A/N: Hello and welcome to Banishment and Redemption! This is a story I worked on some time ago that I was very devoted to. The first half of this story (the "My World" arc) is very much light-hearted, comedic, and romantic. The second half (the "His World" arc) is more like the Dark Knight movies. You know, all dark and gritty and stuff.

I hope you enjoy the story! All reviews/faves/follows are deeply appreciated

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Disclaimer: In the following chapters, I own absolutely nothing. All recognizable characters belong to the Dark Knight/DC franchise. The only things that belong to me are the original characters.

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-ACT 1 - MY WORLD-

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Ch. 1: Unexpected Visitor


Something really weird happened to me today. And I don't mean weird like someone actually held the elevator door open for me when I begged them to. I mean, suspiciously and frighteningly weird. As in, there's now a complete maniac seated on the sofa in my living room, only five feet away from me.

Oh, and not just any maniac either. Try the maniac who had contemplated blowing up my city only a few months ago with an atomic bomb.

"Bane is his name," the men in the black suits remind me as they wheel suitcase after suitcase into my apartment. None of them bother to look my way. "We're not sure if it's his real name or not, but you can just call him that."

"Sure, okay..." I hear myself mindlessly agreeing. Wait, what the heck am I saying? I shake my head and jump to my feet. "Wait, wait, wait. Why is BANE in my living room?"

The men continue wheeling in bags and suitcases, barely pausing to give me an answer.

"We'll sit down and discuss this before we leave, ma'am," they assure me.

"B-But..." I plead at one of the men who drops another load of suitcases into my arms. "You can't just... come into my home and drop off a crazy person!"

One of the shuffling suits finally stop to look at me. His cocky smirk makes me want to strangle him with his stupid, red tie.

"We're the government, ma'am," he quips with a jaunty grin. "We can do whatever we want."

I watch in shocked silence as they drop off the rest of Bane's suitcases. I can't even bring myself to look at Bane. I can feel his eyes watching me as I hurry after the suited men, but my twitching eyes make sure not to travel in his direction. The fear of fainting or simply snapping and pushing the whole group of them from the room is too great.

Finally, the men finish up. They drop the last of Bane's gazillion suitcases on the ground with an unceremonious thud and wipe their hands together in a manner that says "We're all finished here."

Really, what could a psycho possibly have that requires that many suitcases? Besides maybe to carry bodies in...

This is ridiculous. "Can someone please explain to me what the heck is going on?" I demand to know. "Why are you dropping off a criminal along with ten thousand pounds of luggage into my apartment?!"

"Now, calm down, ma'am." The youngest of the men holds up his hands in attempt at peace. The dark-haired officer has been the only person in the room who knows the meaning of the word "manners".

"I'll explain everything. Let's take a seat, if you don't mind."

The young man takes a seat on my tattered sofa, leaving me with the options of sitting right by Bane or to remain standing. I choose the latter. There is no way I'm getting within ten feet of the murdering madman.

The man waits for me to have a seat. When he realizes that I'm not budging, he clears his throat and begins. "I understand that this is coming as a huge surprise and for that, I apologize. You were supposed to be notified but our letter must have been delayed."

"Yes, this is most definitely a surprise," I snap while folding my arms across my chest. "I don't exactly expect the police to burst into my house and drop off people on a daily basis."

"You're angry," the man states. "And I can completely understand why. But, just let me explain..."

I wait.

"Bane is being put in a special program for criminals who we believe can be reintroduced to society as a rehabilitated citizen of Gotham City."

Citizen of Gotham City? I want to scream. The guy had tried to blow up Gotham City only a few months ago and now they want him to be a citizen of it?!

The detective continues, unaware of my inner ranting. "This program includes him being placed in a monitored environment where we, the police, will be able to watch his every move while he makes his first steps into society. We allow the criminal to choose the type of home and location that he desires. Bane asked for a secluded home with few family members. You fit the bill."

My mouth flops open uselessly. Did any of these people take into consideration that maybe, just maybe, he asked for those specific accomodations so he could easily murder the poor person in their sleep?

"B-B-But... What am I supposed to do?" I ask while grabbing at my black hair. "I'm only a college student. I don't have a psychology degree. I don't know how to take care of criminals!"

