too large, his size too massive for someone so small and exquisite to be safe around him. Atiya has always looked as if she would break if he lays but a finger on her.

Next to her, he is a monstrous thing.)

"Did you know this?" she asks again.

In her hands is the burlap bear he'd made for her a lifetime ago. There is a large tear at its back but she seems not to notice or care as she strokes its ratty little face.

Bane nods once. "Your sister made it no secret what she wished for. She wanted a family."

"No." Atiya's voice is hard, almost stern. "She wanted a legacy. There's a difference."

Bane stills, feeling dread grow in the pit of his stomach. He asks, "What does that have to do with your work now, Atiya? The men speak of your vision but they won't tell me what you plan. I see the doctors, I know you work towards something but-"

"You can leave," she cuts him off. She tilts her head to the side, watching him. "No one will stop you. You can live the rest of your life in peace and comfort. I can grant you that."

Bane's words die on his lips and he takes a step forward, feeling the conversation slip out of his control.

He remembers the day her father cast him out and the long years before Gotham. Atiya left but her presence had lingered, the space where she would have been festering like a wound in her sister's heart, in his own mind.

"Do you want me to go?" he asks brokenly. He kneels before her and looks up at her face. "Is that what you want? Is that why you share nothing with me?"

For a moment, Atiya looks down at him with her cold blue eyes. Then she sighs and shakes her head.

"That's not what I want," she says. "But you deserve a choice, just as you gave me one before. I don't want take another choice from your hands."

Bane feels his eyes burn like he is looking directly into the sun. He takes hold of her hands, lifting them up and carefully wrapping his fingers around her wrists.

The bear lays limp on her lap.

"I choose to stay here."

"Then you should focus on your recovery and nothing else. The men tell you nothing because it's not their place to do so."

"But I am of no use to you like this. I am blind, not knowing the road we tread," he says honestly.

He has come to the crux of the manner. Without knowledge, Bane is nothing. He is worthless to her in his current condition, whatever her cause may be. It is not a state he wishes to be in; it is not a position he would ever choose.

Something in her face softens, the edges of her expression seem to melt and Atiya reaches up to touch the side of his cheek gently. He doesn't relinquish his hold on her; it is the rare moment now when Atiya is alone and even rarer the times when he can touch her. She cloisters herself in her lab, keeping odd hours and even odder company apart from the rest of the men.

"You've helped me more than you know." Atiya runs her fingertips over his mask. "You are essential. But I need you to be patient. Eight weeks. All will be revealed then. Can you wait eight more weeks?"

He nods.

"Good," she says. "I'm glad."

She looks away then, past him, at the window to the world beyond. He can feel a sudden distance between them though he is close enough to see the curve of her lashes and the fine, faint lines at the corner of her eyes.

"I think about it too, sometimes," she says suddenly. Her voice sounds thoughtful and Bane frowns though she cannot see it. His hands tighten on her wrists but she seems not to notice his unease.

"Think about what, Atiya?" he asks.

As he watches, the corners of lips turn up. There's something there in the tilt of her mouth that still troubles his mind though her words should have soothed away his concerns.

"A legacy."

X.

He thinks of that long winter in Gotham. About the choice of death or exile, which amounted to the same thing in the eyes of the provisional court that Crane had ruled over.

Men and women were sent over the ice to find justice. Bane remembers their faces, the way their expressions changed, lightened, with each step. The longer they stayed upright, the more they believed in their redemption.

Always, always they were wrong.

The folly of the endeavor was simple: the most treacherous step they took was the one they were most confident in.

No one could predict the strength of the ice that held them up; once past a certain point, most of them believed that it would hold. That if it hadn't broken yet, it was solid all the way. Eventually their weight would break through a thin spot overlooked and the cold waters would drag them down, muffling their screams until-

Calm.

He knows, as he has always known, that Atiya wasn't the delicate thing that Talia imagined her to be. She'd gone out into the world on her own, survived without any of them to watch over her.

But…

Put enough pressure on the ice, step on just the right place, and the cracks would appear.

Atiya, born of water.

He thinks perhaps the cracks had always been there lurking just underneath the seemingly calm façade- perhaps the fracture was inevitable. Perhaps they had all pushed too hard, too far, too fast and broken what would have held firm if left alone.

Whatever the cause, Bane knows Atiya is broken, lost in the darkness of the mind she'd inherited and the influence she'd fought against for so long.

