Here is the second chapter to my story! Since this story was originally made for one of my best friends who is a very big fan of Bane, you'll notice a lot of Bane and Hanna. Also, I apologize if anything in this story doesn't fit some information in TDKR. I tried to get as much of the information right.

I was so excited to see all the favorites and follows! I hope everyone continues to enjoy!

I do not own anything involving TDKR, the only character I own is Hanna von Krieg. =)

Gotham, USA

"Dad? Are you home?"

Barbara was met with darkness and silence as she let herself into her family's two story city home. Her father must have been having another late night, probably caught up with more Harvey Dent day drama.

She flipped the switch by the kitchen and dropped her bag off on one of the chairs. Her first week of classes had gone by great. She'd gotten a good vibe from all of her professors, and the course material seemed fairly simple in comparison to the workload at Clark.

After classes, she'd gone for coffee at a local place she'd gone to a lot in high school, and then went down town to the Wayne Research Center for her first day of work. Already, Barbara was quite pleased with the place. Her boss was an older man who smiled a lot and complimented her on her vast knowledge and disposition, despite her young age. She'd grinned at that. Her co-workers were a motley crew of IT geeks and girls who wore pinstripe skirts, who snorted when they laughed and were addicted to the coffee in the break room. She knew she'd get along there just fine.

After stripping off her white dress shirt and kicking off her heels, she traded her dress pants for a pair of yoga pants, a tank top and a gray Clark U Cougars hoodie, and went down to the kitchen to make her dad some dinner. It was something her mother used to do. She'd always have a special container of dinner left for her dad, no matter what time he came home.

The silence was deafening, so she flipped on the television to the news while she pulled out a package of ground beef, noodles and a can of meat sauce to make her father's favorite: spaghetti with meat sauce. A woman's voice filled the room as Barbara browned the meat and stirred salt into a pot of water.

"Gotham is getting ready for Harvey Dent day, tomorrow. Earlier today, a meeting with city officials met to discuss the program for the City's annual parade. Gotham City News anchor, Richard Wright spoke to Police Commissioner, James Gordon, on what the people of Gotham should expect."

Barbara turned to stare at the woman on the screen curiously. Her father's face filled the screen. She laughed. He maintained his usual professional facade, but Barbara could see tell that look of annoyance anywhere. Between her and her little brother, she'd seen that look enough as a child.

A handsome dark haired man began rambling off questions to him, and her father responded curtly, although his voice got tight in some places. She shook her head and sprinkled pepper into the meat. Just as she began to pour the can of sauce into the mixture, a heavy knock sounded at the door.

She jumped in surprise. Her eyes grazed over the stove clock. Ten forty seven. Who could be here that late?

Barbara turned down the heat of the stove and walked toward the door, but not before grabbing the hand gun her father usually kept hidden underneath the hallway bench.

Glancing through the tiny peep hole in the door, she recognized the familiar short brown hair and heavy police jacket. She gasped and threw the door open.

"Officer Blake! My father-" Her heart thumped in her chest wildly. Having a cop show up at your door was never a good sign, especially for the spouse or family of a cop. Could her dad have been shot? Had that lunatic broke out of prison to seek vengeance? Her mind raced at a million miles a minute before the officer raised a hand to calm her.

"He's at Gotham General. He's been shot, but he's stable."

"Shot?!" Her voice broke. Suddenly, Barbara felt very dizzy and she had to lean against the door frame for support.

The cop took a step forward.

"He's alright, Miss Gordon. It was a wound to the leg. The doctor just wants to keep him for a few nights to keep an eye on him. He wanted me to come here personally to make sure you knew. He said you'd rather hear it in person, than over the phone."

Although her eyes filled with tears, she choked a laugh. Her father knew her so well. Barbara closed her eyes and tried to gather herself. She was a sensible, intelligent young woman. Her father was fine. He was a cop. It wasn't his first injury on the job, and it probably wouldn't be the last. Her father was a strong, resilient man. She was panicking over nothing.

Officer Blake stared at her, eyebrows gathered in worry.

"I'm sorry." she laughed, wiping her eyes.

The officer shook his head. "Don't be. Its a usual reaction to hearing your father got shot."

Barbara nodded and then looked around, as if the small entry way served as some kind of answer.

"Yeah. Um, can I go see him?" She asked.

