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The Darkest Song	By : AsylumWritings Category: DC Verse Comics > Batman Views: 396 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Batman/DC Comics, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Unspoken
- 2-No Surrender
- 3-All Talk
- 4-Escape
- 5-Pushed
- 6-Help
- 7-Proven
- 8-Hurt
- 9-Truth
- 10-Night Talk
- 11-Attack
- 12-Home
- 13-Fear
- 14-Together
- 15-Trapped
- 16-Nepal
- 17-Fury
- 18-Recovery
- 19-Work
- 20-Fight
- 21-Moving On
- 4
- 5
- 6
I'm frightened by what I see
But somehow I know
That there's much more to come
Immobilized by my fear
Whisper, Evanescence
I drifted in and out of sleep on the hard surface, only waking fully when I was suddenly yanked off the floor. Wearily opening my eyes, I panicked when I realised I was a foot in the air, held up against the wall by Bane. His hands were wrapped tightly around my arms, squeezing so hard I could barely feel my fingers. Someone had uncuffed me while I was out, but with the grip on my arms, I couldn’t appreciate the movement.
“Who did you tell?” He asked, absolute fury darkening his eyes.
“No one.” I snapped back.
He threw me to the ground, sending me sliding along the concrete. I hit the wall hard, and tried to pick myself up, only to have a phone shoved in my face. A news report was playing, and I didn’t want to watch, but I had to.
“A representative of the GCPD has informed us that they are investigating a known mercenary group here in Gotham. It’s unknown at this time who this group is, or why they’re here, but we will update as we receive information.”
I looked up at Bane, feeling like the panic was making my throat close up. Kieran was smarter than that, he would never have gone to the police. I didn’t know who had told the police about what was going on, but I was sure it wasn’t him.
“Who did you tell?” Bane demanded, crouching in front of me.
“Fuck. You.” I tried to breathe, but it wasn’t easy in my panic.
He wrapped his hand around my throat, lifting me up against the wall. His fingers dug into the sides of my neck, making me dizzy as he cut off the blood flow to my brain. I scratched at his hand, trying to stop myself from passing out. But nothing I did seemed to make a difference. He didn’t even flinch as my nails scraped along his skin.
“I’ll tell you…” I wheezed, the panic nearly consuming me. “Please…”
He dropped me to the ground, and I rubbed at my neck, trying to get the blood flowing again.
“I told my ex. But he wouldn’t have told the police.” I whispered, carefully picking myself up. “He isn’t stupid.”
“You haven’t exactly given me reason to trust you.” He stood in front of me, crossing his arms over his chest.
I nearly laughed out loud. “You kidnapped me from my home, held me against my will, and you just attacked me. I don’t have to give you shit.”
He grabbed me, pulling me close. “If you do anything to obstruct the work I’m doing here, I will kill you.”
“Go ahead.”
Taking hold of my chin, he yanked my head up. “Don’t push me.” Then he shoved me back and stormed out of the room, locking me in.
I burst into tears, slumping to the floor. Taking gasping breaths, I tried to bring myself back from the edge of panic. What was I even doing? I’d basically just made everything worse by running.
Closing my eyes, I sang to myself inside my head, until I was eventually calm enough to sing out loud.
He stood outside the room, listening to her soft singing. It was strange how she seemed to just switch straight back to calmness. She wasn’t reacting in any way he was used to, and even with all his knowledge and intelligence, he had no idea why.
"What do you need?” Barsad asked, walking down the corridor to him.
“I need you to find everything you can about her. Go to Central City and find out whatever you can.” He replied, leaning back against the wall.
His right hand man hesitated. “I don’t understand. Why is she so important?”
Bane glared at him. “I don’t pay you to understand. I pay you to do what I say. Now go.”
I leaned against the wall, staring at the floor. I had no idea how long I’d been in the room, because with no windows, there was no way to tell whether the sun had gone down or not. I’d slept, but not for more than what felt like a few hours.
I didn’t say anything when the door opened, and Jack walked in with some food. He placed it down beside me, hesitating.
“I don’t think he wants to kill you.” He said quietly. “I wanted to get you out of here, but he won’t listen to me.”
“I don’t need your help.” I wrapped my arms around my knees, looking down at my feet.
He sighed, leaving the room. I wasn’t hungry, and I just wanted whatever was going to happen to happen. I couldn’t stand all this waiting, especially since all the reassurance that I wasn’t going to die just made me certain that I was.
Nearly everything I’d said to him so far was a lie, and I knew it would only be a matter of time before he found out what I’d done in Central City. I didn’t know if it would change anything for him to know what I was really running from, but that didn’t mean I wanted him to.
My stomach began to grumble, and I finally decided I should eat, even though I didn’t want to. Simply because I had no idea if they were suddenly going to decide to starve me or anything like that.
