Author's Note: What's this? Could it be? A resurrection!

Disclaimer: I do not own anything; DC owns it all, except for Aubrey.

About a half an hour after her call with John Blake, Aubrey found herself glued to the television as she watched the football field explode on the news. Then, the hulking mass known only as Bane stepped onto the field. He took the headset off of someone and began to speak into it.

"Gotham," he greeted, "take control of your city." He ushered to some mercenaries who brought out the glowing core that she had helped activate earlier. She gasped, eyes wide. "This is the instrument of your liberation."

Bane's mercenaries then thrust the scientist she'd seen earlier to his knees. Bane leaned over him, "Introduce yourself to the world," he held out the microphone and turned the scientist's head towards the camera.

"Dr. Leonid Pavel," the man on his knees announced, "nuclear physicist."

"Now," Bane put his hand on the scientist's shoulder, "tell the world what this is."

"A fully primed neutron bomb. With a blast radius of six miles."

"And who can disarm such a device?"

"Only me," the scientist spoke confidently.

"Thank you, doctor," Bane reached forward and snapped the man's neck. Aubrey gasped, recoiling as the audience in the stadium screamed. She saw as they panned over one section that the mayor's box was on fire.

"This bomb is armed, the bomb is mobile," Bane continued on, "the identity of the triggerman is a mystery. One of you holds the detonator – we come not as conquerors, but as liberators to return control of this city to the people. At the first sign of interference from the outside world or of people attempting to flee, this anonymous Gothamite – this unsung hero – will trigger the bomb. For now, martial law is in effect. Return to your homes, hold your families close, and wait. Tomorrow you claim what is rightfully yours." And with that, he dropped the headset and walked off the field, followed by his mercenaries, and by his bomb.

Aubrey glanced around the manor, realization hitting her fast. The people would take over the city – what they thought was theirs. She understood that this meant that people would try and seize Wayne manor – it wasn't safe. She sent a quick message to Alfred, informing him to stay put, to stay safely hidden until she came for him. She then moved up to her room and began to pack essentials and comfortable clothes – clothes she could run in, clothes she could fight in.

With that, she closed the door to the manor behind her as she left, not bothering to lock it as she knew it would get broken into anyway, and continued on her way. She decided to go to John's apartment. She would assess the situation from there and determine whether Alfred was safer where he was or if he would be better off with them, in a group.

Upon arriving to John's it was nearing sunset. She knocked on his apartment door, stepping back as he opened it. He looked over her shoulder, "No one came up behind you, did they?"

"No, why?" she asked confused as she pushed past him. She saw Jim sitting on John's couch and her eyes lit up, "Hey, stranger!"

"Hello, yourself," Jim joked, leaning upwards as Aubrey bent over to kiss his cheek, "We're just listening to the radio."

"What's the radio saying?" she plopped down next to him as John joined them.

"That the government has not abandoned us but they do not negotiate with terrorists."

"What does that mean?" John asked, concerned.

Aubrey sighed, "That we're on our own."

"I have to get in front of a camera," Gordon began to say. He didn't get far before Aubrey cut him off, "they'll kill you the second you show your face."

"The Mayor's dead," Jim told her. "I'm the symbol of law and order. Bane says he's giving Gotham back to the people – they need to know that I could lead."

"Bane's not gonna let that happen, sir," John informed him.

"Besides, think of the people that live in this city," Aubrey added on, "Who exactly is he giving control to?"

"All of the scum that were on the streets got locked up due to the Dent act," Blake reasoned.

"But how long are they going to stay locked up for?" Aubrey glanced at him, eyebrow raised.

Aubrey had been right in questioning how long it would take before someone let the prisoners out of Blackgate. Bane took it upon himself to take on such a task, discrediting James Gordon and the Harvey Dent act as he did so. The trio watched on the news the next day, as someone filmed from a nearby rooftop, all of the prisoners escaping from the prison before word was given that they were on to the asylum next.

