So, anyone else in denial? I'm still reeling from Endgame and the latest Game of Thrones... Maybe that's why I decided to channel my angst into this chapter and get it out to you wonderful people.

I will confess though, that it is a little shorter than usual as this is only half the original chapter I had ready to post. I split it into two as it was getting pretty long. But don't worry, I'm editing the other half now so you will have it asap! As always, I love hearing from each and every one of you. Till next time...

Thesilentmage x

Sparring. Sparring with Blake… a phrase that once upon a time would have sounded completely bizarre to Diane Lance. Nowadays? Not so much.

She paused, tying her hair back as she watched her partner striding his way across the dimly lit warehouse and towards the designated zone they had used as their training area.

Blake stepped in slowly, giving her a small smile as he did. He seemed quieter than usual that evening, but he didn't need to speak. Whatever it was, hopefully going a few rounds would help get it out of his system. It normally did.

This was one of the easier ways to keep him occupied. Making him feel useful had a placating effect on him, as well as helping her to channel his never-ending frustration at their lack of progress.

Needless to say, Diane was more than ready to let it all out on the mat. Blake seemed to be too by the way he rolled up his sleeves and clicked his neck side to side.

"Blake, you sure you're good?" she asked casually.

"Yeah. Fine," he replied quickly. He was too dismissive as he stepped up, his sneakers squashing the foam beneath them as it took his weight.

"Definitely?" Diane continued, spreading her feet into a starting stance and squaring up against her opponent.

Again, Blake just nodded. "Definitely - so bring it Blondie."

"If you say so."

With that she lashed out, driving her foot at his chest sharply, twisting her body as she did. She gave no warning. She merely clenched her fists and began the match without another word, catching Blake entirely off guard.

Blake smirked, using the force to swing around and knock her off her feet.

Diane yelped a little, as her legs were pulled out from beneath her. She went to the ground instantly, but twisted, catching herself and turning so that she lay on her back. She tilted her weight, sweeping her legs over her head and then swinging them back forward so that she leapt up to her feet. She gave Blake a small glance, but lunged, driving her fist towards his head with all her strength.

Blake barely had time to blink as he ducked, grabbing her arm, flipping her over him as he'd been taught. Seizing her wrist, he pulled her over with him as he went. He landed therefore on top of Diane, pinning her awkwardly to the mat.

As she gazed up at him though, she couldn't help but notice his eyes seemed cold for once… almost empty as he stared down at her on the mat. Then, there was the fact he was being stronger than usual, for some reason. It left her a little curious, if not confused.

"Blake?" Diane breathed. This wasn't like their normal sparring matches. Not by far.

What didn't help was how he didn't respond to the question. Instead, he pushed down a little harder on Diane's arm so that there was a small burst of pain in her shoulder, causing her to react with a yelp and break free of his grip.

Blake didn't waste a second, watching as Diane sprung to her feet with him, and went in again, driving two sweeping punches at his head and another sharp kick.

She ducked, grabbing him and taking him down to the floor in a fluid twist, sitting on top of him to keep him pinned as best as she could.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Nothing's wrong, Di," he quipped back instantly.

He looked into her eyes for a brief second and Diane felt her heartbeat increase in panic. Blake lashed backwards, throwing his head up and smacking it against Diane's nose and twisting out of her grip, all within a split second.

"Could have fooled me," Diane retorted, flinching at the pain of her nose, but she gripped him, rolling with him on the mat.

He winced as she pinned him in payback.

"I'm not trying to fool you-you need to be harder with me," he scolded, squirming underneath her. He gave her another punch as if to prove it. "You're being soft."

"It's only because it's you."

"Me? Don't. Come on. Show me everything you've got."

"Blake, I'm not hurting you."

"You won't!" he snapped.

"Fine."

She continued, her face flushed and perspiration lining the top of her forehead. She pulled back, slipping out from his grasp and jumping to her feet. She knew he knew what this was about. He knew why he was being like this. He just wasn't going to tell her - annoyingly.

"Come on then. Again. Come at me."

Blake didn't need an invitation. The mere signal Diane was ready again and his fists began to fly, one way then the other in a rampage of blows. Each of which, Diane blocked with ease, ducking and diving around him as if this was all some kind of game - a game she was definitely winning.

"Faster," she snapped, driving a sharp punch towards him. "Plan your attack, watch your opponent - don't just lash out."

Blake barely had time to respond before he ducked, rolling out of the way with an indignant protest. "Don't scold me!"

"Then prove me wrong."

The invitation was there as Diane all but stood still, arms outstretched awaiting his attack. With a ferocious growl, he brought it, only to find his worldview suddenly turning as he flipped through the air. His arm twisted behind his back as Diane seized him, slamming him over her body and onto the floor.