“You were only there for forty-eight hours. Did you really find what I need that quickly?” He asked, watching as Barsad walked into the room.
“I didn’t even need that long. She left a trail there.” He placed a thick police file down on the desk. “They were very curious about why I was asking, but I didn’t tell them we have her. The captain wanted to make sure I understood that she’s dangerous.”
Bane looked up at him, mildly surprised as he opened the file. He barely heard Barsad leave, his attention immediately on the pages in front of him. He knew she was keeping something from him. As he read through the long lists of crimes and evidence, he realised that she was far more interesting than he’d previously thought.
I was lying on the cold floor, trying to get some sleep, when I heard footsteps coming down the corridor. I’d definitely been there for more than four days at this point, because I’d asked Jack when he’d brought my food a couple of hours ago.
The door slammed open, and Bane stormed in. He grabbed me by the shirt and yanked me up off the floor. I barely had a chance to react before he dragged me upstairs to his office and threw me into a chair. As he tied my arms down, I debated whether I could fight and run, or if that would be useless.
He pushed me towards the desk, and I looked down to see a bunch of police forms with my old name on them. I felt my blood run cold as I realised he knew everything. Every crime I’d committed, every life I’d taken, he knew it all. And he knew I’d been lying.
“What do you want?” I asked quietly.
“I want answers. I want the truth, and I want to know how you have managed to hide in Gotham for five years.”
I shook my head, trying to stop the tears that were threatening to well up in my eyes. They weren’t tears of guilt for what I’d done. They were fear. My mask was slipping, and it wouldn’t be long before he realised how scared I actually was. He punched me, his fist connecting with my jaw and sending my head snapping sideways.
The pain shocked me out of my fear, and I nearly laughed. “If you’ve read my file, you already know enough. Beating me up won’t get anything more out of me.”
Blood was steadily filling my mouth, but I swallowed it. I was in pain, and I knew talking back to him would make this worse, but I didn’t want to discuss the mistakes I’d made.
“Why are you doing this?” I looked up at him, ignoring the small drop of blood that had managed to escape my lip and was now rolling down my chin. “You don’t really want my whole life story, and I wouldn’t give it to you anyway.”
He pulled out a photo from the file, showing it to me. I flinched when I recognised when it was taken. I was standing in a bank, watching the hostages. In the background was my masked accomplice.
“I robbed a bank, so what?”
“You did it without a disguise. Do you enjoy the risk?”
I furrowed my brow in confusion, no idea where he was going with this. “It wasn’t about the risk. I didn’t need a disguise, because I could talk my way out of anything. What does it matter?”
He didn’t reply, just kept flipping through the file. Thoughts began to swirl around my mind, wondering what he was planning. The panic was back now, and I fought against the ropes holding my arms to the chair.
“What do you want from me?”
He pulled the chair forward, slamming the desk against my chest. “You asked me to trust you, then you lied and tried to escape. I want to know why you ran from Central City, and why you refuse to accept my offer.”
I gasped for breath, slightly winded. “If you’d just asked me, I probably would have. But you kidnapped me. I owe you nothing. Not the truth, not my power. Nothing. I won’t run again. I trust you just as little as you trust me, so I will not work for you until I do.”
He leaned towards me, and I held my breath, scared that he was going to hurt me. But then he cut the rope from my arms.
“You’re letting me go?”
“Not exactly.” He picked up the file and threw it in the bin. “But I want you to be able to trust me, so I won’t keep you tied up.”
I stretched my arms. “I don’t understand why you want me anyway. I’m not a mercenary, and I’m not trained.”
“I don’t need any other trained people. I need someone who can get into places I can’t.” He leaned on the edge of the desk. “You are uniquely talented, and can clearly talk your way into places where my men and I would stand out.”
I hesitated, torn between the fear I was still dealing with, and the realisation that what he was offering was actually worth thinking about. He went back and forth between terrifying and strangely calming, and I didn’t understand what was going on. But something made me want to tell him at least a little of my story.
“I… When I worked out what I could do, it didn’t take long before I realised how useful my powers are. I tried so many different things, I killed, I stole, I blackmailed.” I crossed one leg over the other, awkwardly resting my hands on my knee. “Whenever the police came past, it was easy to convince them that they were wrong about me, and they would just leave.”
“If things were going so well, why did you run?” He reached out, hesitating for a moment when I flinched, but then gently wiping the blood from my chin.
“I dated the wrong guy. He took advantage of what I can do, pushing me further than I wanted. When I got sick of it and refused, he went and told the police how my power works. So when they came for me again, it was a lot harder to influence them. I managed to get away, but I couldn’t stay there. So I changed my name, dyed and cut my hair, and ran. I sometimes miss being Alice, but I’m not her anymore.”
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The Darkest Song