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“We were the happiest people we knew. And what’s the point of being together if you’re not the happiest.”
John is used to living on Xandar. Very boring. Very normal. He didn’t grow up there. He grew up in Knowhere. Much less boring. Much more dangerous. A planet made up of outlaws. Murderers, gamblers, thieves. He grew up there, anger festering in his bones. He grew up there with few friends who managed to live to adulthood. He grew up there with Bane. And he can admit that he loved Bane.
He loved Bane a lot.
He loved Bane until Bane stopped loving him back. When Talia appeared, it wasn’t a problem. Nobody ever comes to Knowhere for good intentions, but Talia—a childhood friend of Bane’s—came back for him. She stayed with them for a while. Bane and John had scrimped and saved every unit they could in the hope that maybe they could have a better life, and Bane gave it all to Talia without even asking him.
And then she kissed Bane. And Bane kissed her back. And Bane forgot about all the promises he had ever made to John. And John decided he had to leave. He had to go far away. He would steal a fucking ship if necessary. And when it came down to it, it didn’t take much effort. He didn’t plan it, so he didn’t pack. He was in the wrong place at the right time.
He happened to be by a group of men when fighting broke out. In the chaos, one man was killed. On Knowhere mass cremations were performed daily. Less mess. Less nostalgia. Took him a second of hesitation, and John switched out his identification for the other’s. Swapped enough things so nobody would come looking for him. And then left to find the man’s ship. He didn’t tell Bane or Talia a single thing. Didn’t need or want them with him. Fuck them.
So now, standing on the other side of the glass from them, John wearing a Xandar uniform, Bane in shackles, John reminds himself that he hates them. Tries to remind himself of getting hurt ten years prior, even though he doesn’t really feel much of it. Instead he thinks of the times there would be no space between them, sharing the same bed because they might as well, Bane telling John he loved him, no metal mouthpiece obscuring his lips as he kissed him and fucked him.
---
John isn’t surprised when he hears that Bane and Talia have escaped. He had read their files. Apparently the two of them have a knack for breaking out of prisons.
He worries for a few days that Bane might reach out to him and demand answers, but after a week passes and there’s nothing, he goes back to forgetting all about Bane and Talia. It’s been second nature to hide his past. He goes through his rounds and compartmentalizes.
After two weeks, he manages to forget enough that when he opens his personal email to find a message from Bane, he’s legitimately surprised. There are no demands for explanation of his deceit. It tells him instead of a planned attack on Xandar that will kickstart destruction of the entire galaxy, and how Bane is working on stopping it. Bane gives instructions on what they need Xandar police and military to do in order to help them.
John goes to Jim Gordon, and is thankful when he is believed.
---
When Bane and Talia are awarded and pardoned of crimes committed on Xandar, they do not speak to John. It’s not exactly upsetting.
They’re not friends anymore. Bane doesn’t owe anything to John.
John’s exfriends leave the planet, and he goes back to forgetting.
---
John has an apartment. It’s average sized. He’s thought about getting a house, but he hates the idea of being out in the country. He likes the constant hum of noise. He had thought he hated it back on Knowhere, but the moment it was gone and he had nothing but the silence of space, he realized how much he craved it.
He’s alone in his apartment going over reports when there’s a beeping notification of a visitor. John hasn’t even stood up and the door is opening.
Bane walks in, and the door closes behind him, trapping them in together. He motions for John to stay sitting, and pulls out a chair so he can sit across from him.
It’s quiet for a long while.
Finally Bane puts his hands on the table and leans forward. “I thought you were dead. I mourned you.”
“Sorry,” John says, feeling a little guilty that he’s not actually sorry.
Bane glances around at his surroundings. It’s very clean in comparison to their old home. It’s minimalist and neat, and nothing like the shitty hellhole they used to live in together, a cramped little place full of junk they would salvage or sell.
“You have a very lovely home.”
“Thanks.”
If they were two normal people, John would offer Bane something to drink. But John doesn’t want to play house. That’s never been who they are. On Xandar everyone has manners. They are all nice, all polite, because they can afford to be nice. When you’re rich, it’s so much easier to be generous.
On Knowhere, you don’t feed someone just because it’s polite. If you feed someone, you might as well be offering a declaration of love. You don’t let them in your house, you don’t offer them something to drink, you don’t let them get close. You only bring in people who you can trust, and even then, you never know how far you can really trust a person. You don’t offer people basic human decency because there is no basic human decency you can afford to give away.