A grandfather capable of throwing away his own flesh out of spite.

A father who razed towns and destroyed cities without remorse.

A sister bent on revenge against the world.

He never once wondered what it was like for the people who died underneath the ice. He never once wondered what it would be like to try and reach towards freedom, even as the body grew cold and the fight drained out of the limbs.

He thinks now that Atiya never had to wonder.

XI.

As asked of him, Bane focuses all his efforts on regaining his former strength. He trains with the men and helps Barsad with the new recruits, all the while watching as strangers arrive at the compound.

Not all of them are doctors. Some of them he can recognize from his past work; some of them are men and women in positions of great power. They all have one thing in common.

Victims.

All have suffered great losses.

They all go to meet with Atiya and they leave with bright eyes and hope, such agonizing hope, etched in the deep lines of their faces.

He goes to her and offers to fix the bear that she held so tightly that night, nearly a week ago.

"This can be repaired," he says, picking up the small doll. "Or I can make a new one. You deserve something better. Something whole and new."

He means that Atiya deserves a better life but he cannot find the strength to say the words out loud. Bane wants to comfort her, but he is no longer sure how. He has resigned himself to a lifetime of loneliness but it is a hard thing to see her look so sad and tired.

She takes the bear from his grasp and passes her hand gently over the torn back.

When she raises her head again, he can see a glimmer of the old Atiya, though she is worn with care and heavy with burden. Her eyes are almost black in the flickering light and he can see the shadows underneath.

She says, "No. Leave it."

She says, "Some things are better left broken. Sometimes it's better that way."

XII.

Atiya disappears and no matters how hard he tries, he cannot reach past the closed doors of what he now knows are labs.

His brothers grow restive and the doctors are tense and agitated, scurrying like mice in the corridors. Even Barsad seems affected and Bane imagines he can see his own concern reflected in his eyes.

At his wit's end, he grabs one of the doctors in the hall, appearing from the shadows before the startled man. To his credit, the man composes himself quickly enough and stands tall as he looks up at Bane. He is nervous but he doesn't shake or try to slink away.

For that, Bane can respect him, though not by much.

"What has happened to Atiya?" Bane's voice is a near growl, amplified by the mask and his anger. "Where do you keep her?"

The man shakes his head. "You can't go to her. It isn't allowed."

"That is not what I asked."

The man hesitates and then he says slowly, falteringly, "It is the time of the trial. The time of our prophet to wield the saif. She would have no other to take her place."

He looks down, troubled, and adds in a small voice, "We must be strong. We must have faith. She will not fall."

Bane feels himself grow cold as he mulls over his words. There are several possibilities, all as horrible and as likely as the other, and he has spent weeks turning over what he's seen, coming to his own conclusions.

If he is right, Atiya's plans are the stuff of nightmares. There would be no stopping the tidal wave she would unleash.

What have you done to yourself?

Bane steps aside to let the man pass. There is nothing more to be gleaned from him. To his surprise though, the man looks back at him. There are unshed tears in his eyes and Bane notices the pale strip of skin on his ring finger- a contrast against his tan skin, and the premature lines at his eyes and mouth. He is a young man but it is clear that suffering has caused him to carry years beyond his true age.

"It is a bitter cup she drinks from but in it she carries our hope," he says. "She carries our vengeance. She will not fall."

He walks away then.

Bane stares after him.

XIII.

The weeks move slowly. Painfully.

Bane becomes stronger than he has ever been but he feels hollow inside, as if it would take very little effort to break him.

Atiya's quarters stay empty. Every night he walks inside to touch her things, telling himself that the doctors would say if the trial has failed.

If she has fallen.

He makes sure nothing gathers dust and opens the windows to clean out the air. He doesn't fix the bear but he places it on her covers, propped against the single pillow on her bed. It looks as if it is waiting for its owner, like Bane.

One night he finds a photograph, unframed and wrinkled, shoved behind a space between the wall and her desk. He stares at it for a long time and the feeling that rushes through him is nearly indescribable. Rage and doubt overpower him but he does nothing but stand still, staring down at the piece of a life he was never, would never be a part of.

He has never seen her smile so large, so carefree and the man at her side looks on her with a mix of awe and adoration. He is dark haired and dark eyed, so much like Dante and yet nothing like him at all.

Bane knows his face. He knows the uniform.

GCPD.

Bane puts the photograph back behind the desk.