The police officer raises his hand to quiet me. "All of that isn't necessary, ma'am. We're just looking for someone to give him a nice, comfortable home while he gets back on his feet. All you'll have to do is be there to guide and support him. Your college professors say you're a sweet girl."

Oh, yes. I am the sweetest girl you'll ever meet until you force a criminal into my home. I can barely think of anything to say to all of this guy's rational talk. He's so calm and assertive that I find it hard to dredge up a rational argument.

"Isn't he...dangerous?" I say in a low voice, as if Bane wouldn't be able to hear me. He is able to hear everything quite well from his comfy position over there on my sofa. The giant of a man has made himself quite comfortable over there on my sofa. He's leaning back, arms folded across his expansive chest, dark eyes on us. I narrow my eyes at him and look back at the detective.

The officer frowns and scratches his brown hair. "I'm not gonna lie to you. He's pretty strong. And volatile at times, too. But he's just a man."

A man capable of murdering people twice my size, I want to say.

"Besides, we've gone through the trouble of giving you extra protection. Here." The officer tosses me a thin remote pad with a single silver button in the middle of it. I roll it around in my hands before looking at him.

"What's this?" I ask.

"It's a shock inducer. One press of that button and it's 10,000 volts sent to the metal collar around his neck."

I force myself to look over at Bane again. He is staring right up at the ceiling now, seeming bored with the whole situation. He is so freaking big. Like, muscular big. He looks like one of those WWE wrestlers. I glance at his neck and notice that there is a metal collar around his neck. It looks tight and uncomfortable.

"That sound a little… cruel," I admit as I study the shock inducer. He may be a criminal but 10,000 volts sounds extremely painful.

"Only use it when necessary, say, if he ever gets out of hand. We'll also have some on hand. We have the place loaded with surveillance cams and microphones, so we'll know the second something goes wrong."

They bugged my house, too? Today is just getting worse and worse.

The police officer stands up and brushes his dark pants off. "I think that about covers it, ma'am. We'll stop by every week or so to see how things are getting along. Just be the support that he needs during this time. It will only be for six months."

My mind finally wraps around the last part of his statement. "Six months?" I cry. Six months is just way too much. A week I could handle. Maybe even a month. But half a year? That's crazy!

"It'll fly by, once you get used to each other," he assures me. "Remember, he's a human being, just like you and me."

"I realize that..." I say with a huff. His mask is considerably scary but I realize he is still just a man. A big, scary, terrorist man.

The officer is heading for the door behind the rest of the suited men. I stalk after them, afraid to be left alone with Bane.

"This is crazy. Do I really have no choice in this?" I beg as we come to the door to my apartment. "Really?"

"Sorry, ma'am." The young officer tips his hat. "It's pretty final. You can always try for an appeal down at the court, if you want."

An appeal. With Gotham's huge population and crime rate, I'd have to wait months for a chance to get in front of the judge. By that time, I'd probably already be a goner.

The officer must have seen the hopelessness in my eyes. He studies me for a second before handing me a white card. I look down and see that it is his personal business card. "Robin John Blake", it read. "GCPD".

"Give me a call if you need anything. I have a… special interest in Bane. I also forgot to mention that you'll be paid for this at the end of six months. Twenty grand."

He leaves, closing the door behind him. I stare at the peeling paint of the old, white door while the sense of impending doom crawls into my stomach. I look out of the peephole and watch until their police cars are distant specks of white and black in the vast city. Even after they're gone from sight, I stare out into the city.

It feels like someone stuck a pin into my brain and let it slowly deflate into a big, gooey pile of matter.

What…the heck…just happened. Did those crazy cops really just burst into my apartment without asking, drag the man who called himself Gotham's Reckoning in, and then leave him here with every reason to believe I'd be okay with it?

This could be a scam for all I know. I glance down at this so-called "Robin Blake's" business card. To my dismay, it looks pretty official. If I recall correctly, I've seen the young officer on TV a few times.

I heave a sigh. Looks like he's the real deal. Which means I'm stuck playing babysitter to the masked menace back in the living room.

