A/N: I am not a native English speaker so sorry if there're any grammar/vocabulary mistakes.

**Two months since the last update... I really must apologise. I have received several PMs asking about the story and I want to write here that I haven't forgotten about it! College is taking most of my time and I moved to my very own apartment so of course I don't have all the free time that I had before.

**Thank you so so much to all the people that sent me PMs asking about Regeneration. It motivated me to keep writing and I finally managed to get some time for it :)

**It also took me so long because I found this chapter extremely hard to write. I didn't want to upload whatever that came out of my keyboard so I took a few days extra to re-read and modify. I really hope you guys enjoy it =)

11. I know. Tomorrow.

Bane was standing under the doorframe, looking at Jane with those eyes that made her shiver. The seconds that came after felt like hours for her, she considered a large number of reasons why he would have come back to her and none of them were particularly positive. She heard him sigh but did not react to it, actually no part of her body would react to anything in that exact moment. Bane pushed her away from the door carefully and then came in as if he had been there before, as if he were home, although this home looked ridiculously small compared to his size. With a quick movement, he turned around and locked the door. Jane panicked but did not move, she just stared at him with her eyes wide open and her mouth half shut. Bane walked to her and smiled.

'We don't want anyone dangerous breaking in, do we? God knows how many criminals are roaming free in Gotham these days.' His eyes twinkled. Jane turned her head towards the telephone, it was only a few meters away from her, maybe she could reach it if she was quick and sudden. 'Oh, don't even try, Jane. There's no line.'

But she didn't care about what he said and desperately ran to the end table next to the sofa. When she picked up the phone, a tiny hint of hope shone in her eyes just to quickly disappear after realising that there wasn't line, indeed. All of a sudden, Jane thought of her neighbours. If she screamed they would hear her but then they would also be in danger and Bane was likely to attack her. No, she had to calm down and think. Think, Jane. She looked at his body and was relieved to see that he was not carrying any weapons, at least visible ones. But then again, he didn't need any weapons to kill her, or anyone else. He began to move, stamping his boots on the wooden floor, making her tremble with every step he gave. His bright eyes moved around the place, looking at the pictures hanging on the walls, glancing at the kitchen through the flat arch and controlling Jane every now and then.

'Do you mind if I have a little tour?' he said looking at the corridor that led to the rooms. When no reply got to his ears he turned to Jane and talked again, 'do not fear me, Jane. It will be over soon,' his eyebrows stretched, he looked sad. Jane gulped and shook her head.

'I don't mind,' her voice came out almost inaudible, more as a question than as a statement.

She turned on the light in the corridor and followed him as his feet got off the ground again. His huge body blocked her sight so that she could not see a thing past him, he was leading the way and she merely followed, scared. Every time he took one more step Jane felt as if the whole house were trembling, the vibrations reaching her body, making her quiver with terror. The wooden floor cracked under his feet once more as he stopped to glance inside the bathroom. Jane looked at the exact point where the timber had creaked. Her brain tricked her for a second and she thought she could hear William's quick steps, running up and down that corridor, the same corridor where his murderer was standing now. Her heart ached. Bane had taken everything from her and now he was also taking her house, invading it with his presence, destroying that false sense of stability that Jane had built inside that now empty space. An empty space, that is what it had become. William was not going to stick his head out of his room wondering who was walking towards the door, his father was not going to try to stop the intruder from reaching their son. It was just her and Bane. She dried her tears with the palm of her hands and then crossed her arms covering her chest, trying to calm the pain that was growing inside of it. Bane reached the point where Jane's imagination had placed William's face and then he opened the door. It was dark at the beginning, but then the light went on and Bane's face shone under its brightness. He stepped in slowly, looking around as if he were in a museum, paying attention to every detail, sniffing the air. He stood in the middle of the room during a few seconds without touching anything, just observing. He approached one of the shelves and stretched his fingers to touch some wooden toys that were standing in a straight line.

'No,' Jane's weak voice interrupted him. He quickly turned his head around. He hadn't expected any sound coming from her, 'please, don't… touch them.' Her eyes watered and her arms grew tighter around her chest. Bane stepped back carefully, trying not to startle her.

'I apologise,' he said. Jane nodded drying her tears again and took a deep breath that sounded more like a sigh. Bane remained still, only moving his neck to keep analysing the room. The bed was still unmade, there were tissues on the night table and a little red lamp with blue spots illuminated that side of the room in quite an enchanting way. 'Do you sleep here?' he asked turning his eyes back to her.

'Just sometimes,' Jane replied, 'I'm- I'm scared of forgetting him,' she caressed one of the drawings hanging on the walls. Bane met her under the doorframe and stood close to her.