He wishes, not for the first time, that Atiya had run when he'd told her to.

"You should have had a different life. You still can. There is still time for you."

Bane hopes but does not believe that it is not too late.

XIV.

One night, Bane finds Atiya standing in the middle of her quarters.

She is nearly emaciated, dressed in a simple nightgown that looks two or three sizes too big for her. She looks like a ghost or a wraith. She looks like someone who has been through a great illness, which is likely the truth as Bane presumes it be.

She has passed the trial.

A few days ago, he'd noticed that the doctors were less anxious and a general sense of relief had trickled down to the rest of them. But only now, seeing her whole and alive, can Bane feel any semblance of relief.

"You've been patient," Atiya says softly, and her voice is hoarse and barely above a whisper. "Much more patient than I expected you to be. Thank you."

"Do the doctors know you're here?" he asks. "Should you be away from them?"

Atiya smiles faintly. "They answer to me, my friend. Not the other way a-"

She stops speaking and sways on her feet and before he can think, Bane is through the doorway and holding her up against his chest. She feels like paper in his arms and she moves with shaky, fawn-like movements as he guides her to her bed.

"At the end of the week, I'll speak to the men," Atiya says, moving slowly as if to do so hurts. She brings up her knees, knobby and stick-thin, as Bane pulls the blankets over her. He wonders if she has a lingering fever- her skin is hot and dry to the touch. "Be there with me. All your questions will be answered as I promised. Our true work will begin then."

"Whatever it is you do, it cannot be worth this," Bane says. He touches her face and traces the hollow of her cheek where it comes in sharply towards her jaw. "Your life is far more precious."

"You'd have me give up my family's work," Atiya says. She is so pale that Bane can see the blue lines of her veins on her eyelids. "There's no one left."

"You are not your sister," Bane says firmly. "Nor are you your father. They never would have wanted you to carry the mantle after them."

He takes in a deep breath to fortify himself and then speaks his thoughts out loud for the first time.

"They failed, Atiya. Not because of lack of effort or will, or intelligence or wealth. They died in their work- so unmovable were they in their conviction that they died for it. It is a noble thing that they tried, but it does not mean you have to follow after their failure. Leave the League to those who have no hope left, whose lives are irreparable."

Atiya laughs weakly and Bane feels as if she is laughing at him.

"I know I'm not like them," she says. "Do you know why they failed? Do you know where they went wrong and where I'll succeed?"

"Atiya, don't."

"They failed," she says, "because they cared too much. Everything they did was personal. Emotional. They thought they were saving the world."

Her eyes close but the smile lingers. She looks almost peaceful, as if she expects to have good dreams that night. Bane looks down at her and sees a trail of needle tracks running down her arm.

"I won't make that mistake. You have nothing to worry about."

XV.

For the rest of that week, Atiya eats with the men again, taking her place where her father and Talia sat before her. She is still horribly gaunt and Bane sits at her side, making sure that she finishes her food at each meal.

She gives everyone dazzling smiles and her eyes seem to shine like jewels. There is a sense of celebration in the air and everyone works harder, fights harder, as if rejuvenated simply by the sight of her amongst them.

Bane rounds the corner one day and finds Atiya speaking in low tones to a young woman. Her hand is on her shoulder and her mouth is at her ear but Bane can hear Atiya's words in the empty hallway.

"I believe in you, Stacia," she says smoothly. "You've had such a hard life but you are a survivor, like me, like all of us. Use your grief. Turn your sadness, your loss, into power. You're so strong now, never forget that. Never forget that with your family you are even stronger."

She looks up at Bane but does not acknowledge him. Instead she leans forward and squeezes the woman's shoulder. "You'll never be alone again. I promise you this."

That night Atiya comes to him, smiling her sweet smiles and touching him with feather light caresses that make him shiver, make him want.

There is purpose in her hands and he is not ignorant to what they mean.

He tries to turn her away, to reason with her, because he is afraid that she thinks this is his due. Bane knows he is a beast but he can try to be honorable, at least for her.

"You owe me nothing," he says, as she pushes him back against his bed. Her thighs straddle his hips and he reaches up instinctively to steady her. "Atiya, this isn't… You should have better. You deserve better. You can have any-"

"I wouldn't be here if I didn't want this," she says. She touches his face, tracing the skin beside the straps of his mask. "Don't you think I should have a say in what I deserve?"