I take a deep breath and square my shoulders. Okay, girly. This is your duty to society. You will be monumental in the rehabilitation of one of the most dangerous criminals in all of Gotham's history. People will hold parades for you, cheer for you...

Or at least attend your funeral.

Time to go officially meet this Bane. I wring my hands in front of me as I slowly inch my way back to my living room. I'm relieved to find Bane in the same exact position as before. He's staring blankly at the cheap wallpaper plastering my cement walls. It's a pretty cheesy-looking wallpaper that I got on sale a while back. It's covered in lilac roses and their green, twisting thorns, both decorating the entire perimeter of the living room. I still don't know what enticed me to buy it other than the low price and my inability to say no to persistent salespeople.

I turn my attention to the hulking man seated on my sofa. His mask makes his breathing loud and distorted, like someone blowing through an AC unit. His dark eyes are vacant as they study my disgusting wallpaper. The black shirt and iron vest look uncomfortable, even from this distance.

"Um, hello," I say awkwardly. Bane does not take his eyes from the wallpaper. I clear my throat and try again, in a much louder voice this time. "I'm-"

"Roses."

His voice startles me. I have heard it before, months back. I had been watching him on television from my apartment as he gave the announcement that he had a giant atomic bomb beneath the city. It was strangely higher-pitched and optimistic sounding, like someone from a British musical.

"What?" I ask while stepping just a tad bit closer to him. "Roses?"

"Yes, roses," he repeats in that breathy, metallic voice. He is still staring at my wallpaper like an enraptured school boy. "They each have a different meaning to them, based on their color." He pauses. "Did you know that?"

"Um, yes. Yes, I did," I reply. Thanks to many lonely Valentine's Days and the internet, I know the meaning to nearly every shade of color a rose can be and which shades I could expect not to receive.

"What about your roses?" he asks. "Do you know what your roses mean?"

I look back at the wallpaper, at the smeared, faded purple roses. "I didn't think purple roses existed, actually."

"Oh, they do. And they have a meaning, as well. Maybe you'll find it out in your studies, college girl."

I nearly laugh at this. Who teaches anything besides stuff that turns your brain into mush at college? "Maybe I will. That would be a cool class." I smile and feel myself grow nervous again. "So, uh, my name is-"

"Rose. May I call you that?" Bane inquires in a pleasant voice.

I am ready to debate this but I decide to let it drop. Did it really matter? Besides, I wasn't one to argue over names with a guy who could crush me beneath his pinky finger. "Sure, if you want. Do you want me to call you Bane?"

"That would be nice."

"Well, okay, Bane. You can call me Rose." I brush my bangs to the side and force a tight smile. "Let's, uh, show you to your room, alright?"

"Oh, goody!" Bane says in a not-so-giddy voice. "Please, lead the way."

He climbs to his feet and stretches. TV did little to capture the mammoth size of this man. Standing up, his tall frame stretches easily past six feet.

His footsteps cause the entire apartment to quake just slightly. I'm in no mood to have that kind of person directly behind me, so I keep up the pace so that I'm more than five feet away from him.

I lead him to the last room in the hall. I swing open the door and step inside. "Here it is!" I say dramatically while waving my hands around the room. I instantly cross my arms back over my chest, feeling completely stupid.

The room is nothing to get excited about. It belonged to my old roommate, a girl named Christy, who cared little for cleanliness or hygiene. The only furniture in the room is a rickety bed layered with clean sheets that I recently washed, a tilting bedside table layered down by Seventeen magazines, a holey sofa, and a nearly empty bookshelf. All in all, it was pitiful.

"This will do quite nicely, thank you."

I startle at the sound of Bane's metallic voice sounding right beside me. I didn't even notice him enter the room! He must have some major ninja skills because a guy that causes mini-earthquakes when he walks can't have snuck up on me that easily!

I try to discreetly move away from him, back out the door. "So, I guess I'll let you unpack and get situated. Just let me know if I can help you with anything."

I escape out into the hallway and into the safety of the room directly across from his. I close the door behind me and inhale a few deep breaths.

