Disclaimer: I do not own any Batman characters. They are the property of DC Comics. Please don't sue me. I only really own the character I made up, Patricia.

The months moved slowly. Snow had started falling and the river had begun to freeze. A "court" of people were executing the upper class of Gotham by pushing them out onto the ice and letting them fall through. A lot of people remained in their homes, praying no one would come for them. A few of the city had followed Bane's rhetoric, following baser, jealousy filled instincts.
- - - - - - - - -

"Mum." Patricia called. She was 7 years old and her mom was making her a sandwich.

"Yes sweetie?" Her mom answered.

"Why can't the boy in the upstairs room play?" The little girl asked innocently.

"He's sick, sweetie."

"But he's been inside the entire year he's been here mum."

"I know, but we mustn't bother him, darling." She handed the girl the sandwich, and although the girl stayed quiet, her mind was still working. She had heard the boy cry before and her mom or dad would take a syringe full of something into the room and he was quiet for days. The only time she ever saw him was when he would leave his room to take a bath or use the lav. He walked funny and always had his face covered. She decided it was time to figure out who this boy was. She walked quietly upstairs when her mom was watching TV. Her dad was out for the day. The door to his room was at the end of the hallway and Patricia tiptoed toward it. She turned the door knob as silently as she could. The little boy was laying in the bed facing away from her. He had light brown hair and she gasped at the sight of a long scar down his back. Startled, he turned toward her but his face contorted in pain and he started to cry.

"Please don't cry." She said quickly, running over. "Please? My mum will come up here and she'll make me leave, but I want to talk to you."

"I-it h-hurts to t-talk." he said through tears. "Please g-get your mum." he begged and Patricia ran back downstairs.

"Mum! The boy is crying again." She called. Her mom was immediately on her feet. Going into the kitchen she grabbed a syringe and headed upstairs. This time, Patricia followed her. The mom quickly injected the boys arm and he stopped crying.

"What's wrong with him mum?" Patricia asked, scared. She was holding onto the door frame.

"Patricia, go downstairs." Her mother ordered.

"Please don't make her leave." The little boy said, his voice sleepy. Her mother held out her hand and Patricia walked over.

"Sweetie, this is Dominic." her mother said softly.

"Dominic, this is my daughter Patricia." He held out his hand and she shook it. Every day after that Patricia found herself spending more and more time in the upstairs bedroom.

"You're always so tired." Patricia complained one day. It has been several years and the two had become close friends.

"It's the medicine." Dominic explained. They can't give it to me in little doses, they have to give me a full dose at a time and it makes me tired."

"What if you could get it a little at a time?" Patricia said, having an idea.

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"I'll be back." She left the house and quickly went to her fathers work. She wondered what would happen if they put the medicine he needs in an inhaler, that way he could take a small amount when he needed it rather than a huge dose and being tired all the time.

"Sweetie, he needs to have some in his system all the time." Her dad explained.

"Ok, but what if he wears something, a mask with the inhaler in it that can be refilled and it continuously gives him a little bit of medicine?" Her father smiled at her.

"That just might work sweetie." The two of them worked through the night to come up with a primitive mask, so he would never be in pain.
- - - - - - - - -

"Robertson." Wilson called. She had been sitting at her desk. "We have a meeting to go to." They were led back into the situation room.

"We just received a call from John Blake. He could only be on the phone for moments, but he says he needs strong agents in there. Now." Parsons said urgently.

"After five months, why now?" Wilson asked.

"I'm not sure, but it sounded urgent. We're sending a special forces lieutenant in. His name is Jones. Robertson, we want you in there too."

"Yes sir." Patricia replied.

"This might be it. The trucks will head across the bridge tomorrow at 1100." Robertson's mind raced. If tomorrow was it, then she would be seeing Bane very soon.

Miranda Tate walked through a desolate apartment. Once belonging to a rich family, it was now empty and they were now dead. The phone in the next room rang and she smiled, walking over to answer it.

"Hello." She said confidently. His voice came muffled.

"Where are they hiding."

"My friend. We are in the top floor of the library. There is an elevator. A bunch of people are hiding there."