The look she gave as she stared down at his prone form said it all. That, and the cocky foot she placed on his chest.

"See," she snapped. "You need to sort yourself out."

"I get it. Let's go again."

"Not until you cool it," Diane sniped, stepping back to let him up. "You'll be no good to me, Gotham or Barbara if you can't speed up your reaction time and chill the fuck out," she scolded, wiping her forehead as she grabbed her water bottle off the bench. "You're acting like this is some wrestling club. The streets aren't about posturing - it's about being sharp and strong. Get in, punch, get out."

At least his background was in boxing and gymnastics. It meant he was light on his feet, better at bouncing and diving about. That was one strength at least. He just needed the technique to apply it to, and the focus to concentrate on not just starting an all-out brawl.

"I'm off on patrol. Go home and cool off Blake before you get us killed." She froze, lingering in the doorway as she turned back to face him. "I miss her too, ok?" she whispered, all harshness and venom gone. "We'll get her back, but only if we're smart."

With that, she strutted away, leaving him lying there.

Determined. That was one word Barbara Gordon would use to describe Bane. She may have only known him a few days, but in that time she had quickly learnt he was a ruthless man, relentless in pursuing whatever it was his twisted heart desired.

Every day, without fail, he would come. Him, and the two or three men he brought with him. Whether they were for his protection, or to intimidate her she couldn't be sure. Either way, they were pointless. Bane was strong enough to manage alone.

That fact had become abundantly clear the past few days… or so her aching bruised body reminded her. This final punch was just one of many she'd become accustomed to receiving.

Still, there was something about expecting pain that made it feel ten times worse. Or at least that had always been Barbara's experience with it, whether it be falling from a tree, tripping down a staircase or watching a fist flying towards your face.

The waiting… the expectation… the way your body freezes, helpless to do anything except brace in a frantic attempt to minimise the pain, the damage about to be inflicted.

That was how Barbara felt at that moment.

Her cry was strangled as she fell forward again, dropping to all fours as the strength left her body. No matter how strong she felt inside, her determination burning beneath her skin not to break - not to show weakness, it was futile. She was only human at the end of the day. No matter how much she had tried to suppress that fact these past months, but strip away her mask, her bravado and her confidence and this was what was left… a young woman. A fragile young woman caught in the middle of a war she wasn't strong enough to win alone.

She would have cried but knew it would be pointless. The tears that slid from her eyes were involuntary - her body betraying her of its own accord, unable to process the pain that now radiated over her whole body.

This was why he'd kept her alive. This was why he'd sent in a doctor to patch up her shoulder so she wouldn't bleed to death. Thankfully the bullet had passed cleanly through, and they'd stemmed the blood flow that would have otherwise killed her. This was why he had the guards shove a tray of food through the door twice a day… it wasn't compassion. It wasn't mercy.

It was pure selfish need.

Else he'd have made the food edible, or given her pain medication to handle her shoulder and sides. Instead, he left her like this lingering on the bridge between life and death, agony and unconsciousness.

She lay on the cold ground. The sting of the stone beneath her cheek was almost welcome against her sweat coated brow. True, she was shaking anyway from the pain so it was hard to tell whether her shivers were from the cold or her agony. Either way, she felt almost delirious, rooted only to this reality by the pain that kept stabbing her sharply as a reminder.

She lay there, groaning through gritted teeth as she tried to swallow her pain from where his fist had struck her chest. But the impact was enough that she knew it wouldn't be so easy to hide this time, to remain blank-faced.

"You want me to break," she choked, "to give into the darkness that plagues your soul? Well, good luck but it isn't going to work, Bane."

"But it already is."

"Is it?" she giggled wickedly, staring up at him with more malice than she'd ever felt for another human being in her entire life. How easy it would be to shoot him right then… to stab him, had the opportunity arisen. Screw being moral. Screw everything that had brought her to this point. Maybe the Bats had it wrong after all?

Sometimes fire needed to be put out, rather than contained.

Bane evidently agreed with that philosophy, slowly eroding her soul. Every strike, every snipe, every sneer… he was breaking her beyond recognition for what he wanted, and when he was done he would have no further use for her.

"I'd believe so, Miss Gordon," he chuckled darkly, dropping down to a crouch. His eyes found hers, as he gripped the back of her hair and hauled her face up towards his. Even with his mask, she could see the grin beneath. "You've done admirably, survived longer than I suspect most of my men would… they lack the fire that's within your soul, but it won't be enough. Not in the end. You will break just as any other would -whether it be tomorrow, the day after or even a week from now. You are nothing but a fragile, weak, excuse of a leader… a beacon of hope for the weak and the corrupt."