Bane’s eyes flick over to the kitchen, and John’s flicks over at it too. He’s not about to budge. He’s not going to play that game.
Instead John smiles. “That was impressive what you did to keep the Infinity Stone safe.”
Bane shrugs. “It’s only what was necessary.”
“Yeah. Well you basically saved the whole universe, so it seems like a big deal. Xandar at least is indebted to you.”
“I don’t care about Xandar.”
John lets out a little huff of air. “Well, you saved the whole galaxy, so that’s kind of a big deal.”
“Robin,” Bane says, and John frowns. There are only a few people alive who know his real name, and the fact that Bane is one of those people irritates him. “We only saved Xandar because you live on it.” Bane reaches out his hands, but John withdraws his on instinct. “Forgive me.”
“It’s fine. You don’t need to apologize.”
“You ran away. You forged a new identity so you could hide from me. Forgive me.”
“It’s in the past. And I didn’t mean to hide specifically from you. I just needed to hide in general. You don’t need my forgiveness.”
“I do. Forgive me. I hurt you. Or else you never would’ve let me believe that you were murdered.”
Bane comes around the table and pulls out a chair so he can sit next to him, so close that Bane’s knees bump against John’s leg.
John’s breath catches. “I don’t want to.”
“I know,” Bane says, nodding.
“I still kind of hate you.”
“I know.” Bane takes off his mask. His struggles to breathe without it. His face is scarred and ruined. He sees John starring, and points at it. “I got this after you left.”
John nearly snarls. “Oh, and what? You want me to apologize for that?”
“No. It’s completely my fault.” He bows his head low and looks up at John. “I know you must hate Talia as well.”
“I don’t hate her,” John says pointedly. He doesn’t really. He puts the blame on Bane.
“I knew I wasn’t behaving correctly. I knew I was ignoring you for Talia. I knew I should’ve explained to her what you meant to me. But I didn’t.” Bane cups John’s face. “You got in the habit of disappearing for days at a time, and I didn’t even want to question it. I figured it all would balance out eventually.”
“That’s really smart thinking,” John says, as sarcastically as he can.
“When you didn’t return home, I kept waiting for you. I searched for you. Talia suggested the crematoriums, but I refused. When she brought back your personal effects, I had to murder the person who killed you.”
John does feel a pang or guilt there. Technically that man was a murderer, but he hadn’t murdered him.
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“Yes, I did.” Bane’s holding John’s face tight. “He took you from me. I had to kill him.”
Bane’s fingers dig into the back of John’s neck. John has never been a fan of violence for the sake of violence. He’s always seen it as a necessary evil. Murdering for revenge has always been something that never sat well with him. He had thought about it so many times after the murder of his father, but John never put those thoughts in action, too horrified at the thought of taking a life for a life.
And yet he moves out of his chair until he’s in Bane’s lap.
“I hate you.”
Bane nods his head. “I know.”
“I really fucking hate you.” He leans down and kisses him. Bane’s hands hold him steady. His fingers dig into his hips, until they move up to John’s neck and dig in there. When they pull apart, Bane’s lungs rattle. He has to catch his breath, but John doesn’t move. He doesn’t really care.
“You like living on Xandar?”
“It’s fine.” John shrugs. It’s not home, but it’s stable.
“They appreciate you here?”
They absolutely don’t. Xandar is full of nearly perfect people. The crime rate is low, and the people police themselves most of the time. John’s time in their military is more for practice maneuvers to be ready on the rare chance that they actually need to fight. “Sometimes.”
“You should come with me.”
John snorts. “Yeah? Where?”
“Anywhere you want.”
John worries his bottom lip. Thinks about the orphanage that he’s grown attached to and the kids who have gotten used to him.
“I can’t abandon my post here.”
“You can return here if you’d like. I’m sure Gordon would give you leeway.”
Bane’s forehead goes to John’s chest. His breathing has worsened. He probably should put his mask back on. John places a hand underneath Bane’s chin, gripping him across his neck, and tilts Bane’s head backward. He dips down again, kisses him, too much tongue, too much spit, too much like when they were young and wanted too much all at once.
John pulls away. Kisses him again, softer. And then grabs the mask where it had been abandoned on the table. It sounds like Bane is a minute away from collapsing, and John fits the mask back on him.
“Okay.”