'You won't,' Jane was too scared to meet his eyes but forced herself to be brave and look at him. She could feel he was inspecting her emotional state with his sight, travelling inside her brain. She felt weak, exposed. 'I don't think a mother could ever forget her child.'

He stared at her silently during a few seconds, expecting some kind of response, but then he realised that her mind had left the conversation and was being invaded by thoughts of her son again. Usually, it was difficult to read her facial expressions, she seemed to have created a thick barrier against the outside world and it worked quite well, that is why he needed to stare at her, to break it. But when she thought about William, that was another story, so easy to spot. Her grey eyes turned into clouds, blinding her sight, taking her mind to some other world where none of that tragedy had happened, where she cradled William and laughed with his father. Bane felt that weird sting of what he had identified as guilt and felt forced to look away. But he did not. He was too proud to do so. Jane blinked and lowered her sight, his eyes were released and he left the room. Jane remained still for a while, coming back to reality, and then she followed Bane.

The door to her room was open, he went in. Both sides of the bed were unmade and there was a slight scent of soap coming from the bathroom. Jane observed how he passed his fingers through the furniture and it almost hurt her. She did not want him touching anything inside that house, her precious privacy was being broken with each centimeter that he touched and her brain could not help but think that he would destroy the house in the same way that he had destroyed its inhabitants. Bane stopped in front of a frame with a photograph of Jane holding a little boy in her arms in it. He had dark hair and bright eyes and was smiling at the camera while Jane looked at his face, stroking his hair. Bane picked up the frame and looked at it closely, as if it were some kind of relic from the past. Jane took one step back, he did not react. She took another one, he put his finger on the glass of the frame. The corridor seemed longer than ever as she tiptoed silently towards the living room. The telephone might not have line, but her cellphone did. She only needed three numbers and three words. 911, Bane is here. She ran to her jacket and took the cellphone. Her hands were shaky as she began to move away from the corridor and started to dial the numbers. Three numbers and three words. She did not even have time to pronounce the first one; Bane's hand appeared in the way of her sight and her phone covering all of it, including her own hand. She pulled back, he did not let go. Bane pushed her against the wall and opened her hand with his fingers to take the cellphone. He dropped it on the floor and stepped on it. His fingers were tense around her neck, his leg pressing hers against the bricks. He used his thumb to push her chin up and made her look at him.

'I could easily break your little neck right now,' Jane felt naked under his glare so she tried to look away, but every time her eyes moved from his, he would put more pressure on her neck and forced her to look at him, 'I can smell your fear, Jane.'

'I am not scared,' she said in a burst of both dignity and pride.

Bane pulled himself closer to her, she felt his left hand holding her waist, part of his palm directly in contact with her skin. She shivered, tried to punch him, kick him and escape, but all that came out was a gasp of air when Bane closed his fist and blocked the scarce circulation of air that was flowing through her throat.

'Are you not?' his chest leaned against hers, 'is that so?' his leg made its way between her thighs. His face advanced towards hers slowly, the breathing becoming noisier and noisier as the mask approached her face. Jane bent her neck to a side, he corrected her back. His face was so close to hers she could not even reason what was happening. The warm air coming out of the mask caressed her lips as he breathed, giving him a tiny hint of humanity that Jane thought he did not have. Warmth, what her life had lost; he had it, he had stolen it from her. He should be cold, heartless and inhumane, but he was not. His skin was warm against hers, his heart beats protruded on his neck, his blue eyes shone as they looked into hers, and all that came as a realisation to Jane: he was human, so he could be killed. Jane's knee impacted against his crotch, he groaned and swayed slightly on his feet as if he were about to fall, and Jane took that moment as a chance to sneak out between his arms. However, she was able to give only a few steps before his hands grabbed her arms again. They both stumbled upon the opposite wall and none of them made an effort to stop the knock.

'Hurt me!' she cried, 'I can only feel pain now, just hurt me so I know I'm still alive!'

'I didn't come here to hurt you, Jane,' he said regaining his breath and holding her shoulders.

'Then, why are you here? You bastard son of a bitch!' she attempted to punch his chest, but Bane's grip was strong.

'I came to kill you,' he lowered his voice and tried to catch her sight, 'so you would not suffer anymore, so you would finally rest,' his thumb stroked her cheek.

'Why don't you do it?' Jane moved her head away from his touch.

'Because I have realised that no one will remember William like you do if I end your life,' he made a pause, not sure about what he was going to say next, 'and Gotham needs to remember what they lost, otherwise all my tries to purge this town would have been in vain.'

Jane looked at him infuriated and breathing heavily.

'So all this is just about you again? You don't give a shit about my son! You don't give a shit about anyone but yourself!' her eyes watered, the salty tears falling smoothly on his hand.

'I do.'

