Just a story I started writing after I gave birth. I was dealing with some PPD and it really helped me get away from it all.

"Hey sweetie,"

I heard the cat call before the whistling started. I never found myself much to look at, I was a heavier set girl, I had curves to be sure, but I also had that extra few pounds. You wouldn't know it by looking at me.

"Come on honey, don't be like that."

I walked faster, my backpack slung over my shoulder was full of books and a few simple art supplies, my life rested in that backpack. I looked around and saw no police, for some reason I seemed to have mindlessly wandered into an empty part of town.

"Well shit," I cursed under my breath at my luck. I looked ahead and saw construction vehicles near the water drains and tunnels. I used to play in them when I was a kid. I've since become more wary of the dark. Gotham was never a nice place to begin with, but after the crazy of Crane and the Joker I was beyond paranoid.

"Sweetie we'll treat you real nice, just wait up."

I glanced back, there were 5 of them, and they were all walking briskly to try to keep up with me. I glanced at the trucks ahead and to the drains; surely I would run into help, if not then at least I could get away. The sewers went on for miles; I could lose them and just wait it out. It's not like I had anywhere to be.

I checked my shoes, laces were tied. I tightened the straps on my backpack, no need to be flopping around now. I looked out at the silent street, once again, odd for mid afternoon. I glanced back; two of them were catching up. I looked toward the entryway, and I ran.

I heard my steps hit the pavement each and every time; I could hear my breath coming out in deep puffs as I tried to remember every breathing technique for running I knew of. The darkness was farther down the tunnel than I had expected, I heard my footsteps echoing through the concrete and I was instantly unsettled. I heard them though, behind me, faster than before, or was that just the echoes?

It didn't matter, I quickened my pace. Once the darkness hit me I knew that I had the advantage. I could see them coming better than they could see me. I kept running. I was terrified I would trip and fall, but I kept going. I saw a dim light ahead, I peeped around the corner to see a grate shining light from the street down into the dark, I saw another passageway, I glanced behind me and took it. I heard the group catch up to my spot, they were coming.

The passage was small; I tried to be quiet so I could hear them. The steps were faster than mine but I kept a brisk pace while being quieter. I saw an opening at the end, why was there so much light in the tunnel? Had I reached the construction crew? I burst out and looked to my left, the sound of the men closing in on me like hounds behind me, only to see two men staring at me with disbelief. I looked again and realized they had guns, automatic guns, and bulletproof vests, and they looked nothing like construction workers. I hit my heels and felt my ankle pop a little bit, and turned tail to the right. With a group of idiots chasing me and two mercenaries I was done. That's when I heard the shooting, I looked back to see the mercenaries had shot into the passage I had come from. Even though they may have saved me, I did not feel safe stopping to say thank you. I kept running, looking back every so often to see if I was being followed, surprisingly I wasn't. I heard water up ahead, maybe there was a storm drain I could get to. My books would be ruined but maybe I could salvage my life. I looked back once more as I rounded into the light, when I looked back forward I was too late to stop myself from slamming into something head on.

I fell to the ground and felt every rib in my chest strain, I gasped for breath that felt like it wouldn't come. My back was on fire for landing on my backpack, those damned books. I tried to roll over but could only manage to hold my hands to my chest and curl over to my side. I wheezed for a few more breaths and tried to look around; there were men with guns everywhere. I was not in a good place. I looked back to what I had run into, hoping for a cement pillar I turned my curl slowly and saw a giant of a man with an odd mask over his face. His eyes were hard on me, I'm sure I looked like a fish trying to breath. I could feel how red my face was from the loss of breath; I was huffing and puffing as I rolled over on my stomach to lift myself up.

There was instantly some pressure on my back pushing me to the floor, that's when my fight or flight kicked in and I struggled; hard. Whatever was holding me down pressed a boot behind my neck just above my pack and stepped, I was face down in the cement and my throat was being crushed.

"Do either of you care to explain THIS?" The giant man was talking to the two men I had passed earlier, they looked terrified of this giant man with his boot on my neck, then again I was terrified of him too.