"Why tomorrow?" Bane asked curiously.

"A detective named John Blake is bringing a group of special forces to us. The beginning of their team to take you down. They would be a perfect group for you to make an example of."

"I think they would. You will be brought to the courthouse if you are caught but I will be there."

"I trust you will, my darling. The plan is working perfectly. Wayne is probably begging for death as we speak." Bane was silent. "Till tomorrow my love." She hung up the phone and Bane stared out the window into the night. She wasn't suppose to call him love. He hated being called love. Only one person ever used that...

"It's you!" The young girl he had saved from prison ran up to him and hugged him tightly. He pushed aside the pain and let her. She brought him to a chair to sit. "Why are you wearing that mask?" She asked.

"It helps control the pain I feel." He explained. The girl was almost 4 years older. Around the age of 15, she was starting to look like her father. "Thank you for sending your father to find me." He stood and shook Raz Au Gul's hand. "Thank you."

"We can train you." Talia said smiling. "We can teach you to fight."

"There is someone I need to find." Dominic answered. "I will come back, but I must find her."

"Her?" Talia asked. A flick of something malicious flashed in her eyes. "Who's her?"

"A friend. Her name is Patricia." He explained, a smile showing in his eyes and behind him Talia smirked.

"Patricia Robertson?" she asked. Dominic immediately rounded on her. "How do you know that name?" He asked quickly.

"I met her." She said, putting on her best sad act. "She came looking for you. She found the prison and was petitioning to have you freed about two months ago."

"What happened? Where is she?" his eyes looked frantic.

"These men, they claimed to be the ones who took you, attacked her in the market place. She was killed." Dominic fell to his knees. He tried so hard to stay alive. He just wanted to see her again. Tears were falling freely from his eyes.

"Where is she buried?" He asked.

"Her body was thrown in a river." Talia replied, still smirking. "I'm sorry."

"Now is not a time for tears." Raz said strongly. "Now is a time for learning and discipline. You will train. You will fight."

"We have to find a different name for you." Talia said quickly. "You're still a wanted man. Dominic is dead."

"Bane." Raz said confidently. "We will call you Bane."

Now he was sitting in a dark room, Raz's final plan close to coming to fruition. Patricia's face flashed into his mind, but he quickly pushed it away. He didn't want to now what she would think about what he had done, but she was gone. Whoever Dominic was had died with her. Talia, or Miranda had been there for him.
- - - - - - - - -

Patricia waited anxiously for the truck to cross the bridge. Jones was in the truck behind her and her mind had been going a million miles a minute. She kept replaying the last time she saw Bane over and over in her head.

The hotel room in Barcelona was dark. Dominic was laying on his back again, his belt that gave him support was on the floor and his mask was off. They had thought they were safe so she had been able to give him a full dose of medicine and his mask lay forgotten as he drifted to sleep. For an hour she just laid next to him, looking at his features. Memorizing everything. She had been losing sleep trying to figure out how to get him out of this debt. She put her arm across his chest and if by instinct his hands grabbed her arm. She curled into him, kissing his neck.

"Goodnight my love." She said quietly. Her eyes seemed to have just closed when she was jolted awake. The hotel room door was broken open and three man stood with guns pointed at them. Dominic immediately stood up to attack the guy closest while Patricia had reached for a knife under her pillow and threw it towards the third man in the room. It hit and the man slumped against the wall. However, as soon as Dominic stood up the pain was too much and he collapsed. Not wearing his belt or mask he was at a loss.

"Dominic!" Patricia screamed. The second guy caught her as she was moving toward Dominic, now laying on the floor. He caught her across the face with a punch then a baseball bat to her ribs. She fell. Her eyes caught Dominic's. He looked terrified. Not for himself, for her. The two men started to pick him up. He fought, but it was a losing battle.

"Dominic..." Her voice was weak. She could tell her ribs were broken. The third man had pulled her knife out of his shoulder and was now standing over her. "I'll find you Dominic, I promise."

