Hey everyone! I'm so so sorry that I haven't updated this in so long! Life kind of got away from me, and it's been a bit crazy. Thank you all so much for sticking with me and waiting so patiently for my updates, y'all are the best (:

I awaken the next day, my unfamiliar surroundings frightening me, memories and flashbacks of Joker and Ra's fast-forwarding through my mind.

I fall from the couch and onto the floor, my hand slapping the coffee table on the way down.

"Eve?"

I hear footfalls approach the room, and my best friend rounds the corner.

"Eve! You okay?" she screeches, rushing to me.

I hold up a hand to help her calm down.

"I'm fine, I just …" I trailed off as she reached me and bent over to my level.

Before I know it, tears blur my vision and trickle down my cheeks.

"Oh, Eve…" I hear Devyn coo, wiping away my tears. "You're okay. You're safe."

"I was so scared. I was going to die, Dev."

She placed a hand on my uninjured shoulder.

"But you didn't. You're alive, thanks to the Bat. Hell, he brought you directly to me last night."

I sat in silence. It's true, I am alive, but my scars were going to run deeper and meld with my buried hurts.

"I need to know if Bruce is okay," I hear myself murmur aloud.

"What?"

"Bruce," I said a bit louder. "I need to know if he's okay."

"I'll drive you," she offered.

"Thanks, but…"

"No 'but's, missy," she counters immediately. "Though, we may want to shower first if we're going to see your crush."

"Dev…" I smiled a bit for the first time that day, lightly pushing my best friend from me with the palm of my hand.

"Hey!" she laughed and smiled. "Come on, guests first."

She helped me to my feet and I walked to her bathroom, looking at my reflection as I did so. What was left of my mascara and eyeliner was smeared across and under my eyes, reminding me a bit of raccoons. My eyes drifted to my throat, where a gauze pad covered a small section; I peered at my shoulder next. My hand unconsciously traveled to the site of where the Joker carved his insignia into my flesh. I grimaced at the still-vivid memory, and took a deep breath and let it out before I removed the gauze. I wouldn't've guessed that a lunatic could have left such a jagged 'J', but he managed to do it, if you looked at it for long enough, that is. I swallowed hard. I took another deep breath and braced myself for the knife blade wound on my throat from when the blonde man held me hostage after Batman showed up.

I turned away from my reflection, starting the shower's deluge of hot water. I stripped down from the borrowed pair of shorts and GCFD t-shirt. I gently stepped into the shower. I stood, palms pressed against the still-cool tiles of the shower, leaning over slightly allowing the hot water to run down my sore, aching body. More and more memories of the night invaded, and where the shower water and my tears met, I didn't know.

My mind took me back to July 18. The day that I lost my mother. My vivid memory placed my 15-year-old self once again in the passenger seat before the fatal car accident. My body physically shook as I recalled the impact, and Mom's body jolted quickly to the side, toward me. I heard our screams, smelled my mom's blood. I watched in horror as my mom's head lulled to the side, blood covering her face and coming out of her ears, nose, and mouth. I remember the last thing that Mom ever told me: "I love you, 'line."

Reality hit me, and I gasped, letting out a strangled sob. I felt my legs begin to tremble, and slowly sat myself down on the floor of the shower, placing my head on my knees and lacing my arms around my legs.

I let myself stay like that for a few minutes, trying to get the world, my memories to slow down around me. My sobs must have been louder than I had thought, because there was knocking on the bathroom door.

"Sweetie, are you okay?"

I couldn't find my voice to answer, silently shaking my head no as I continued to cry.

Bruce tossed and turned, getting an even less amount of sleep than usual. He just couldn't get Evangeline off of his mind. He knew that she was safe at her friend's house, but he just still couldn't help but worry about her. He had to tear himself away from his watch just to go home in a dire attempt at some rest.

"Master Wayne?" Alfred's voice broke the silence.

Bruce turned over, toward the source of his butler's voice.

"You're worried," he simply states, placing a tray with a glass of water and some Tylenol on the bedside table.

Bruce's eyes only wandered to Alfred and he nodded.

"She's …" he began, pausing.

"She's …?" Alfred pressed.

"I'm torn, Alfred," he admitted.

"Torn over what, sir?"

"Do I let her in, tell her everything. Or do I shut her out…?"

"If I may, sir, the fact that you have to ask yourself this question means that in your heart you know the answer."

Before Bruce could ask him what he meant, Alfred did an about face and walked out of the room.

Did he know? What he had said to Alfred was true – that she was different than Rachel. Bruce thought about the date that they had, an uncharacteristic smile gracing his features as he recalled how positively beautiful Evangeline had looked and how she naturally glided in her heels. How she had kissed his cheek the day that he brought her home from the hospital.

He knew what his heart wanted. What he truly wanted, and that was her in his life.