"I am not."

"You are," he chided condescendingly. "And what's worse is you know it yourself. Deep down. You hear the voice calling to you, to surrender… to save yourself, unlike Batman. He too was weak - so I broke him. I snapped him directly in half. Do I need to do the same to you, Miss Gordon?"

He released her head, letting her drop to the floor with a sickening thud.

The scream was harrowing as it ricocheted off the walls and presumably down the corridor beyond. A sick reminder to everyone else trapped down here of the fate that most likely awaited them once Bane tired of them.

"Tell me where your father is."

Barbara shook her head. "No… You want me to save myself, to surrender - to even want to hate you so badly I could kill you."

"And you don't?" There was something mocking, yet inquisitive as he knelt before her. His hands reached into the folds of his coat, yet Barbara didn't flinch. Instead, she watched with perfect eye contact as he removed what she realised was a knife. The metal glimmered in the chemical glow of the lights overhead.

"The Batman has lived in darkness, fought from the shadows for the light."

"And you think me so different?" Bane enquired, laying the knife down just out of her reach. It was either a taunt or an invitation. Barbara hadn't the first clue which it was.

"I know you are."

It was waiting for her… baiting her… doing exactly what Bane wanted her to do.

"Then what are you waiting for? Go on," he urged, spreading his arms open wide in a clear target for her. "You know you want to. End this suffering, Miss Gordon. Show me the killer inside of you."

Barbara Gordon had never been closer to giving in, in her whole life. The girl who had always had such a clear moral compass, such set opinions and yet, right then… she'd have set them all ablaze to watch Bane suffer. No matter the fact she knew it would play right into his hands… make her as bad as he to even try.

A fierce growl filled her throat as she reached for the knife, blinking back the tears of agonised frustration that threatened to flood out for the world to see. She could end this… right now.

She held the hilt in her hands but turned sharply. Instead, she twisted it around, positioning the point directly over her heart.

"I'll do it," she hissed resolutely.

She was Barbara Gordon. Batgirl. She didn't cower no matter what. That was the truth of who she was and if Bane wanted to see that then she had no issue reminding him just who exactly he was messing with.

It would take more than this cage to hold her.

"Every time, Miss Gordon. Every time," Bane laughed, eyes wide with excitement. It was as if he couldn't believe what he was witnessing. "You never fail to astound me with something new, something unexpected from the great commissioner's daughter."

'Exactly," she hissed, watching as the men surrounding her seemed to edge closer. Poised, all of them, as if waiting for her to slip up. "You knew who I was and yet you still underestimated me. Being the commissioner's daughter makes me strong, not weak."

"Evidently."

"So don't you ever forget who I am… who I really am, and it's not like you. I'm no killer… no monster."

Bane sighed. "Which is why we shall never agree, Miss Gordon. What a shame."

He nodded in some sort of signal. There was a resulting burst of pain in the back of Barbara's head.

Then she knew nothing but darkness.

Needless to say, Diane was merely glad to just be out of the safe house.

It had been hellish enough between the three of them, all in one giant spiral of worry. Of course, Blake was the worst, blaming himself over and over again for what had happened. Gordon came a close second, with his incessant pacing, and desperation to escape the apartment to start looking for his absent daughter. Diane had threatened to handcuff them to the radiator more than once in the past few days.

Who knew babysitting could be so hard?

Nevertheless, she'd soldiered on, knowing it was exactly what Barbara would want - what she would do had their situations been reversed. Just because her friend wasn't physically next to her to badger her didn't mean Diane was about to let her down anytime soon.

So, every day since, she had got up. She had carried on, both during the day and during the night. All the while she had been desperately seeking for answers, for a solution to this shit hole of a situation she had found herself in.

That was why she was here even if she knew this was dangerous. Sure, they'd taken single patrol routes before and weren't exactly joined at the hip, but running around Gotham these past nights alone… her head hadn't exactly been in the right place. If she'd been thinking straight she would have realised that and probably talked herself out of this one woman crusade. But she hadn't.

She was anxious. She was angry - and worst of all, she was determined. She would do whatever it took to not only remind Bane that there was more than one brave soul in this town but also to find where on earth he was keeping Barbara.

It was why she was here at this late hour, standing in the last place she wanted to be. The back alleyways of Gotham never got any prettier, even when covered in muddied snow. Still, she had faith and so far that had proved to have worked in her favour. Diane just prayed tonight wasn't the night the world decided to prove her wrong… again.

As if sensing her doubts, fate decided that was the moment to provide the answer and put her out of her misery. A faint clack of heels on concrete was the first signal she was no longer alone.

