"Miss Dubois," James Gordon exclaimed when he saw the young woman move into the base which he and Blake were hiding in along with some other men. Time for sleep was little and time for eating was even smaller when they were constantly trailing Bane's men. But, the night had swept over them and Gordon realised even officers needed to sleep. The room was small and makeshift with duvets strewn across the place and empty water bottles thrown too. They had decided to hide themselves out in the back of some restaurant, one man keeping watch all the time in case Bane's men found them.

"Commissioner Gordon," Isabelle managed to greet him and he shook his head sadly at her.

"Just Gordon," he told her and she nodded once at him. "What brings you here?"

"I decided to bring her back with me, sir," Blake said, placing his hand over his mouth as he coughed once and Gordon raised a brow in his direction, waiting for an explanation. "Jonathan Crane is tracking her location. I don't think she is safe without police protection." He informed the man and Gordon nodded once. He would talk to Blake on his own when he got a moment.

Gordon had been in the force for many years and he wasn't dumb. He knew when something was happening.

"Okay," he simply agreed. "As you can see, Miss Dubois, it isn't much. But...well...make yourself at home. You look like you could use a rest. I'll let Blake show you the ropes," he said and John nodded, thankful he hadn't chucked Isabelle out as Gordon then nodded at him. "You're on watch with me tonight, son."

Blake nodded in agreement, his hand moving onto the small of Isabelle's back as he showed her to a small sleeping bag in the back of the room which was his own. There weren't enough to go around and so sharing was the only thing which they had.

"I'd best be going back onto watch," he told her and she nodded once, feeling ever so awkward in the midst of this world which she wasn't a part of.

"I would have been fine with my mother, John," she whispered to him. "He wouldn't hurt me. I need to go back to her."

"And you can do," he promised her, his hand resting onto her arm to offer her some comfort. "I'll take you back tomorrow. This is just protection, Isabelle. Nothing more. Your mother agreed with me."

"Fine," Isabelle said, too tired and emotionally drained to continue her argument with him. She didn't want to leave her mother. She had protested against it until she was blue in the face, but, Lydia was having none of it. She threatened to drag her own daughter to the car if she didn't go.

Blake nodded once, managing a small smile at her before he turned on his heel and moved up the fire escape stairs, pushing the door open onto the outside world, standing on the steel mesh platform which overlooked the side street. Gordon was already sat against the wall, his hands rubbing themselves together to keep him protected from the cold air.

"Sit down, son," he ordered and Blake did just that, his legs outstretched in front of him as he placed his gun onto his lap. "I didn't know you'd become so friendly with Miss Dubois."

"Oh," Blake said, attempting to be nonchalant as he shrugged. "I just don't want Crane to get to her...I'm doing my job..."

"There are thousands of others in this city who could use your protection," Gordon deadpanned with him, looking into the dead of the night as John ran a hand through his hair. "Miss Dubois isn't the only female in this city who is at risk."

"I am aware," John said; his voice quite harsh as Gordon held his hands up in defence.

"I've seen it all son," he promised him. "I am a heck of a lot older than you."

"What do you mean?"

"I think you've gotten yourself a little crush," Gordon said and Black snorted loudly, shaking his head as he tried to contain himself from denial in the form of shouting.

"No!" he snapped out at the ex-Commissioner. "No...Isabelle's a...she's like...well...she's too hung up on her psychotic husband."

"Yes," Gordon nodded in agreement. "I am aware. I knew when I interviewed her eight years ago that it would take a long time for her to get over him."

"She hasn't done," Blake said quickly. Why was he being so defensive? He didn't understand it. "She says that it is complicated. I told her she deserves someone better...someone who would treat her right..."

"Someone like you?" Gordon suggested, unable to hide the smug grin which was on his face as Blake looked into the sky and shrugged once.

"What's wrong with me?" he wondered. "I'm not a bad guy."

"You're not," Gordon agreed and he stood up, patting Blake on the shoulder. "You'd best get a move on though. You've only got four and a bit months left to prove that to her."

"Where you going?" Blake wondered and Gordon looked down at him.

"It doesn't require two of us to keep watch. You're the youngest so you get this job."

...

"You're sick, mom!" Isabelle snapped at her mother as she stood in the living room and looked at the woman who was heaving, clutching her chest as she lay on the sofa and Isabelle panicked, wondering what to do. "We need to do something."

"No!" Lydia snapped at her. "It's too dangerous to go out there."

"I can't sit here and watch you," Isabelle sobbed once as John stood in the hallway, minding his own business. "I have to do something."