I survived! I survived my first encounter with Bane and hadn't been brutally attacked! In fact, he had been strangely kind and easygoing. I'm not sure what I was expecting, to be honest. When I watched him announce to the world that he had a bomb under Gotham City, the guy had snapped someone's neck like it was a wishbone. Can you blame me for being terrified out of my mind? In fact, I wanted to barricade myself in this room and call my mama to come and rescue me.

But, twenty thousand dollars? I'm no money hungry rapscallion, but a college kid in possession of that much money could live an easy life, if they kept a good budget. Would the money be worth it? Not really, not if my neck got snapped like that poor guy's on television. I guess I really have no choice in this, though. All I can do for now is wait for six months to pass by...

…Which is an extremely long amount of time to be sharing a tiny apartment with someone who may be plotting to kill you this very second. And I enjoy my privacy. Very much. I like being able to come home and kick up my feet in my messiest pajamas. I like having a silent house to work on my current novel. I like having only a single mouth to feed.

Speaking of which, how the heck does this guy eat with a mask strapped to his face?

I glance over at the Tweety Bird clock hanging above my twin bed. 6:45PM. I suppose I should see if he's hungry...or if he even eats human food. For all I know, Bane could live off of the blood of frightened maidens.

I mentally gather myself together and shake my head around before opening my door.

"Eep!"

I nearly jump through the roof when I find Bane standing in my doorway. His towering frame nearly fills my entire doorway. I let out a little squeak and clutch at my chest, fearing I may have a heart attack.

Bane laughs. It sounds dry and metallic. "Did I frighten you, Miss Rose?"

"Juuust a little," I lie while holding up my finger and thumb to show how "little" he has frightened me. "Did you need something?" I ask after my heart has resumed its normal pace. Or were you just going to stand by my door all day without knocking, I silently add.

"You're in charge, Miss Rose," he says in a voice that leads me to believe this couldn't be further from the truth. "I merely came to see what you have planned for me next."

I'm in charge. Yeah, I'm in charge, big guy. That's right.

After pepping myself up a bit, I puff out my chest and nod. I don't exactly feel in charge but I'm sure gonna act like I am. "I was just about to ask if you're hungry. I could cook some spaghetti with meatballs, if you want."

That's right, Bane. I'm in charge. You get spaghetti and meatballs or nada. I make the choices around here.

Okay, I'm starting to sound like I have serious issues.

Bane, oblivious to my thoughts, speaks. "Spaghetti and meatballs?" He asks this like he's never heard of the meal before.

"Yeah," I say. "It's pretty good, you know. With the noodles and stuff." Ugh, I sound like an idiot.

"Then I suppose I'll try it," Bane concurs. I nod. There is still something I need to ask him but I'm almost too afraid to ask.

"Do you...I mean, like, can you...eat it? With your mask?" I finally bring myself to ask.

Bane's breathing echoes around my room. I almost want to dive under my bed, fearing that the volatile side of his personality is about to erupt like an explosive volcano.

He finally speaks, saving me from having to leap from my window. "I can most likely eat this spaghetti but not in the way you ingest it, Miss Rose. You see, behind this mask, I do have what's left of my mouth. It still functions, for the most part. Everything I eat must be liquid, but I can still eat."

"Ah," I say in a small voice. "Okay, gotcha. I'll drop yours in the blender." I smile at him and wait for him to move from my doorway so I can get to the kitchen. He doesn't move an inch.

Fudge-cakes. I'll have to pretend to do something else until he's moved away. Or tackle through him. That might get messy, though.

"Uh, you can watch TV or something in the living room while I cook, if you want. Or maybe read a book?" I point across the hall to his room, where the bookshelf stands in view. "I've got a couple of really good novels in there you might be interested in reading."

Bane still doesn't move a muscle. He continues to just watch me, like I'm some sort of science experiment. I'm on the verge of tears. I wish I could see if he is smiling or frowning at me, but with the mask on, it's impossible to tell.

I laugh awkwardly and decide to try and squeeze past him. "Well, I'll just squuueeeeze past ya, here...M-hm, comin' through." I mutter while I turn to the side and try to slide by him. Bane finally moves, if only to turn and face me in the doorway. Our chests brush against one another, that's literally how much room Big Guy gives me to squeeze past his humongous self. I'm not the slimmest branch on the tree, but I'm petite enough, and yet I still can't get past him without rubbing across him like some low-rate video vixen.