"Of course," he says. "But-"

She leans back and stares down at him with her hands on his bare chest. "Say no. Tell me you don't want me. I'll leave. I won't come back."

Her words are said gently, kindly and they rip into his heart like shards of ice.

He is a beast but he is also only a man.

"I want…" His voice falters. He wants everything she offers but he is so afraid. "I want."

It is the truth. It is the only thing he can say.

Atiya removes his mask and his hands are clumsy when he tries to stop her. He looks away, unwilling to meet her eyes when he is freed.

"So shy," she murmurs over him. "You were always so shy."

She makes him look up at her, even when she grits her teeth and digs her nails into his shoulders as she presses down, down, down. He tries to be gentle, tries not to hurt her but he is too big and he knows she finds no pleasure that first time.

And yet-

She is fearless with him and as the night continues, she finds release with him, over and over again. It is everything he's ever wanted, more than what he imagined he could have and in the morning, when he feels her soft and steady breath over his chest and her sticky thighs pressed against his own, he allows himself a moment of happiness.

XVI.

She stands at the throne that day and when she speaks, the men and women who listen are held captive by her words and by the passion behind them.

Atiya speaks, and the world holds its breath; listens.

"You'll find your words someday. They will flow from you like a river."

And Bane thinks, with growing panic, that he'd been right all along.

XVII.

"My brothers, my sisters, I can feel your sadness.

"I can feel your anger. Your grief. Your rage. I can feel all of it because it is my own. I have lost as you have lost. Your tears are mine, as much as mine are yours. All my heartbroken brethren- so weary and tired. Yet all of you, every single one of you, are still so strong. You must believe that. You must know that. Despite all the world has done to you, taken from you, you are all above the world.

"We, who have lived in the shadows, who are of the shadows- for so long we have watched as wickedness grows, as it threatens to overtake what little good still exists. So many of our brothers and sisters have given their lives for a world that is no longer worthy of such protection, of such devotion.

"Men abandon their families for the sake of their own comfort. Women steal from the mouths of defenseless children. Those who swore to defend the weak, take from them because of fear and greed.

"Enough is enough, my brethren! It is time for us to cull the evil. We will show this world no more mercy. It is our righteous calling, our destiny to bring forth not justice but judgment, not just in one town or city or country but to every living soul!"

"My father brought forth war- the rider of the red horse, the avenging hand against those who would spill the blood of the innocent without cause.

"My sister held forth the scales and found no balance between those who could feed and those who were hungry and thus she rode forth on the black horse and brought famine.

"They paved the way, they laid down the road so that we, all of us, could be brought here now to this moment, to the end of the old world and the beginning of a new one.

"I will be the last, the white horseman, the bringer of Conquest, the bearer of Pestilence. Nations will fall before me and be crushed under my heel. The rivers will run red with blood and black with disease.

"And at my side I'll have you. All of you. My pale horsemen, who shall carry the holy weapon.

"You will bring death, you will be Death, for you have ridden at my father's side, at my sister's side and now with me. I will lead you to the end, to a new beginning.

"My brethren, my beloved, stay with me. Take up your swords and help me bring forth the final cleansing.

"This is your calling, this is your purpose!"

XVIII.

"This is madness!"

Atiya shuts the door behind them but Bane cannot wait a moment longer. He realizes his voice is a roar but the stone walls of the assembly room will contain him. He paces back and forth, knowing that Barsad and Atiya stand motionless, watching him.

The people outside are rejoicing, still affected by her pretty little speech.

She's manipulated all of them.

All of us.

"On the contrary," Atiya says calmly, "it's quite well planned out. My sister's network reached almost every part of the world and I've people placed at every health organization, on every continent. We have all the wealth and resources we could possibly need. We have our weapon, we have the vaccine and we have the cure. I've tested it myself, as you've probably already guessed."

Bane knows that she's sidestepped his point: that her plan is pure insanity.

Biological weapons.

The destruction of everything.

"Our purpose is not to destroy the world," Bane says angrily. "We are here to save it! To protect those who-"

"Can't protect themselves?" Atiya cuts him off, shaking her head. "It's not that simple anymore. Every city is tainted now, every village, every town. There is no place, save here, that offers any sort of protection for the weak."

"So you mean to simply kill everyone? To take the lives of every person, good or bad, strong or weak? You used to mourn the death of a sparrow, how can you do this now?"