His mind made up, Bruce downed the Tylenol and the water and threw the covers off of him. He padded across the room to the massive en suite bathroom and got ready for the day. He dressed in a simple pair of jeans and a plain, black, short-sleeve t-shirt. Once he deemed himself presentable and ready for a day at home, he exited the room and made his way downstairs to the kitchen, no doubt where Alfred was.

Sure enough, his keen senses told him that Alfred was indeed preparing lunch.

"Have you made a choice, Master Wayne?" Alfred asks, not even turning around to see Bruce.

He smirked a bit, knowing that the old man is still so spry.

"I have."

Alfred turned around now.

"And?" he inquired.

Bruce nodded his head, a silent confirmation to Alfred that he was letting her in, was going to tell her everything instead of shutting her out.

"I'm quite happy to hear that, sir. You need to allow yourself to be happy."

Bruce had to agree, what with being Batman and being the CEO of Wayne Enterprises, he didn't exactly have much opportunity to be truly happy.

The sound of the buzz from the front gate at the entrance to the manor rang in the front room.

Bruce and Alfred shared a look of slight confusion, before Alfred left the room.

"Wayne residence, may I help you?"

Bruce left the room quietly to follow Alfred.

"Hi, my name is Devyn Ambruster, I have my friend with me."

Devyn – Bruce's brain quickly remembered who she was. The friend of Evangeline that he left her with last night after he had saved Evangeline.

Bruce shortly nodded to Alfred, signaling that he knew the name.

"Evangeline is most likely with her. She wouldn't have a reason to come here if she wasn't."

Alfred nodded his head.

"Shall I prepare some coffee?"

"Please. If anything I'll have some," Bruce said, opening the front door.

I sat in the passenger seat of Devyn's Tahoe, fidgeting as she parked. My eyes caught movement and I soon saw the front door open and Bruce subsequently appear.

I swear my heart skipped a beat. I saw Bruce, and without thinking, threw off my seatbelt and threw open the door. I quickly stepped out, wearing Devyn's borrowed sandals, jean shorts, and v-neck shirt. Bruce and I made eye contact and my feet carried me to him, like I was on auto-pilot. Bruce's small smile urged my feet toward him faster, and soon I gently collided with him in a gentle hug, which he returned.

"I'm so glad you're okay," was the first thing that I said to him.

I felt his arms tighten for a brief moment around me, and a hand laces itself around the back of my head, almost as if he's cradling me.

"And you… You're okay?"

I pulled away from him to face him completely.

"I had a lot of help, but I'm alive," I muster a forced smile.

"Batman?" he asks, his eyes flitting to my stitched up throat.

"Yeah," I nod. "Guy nearly killed me," I tell him, gesturing to my throat. "…until Batman showed up and saved me."

"I owe him, then," he quietly says, as his hand delicately caresses my cheek.

I give him a lop-sided grin.

Just then, Devyn cleared her throat.

"I'm, uhm, still here," she said, looking down at her feet.

I grimace slightly.

"Sorry, Dev," I awkwardly laugh.

"Master Wayne, there is coffee in the living room. Good afternoon, Miss Price, Miss Ambruster," Alfred greets us, inclining his head to each of us.

"Hi, Alfred," I greet him.

Devyn blushes and is obviously flustered at his formalities and I laugh lightly.

"Thank you, Alfred. Shall we?" Bruce gestures into the large estate.

We sat in the cozy living room for a while and chatted, mainly it was Devyn and I chatting about how we had met and had become friends and things that we had seen and experienced as paramedics.

"I remember the day we got assigned to the Narrows," Devyn reminisced.

"Oh, Christ, yeah, the day everything went to complete shit thanks to… what was his name? Scarecrow?" I leaned back into the cushions of the couch.

"You were there?" Bruce asked, his eyebrows practically flying off of his forehead.

I nodded. "It was horrible. Chaos in the streets."

"People running around, begging people for their lives…" Devyn remembered.

"You remember that fog that was around all night? I swear I had a headache for a week after that."

Devyn nodded. "I'll never get it out of my head, that whole night."

"And how they trapped us in the Narrows –"

"And how mad Flanch was," Devyn laughed.

"We got an immediate raise that night, all of the paramedics that were in the Narrows," I turned back to Bruce, who seemed to be studying me. "You okay?" I ask him.

I see his eyes refocus.

"Hm? Yeah, just remembering that night, too. I heard about it all on the news."

"You didn't want to be there," Devyn started. "I don't know how Batman did it."

"I don't either. Then again I don't understand how he does a lot of things."

"He's certainly a mystery, isn't he?" Bruce wonders.

I found myself nodding, looking back toward Bruce, more specifically his hazel eyes that I have found that I love.

A flicker of a memory of being close to Batman pops to the forefront of my mind. The chin, the eyes… The eyes.

He couldn't be Batman.