"She came running through a small connecting passage Sir; she saw us and ran the other way. She was being chased by 5 men, they are not a threat and have all been taken care of." One of the men spoke quickly, he was wearing a green vest with a red band around his arm, and the other had a black vest with a dirty looking red shirt underneath. They both kept eyeing me back and forth.

"She is alone then?" The words sounded so raspy and foreign coming out of the mask where the man's mouth should have been. The mask looks like it had tubes over his mouth area; I could not begin to fathom the purpose they served.

"Yes Sir, no one else followed after the men. She is alone and, as far as we could tell, wanted and had nothing to do with them." Black vest was trying to plead me a case; I saw the worry in his eyes. Was I about to be killed? Stomped to death in a sewer?

The boot was replaced with a hand and another on one of my arms, lifted me to my feet and spun me around. I was shaking now, this man was massive; he wore black cargo pants with what looked like knee pads, also a green and tan vest with metal pieces all over it. His hand closed around my throat and I struggled to breath. I coughed and sputtered as I felt the air being pressed out of my throat. I tried to claw at his arms and hands but his eyes were cold and never left mine. He walked back toward what looked like a gate; he slid it back and walked down a dark hall. I struggled to keep up as his steps were massive and I was short and slow by nature.

His hands were massive and calloused, his strength was amazing, and he was practically dragging me by my throat down this hallway. I was certain I was going to die, tears slid down my face as he man handled me into a room with a giant metal door. In the room were a made bed, a small nightstand, a desk and chair, and a small bathroom off to the side behind a curtain. Whoever they were, they made sure living down here wasn't so bad, I figured there were more of these rooms elsewhere.

I was whipped around into the room and fell on my back again, this time I heard a loud pop and knew I may be in trouble. The fluorescent lights over the bed and desk lit the room dimly. I rolled over as fast as I could and tried to scramble toward a wall. I heard the door slam shut and turned around. I was alone. I frantically looked at every corner of the small room until I was sure that I was not dreaming. Sliding up the wall I leaned on its coolness for support. I closed my eyes and breathed deeply, trying to find out how tight my back really was. Glancing over the room and finally coming to rest on the door, I began to slide my backpack off. Feeling a sudden queasiness I ran to the commode and let loose what little I had in my stomach. I felt awful and spent. My whole body was wrecked, I was tired. Gathering my backpack I sat in the corner across from the commode and the bed, it put me closer to the door but I could see the whole room easily and the corner felt good on my back. Sitting straight I tried to twist my back to pop it but just made it feel worse.

Straining for breath I tried to walk off the pain by pouring over the desk and the papers on it. Permits, maps, letters, and notes covered its surface. The bed had a large black comforter on it, the kind that is sort of thick but it's not soft and fuzzy. The nightstand held a small lamp and inside the drawer was a pen but nothing more. I relaxed into my corner and let the times catch up with me. I was a prisoner. There was no doubt about that. If I was to die then it would not be now and if I was to be let go I assumed he would not have thrown me in here.

Who was he? The question kept my eyes from closing all the way. I hugged my backpack to me and wept. I let the tears carry my mind away so that I could sleep, and sleep I did.

When I woke up the lights were still on, the twilight feeling of the room made it hard for my eyes to adjust at first. Scanning the room I realized I was alone still, I got up and put my ear to the metal door, it was cool against my cheek. I couldn't hear anything on the other side but something told me not to open the door. I paced the room a bit and tried to stretch my shoulders and back, my ribs could still feel the stiffness of falling hard. I wandered over to the desk and let my eyes wander over the papers again that held my attention last night. I could see designs for weapons, blueprints for vehicles I had never seen before, maps of the sewer and of Gotham above.

Gotham above. The words rang out in my mind, I looked up at the ceiling only to find more concrete and some wires. My sighs did not echo as they did in the draining sewer where I had run off into, they fell hard against the walls and flat to the floor. I looked back to the desk and my eyes caught chemical formulas, the notes were written by two different people; one had very beautiful cursive writing that flowed over the pages, the other was blocky and sharp, the permits were for construction crews and points all over the city. I moved some papers near the wall around and found a few books, mostly automobile engine books and tools. One volume caught my eye buried under a manila folder, The Art Of War. Sun Tzu was a wonderful teacher; I picked up the text and went back to my corner. I dared not touch the bed.