She froze completely; all of her muscles tense at the realization that the release of the patients at the asylum included one in particular – him. Jim caught her frozen stance out of the corner of his eye and laid a hand on hers, "Aubrey, you'll be fine. Bane might not even let him out – he wants to do something to this city and the Joker would interfere with that, he had his own plans in mind for Gotham."

"Besides," John added, "How would he even know you were here if he did get out?"

Aubrey nodded quickly before standing from her place on the couch and moving into John's room, shutting the door behind her as she began to shake. She could only hope that Jonathan Crane could continue to prevent the Joker from getting to her.

Bane moved through the halls of the asylum past the patients who were becoming frantic in their escape with ease. His large frame towered over almost all of the patients. He paused as he neared a patient outside of a room that still appeared to be locked.

The patient was tall and slender; he could probably snap them in half. He moved over to him, "What are you doing? You're not leaving?"

The thin man turned to him, eyes widening slightly at how much larger Bane was than him. "I have to make sure this one doesn't," he informed the man.

"Jonathan Crane," Bane's voice lilted, "Arkham's former head psychiatrist."

"You seem to know me," Jonathan raised an eyebrow, "But I'm afraid they don't tell us much in here."

"I doubt that," Bane would have been smirking.

"You're Bane," Jonathan stated. "The liberator of Gotham."

"And you're preventing whom from escaping into the free world?" Bane asked, looking over his shoulder into the room. "Ah. The Joker."

"I can't let him out," Jonathan shrugged. "I made a promise."

"To Aubrey Wayne?" Bane asked. At Crane's shocked expression, he continued. "Yes, I've read up on Gotham's colorful history. I actually met Miss Wayne not too long ago. She seemed quite stable considering."

"Considering?"

"She should have received word by now that her brother may have met his end at my hands," Bane chuckled. "She is quite arrogant."

"Is she alright?" Jonathan asked.

"I let her go," Bane nodded, "The rich should witness the new world. Although, I do need someone to judge them for their sins as well. I did not plan on letting the Joker out, Dr. Crane, I was actually looking for you."

"Me?"

"Tell me, have you ever though about becoming a judge?"

Jonathan smirked, "But what about…"

"He can stay there. I will spread the word. There is no place for him in this new world. I brought it down without even producing a bomb trigger," Bane glanced into the dark cell. "I'm sure he'll last long enough to see it. Come along, Mr. Crane. I believe we have some business to discuss…" And with that, Bane put one hulking arm around Jonathan Crane's lean frame and led him off.

"Death or exile?" Crane leered down at James Gordon.

"Jon," a small voice spoke up from behind Gordon, "Don't do this."

Crane's eyes narrowed as he strained his neck to see where the voice came from. Aubrey Wayne produced herself from behind Gordon and the room turned to look at her.

"Aubrey," he whispered.

Gordon tried to tuck her away; "If you think we're going out on that ice willingly, Crane…" he spoke up.

"So it's death then?" Jonathan smirked.

"It looks that way," Gordon nodded. Aubrey's eyes widened as she clung to the Commissioner.

"Fine then, death! By exile. Guards!"

The guards took away James and the other cops that were with him while two separate sets came for Aubrey and Miranda Tate. She saw Miranda walk willingly with them in one direction while she was dragged, kicking and screaming, in another.

She waited in a room for what felt like a half an hour, before Jonathan Crane entered.

"Aubrey!" he called, "I've been so worried –"

He didn't get a chance to finish his sentence or wrap his arms around her as he'd made a move to, because Aubrey slapped him in the face, "Why?"

"Why? Why what?"

"Why would you send Jim to the ice? In front of me! You know what Jim Gordon means to me."

"Aubrey I couldn't just let him go – he instated the Dent act."

"To protect us all!" She defended.

"I do have some good news for you," he smiled. "The Joker is still rotting in his padded cell – Bane gave strict orders that he be left there."