Blake nodded and jutted his thumb over his shoulder. "I figured I could give you a ride."

Nodding again, she reached for her shoes under the bench, forgetting she had the gun in her hand. Instinctively, the officer stepped back, his hands raised.

"Oh. Oh, shit." Barbara hurriedly put the gun away in its safe spot. She blushed deeply and gave the cop an apologetic smile. "Dad keeps it there in case someone tries to bust in through the door when we answer it. People don't usually show up here this late."

Blake sighed in relief and gave her a warm smile. "Its alright." he laughed nervously. "Just a cop reaction."

"We're doing a lot of dramatic reacting tonight, aren't we?" Barbara joked. "Um, come on in. I was cooking, so just give me a minute to take everything off the stove."

Blake nodded and followed her into the tight entry way, wiping his feet off on the welcome mat. He suddenly felt very awkward, standing in his boss' kitchen, while his boss' daughter worked quickly at shutting off the stove and covering the half-cooked meat.

"I'll just have to finish it later." She muttered, more to herself than to Blake. But Blake nodded anyway, taking in the kitchen. It was a modest little place, but somehow it seemed like exactly the kind of place James Gordon would live in. It was clean, unlike Blake's own place, and plain, with a touch of femininity that showed that a woman had lived there.

"My mom insisted that the place have some color." Barbara said by ways of explanation. "And, if it seems impossibly clean for a man's place, I'll let you in on a little secret. The Commissioner is just as messy as your average Joe. I wind up doing most of the cleaning." She joked, dumping out the pot of salt water.

Blake grinned. "Well, now I don't feel as bad. My place is a pig stye, and I'm barely ever there."

Barbara wiped her hands on a dish towel and fixed Blake with a playful smile. "You're a rookie cop. Get used to it."

Blake rolled his eyes good naturedly. "Come on, let's get you to Gotham General."

Gotham General had been rebuilt shortly after the actions of the psychopath that called himself the Joker. It now stood grander than ever, with a large memorial in front dedicated "Harvey Dent: the hero who brought justice to Gotham."

John Blake rolled his eyes. The Mayor was really laying this Harvey Dent fiasco on thick. Every chance he could, he mentioned the man, probably because he knew it'd help him with his election. Everyone in Gotham seemed to soak it up. The people believed in Harvey Dent.

Personally, Blake felt unsure about the man. While everyone else had jumped all over the story, John couldn't help but find the whole thing rather suspicious. There were just too many gaping holes in the story, too many unanswered questions.

How could the Batman be a murderer?

Whether it was his inner child, or something a touch more resolute, he remained loyal to the caped crusader. He had felt a connection with Batman ever since he'd first seen him as a child, alone in a large, dark, unfair world. Batman wasn't a murderer, wasn't a criminal. He just knew it.

Blake had the same kind of respect for Commissioner Gordon. He'd always admired the man, even before he joined the force. Jim Gordon was close with the Batman. And, like the hero, he was steadfast, diligent. Jim Gordon didn't take shit from anyone. And Blake respected him for that.

Well, we know who his daughter takes after. Blake thought with a silent chuckle as he led Barbara to her father's hospital room. She raced to his side and clutched his hand.

John stood outside the room to give the two some privacy. After a few minutes of anxious awkwardness, he plopped down into one of the seats outside the door. He drummed his fingers against his knee. Hospitals always made him nervous. Especially this one.

A nurse sitting at the station across from him looked up from her paperwork and smiled at him. He smiled back.

"Daddy." Barbara grasped her father's hand in her own and cradled it close to her chest. Her father gave her a look that told her she was worrying for no reason.

"I'm alright, Barb. Its a minor wound; its a lot nicer than the time I got shot in the shoulder my first year on the Force."

Tears filled her eyes as she chuckled softly. That was her father for you, always making everything no big deal. It was one of the things she admired most about him. Even after her mother left, he'd bounced back. He hadn't drank himself away like she'd heard some men to do after a divorce, nor did he ever stop giving his job his all. He loved his family with every fiber of his being, but he was meant to be a cop, and nothing would stop him from protecting his people.

"Well, thank God I came home. What the hell happened?"