On sitting back in my spot I noticed a small cupboard over the bed that I hadn't noticed before. There was a lock on the doors so my curiosity would have to remain intact. I settled in against my backpack and began to read, I soon found myself dozing off, and I was still so tired. I tried to keep reading but after a few minutes I could no longer hold myself up. I curled up on the floor using my pack as a pillow and rocked myself to sleep. The cold of the floor creeping through my jeans and into my bones; I held myself close and dreamed of open fields and lush forests.

The door slammed open and instantly I felt as though my heart exploded. I jerked around quickly, pinning my back to the wall, the book I had borrowed slid to the ground unnoticed. The giant man was now wearing a large brown jacket over top of his other clothing, if you can call it clothing. He dropped a large mattress and pile of blankets on the floor in front of me and slammed the door shut. I never took my eyes off him; he was huge and stood with a purpose.

"How much have you read?" His gaze pierced me and I could not bring myself to look at him, I felt like I had been struck dumb, I couldn't find words. "How much, and please, do not make me ask again." He squared himself across the mattress from me; I stared at his boots and tried to remember to breath. Trembling I picked up the book and tried to hand it back to him, he knocked it away with indifference. "Not the book little one, the papers on my desk, how much have you read?"

I shook my head no, "not very much I swear, I didn't understand any of it."

His chuckle was dark and robotic, "You are honest, which is good, I don't deal with liars well. But you did rifle through my things, and I cannot possibly know what you do and do not understand, so until further notice, welcome home." He spread his arms out and his eyes looked like he was smiling.

"I don't live here; people will be looking for me." Sitting up didn't help me very much, I'm pretty short when standing, and compared to him I was an ant while I was sitting.

"You are not a good liar little one, that's good as well." He took off his jacket and threw it over the chair as he walked to the bed. His vest came off next and he set it up next to his nightstand. I watched as he took a key out of his pocket and unlocked the cupboard above his bed. He pulled out a syringe and a small vial and drew some in. Next thing I know he plunged it into his arm; his face tightened up and then relaxed as he pulled the needle out. After a moment or two he reached back and pulled a few straps on the back of his mask, he pulled it off gently and placed it on the nightstand. He put the syringe and vial back and grabbed a few small packages of food. Sitting on the side of the bed he ate in silence.

Absorbing what he had said I picked myself up and straightened the mattress out and made my bed as best I could. I took my shoes off and sat on the bed Indian style and propped my backpack in the corner. When I turned around the man was wiping his hands off and coming towards me.

"Backpack, now" He opened his hand before me.

"They're just books and some art things and some money and stuff. It's nothing, and I'd really like to keep it please." I tried to sound reasonable through my shaking. I didn't realize how hungry I was.

"I do not like repeating myself. You will find me to be much more agreeable if you do as I say the first time." He reached past me and took my pack from the wall and shoved me down to the mattress. "I will not cause you harm but I will not be mocked or disrespected either. Do you understand?" He began to pull out one book at a time and lay them on his desk. The volumes stacked up and then came my sketchpads and pencil case. My wallet was last, at the bottom. My ID and library card were all it held. I may have had a few dollars but I couldn't remember.

"Yeah I get it, you get what you want, when you want it." I tried to sound stable and sure but it came out quiet and petulant. He glared at me and it made my insides tighten up. "Sorry." He must have heard my mutter because he put my pack down and started going through everything one at a time. Every book, every note, every sketch, and last my wallet.

"Madison Jade Trutter. Five foot four, one hundred eighty pounds, brown hair, brown eyes, 23. And what appears to be a library card and nothing else. How uninteresting." He zipped my pack back up and walked it back to me, dropping it on the mattress and crouching down to my level, although with his size we would never be on the same level.

"What do you go by?" He asked it like someone would ask what you called your dog.

"Madison, I used to have a friend who called me by my middle name but he was the only one. Everyone else just calls me Madison." I reached out slowly and gingerly tugged my pack back to me, I kept my gaze down but I could feel his eyes on my every move.