I give another awkward chuckle once I'm through the door then hurry to the kitchen. I take the ingredients for spaghetti out of the fridge and cabinet. My mind is in panic mode. Oh gosh, now I've ticked him off and he's contemplating how to kill me. He almost did it, back in the doorway. It would have been too easy for him to strangle me with those mammoth hands if he wanted to.

The eye on my stove is red. I place the giant pot of water over it and wait for it to boil. How was I supposed to know he could still eat food with that mask on? No one gave me his dietary plans. Now he already hates me and I'm stuck with him for 6 more months.

I pour the noodles into the pot of boiling water and heave a sigh. I rub at my temples and take a couple of deep breaths. As far as being a criminal's babysitter goes, I think I'm doing a pretty terrible job so far.

As the noodles cook and the sauce and meatballs simmer, I whip out my cellphone and dial the number they young officer gave me before he left me stranded here.

He answers on the first ring. "Detective Blake here."

"Hi, Detective," I say in my most pleasant of voices. "It's me, the girl you left Bane with."

"Oh, right! Hey, how's it going? Not too bad, is it?" he asks in an excited voice. He seems to have invested too much interest in Bane, like, an unhealthy amount.

"Well, I'm still alive, so that's good," I say quietly while peering around the corner of the kitchen to make sure Bane isn't listening in on me. He's not in the living room so I guess he took me up on my offer to read books. That or he's still glued in my doorway. That would be very awkward and terrifying if I have to pass him yet again.

"He's not dangerous, ma'am. He knows not to do anything while we have that collar on him," Blake explains. "It's a reminder of who's in charge."

Me? I barely feel like it. If Bane came up to me and demanded freedom, I would surely open the door and let him fly free.

"That's a bit reassuring," I say while stirring the noodles some. I don't want Blake to feel as though he's not making me feel a bit better, even if he's not. Just being able to call someone who has my back is reassuring, though. "Is there anything else I need to know about him? I know what and how to feed him now. Anything else of importance?"

"Let's see... Don't put him around any weapons, of course. We don't want any accidents," Blake warns. I swallow hard as he continues. "He's very good at persuading people. Don't let him trick you into anything. And, uh... have fun."

"Fun?" I scoff. "This isn't a theme park and he's definitely not some silly, big-eared mascot."

I growl under my breath when I hear Detective Blake laugh. "Heh, that was funny. But, no, no. I mean, let him experience life as a normal citizen. Take him places, let him learn. My sources tell me he was trapped in prison for as long as he can remember before that bomb mess."

Reenact the Bucket List movie. Check.

"Sure," I say in a tired voice. "I'll try to see what kind of activities a twenty year old poor college student and a thirty-five year old criminal can get into."

"That's the spirit, ma'am," Detective Blake chuckles. "Call me again if you have any problems or questions."

"Okay, thanks. Bye." I end the call and slide my phone into the pocket of my gray jogging pants. It's good to know there will be someone there for me during all of this, even if it's practically just a voice on the phone.

The spaghetti is finally done. Thank goodness. Having this kind of day really works up a girl's appetite. I fix my plate, topping it with loads of shredded cheese and Parmesan, before setting it aside. I look at the rest of the spaghetti.

How much should I put into the blender? How much does he eat? If I blend it, will it be like eating technically less?

Well, he's a big-looking guy. Let's just give him a lot. I pick up the pot and empty about two-thirds of what's left into the blender. I place the top on the blender and turn it on. The spaghetti quickly becomes a reddish-brown paste that doesn't look appetizing in the least. Does he actually have to slurp every meal down like this?

I put a pretty purple straw into the mixture, just in case he needs it, grab a water bottle, then head to his room. I'm surprised to find him seated on the holey couch like a gentleman, a large novel rested neatly in one hand. He barely looks like a villain in this moment, looking so intent while he reads.

I stand at the doorway, afraid to break the image of a normal man reading an interesting book.