"You don't," Lydia promised her. "You really don't."

Isabelle felt her heart clench at what she was seeing. Her mother was laying her dressing gown, her forehead sweating as she clutched onto her side, the pain becoming unbearable for her as she grunted and cried loudly. Isabelle ran her hands through her hair before realising what she was going to do. She wasn't going to sit and do nothing.

Her plan was lunacy, yet, it was necessary.

"I'll get you a drink of water," Isabelle decided and she looked at John. "Can you stay with her?" she asked him and he nodded. Isabelle took a deep breath before she moved into the kitchen and looked back into the living room where John was assuring her mother things would be alright.

"Look after her," Lydia said, grabbing onto John's hand as he looked at the elder woman, her eyes scorching into his. "She's...she's been through enough...she needs someone like you..."

"I can only promise you that I will look after her as long as she's here," John informed her in a whisper. "She's...she's quite something..."

"He...he's twisted her mind...someone like you is what she needs...someone who will care for her..."

"Ma'am," John complained. "I've only known your daughter for a week..."

"And we only have four months until that bomb explodes," Lydia replied quickly. "She can't get off the island...Gotham...it will ruin her..."

"I'll try and get her off," John promised. "Will that help?"

"Where is she?" Lydia asked. "She was only getting water."

"I'll go look," John said, standing up and moving into the kitchen, his eyes darting around as he took in the sight of the backdoor which was open, the gust of cold air moving through it as he wondered what the hell she had done.

...

Being caught had never been part of Isabelle's plan until she saw her mother that morning. She saw the way she had looked...she was a shadow of her former self. Isabelle knew she was going to die, but, she wasn't going to do it in pain. Not when Isabelle could try to help her.

She's deliberately walked into a corner shop which was open and she knew it contained Bane's men. They looked her up and down as she picked up something which was only worth a few dollars and she threw the tin through the glass of the shop. Sure enough, she was apprehended by a burly man as he stood in front of her, grabbing onto her arm and hitting her around the face.

He'd told her never to do anything like that again or he'd make sure she regretted it. And then she panicked. If they let her go she'd never get her mother the medicine which she needed. She'd never get to him...he had power...he could help her...she'd do anything. And so, she had spat at him. Right in the face.

It earned her another punch, but, it also earned her with a one way trip to the city hall for aggressive behaviour. If she couldn't control herself then she wasn't to be a part of Gotham.

She struggled slightly, trying to show them she wasn't willingly going as they led her into the city hall and she looked around, noticing people sat inside, huddling together and waiting for their turn to be led up the steps where shouting was heard. Roars moved through Isabelle's body as she was placed in the queue and she looked around. She heard his voice demand order. She heard him tell them that their guilt had been determined by the city of Gotham and that this was merely a sentence.

What had she done?

Time ticked by slowly, the clock on the wall never seemed to change as she listened to the choice of exile and death. What happened if he didn't listen to her? What happened if her plan didn't go as she had hoped? What would she do?

"You're up next, pretty," a gruff voice snapped and Isabelle panicked as he grabbed hold of her arm, twisting it behind her back as he forced her up the stairs and past a line of jeering people. She was prey in this world. And the main predator was sat on the top of a mass pile of furniture, his eyes looking downwards before he moved them to the sheet of paper which was passed up to him, informing him of people's misdoings as they sat in the plush chair on the floor, waiting to be told their result.

Isabelle was pushed down onto the seat and she sat forward, glaring at the man as he stood to the side and she grabbed onto the handles, looking upward as the Judge remained silent; his eyes looking onto his lap until his attention was moved to the new piece of paper on his desk.

"Order," he demanded, slamming his gavel onto the desk before picking the paper up and reading from it as people went silent. "Next up, we have..." he trailed off as he read the name and his eyes went wide, their blueness moving from the paper and down onto the woman who sat on the chair before him.

"Isabelle Dubois," he called out, "my ex wife. Welcome back to Gotham, sweetheart."

The court was unsure of how to react as Jonathan stood up and sudden cheers moved through the room. Isabelle gulped loudly, trying not to cry as Jonathan looked at her, taking in her appearance. She wore the same leggings and brown jumper as she did yesterday, flat pumps on her feet and a bobble holding her hair from her pale face.

She looked back up at Jonathan; his face was stern and not showing any sign of emotion as she noted his black suit and his stubbly chin.

"Jonathan," Isabelle whispered his name and he turned away from her for a second, noticing Bane as he appeared to the front of the rows of people.

He could play this to his advantage. He knew he could. Bane owed him for keeping this circus on the road.