"That's inhumane," Aubrey shook her head. "Even for the Joker. Why did he leave him there like that? Did you ask him to?"

"Yes, but," he added on quickly as her face turned to disgust, "Bane never had any plans to free him in the first place!"

"Why not?"

"He thinks the Joker might be the only one that would mess up his plan – because the Joker wanted to be the death of this city. You know he wouldn't stand to let someone else do this."

"Well, I guess I know what I have to do then," Aubrey turned away.

"What's that?"

"I have to go see a clown about a birthday party," she called over her shoulder as she left the room.

Lord help me, she thought.

Getting to Arkham had been interesting. She hadn't had a problem finding a car with the keys still in it, but getting over to the Narrows with Bane's security had proved difficult. She finally crossed the bridge to Arkham Island, a part of the city that wasn't patrolled, and parked right in front of the hospital entrance.

Entering, she tensed up. It was so quiet in the hospital that it was unnerving. She panicked for a moment, hoping that none of the patients still sought refuge in the old building. She had to hurry up.

First, she made her way to the basement level and was ecstatic when she realized the door for the patient belongings was ajar – they must have opened it in their escape. Fortunately, the one box she wanted was still intact. It was if the other patients were afraid to even go near his belongings.

She opened it, checking to make sure everything he needed was inside, and continued on her way.

Once she got to the ward for level 2 patients, she could hear a distant singing. She gulped, stepping out of the stairwell and moving quietly to the cell she knew the Joker to be in. His singing stopped as soon as she was outside his door.

"Is someone out there?" he called, sounding somewhat weak.

She took a deep breath, "Joker."

"Toots. What are you doing uhhere?"

"I came to talk to you. About what's going on."

"Why?"

"Because someone else is destroying Gotham. And I thought that was your job."

He chuckled, "Now you get it."

Her fingers trembled as they reached into the back pocket of her jeans and pulled out a small plastic card. Her thumb ran over the picture of Jeremiah Arkham on the front of it - his security card. She'd found it in Jonathan's make-shift judge's quarters and only assumed that he had sentenced his old friend to death. It was as if in the back of her mind she knew she had to do this, before she had known herself.

Her breathing ceased as she quickly slid the keycard into the reader, stepping back as the reader beeped and flashed green before the door slid open.

The Joker's head looked up slowly before the rest of his body moved over to the door. He stared at her from inside of his cell. "What are you doing?"

Her heart sank, it was the most normal tone to have ever come out of his mouth in her presence. He sounded lost and confused – human, even.

"I'm giving you a second chance," she spoke calmly as she held out the box to him, "To destroy Gotham. I'd rather it be you than him."

"Toots," he mocked, sounding as if that was the sweetest thing he'd heard. Within a second, he leapt at her, dipping her down romantically and kissing her with an exaggerating smooching sound. He let her drop to the floor and he laughed maniacally.

"I just knew ya'd come for me," he smirked, helping her back up. He paused, seeing the box, "What's that?"

"It's your stuff," she held it out again.

He opened the box, his eyes lighting up like a kid on Christmas before he dropped the box and began to root through it, stripping right there and changing before putting his knives into his pockets. Though his face was still bare, he resembled his old self again, which struck a reality check in Aubrey's mind. What was she doing?

The Joker turned to her, grinning. "Now, let's go set up shop somewhere," he grabbed her wrist and began to drag her off.

He stopped in front of the car she'd stolen and held out one hand, "Keys?"

"Nuh-uh," she shook her head and freed her hand from his wrist, "You're not driving – I've seen that before."

"Toots," he tsked, "Give me the keys."

She pouted, dropping the keys into his hand. He patted her head and jumped into the car, barely allowing her to close the passenger door behind herself before he tore off.

"Where are we going?" she asked timidly, glancing over at him.

He glanced back over at her, a grin growing on his face, "Home!"