Atiya's face shutters. She straightens and looks at him with a flat, icy stare. Bane realizes at that moment that this is what she has become, this is her true face now, wiped clean of warmth, removed from feeling.

"They failed because they cared too much."

He understands now what she meant and he is struck momentarily mute.

We've done this, he thinks in horror, all the cruelty she's experienced, all the pain we've inflicted on her, this is what has come as a result.

Atiya says, "I was born amongst monsters, Bane. I was raised in darkness. I thought once that all the ills of the world were contained in the pit, that all life was precious but I was wrong. There are so few who live untainted in the light. The monsters walk around us. There is no one place that we can cleanse. No one city that will stand as a symbol for redemption or change."

"And what of the children?" Bane pushes on. "You'll leave thousands of them, millions of children, orphans. Alone and defenseless."

"Suffer the little children to come unto me." Her tone is mocking. "I thought I mentioned the vaccine. We determine who lives and who dies. Most will die but there are those who will be designated the caretakers. They will be protected against our weapon, as will the children."

"You cannot reach every single child," Bane says, "it is unthinkable."

"And I've accepted that," Atiya responds with a shrug. "But the disease is airborne. It will last the optimal amount of time to move quickly among populations. Once the effects of the disease are seen, the vaccine will be disseminated- everyone will want it but not everyone will receive it."

Atiya smiles, cold and cruel. She glances back at Barsad, who looks for all the world like a proud father.

He's known about this all along.

He's encouraged it.

"People will seek protection but find only death in a needle." Atiya lets out a soft breath. "By our calculations, the world's population will be cut in half in a little less than two years. Then our brethren can do the work my father and his before and so on began. And this time, our efforts will have a real impact."

"The infrastructure of each country will fall- what world do you think will be left behind?" he asks. "You saw what happened in Gotham. There will be riots, people will turn on each other, they-"

"So much the better for us then, that they deal with one another. But like I said before, our people are in positions of power. This is what they work towards and they will move up as the world tumbles down, so that they may rebuild it into a better one."

Atiya raises her hand. "But enough- arguing with me won't stop what has already been placed in motion. I gave you a choice before and I'll give it you now. You can leave this place, if what I do and who I am is repugnant to you. I've already given you the vaccine in the gas you breathe. You were the first to be protected once it was finished."

Bane starts at this and reaches up to touch his mask.

Atiya continues speaking. "If you go, you'll be safe. But you'll not see me again."

For a moment, Bane falters. He wants to run from her, to leave her to her folly but in his heart… In his heart, he knows that Atiya needs him now more than ever.

She will need an anchor.

"We need you to lead our men." Barsad speaks for the first time and Atiya nods at his words. "They need a commander, someone who can execute our plans with grace and strength. I will stand by you, brother, as I have always done. But only if you choose to stay."

"What choice is this," Bane asks, shaking his head, "between seeking the end of all we know at the hands of the only woman I have ever loved, and to live in safety and ignorance, alone?"

Atiya stares at him blankly.

"At least it's a choice."

XIX.

Later, when they are alone in his quarters Bane asks, "Did you mean it? Did you believe those words you said?"

Atiya is pale and fragile, her skin soft and smooth as she removes her robes. He could reach out and break her neck with barely an effort. He could cover her full, pink mouth with one hand and steal the breath from her body. He could throw her across the room so that her head would snap back against the corner of a table.

He could do all of these things and yet none of them. He would take his own life before he laid a finger on her and yet he is afraid of her now, as much as he is afraid for her.

"Does it matter?" she asks. The robe slips off her bare shoulders and slides down to the floor at her feet.

"They believed it. They believe you."

"And they should."

She walks towards him and he wills himself not to react. Soon, his resolve will crumble and his strength will fail again at the touch of her hand, but for as long as he can, he will not move.

"I didn't lie to them. I'll give them everything I said I would. What does it matter what I believe then?"

"Because I want to know. It matters to me."

"Then find your comfort there," Atiya says as she moves over him. "After all, you were the one who showed me the power of stories. You were the one who taught me that words could change everything. I only gave them what they needed."

"You gave them a mythology."

She shrugs and her hair falls over her shoulder as he watches. He reaches up, unable to stop himself and she laughs softly.

"I only gave them what they needed."

After that, there are no more words.

XX.

When Barsad returns after months of surveillance, Bane goes to Atiya's work room and announces, "Barsad has come to see you."