"Why, come in!" His metallic voice shatters the image and brings me back to reality. I blink rapidly and focus back on him as a whole. He is staring at me expectantly. If the mask wasn't on, I'm sure there would have been a smirk on his face.

And of course I can come in. It's my apartment. I can do and go wherever I please.

Still, I hesitate a bit before walking into the room, still balancing his meal. "Here's dinner," I say in a happy voice. "I hope I made it okay." His dark eyes watch me as I approach him, making my inner child want to burst into tears and run from the room, crying. He is seriously scary in the darkened room with his black clothes on and creepy mask. Not to mention the fact that he probably hates my guts already for thinking him less of a person.

"I am not picky when it comes to such small matters," Bane says as I hand him the blender and water bottle.

"Great!" I say too cheerfully. "I'm not a super cook, so I'm glad you won't be picky." Gosh, I don't know how to act around this guy. My mind is telling me to be polite and courteous, as I always am to strangers. My body is telling me to run out of the room screaming after hitting him over the head with the blender filled with churned spaghetti.

Bane doesn't reply. He simply continues to watch me. He is really creeping me out with all of that staring. But at least he doesn't seem to be holding too much of a grudge against me.

"I'll be in the living room if you need me!" I say in a hurried voice before jetting out of the room. I grab my spaghetti from the counter and take a seat on the couch in the living room before switching on the TV. I need something, anything, to distract me from my reality at the moment. I'm pretty sure I'll be sent off to the looney bin by the end of the day, anyway. I still don't think my mind has fully processed my situation.

The 7 o' clock news is on. Candace Weaver, the perky, beautiful blonde reporter is on the screen, her pink-painted mouth twisted into a frown.

"Today, the police announced that they have formally released Bane, the man behind the Atomic Bomb Lockdown, into our city. They also released this statement, explaining their reasoning:

Detective Blake came on the screen, looking determined amongst the fierce cries of outrage in the growing crowd. "Bane is a criminal," Blake began in a strong voice. "A criminal that threatened the safety of our city. But he is also a human being. A human being that expressed his sincere desire to repent of his crimes and try again. Who are we to turn our backs on someone who is trying to turn around their own lives? If we allow this criminal, this man, another chance at life, perhaps we ourselves as a city will be able to move on from that tragic event and onto a new beginning.

I nearly spit out my spaghetti when a bunch of hard rocks and boo's rise from the crowd and pummel poor Detective Blake.

"We don't want that psycho in our city!" one man screams.

"He's the reason my family is dead!" another woman screeches.

"Let him rot in prison forever!"

The young detective tries his hardest to calm everyone down but it's a lost cause. The clip is cut short and I'm back to watching Candace.

"As you can see, citizens are in an absolute outrage over the GCPD's decision to release their prisoner. Although police have assured us all that he's been released into the hands of a very capable citizen, we're left in the dark about what's to be done to reassure our safety from this man. The citizen responsible for Bane still remains unidentified at this time."

I sit my plate aside, grab my temples, and groan. Why didn't Blake tell me World War III was going on outside? If anyone figures out that I'm now the one responsible for taking care of Bane, my apartment will be up in flames in a heartbeat!

Candace's distraught voice brings my attention back to the screen. "If anyone," she says in a dramatic voice, "anyone at all knows where the police have hidden this man, please..." She shuts her eyes and clasps at her chest. "Citizens urge you to turn this man back over to the police, where he belongs. Please."

"Quite the one for dramatics."

"Ohhhmygosh!" I squeak at the sound of Bane's voice behind me. I turn around in my seat and see his hulking frame watching the TV with a glimmer of amusement in his dark eyes.

"Isn't she?" he finishes while moving his eyes to meet mine. My hand fumbles around on the remote until I'm able to switch to a different channel. A crime drama is on. A psychopathic murderer is just about to stab a young girl in her home. Even better.

"I-I didn't hear you there! Um." I push my bangs aside as I try to think of the appropriate way to handle this. "Sorry you had to see that."

Bane stares at the screen, the amused and calculating look still there. "Do not be sorry. Chaos is all around us. I enjoy being the cause of it."

