Chapter Text
“Home, where I learned the truth about despair, as will you. There's a reason why this prison is the worst hell on earth... Hope. Every man who has ventured here over the centuries has looked up to the light and imagined climbing to freedom. So easy... So simple... And like shipwrecked men turning to sea water from uncontrollable thirst, many have died trying. I learned here that there can be no true despair without hope. So, as I terrorize Gotham, I will feed its people hope to poison their souls. I will let them believe they can survive so that you can watch them clamoring over each other to "stay in the sun." You can watch me torture an entire city and when you have truly understood the depth of your failure, we will fulfill Ra's al Ghul's destiny... We will destroy Gotham and then, when it is done and Gotham is ashes, then you have my permission to die.”
…
Bruce walked out to the base of the colossal shaft, out of his cell, that led to the surface. There, in waiting on the bottom of the pit was a large pool of stagnant green water. Greasy scrum floated on top of the pool, but not deep enough to cushion a fall from that kind of a great height.
He lifted his gaze up. It wasn't like he planned to fall into the water.
One of the prisoners wrapped the safety rope around him. It seemed like a thousand feet, with the sunlight out of his reach. He can sort of see what Bane meant about hope.
Bruce began to rock-climb, making sure to keep it slow and steady. Excited voices rose from the curious prisoners who had gathered to watch.
The chanting began.
...
“…But what he could not know was the true price of his freedom.”
…
A black-haired, blue-eyed child stared at his prison. The physical was meaningless when the true trap lies in his own mind.
He had grown up in the Pit. For the price to be paid. For his arrogance and his hate.
…
“Innocence cannot flower underground. It has to be stamped out.”
…
The child had his moments of sorrow and pain. This rage carried him, strangling the betrayal that poisoned his veins. It caught his mind, wishing for a brief moment, that he ceased to exist.
Something contradicting whispered in his head. A part of him that still waits for the day that he would take him far away from the place.
…
“The child had a friend…a protector who showed the others that this innocence was their redemption. It was to be prized. The mother was not so lucky.”
…
“Why did Grandfather have to do this, mother?” Icy blue eyes stared at Talia, her heart breaking to a thousand pieces at the sight of her child.
She cupped his cheeks, and said, “To be strong is to suffer, Danyal. Suffering builds character.”
Danyal closed his eyes, refusing to let the tears fall down.
..
“An heir to ensure the League of Shadows fulfills its duty to restore balance to civilization.”
…
Bruce plunged down to the shallow pool, the ledge slipping away from his fingers. The fall jolted his aching spine, gritting his teeth from the near impact on the hard stone wall.
“I told you it could not be done.” The prisoner said as he removed the rope around Bruce.
Bruce, still dazed from his near-escape, said, “You told me a child did it.”
The man chuckled. “But no ordinary child. A child born in hell.”
…
Danyal watched in despair as his protector lifted him to the climbing wall. But with no choice, he took a climb. Forced to leave his protector behind who was being swarmed over by the prisoners.
He reached the fatal precipe as his protector's words whispered in his head.
lā tastaslim Danyal.
He never tried to jump, unlike the other prisoners. There wasn't any point to escape. But his protector bid and fought for Danyal's freedom. His icy blue eyes glanced down at his only ally, who was losing against the horde of bloodthirsty mob with knives and stones.
For an instant, the child was tempted to turn back and fight, at least just to save his savior. But his eyes made contact with his ally.
Yadhhab, his savior ordered silently. Ghadir.
…
“A child forced by suffering, hardened by pain. Not a man from privilege.”
Bruce closed his eyes, despair eating him on the inside.
…
Danyal was just a freak. It was why he was cast out. The Lazarus kid who was born in this pit of darkness, yet he can’t even control it. Can’t tame what was meant to be his living. What was the point of it when the shadows had betrayed him?
One look at him, it was as if they wanted to lock something monstrous inside of him.
There was something about him that defiled his actions. Ever since his death. But it should have been praised that he had managed to conquer it, something to celebrate that he finally mastered this fear.
Instead, it lied to him. It entrapped him in this hell, holding him captive. His soul tearing apart as if this place meant to kill him.
…
Bruce did countless push-ups, squats, and stretches to the point he forgot to eat and sleep. He hasn’t worked out in years. Lost his spirit long ago, but now he needed to be stronger and faster if a mere child can do the jump. What Bane was doing was cruel. Corpses were strung up on the bridge with bloody flags wrapped around them.
He's destroying my city.
“He says the leap to freedom is not about strength,” the blind prisoner spoke up, translating the blind doctor's words.
“My body makes the jump.” Bruce countered, his head still can't shake the image of those bodies hanging from the bridge, those attacks on the football stadium...
The blind prisoner cackled, surprising him for a moment with his broken English, “Survival is the spirit. The soul.”
“My soul’s as ready to escape as my body.” More so.
“Fear is why you fail.”
“No, I’m not afraid.” Bruce shook his head. He can’t anyway. “I’m angry.” He delivered it with a fast punch, imagining Bane's face in front of him, letting his fury drive him. I'm coming for you, Bane.
…
Why do we fall?
…
Immortality was only cheating. This pit was a literal hole.
Danyal chuckled at the irony. He knew if he wanted to escape, he needed to mend his spirit to be out of this pit of darkness.
Those who entered the pits were meant to be driven insane.
But Danyal wasn’t exactly sane. This veneer of sanity that hid this raging warrior like an animal. That prowled into the desert and mountains. He had lived in this pit of madness.
...
