So here is my second attempt to write a Batman/Dark Knight fanfic. It's about the relationship between Bruce and Rachel, only with a little twist. :) And don't worry - I haven't abandoned my other fic, I'm just out of ideas. Hehe.

Some of this story takes part between BB and TDK and some post TDK. Hope that's okay.

Here is some info so that you'll know what's going on, because I have some kind of made my own version XD

Short time after Rachel told Bruce they could not be together because he was Batman (in Batman Begins), she met Harvey Dent, the new D.A. of Gotham. They started dating and later she became his 'girlfriend', much to Bruce's disliking. After some months dating Dent, Rachel left with him to travel the world for some years. Bruce thought he had lost her to this man, until one strange day when she returned, not knowing he was going to lose her again.


Chapter 1


...Post TDK...

Death was something everyone in the end has to go through, a pain and sorrow that has to be felt at some time a life. But he had never thought he would feel it for her. She was gone and he was supposed to have saved her. He had been determined to keep her safe. But he had proven himself useless.

It was like he was sitting on a cloud, so soft and precious that he could not understand why he was allowed to be close to something so rare. It was then he realized that he was not touching a cloud, or even sitting upon one. He was touching bare skin, her skin. Skin he had longed, that had recently become his.

She began tracing her long fingers over his face, which made him shiver. She looked up at him, giggling. Her voice was carried to him, just like music of different kinds. He could not quite understand what she was saying, but the sound of her voice would always make him happy. Her eyes connected with his, and it was like looking into the great magnificence of the sky, every star shining for her.

His eyes opened wide, in the hope that he would wake to those glorious eyes. But he saw only a blank white ceiling and a few rays of light coming through the somewhat dirty windows. He closed his eyes tight again to salvage the last bit of her that he had left. Now they would only be memories.

This morning, as he rolled out from his bed, he tried to not notice the cold, empty floor that was next to his warm bed. But why was he thinking of that? She had never slept in this house for nearly three years. Three agonizing years, and now she would never sleep, nor awaken, again.

He pulled on the same clothes he had worn yesterday, not even caring to see if they were clean. There was no reason to care about anything anymore now that she was gone. And this time there was no hope that she would come back.

He passed the mirror without a care. If he had dared to stop and look, he would have only thought of the times when he had taken care of himself only to please her. There was no longer a reason to do that; her eyes would never get to see his face again. His black fringe fell down in his face, greasy and untidy. His health didn't matter to him anymore.

He grabbed a bottle of whiskey that waited for him on the other side of his door, leading into the long, empty hallway of his great manor. With one flick of his thumb he popped the top on the bottle and downed a long drink. It burned as it strained down in neck, but he needed it to forget. Four gulps later the bottle was empty and he flinched as his throat began to catch fire.

But as he stepped outside in the sunny morning, he was just looking for something more that could be a distraction.

He had barely made it out the door when his knees began to buckle, his feelings overwhelming him to his break. He crouched down at the entrance to his manor, his hands curled into fists. Pressing his knuckles to his head, he strangled back the sobs that were threatening to wrack thorough his body. But there was no use.

He had no count of how many tears he had felt for her. She had always had the ability to make him lose himself in his emotions. Right now was only one of many breakdowns she had caused.

He pulled his hands away from his face and wrapped them around himself, like if he was trying to shield himself from the prying eyes of the world. Teardrop after teardrop fell from his eyes and hit the disgusting ground he was crouched over. How had it come to this? He had sworn to himself, had begged and begged to ensure her safety. And now everything had gone to hell.

He tried his best to not remind himself of how he would stand on this place, waiting for her to come around the corner. How many dawns and evenings had he waited for her? Many, he could be sure of that. The knowledge of this place, because this place, was enough to bring back the flood of memories that he had tried to hide away from his head. But there was no use; she had been determined to make her own presence known, just as she had in life.


Several Months Earlier

The rich and famous billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne had just come out of the shower. Wrapping a towel around the lower half of his body he ran his fingers through his now clean and shaggy black hair. He reached out and rubbed off the fog from the mirror, curious to see his own reflection. He sighed. His skin was not so pale, but it still was a bit livid. Maybe not so strange since he had not been out from his manor for months, at least not as Bruce Wayne. He studied his muscles; they had grown a lot after he had become the Batman.

He walked casually out from the bathroom and into his bedroom, stifling a yawn. It was really quite in the early morning, but Mr. Fox had called him about a meeting he just had to attend and he had to be there at 10 AM sharp. Looking up he realized that he had not seen Alfred this morning and he strolled down to the kitchen. But there was no Alfred. He gazed around himself when he suddenly saw a small piece of paper placed on the kitchen table. Picking it up, he read the elegant script.

Dear Master Wayne.

I have gone to England for a short break. My brother Wilfred called me late last night
and told me that my niece Daphne was very ill.

I'm sorry for that I didn't tell you in a more proper way.
You were asleep and I considered it at your best to gain some sleep.

If you'll need me back before I return you can always make a call. You know where to find me.

Please take care of yourself.

Your faithful butler,
Alfred.

Alfred had finally taken a day off. It was not that he did not deserve it because he truly did. And Bruce was okay with it. The feeling of being alone in this great manor with only his thoughts pleased him. Snickering, he went back to his bedroom. He was just about to search through his dresser for a nice suit when a knock on the door made his head pull up. It was probably another journalist, lurking around to see if they could get a celebrity bite of the rich playboy. They showed up almost every day, curious about why he had locked himself inside his manor for a so long time. He could not stand them.