Atiya looks up from her desk and sits up, stretching her back as she turns to face him. Bane smiles to see her though it stays hidden under his mask.

Nevertheless, he knows she can tell.

"Good," she says, leaning back with a tired sigh. "Send him in, if you will."

He looks behind him and gestures for his brother to join them, stepping into the room to stand beside Atiya.

When Barsad enters, he freezes. And then he laughs, full and loud.

Atiya scowls and Bane rubs the space between her shoulders as a gesture of comfort. He knows she is sensitive about her current state; not so much about her appearance, for Atiya was never a vain creature, but she dislikes feeling ungainly, out of breath at the slightest exertion.

"I meant no disrespect, little sister," Barsad says with one hand held up in surrender. "Only, it has been quite a bit of time since I last saw you."

Atiya rubs the top of her belly even as she glares at Barsad. The effect of it is lessened though, with her fuller face and rounded curves. At six months, Atiya's small frame shows her pregnancy clearly and the doctors have told her that constant rest was needed due to the past hardships she'd endured.

Bane knows, without the doctors having said a word, they are watching the baby closely for any signs of the saif. So far, their child is healthy, although small.

Still, despite the fear he feels, Bane cannot help but feel pride each time he looks upon his Atiya. And it is no small claim that he can now call her his; after all, it is his child she carries.

"Ah, I've hurt your feelings," Barsad says soothingly. "Believe me when I say I am sorry- you are as beautiful as ever. Even more radiant. It is only out of joy I laugh so."

"She knows," Bane says. He feels Atiya exhale and her body relaxes against him. Her pregnancy has dulled her edges, thawed the ice a bit but she is still far from the warm, soft girl she was before. Only out of necessity does she yield to Bane and he knows she is still struggling with the decrease in her activity. She is no longer allowed in the lab and it has made her restless and irritable not to see things firsthand.

"Do you know yet?" Barsad asks him, gesturing vaguely and Bane looks down at her, the question in his eyes.

"A boy," Atiya answers for them. A genuine smile flits over her lips. "A son."

"Congratulations," Barsad says sincerely, though there is a trace of wistfulness in his tone.

"Thank you," Atiya allows graciously. She points at the folder in his hand. "You have information for me, I take it."

Barsad's face becomes serious and he nods. He hands her the folder and she begins to scan the pages inside immediately. It takes a great amount of will for Bane not to comment, though he feels a wave of jealousy course through him.

He had argued with her about the endeavor, of course- Gotham had been her father's downfall and her sister's obsession. The city and those who lived within were a curse to her line and Bane was unwilling to allow her to fall prey to it as her family had done. There were rumors, she'd told him, that needed to be followed up on. There were tales of a masked vigilante and she had to be sure, she could not rest, until she knew the truth.

The bodies of my family lie there, she'd said, I am tied to that place as they are.

Barsad had volunteered to go. Bane knew his brother felt a deep hatred for Gotham and so he could not speak against the man's journey. Atiya had promised him that he could see to Gotham personally as long as he gathered information for her first. It was a gift to her sister's lover, to their child's future godfather.

"Tell me, Barsad," Atiya says, not looking up, "did you find what we seek?"

"It is not the Batman," Barsad says. They had assumed that someone had picked up the cowl after Wayne's death but it seemed that was not the case. "Though it is a man. He wears a different suit though he uses many of Batman's old tools and he is smaller. He moves differently as well, more agile."

Atiya makes a small, thoughtful sound. She looks up at Bane and he tilts his head to the side. He says, "Wayne may have passed the responsibility onto a successor before his sacrifice. He had the time between his return and his death to do so. And Fox could easily have assumed his former role, crafting similar instruments for the man."

"Do we know who he is?" Atiya asks Barsad, placing the folder aside on the workbench. "Does he have a name?"

"I was not able to find his identity," Barsad said with a deep frown, "but he has taken a title. It seems the papers have taken to him as well. He is referred to as Nightwing."

Shock fills Atiya's features and her eyes seem to grow dark. For a moment, she says nothing, even as Bane says her name. He worries for a moment that she's felt something inside, something wrong, but then she stirs and looks away into the distance.

"Well, well," she says finally. Her voice is faint but she smiles, sharp and bright like the edge of a knife.

It reminds Bane of a frozen lake and of cracks that lay waiting to pull people towards their death.

"He calls himself Nightwing. How sweet."

The End.

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