"I love you." His voice was strained but she heard him clearly. The first two men pulled Dominic out of the room and the third man got to his knees and turned her over. Climbing on top of her she could smell booze and cheap cigarettes.

"You'll never see him again." The man said, his accent was hard to place, but she knew it was middle eastern. "I'll make sure of that." The man was too distracted to notice she had been reaching under the hotel bed. Grabbing a gun she quickly pointed it at him and fired. She could feel blood spatter on her, but it didn't matter. She stood up as quickly as possible, ignoring the shooting pains from her broken ribs. She tore out of the hotel room and toward the parking lot. The van containing her life was already out of the parking lot. It was too far to make out a license plate.

"DAMN IT!" She screamed. Tears were falling down her face as she watched the van drive away. Years passed as she searched. She couldn't find any record of him or where he was being held. Finally a break. Rumors of a girl born in hell. Stories of a protector with a scar along his back. She tracked the stories to an ancient part of the world. Standing in a market place she could see a pit in the distance. She stopped at a stand.

"English?" She asked and the man nodded. "What can you tell me about that prison?" She pointed.

"That is hell. Men are thrown in there to suffer and die." He kept his eyes averted from hers.

"I need to get a man out of there."

"How do you expect to do that?" A young girl asked her. Taken by surprise she turned. The girl couldn't have been more than 14 or 15.

"Who are you?" Patricia asked.

"I think the better question would be, who are you trying to rescue?" The girl asked. Her dark brown hair shined in the sunlight.

"His name is Dominic." Patricia noticed the girls eyes narrow.

"Who are you?" The young girl asked.

"My name is Patricia Robertson. I have money, I just need to get him out."

"I'm afraid I can't let you do that." The girl said with a smirk.

"What are you going to do?" Patricia asked. The girl snapped her fingers and 4 men surrounded them.

"I will make you disappear." She said with a smile. Patricia must have been hit on the head. The next thing she knew she woke up in water. She noticed the red glow around her. At first she panicked, wondering where she was hurt. However, she soon realized she wasn't bleeding. She had been thrown into the red sea. Some called it the cursed sea. When the algae died they glowed red, giving the body of water its name. She just started swimming. She seemed to swim for hours and when she had given up she felt someone pull her from the water. She could only make out dark hair.

"You're going to be alright." He said softly. The days and nights seemed to melt together as she went in and out of consciousness. She woke up in a German hospital, and her dad was at her bedside.

"What happened?" She asked. Her father was immediately hugging her.

"You were found floating in the Red Sea." He pulled away but held onto her hand. "You had been beaten badly and were suffering from exposure but someone found you and brought you here."

"Who?"

"We don't know. You've been gone for so long Patricia." His voice was full of concern as she tried desperately to remember the man's face who pulled her from the water. Kind eyes, worn but strong. A headache threatened and she softly rubbed her forehead. "The doctors weren't sure you would make it, but here you are."

"I have to go back." Patricia said quickly sitting up. The pain stopped her from standing.

"Are you crazy?" Her dad placed his hands on her shoulder, keeping her from moving.

"I found where they're keeping Dominic, dad. I have to get him. I promised him that I would save him and he's been in that prison for years." She saw her dad reluctantly nod his head.

It was days before she was able to leave the hospital, but she was on the first plane out. Her body was black and blue and walking hurt, but she didn't care. She needed to get to him. The small town hadn't changed. The same man was at his little stand and his eyes widened when he saw her.

"You should not be here." He said in a hurried whisper.

"I am here to get my friend."

"The man with the scar on his back?" Her eyes widened.

"Yes, where is he?"

"Gone."

"Gone?" her voice caught in her throat and she could feel her heartbeat.

"The girl and her father. They took him. They left the country." It was as if someone had hit her. She was so close and someone took him away. She left for home with her father. No one knew anything about the young girl, if they did they weren't talking. She wanted to regroup. Start from scratch. It was only a few months later that she started hearing the reports. A masked mercenary. Cold blooded, evil, killed at random. She didn't think it could be him until she saw the picture. That was when Patricia started her police career. How better to keep tabs on, and get close to, Bane then be in charge of trying to catch him.