Diane glanced up. A smile flickered on her lips. Apparently, she wasn't as wrong as she'd feared she'd be. Gotham still had some faith left to spare.

"Nice evening for a tete a tete, don't you agree?"

"Perhaps," Diane smirked, turning her attention fully towards her guest. "Then again, I've learnt we can't be too picky these days about location - as much as I wish this was happening in some nice restaurant somewhere, with a good glass of wine."

Selina Kyle couldn't help but honestly laugh at that, clutching her fur coat tighter around her slender body. "Now you're talking," she purred. "God what I'd do for some wine right now. That or a decent meal that didn't come out of a can."

"Don't - if I even think about it I may cry," Diane scoffed, pleased to know some experiences were universal. For all her posturing, Selina Kyle was a human just like the rest of them. Perhaps that was what prompted her to ask, "how you been?"

"Busy. You?"

"It's… it's not been our best week." That felt like the understatement of the year, still, Diane did her best to keep a semblance of a smile on her face as she said it.

"So I heard." There was genuine compassion in Selina's tone as she smiled at the other woman, something resembling pity filling her eyes as she stepped closer towards her. "Bane didn't strike me as the devious type but clearly we were wrong about him."

"Is that why you called me here?"

"Well, it wasn't so we could discuss hair and makeup tips," Selina sniped, shaking her head. Still, Diane could see the jibe was made with no other intention than trying to retain a semblance of normalcy between the pair of them. Selina had never struck her as the type to offer her a hug instead. Apparently, sarcasm was her brand of comfort. "Come on, I thought you had some brains blondie. Or was that all Red's job? She seemed like the leader out of the pair of you."

Diane rolled her eyes. "What do you want Selina? I have better things to do than stand here, freezing my ass off so we can play cat fight. You called me here, so talk."

Selina shrugged. Well, who was she to deny the woman what she wanted to know? It was why she turned and stated simply, "I know where she is."

Diane blinked. She didn't think her jaw could have dropped any lower. "Barbara?"

Selina rolled her eyes. "Shut your mouth before you catch flies. Who else would I be talking about?"

"Where is she?"

"I asked around when I started hearing whispers of what was going on," Selina explained quietly, glancing around as if afraid who may be listening to their conversation. Maybe that was why she pulled the girl closer towards her and further into the shadows. "I ended up hearing from a friend who knows someone working on the inside - he says they got her. She's being held in Bane's labyrinth inside city hall."

"Who's the friend?"

"Do you think I'd lie to you?" Selina snapped indignantly, narrowing her eyes at Diane's blunt tone. "I checked out the Intel myself. I want her free just as much as you do. I thought I made it clear last time I'm not the gushy type, but I admire you both and what you're doing."

The look Diane gave her was enough of a warning. Still, it wasn't as if she needed one. Selina had no reason to lie - she had no reason to even help these people except a found sense of respect.

Diane paused for another long minute, clutching her batons tighter in her grip as she stared Selina down. "You mean it? … she's at City Hall?"

"Yes," Selina sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. "I told you. That's where Bane and his freaks are holed up. He keeps his prisoners in the offices and closets downstairs until they can be tried by his freak court. If your friend was taken by him, that's where she'll be - if she hasn't been tried already."

"She hasn't. We'd know."

"Well, you happen to be right about that." Selina paused, tilting her head. "Last I heard, the rumour is he's got a red-headed girl locked away. High importance apparently… has men guarding her at all times, except for when he's talking to her himself."

Diane gasped sharply, trying and failing not to wince. She knew Bane would be using Barbara for information, but the thought of what he could be doing to her…

"You happen to know exactly where she is? Specifics or anything else useful?"

"I've told you what I know," Selina growled, suddenly defensive. She took a step back and prepared to melt back into the shadows from whence she had come. "I don't want any more trouble. She's in City Hall, locked up in the old basement. It's up to you to find her or whatever. You're the vigilante hero wannabe."

"Says someone who's been doing a lot of her own hero vigilante crap recently," Diane shot back with a smirk but knew better than to press. She had what she'd come for. That was enough for tonight. She needed to get back and share the news as quickly as possible with the others and figure out what the hell they did next. "Thanks for telling me this. I appreciate it."

"Just save her, ok?" The earnest tone actually shocked Diane as she froze, looking back at the woman before her with a new understanding in her eyes. There, for once, was genuine honesty - a vulnerability even, exposed for her to see. The cat may have had claws, but beneath was a woman with a heart like any other. "Don't let Bane win by crushing one more woman who has the guts to say no to his ugly face."

Diane was already one step ahead.