He went down, flung open the door and leaned against the doorframe impatiently, remembering that he still had to find some food.

She tilted her head and gazed down at the towel, then on his bare chest before she put an elegant hand over her mouth to muffle the giggles.

He jumped about a meter in the air before he quickly closed the door and ran up to his bedroom. He flung the towel away and caught a suit which was folded on a chair. He had the trousers halfway zipped when he realized that this suit was one of the expensive Armani suits he had. Whatever, he thought rapidly.

He pulled one white button-up dress shirts up and quickly put it on, letting the jacket remain. What was she doing here? He had not seen her for almost two years, and Rachel Dawes had always been one to plan ahead. Or warn head, for this situation.

He yanked up the door, terrified that she had gone and left. But she was still there, grinning at him. She studied his clothes and her smile grew even bigger.

"Hi Bruce. Say you're looking elegant this morning." Her voice had matured since the last time he had heard her speak, which was when she whispered a soft goodbye the day when she left to travel with Dent.

"Yes, well… You caught me at a very inconvenient time. I'm on the way to work." He was pleased to see her reaction at his own voice as he spoke. It had deepened since the last time he had spoken to her. It was most probably because of his time speaking as the Batman. Although de did not really speak as him; it was more like growling. "Can I ask why you are here this morning?"

She folded her hands behind her back, taking a deep breath before she ducked past him into the hallway. She sat down on the edge of a couch standing in the hallway and smoothed out a wrinkle on her blouse. "I really hoped that I could tell you something."

He closed the door behind her, ever so slightly irritated over that she had walked in just like that. But he remained calm and collected as he spoke. "Alright, but please make it quick."

"I wanted to… say sorry … for the way I behaved at our last meeting. I should have listened to what you had to say, but I shut you out. I've regretted it very much, and my conscience hasn't fully hushed down since. So here I am, saying sorry." She shrugged her shoulders and gave him a small smile.

Of course, this was the least he had expected that she would say. It could have been one of his greatest hopes for this thing to happen, but he had never imagined it actually would. His eyes were bigger than usual and he forced his mouth closed.

He cleared his throat. "I admit that I didn't quite expect this. I, uhm, assume that I forgive you. I didn't really blame you for being angry with me though. I realize now that it is completely my fault."

"Don't worry about it. I'm just glad you forgive me," she said in a relieved voice as she rose up. "And to ensure you understand the full extent of my honest apology, I thought we could eat breakfast together.

Bruce placed a hand on his stomach. There was surely food in the kitchen, but he had to admit to himself that he was not such a great cook. Considering that since Alfred was away and he didn't want to put Rachel to cook, it would be nice to eat a decent breakfast, especially since he was in the company of Rachel.

He nodded his head. "Okay, but I must be at work at Wayne Enterprises at 10'o'clock."

She took his hand, so warm and small compared to his, and within a few seconds they was standing in front of a café with had a very good reputation, not so far away from Wayne Enterprises. After leading him to a small table in the shadow, she went to go to grab some food inside.

Bruce looked around himself, suddenly realizing that several journalists and reporters he knew were eating their breakfast at the same café. He scooted himself up against the wall, trying to hide away. He didn't want some journalists to ruin this breakfast with Rachel.

Just then she came back with their meal. "Scrambled eggs and bacon," she smiled warmly as she placed it in front of him.

They ate their food in silence until he had finished every bit on his plate. "How have you been?" He spoke in a towed voice as he put his hands behind his head and leaned back.

"I've been better," she mumbled. She gazed up at him and he was surprised to see her eyes shine in tears.

"What's wrong?" he asked anxious. His hand stretched out and unconsciously grabbed hers that was resting on the table.

She gave it a reassuring squeeze. "It was Harvey. We recently ended our relationship."

"Oh," Bruce snarled and pulled his hand away from hers. "So you thought you needed a pity meal with an old friend, huh? You know I don't like Harvey that much."

He was surprised when she seized his hand and put it up to her face. Her skin was so soft under his palm. He was afraid she would not like the feeling of it, but her desperate grip told otherwise.

"No, don't you see? I think I was the one who made a mistake. I was blind that time when I left you and went off with Harvey. But I see things now that I should have done a long time ago. I'm pretty sure you were the person I was supposed to be with and I don't care about Batman." A tear ran down her pure cheek, and he used his thumb to wipe it away.

"Well," he said and tried his best to not sound cheesy. "I'm glad you can see it now."

She gave him a tear wet smile before she became overcome with laughter. "I cannot believe I just poured my heart to you like that, but it felt good. She softly poked the tip of his nose.

Her eyes and soft touch still had the same impact on him. He knew what this feeling was and it washed over him like rain, soaking him to the bone. He would do anything for this girl, even putting away his duty as Batman. This girl deserved to be treated better than any other. To him, she was a pure and holy dove. He wouldn't let anything bring her harm.


She took his arm and pulled him down to the bed beside her. It had been four months since she had come into his life, just like a shooting star that had filled his night sky. He had not realized how lost he had been without her. She placed a light kiss on his forehead and smiled once more her confident and warm smile. He would never let go off her. Putting his arm around her he pulled her up against his chest. This was how it was supposed to be.

"There will always be the two of us, Rachel. I will always look after you," he whispered softly.

She smiled up at him; her eyes sparkled and brightened up her face. That night she fell asleep in his arms, but he was awake all the night. He had heard the Batsignal go off many times, but he didn't care. He had to stay here with her. He would never take his eyes away. She was perfect and beautiful as a star. But the best of all was that she only belonged to him. She was his.

Only his.


Please review. :)