I want to say something, something that you might say to make a convicted terrorist feel a little better about what he had done. Call it my "nice girl mentality". Unfortunately, I can't think of a thing. I myself remember the terror surging through the city those few, cold, tumultuous months after Bane released the prisoners of Blackgate. Everyone in the city was trapped with no hope of escape. People turned on one another, fought to the death over food, water, clothes. It was a nightmare. Some of the people, mainly the prisoners and corrupt politicians, enjoyed having Bane rule over them. They enjoyed watching traitors who tried to escape be put to death unjustly.

As for me, I was young and living alone. Needless to say, I had been scared out of my mind. Numerous people had broken into my apartment and stolen mostly everything I owned while I hid. I couldn't go out anywhere without fear of being robbed or worse.

People still feel the pain of that. I do, too. I know how hard it is to forgive something like that. That's why I'm terrified out of my mind having the mastermind behind it all living in my apartment. But there's also that part of me that believes everyone deserves another chance, especially if they really want it. Blake seems to believe that Bane does really want another shot. Do I? Or should I really just drop him off with the police like the people want?

I shift uncomfortably on the couch. Something about having a giant murderous man behind you really freaks a person out. "Did you need something?" I ask as sweetly as I can. "There's some more spaghetti on the stove. Or I can order take-out if you didn't really like it." There I go, Rambling Rooney to the rescue.

"That won't be necessary," Bane assures me. His eyes are still staring at the TV screen but his mind seems to be in a different place. "I thank you for your hospitality, Miss Rose. It's been quite unexpected."

I smile to myself. Sure, he's a criminal or whatever, but compliments are my weakspot. Maybe I'm just a complete pushover. It wouldn't be the first time someone called me that. I'm sure mostly anyone else would have already taken Bane back to the police department by now and left him or have done something even worse.

Go, me! I'm a good person so far. Or just a highly stupid one.

"Well, you're welcome. I might still be in shock by how quickly this little arrangement happened, though," I admitted. I still feel as though I'm walking in a nightmare, one that will go away in the morning.

"We will just have to wait for our true natures to bring themselves forth, then." Bane gives me an unreadable look that sends fear crawling over my skin.

I laugh nervously. "When you put it like that..." I glance over at the clock above the stove. Somehow, it's already 9:32PM. Not late for some people, pretty late for a girl with class in the morning and Bane in her apartment. "I guess I'm gonna take a shower and get to bed. You can stay up and watch TV if you want. The bathroom is the first door on the right when you need it." I grab my uneaten plate of spaghetti and place it in the fridge with the other leftovers. While I'm at class tomorrow, he can eat on that. I'll have to go grocery shopping soon, though. Unless I want Bane to squish me for trying to feed him a salsa turkey sandwich.

"Good night!" I call over my shoulder as I duck into the bathroom. I lock the door for good measure. Bane doesn't seem like a Peeping Tom or anything but I don't want a reenactment of Psycho in here.

I scan the walls for cameras (there are none) before undressing and climbing under the steady stream of hot water. The water feels good on my skin but does next to nothing for the thoughts swirling around my head.

So far, things have been easy. Bane's been a perfect, slightly unhinged gentleman, while I've managed to not go plum-crazy. But this is only the first day. I still have to take him out into Gotham, the city that hates him. I have to get used to having someone step into the life I've been used to, the one where I could virtually escape reality by sitting in my apartment. How am I going to get used to having a complete stranger in my home?

Just like that, reality comes crashing down on me. The police are asking a lot of me. I turn off the shower and step out. I wrap myself in a warm, fuzzy bathrobe and heave a long sigh. Today had went smooth, mostly, as I told Bane, because I'm still in shock at everything that's happened so far. Given the situation, there's been little left to do then carry on with my day. When our true natures come out, as Bane put it, will I be able to handle it?

I sound like a bad soap opera. Whatever happens next, I'll just go with it. That's the way to handle life.

I step out of the bathroom, surrounded by steam, and go down the hall to my bedroom as quickly as I can manage. I fall onto my bed like a bag of rocks.

Things will still be as easy in the morning.

~o~o~o

Thanks for reading! :) Do you think things will still be as easy for Rose in the morning?

Next time we have: a cute professor, an angry jock, sloppy clothes, and a big decision to make! Stay tuned!