'You don't!' she looked away restless, not knowing where to place her sight upon. Every single thing in that house reminded her of all she had lost, all that had gone away. 'I miss him…' she cried, 'I miss him so much,' her body finally gave up the fight and fell lifeless on Bane's arms. He felt the weigh on his shoulders and held her in place, 'kill me please, I can't do it myself, I'm not brave enough, kill me, please,' her head sank onto his shoulder, her eyes shut.

Bane heard her sob, he could feel her face moving every time that she stopped to breath, her cheeks trembling as she tried to hold back the tears which were reaching his skin through the fabrics of his shirt. The burning sensation grew bigger inside his chest, he began to feel caged, anxious and restless, he needed an exit. Bane dropped her body and stepped back from her. She looked so pathetic, like a moribund animal paralysed by the fear. He turned around ready to leave.

'Don't you dare to leave me like this,' Jane stood on her feet again and using the wall as a support, she managed to regain the position, 'finish what you've come to do, go on, do it.'

'I said no.'

'Do it.' Bane began to walk away. 'Do it!'

His feet stopped moving and his neck began to bend slowly, his eyes fixed on hers. Jane shivered and hit the wall with her back, her hands feeling the rugged texture of the bricks. She breathed in deeply and nodded, challenging him. Bane reached her quickly, his hands travelling to her neck, lifting her feet off the ground and pressing as hard as he could. Jane began to choke instantly, he would only need three or four seconds to knock her out, a few more to kill her, or maybe he could just break her neck, it would be quicker, she would not suffer, it was so easy. One. He kept pressing, three more and her brain would be damaged if he decided to stop, but he was not going to do so. Two. Her hands covered his, she was freezing cold because of all the sobbing. Three. Her stare fell upon his. Four. He removed his hands. Five. He held her close.

'No-' Jane coughed trying to catch her breath, '-why?'

'Because I said no.'

'I only wanted to be happy,' Jane realised that it was Bane's chest pressing against her cheek, his heart was beating fast but his breathing was untroubled. She tried to adapt to it and began to take deep intakes of air imitating the movement of his chest.

'Stay silent and keep breathing,' he said.

'I don-'

'Shut. Up.' his torso expanded as he tried to calm himself down too, 'and breathe.'

Bane's heart pounded slower, it was relaxing to listen to it, it reminded her of safety, she did not know why. Maybe because every time that she had hugged her husband she had felt safe. Her arms stretched out and surrounded his body in an attempt to feel that way again, like nothing would happen to her, like happiness was still a feasible possibility. Bane's back stiffened as her fingers stroked the fabric of his vest, spreading near his shoulder blades. Jane opened her eyes to reality and her husband's body transformed into that huge mass of muscle standing in front of her. She tried to remove her arms, but Bane held them in place.

'Try to inhale through your nose.'

She coughed when her lungs rejected the air. Bane ran the palm of his hand on her back, moving it in circles right behind her lungs. Jane closed her eyes again and let her imagination flow. She imagined that the body she was so close to was her husband's, it made her smile a little. Bane stopped stroking her back when her respiration normalised but did not remove his hand. She had never felt so relaxed, he could feel her smile right on top of the scar in the middle of his chest, and wondered what had caused it. He put his hands over her shoulders and checked her face. Her eyes were red; her eyelids, slightly swollen. The tears had created a small stream between her lips, which had gotten paler, and her neck had already began to redden. He passed his thumb over the lips, breaking the water flow, trying to bring the pink color back to them. Jane scowled at him and slapped his face in a rush of anger, although his hand intercepted hers in the air, grabbing her wrist with strength. She tried to resist and get rid of his grip but Bane's arm began to pull from hers and there was no way that she could fight that. He brought her hand close to his neck making her touch his skin; his heartbeats were quick under the palm of her hand, his breathing was becoming somewhat faster too. Jane frowned still feeling the tension on her arm. She wanted to say something but the words just would not come out, and when her lips parted, no sound came out of them.

'Believe it or not, I am as confused are you are,' his voice sounded harsh and strained. Bane forced her hand down his chest and stopped on top of his heart. His stare was intense, as if he had become the battle field of a war between his brain and his body. His hand moved slowly, putting pressure on her wrist without hurting her. Jane glared at him blushing with anger, her nostrils taking in all the air they could, her arm still trying to release itself.

'Let m-'

'Shut up,' he sighed trying to release tension from his body. He began to move his hand again and Jane panicked even more when her eyes were covered with his free hand. Jane struggled to set herself free but she could not move nor see. His hand smelled like soil and was rough on the surface, she moved her head again and hit the back of it against the wall. 'You are hurting yourself.'

'I don't care.'

'I am restraining your body, not your mind,' his hand stopped moving on top of his hips. Jane felt like he was giving her time to think but she could not focus her mind. Her tears began to flow again and soon covered his hand. He saw the drops falling down her cheek, she did not look angry any more though, she just looked scared and lost. The pressure on her wrist diminished, her breathing slowed down and when Bane dropped her hand, she did not take it away.