"You may call me Bane. You will remain with me until I so choose what to do with you. You will stay in this room and you will not leave or you will be shot. Do I make myself understood?" His face had scars across his mouth and nose, deep and angry looking. I nodded quickly. "You will answer me when I speak to you Jade." His voice cut me and shook me up inside. He was truly a terrifying being, his eyes could pierce metal.

"Yes, I understand." I hugged my backpack to me and kept my head down. My stomach churned from hunger and fear.

"We will be moving soon, you will be coming with us. After our plans begin I will decide further what to do with you. Consider yourself among the living and of the dead. Your life belongs to me. So do your things, so consider yourself lucky as well." He reached out and I shrunk back and closed my eyes, remembering the feeling of his hands around my throat. His right hand was wrapped in a leather gauntlet; he used the back of it to raise my chin up. I kept my eyes down until my head was raised too far, then I just closed my eyes. His hand tapped the side of my face and the leather was rough on my skin. I didn't open my eyes. He chuckled lightly before moving away back to, what I assumed was, his bed.

I opened my eyes slowly and saw he was still watching me in between bites of his food.

"What about clothes and a shower? And food? I'm so hungry I feel sick." My pack was behind me again creating a prop. I eyed the book that he knocked out of my hand.

"Food will be brought to you, what you are brought is what you have to eat. If you choose not to eat you will go hungry. I will find you another set of clothes and you can change them out, we will not be here long and when we move you will have access to a washer and dryer, you may then clean your own clothes. There is a shower in the corner. There is soap and I'm sure you can figure it out." He wiped his mouth again and threw away the packaging.

"I won't tell anyone about this. If you let me go I promise to keep my mouth shut. I don't have any family and my friend left. I'm alone and I sleep in the parks in town mostly. Come on."

"So you say, yet you are clean."

"The YMCA is still open, I can shower and a locker doesn't cost that much. I keep an extra set of clothes there to wear when I need to wash these."

"You carry only books. Not the sign of a homeless youth."

"Knowledge and books are kind of all I have. They are my personal volumes. The library card is so I have somewhere else to go. I love to read. I'm a nerd at heart I guess. But I love to learn things, I love to ask questions." I let my eyes stray to the book still on the floor. Lifting myself slowly I went and picked it up and set it down on his desk. "I'm sorry I was into your things."

His laugh was dark and husky; he had put the mask back on. Stealing a glace I walked back to my mattress. Content to be alone in my corner, I tried to ignore the eyes burning holes in the back of my head.

The door sounded like a shotgun when the knock came. The door opened loudly and in stepped one of the most beautiful women I'd ever seen. She held herself high, a proud gait to her walk. Her hair shone quietly in the fluorescent lights. Bane stood quickly, his eyes dancing at her sight, books had conveyed these feelings a hundred years over; he loved this woman very much.

"My dear Bane" She wrapped her arms around his torso and he hugged her gently back, his eyes closing. "What is this I hear about you getting a new friend?" She turned to face me and suddenly I felt like I was in a brilliant spotlight.

"She was an accident, running from people who would do her harm; she took a wrong turn and ended up here. She is innocent and has done nothing against us. But I could not let her go for obvious reasons."

"Of course, just make sure she doesn't get in the way." He nodded silently and then she turned her full attention to me. "You will follow my Bane's orders, or he will kill you, do you understand?" I had been asked this many times today, I felt slightly stupid.

"Yes Ma'am." I couldn't bring myself to look at her either.

"So polite, I like that. Keep that up and maybe we won't kill you when this is all over." She left quietly and I was alone again with Bane and an empty stomach. He kept his eyes on the door as it shut as quietly as a large metal door could.

Curling up on the mattress I folded the blanket over me. Bane turned off the desk light then the light over the bed. I held my breath in the instant darkness. I heard Bane chuckle again.

"On top of everything else, you're afraid of the dark? Very humorous." The bed creaked as he got into it.

I curled my hands inside my pack and pulled out my favorite book. A Midsummer Night's Dream; my favorite piece of literature, my favorite play. I held it close to my chest and wished that I was back in the park, lying under the stars where I could dream of being even freer. I dreamed of forests large enough to get lost in, of rivers and creeks running clear, of beautiful clear skies, and of the birds singing me into the twilight.