Her father sighed and leaned back in his bed. "There was a shooting downtown at a bar. Turns out it was a lot more than just a regular bar fight. Someone used the Mayor's phone. By the time we got down there, they'd lit up the place. I thought the culprit escaped into the sewers, so I went down. There was...there were these men down there, dozens of them. They killed off the SWAT boys that accompanied me, but I managed to escape through the water way. They shot at me, got me in the leg."

Barbara closed her eyes, trying to force the images of her father fleeing from some crazed criminal from her mind. She had enough nightmares about the last time her family had been attacked. She would have recommended that it was time her father retired if she didn't already know it would be futile. Her father loved his job.

He squeezed her hand back reassuringly. "Babs, don't cry. I'm alright, I assure you."

"Yeah, but," her voice broke as she fought the tears in her eyes. "I can't imagine losing you."

"You're not going to. Not yet. Not until I get to walk you down the aisle and see my grandchildren grow up to be mischievous brats. And even then you'll have to fight me off."

Barbara laughed. Her father was her entire world.

"I am going to hold you to that, daddy." She said.

"That's my girl. Now, I need to speak to the officer who brought you here."

Barbara nodded and left his side long enough to stick her head out the door and ask Officer Blake to follow her.

The young policeman nodded respectfully at him and stood at the end of his bed.

"Officer Blake, I appreciate you bringing my daughter here, and for saving my life."

Blake shook his head. "No, sir, it was my honor."

Officer Gordon smiled, amused. "Please, son, no need for formalities. You show promise and heart, something a lot of cops these days are lacking. I want you to come work for me, as a Detective."

Blake blinked at him in surprise. His mouth dropped open. Barbara smiled.

"I-I don't know what to say, sir."

Gordon gave his daughter a look. He looked back at Blake. "Honestly, I'm being rather selfish doing this. I want someone to take care of my daughter, and there are only a few people that I trust."

Blake furrowed his brow. Barbara looked confused at her father.

"Daddy, I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself-" she began to argue, but her father raised a disciplined hand, and she quickly shut her mouth.

Jim moved to sit up, struggling slightly with weak arms. Both Barbara and John moved to help him, but the Commissioner swatted them away.

"Nothing seems right." He began slowly, looking down at his lap. "Those men down there...there is something all off about it. You should have seen their leader. And the children down there..."

Barbara and John exchanged alarmed expressions.

"Now, (name) doesn't believe a word of it. Everyone thinks I've finally lost it. But they weren't down there. They didn't see what they're building – not sure what it is, but its massive. They asked me if I saw a giant alligator down there." Jim rolled his eyes.

"Sir, who do you think they are?" John finally spoke, clutching his cap tightly in his hand. Jim shrugged, looking very tired.

"I don't know, rookie. No idea."

Berlin, Germany.

"Das Projekt ist auf einem guten Weg. Alles läuft nach Plan."

Hanna von Krieg took a long drag from her cigarette as she waited for the man sitting across from her to answer.

"Sehr gut. You have done well, liebling."

The blond smirked and leaned back in her chair. "So, what is the plan?"

The man folded his hands on the table. He was a tall, domineering man, with broad shoulders and a cold, calculated look, menacing to just about everybody he met, but Hanna was completely unfazed. Dirk Austerlitz may have been one of the most powerful and feared leaders among the vigilantes, but she had learned to fear no one.

"There is a man from South Africa who has gone to America. He resides underground, at the base location: Gotham City, Illinois. You are to go meet with him. He is expecting you." He passed her a photograph.

Helena raised a brow gleefully. "A new pet? Oh, meine Lieb, you shouldn't have."

Austerlitz fixed her with a serious look. "He is not one to be trifled with. This is a very powerful man."

That only seemed to excite Hanna more, and she kicked her legs up onto the desk between them. She clapped her hands happily.

"Sher gut. I like my pets with a little fight in them. Its more fun that way."

The warlord shook his head tiredly. It was pointless to try and warn Hanna. She was stubborn as an ass, but he had to admit that she was as brave as a lion, and able to back that incessant bravery up with her quick wit and even quicker hand. But this man...even someone as powerful as himself, Dirk was unsure. He'd heard stories of the masked killer.

She would find out soon enough.

Das Projekt ist auf einem guten Weg. Alles läuft nach Plan - the project is on track. Everything is going according to plan.

My German is shaky. It's between my roommate, who speaks a fair bit of German, text books and translators. If it is wrong, please let me know!

I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Hit the pretty button and write a review!