'I miss him too,' she took a deep breath, 'Roger.'

'I can understand that,' he imitated her and breathed deeply.

Jane sniffled and exhaled air through her mouth gradually. She could not even remember when had been the last time that she had seen her husband, or felt him. A finger slipped under Bane's vest. Roger. Jane's eyelids appeared to be glued together as she slid her whole hand under the garment. The skin that her fingers met was firm and scarred; the one that she was seeing, soft and rather mushy. Bane unfastened the shoulder and waist straps of the vest silently; her hand felt the loosening of the fabric and made its way up his chest at a slow pace. Jane's hand felt warm and tottery, it tickled his skin and also the quietness that he was trying to maintain. He could feel the tension of the fabric against his neck when her fingers approached his collarbone so he began to remove his shirt cautiously, trying not to wake her up from whatever better reality she was immersed in. That alternate reality did not include a man with a mask so when her hand felt his neck, he guided her down his shoulder and arm until their fingers became entwined and they both stopped breathing for a second. Her hand was small and weak compared to his and her fingertips felt like ants walking among them, playing with his, stroking his palm. Jane stepped forwards without opening her eyes, her step had been wobbly but her face remained still, wet from the tears, warm from his touch. Roger. Jane closed her fingers around his and drove his hand to her waist. All his efforts to keep his breathing as silent as possible vanished when his lungs let out all the air that was being kept inside of them in a noisy long exhalation. He slid her shirt up over her head, stroking her skin as his hands delineated her torso, shoulders and arms. He spotted several scars in the way, two of them from shootings, a few more from knives, all of them pale and smooth, perfectly healed. He brushed back the wet hair around her eyes and framed her face with his hands. For one second, he hoped he did not have that mask around his face so he could approach her even more without interrupting her thoughts and disturbing her reality with the touch of the cold metal. He tilted his head towards her unconsciously and rested his forehead on hers, the mask slightly touching her nose. Bane. Jane moved slowly, feeling the rough and pointy surface with her nose and cheek. She went past it to find a comfortable spot between his neck and shoulder. Roger. Her body relaxed under Bane's hands, feeling light and supple but also tired. He bent his knees, lifter her body up and carried her to bed.

Her eyes were open when he gently placed her under the dark green sheets, it was dark but he could distinguish the glow of her grey irises staring at him.

'Roger,' she said out loud tilting her head to a side and trying to focus her eyes on the photograph that stood on the night table, 'he's not here. He left,' she turned back to Bane and blinked quickly to get rid of the tears that had began to gather under her eyes, 'you are here, are you him?'

'I am here but I am certainly not your husband.'

'You haven't left.'

'I will. Tomorrow.'

'I know. Tomorrow.'

She blinked slowly, inviting him to come closer, her fingers sliding up and down his sides and tracing his scars. Bane closed his eyes and exhaled noisily, the look in her eyes was making him loose control and he did not want that to happen. Her fingers slid under the sides of his pants and stroked his hips.

'Oh, Jane,' his voice sounded like growl coming directly from the back of his throat. She looked at him in the darkness, bringing her hands to his face and caressing the skin around his eyes. 'You shouldn't have done that.'

Bane sank his face on her neck and inhaled deeply making an effort to catch a smell sweeter than that of the metal mask. There it was, a mix of soap and salty tears, tears that he had created. He explored her body with his hands, and cheeks imagining that the mask was not there and that his lips could kiss her skin. Being drawn to his own improved reality without the mask, he realised that Jane might still be in hers, creating a new world inside her mind where he probably did not even exist. He looked at her inspecting her face and the almost invisible smile that her lips were shaping. Her eyelids were shut again but her eyes moved under reacting to his movements. They followed his hands while they slowly and smoothly removed the rest of their clothes; they also followed hers when she reached to stroke his back... and they followed his body under the dark green sheets as it carefully merged with hers.

Roger.

A/N: -Things that I have learnt while writing this chapter: post-traumatic stress disorder.

-Yes, that is what Jane is suffering from. I read about it while I was beginning to write the first chapters and thought that it was exactly what she would be going through. She has been showing some of the symptoms in the past few chapters and I wanted to develop her 'disorder' until it came to this extreme point where her emotions and feelings are being completely messed up and altered. There was an interesting section about how people suffering from PTSD can develop special relationships towards the person that caused the trauma and thought it would be interesting to portray here.

-No, I'm not an expert in PTSD so if there is some specialist or person that suffered from it reading, sorry if I got it wrong :(

-Yes, I like reading about mental disorders, I think it is a very interesting field :)

-Thank you for reading! I really appreciate it!