“You do not fear death. You think this makes you strong. It makes you weak.” The blind doctor spoke, washing away the memories of his dad back on the well.
“Why?” Bruce asked. I don't understand. I had fought to overcome my fear.
“How can you move faster than possible, fight longer than possible without the most powerful impulse of the spirit: the fear of death.”
It's about self-preservation, Bruce realized.
“I do fear death. I fear dying in here, while my city burns, and there's no one there to save it.” Bruce spoke softly. He doesn’t want to die. For once, he has to live. Or else his city will be beyond saving. But to do so, he has to move past his despair.
“Then make the climb.”
Bruce scoffed, easier said than done after his last two attempts. “How?”
“As the child did. Without the rope. Then fear will find you again.”
Bruce considered. For once, perhaps there was truth to this. He had honed his skills and fortified his mind to not let such fear overwhelm him. But this would mean it was his last attempt because of that risk.
…
Danyal was more than his scars. Usually, scars were the signs of his victory, instead, it was looked as if it was something to be ashamed of whenever he failed his missions. He was always seen as something pitiful in the League of Shadows. A product son of a traitor and the daughter of Ra’s Al Ghul.
If his katana was meant to kill his opponent, then his nightmares were the ones to cut any terror when awake, leaving a wound in his mind sharp enough to break him.
…
Bruce needed more than hope to be able to take a leap. It needed to be the rawest form of hope in order to face his greatest fear, to take the risk without the rope.
To truly master his fear, he has to not let himself fall back onto safety and precautions.
…
Danyal was reminded once again of the myth of the Pit. The waters were said to regain their strength and youth. Instead, it was an ancient prison that’s been there for over hundreds of years.
He wondered for one moment if that was how Grandfather Ra’s al Ghul always looked young as he ever saw him.
It would make sense whenever Danyal got injuries and broken bones, it was healed as if it was never there in the first place the next day. Maybe there was some kind of supernatural power in this pit.
His icy blue eyes gazed at the sky. The distant glimpse of sunlight taunted him. What does it mean to be alive? What is worth knowing? What does it mean to be wise? Who can live the good life?
…
He made the climb not as Batman but as Bruce, the little boy who has always been stuck in the pit of darkness till his father carried him out. But now, he’s here, alone, with his broken spirit and broken will.
The pain that he can never let go of.
The fear that had controlled him all his life forced him to become Batman in the first place.
But Bruce Wayne has never returned. He has never left “the cave” in his life. Been taught to embrace his fear and become fear, or to become one with it so that fear would fear itself.
He didn’t need the rope. It was only holding him back from jumping too far without pushing him back.
To truly rise above, he needed to break the barriers he had placed upon himself.
Make the climb as the CHILD.
Break the shackles of Batman and Wayne. These structural identities had become a chain of his life. He did the climb as carefully and methodically as possible. Impatience would be the death of him. Raw fury was just carelessness.
The familiar chanting began anew. Rise.
As Bruce hoisted himself up onto the precipice, close to the fatal jump, something about the view momentarily transported him back to the abandoned well, so many years ago.
Something exploded from the cliff face. Bruce flinched at the sound of a screech. A swarm of bats suddenly found his way, nearly buffeting his face, surprising him for a brief moment. There was something symbolic of his fear of bat coming to haunt him again before the jump, like an omen. His fear of finding Bruce once again.
He watched the bats fly, but instead into the darkness, they rise into the light.
His mouth went dry as the chanting grew more insistent and louder. Closing his eyes, imagining it all. He did fear for his life. But...
He didn’t need his father to hold his hand to pick himself up again.
He didn’t need Rachel’s encouraging words who had brought light to his life and his wish for stability again.
Not even Batman can save him from his fear.
But he feared for Gotham even more.
All he needed was to take a breath and open his eyes.
This time. He embraced the fear of death and took a leap.
…
Fear of death? Please. He was the definition of death himself.
Danyal can’t be scared of death when it has followed him all his life. He eyed the large gap, knowing that even the most elite warriors of the League of Shadows would have failed to transverse.
He imagined, for one brief moment, the life outside this Pit. Images flashed through his head. He can see it. He can build it. He can make it.
It wasn't the process that was the problem. It was the end point of this.
He wasn’t afraid of falling when he knew how to fly.
His strength lies elsewhere. It was in his blood. He’s not an ordinary child. He’s the son of Talia and the Bat…that should be enough.
The jump was for the ordinary.
He must fly.
…
“So we can learn to pick ourselves back up.”
…
It was time to stop being the Dark Knight who comes out in eternal darkness. A creature of the night.
It was time for Bruce Wayne to fight into the light.
Bruce climbed himself out of the hole and found himself in some kind of formidable desolation. The sun beat down on him as he climbed the last few feet to freedom.
A vast desert greeted him that seemed to stretch for miles in every direction, but there was a stone fortress that beckoned in the distance.
It was time to save his city.
…
“The pit is used as a prison, and from the prison, he gains his legacy.”
…
Danyal stared at the destruction of Gotham. Staying by the shadows, watching the chaos in front of him.
He watched as the city mourned for their hero. Most would remember Batman for his sacrifice. Some of his allies would mourn for Bruce Wayne.
The teen could only mourn for his chances. His mother. Despite their strained relationship, she had loved him in her own way. And now his father, whom he never got a chance to meet. That it was there, within his reach, but failed to grasp with only a few glimpses of him.
He turned away. If the Pit taught him anything, it was being Danyal nearly killed him.
Perhaps it was better to leave Danyal al Ghul behind.