"Bane!" he called out his name and the large man looked up at him as Isabelle turned her eyes onto him, shivering at the mere sight of the muscular man. "A word?"

"Now is not the time, Doctor," he informed Crane, gesturing to the people in the court who were waiting. "The good people are waiting for a verdict."

Cheers moved through the people in a wave and Isabelle felt close to tears. It wasn't going to work.

Jonathan knew he was trapped. He knew Bane expected him to make a decision. If he didn't do his job then he would kill him and he would kill Isabelle. He knew how people like him worked.

"Isabelle Dubois," Jonathan said, sitting back down in his chair, his gavel held in his hand as he looked down at his ex wife, her eyes pleadingly looking into his. "You've been brought here due to your apparent misbehaviour in the disruption to Gotham. This is merely a sentencing as your guilt has been decided."

"Jonathan," Isabelle tried to call his name again and he looked away from her, cracking his neck as he did so and he took a deep breath.

"Now is not the time for petty pleas, Miss Dubois," he assured her. "They fall onto death ears. As I have said, your guilt has been decided by the city of Gotham. So, I give you the choice of death or exile."

"Jonathan...please..." she tried again, feeling faint and wondering what the hell she had done as Jonathan looked down at her.

"Death or exile?" he pushed and she didn't answer him after a moment and so he decided for her.

"Exile," he declared and slammed his gavel onto the desk. "Recess!"

The court cheered on as Jonathan moved from his seat and down the stacks of furniture until he came before Bane. His eyes were glittering with amusement as Jonathan looked at him. Isabelle remained in a daze as the gruff man grabbed her elbow and forced her up, dragging her to the door of the court as she watched Jonathan approach Bane.

"You promised that I could have her," he told the man who nodded once, placing his hand onto his shoulder.

"And you can," he said in agreement. "I couldn't have you looking weak in front of all these people just because your ex wife had showed up, could I?"

"So you made me exile her?" Jonathan hissed; anger coursing through his body as Bane motioned to the door on the other side of the room.

"It was necessary," he said simply. "If you want her then you can go and get her."

"What's the catch?" Crane wondered, knowing it wasn't that simple as Bane shook his head at him.

"No catch," he promised him. "I made a deal with you. Recess is ten minutes, isn't it? I would act quickly if I was you."

Bane knew that Jonathan would be content if he had his little ex to play and mess with. He knew he would do as he had asked. If his mind was occupied then Gotham would be Bane's. It was a small price. A deal for domination.

Jonathan watched Bane for a second before glowering as he went and pushed his way through the door. He moved down the corridors, easily finding Isabelle as she was with the other prisoners who he had just exiled. He looked at her through his glasses as her eyes found his and he looked at the men who were keeping her prisoner.

"There's been a mistake," Jonathan barked. "This one is coming with me."

"On whose command?" the gruff one asked.

"Bane's," Jonathan hissed. "Take it up with him if you want to."

Jonathan strode forward, grabbing Isabelle by the arm and forcing her into the corridor, turning her body to face his as she glared at him, her fists hitting at his chest as he looked down at her with wide eyes, another feather falling from the coat which he wore.

"You asshole!" she declared. "You...you...how could you...?"

"How could you leave me?" Jonathan hissed back at her. "I wouldn't have let them exile you, Isabelle." He snapped at her. "Stop hitting me. What do you think you're playing at? Getting yourself caught and thrown in here?"

"I need help," Isabelle told him and he arched a brow down at her. "My mom...she's in pain..."

"And you thought I could get you the drugs which you so require?" he wondered from her and she nodded. "So you thought being brought before me in court was the best idea?"

"I didn't know what else to do!" she snapped at him as people passed them in the corridor and Jonathan pushed her against the wall, his body hiding her face as she felt him shudder slightly. "I panicked...how else was I supposed to get to you...?"

"Not like this," Jonathan growled lowly. "So, you've just come to use me?" he checked with her and she bit down on her bottom lip.

"My mom is dying...Jonathan..." she said, beginning to cry as he looked down at her, resisting the urge to roll his eyes as he sighed once, burying one of his hands into her hair and pushing her head beneath his neck, cradling her against him as her arms remained limp by her side and she allowed him to have control. If being near him meant helping her mother...she was willing.

Jonathan took a moment to inhale the scent of her, his eyes closing as he failed to believe she was back in his arms after eight long years of waiting. He wasn't letting her go. Never again.

...

A/N: How was the for a reunion! Hope the update was quick enough! Let me know what you all think! More tomorrow!