Isabelle awoke early the next morning, laying still and looking around the room which had emptied of the small number of officers who weren't stuck underground. She remained still, her hand resting against her forehead as she blinked quickly and slowly pushed herself onto her elbows, wondering where John was as she felt his jacket fall from her shoulders.

She stood up, wandering around whilst making sure she didn't step on any of the sleeping bags as she looked for the bathroom, hoping there would be a wash basin in there, at the least. She managed to find one, splashing cold water onto her face and looking down at the clothes which she wore. Showers were becoming a rare thing in Gotham and a change of clothes was becoming increasingly hard to come by. It was a miracle she didn't smell worse that she felt. She looked at her hair, pushing it back into her trusted, simple black bobble before nodding once and moving from the bathroom.

"I was just coming to see where you'd gotten to," John suddenly spoke, leaning against the wall with his arms folded as he turned his head to the side to glance at Isabelle. She jumped back, her hand moving instinctively to her chest as she swore under her breath.

"Are you trying to give me a heart attack?" she asked him and the all too familiar grin came onto his face as the bathroom door slammed shut and he shook his head.

"No," he said. "The others have gone for the morning. They're trailing Bane's trucks to see which one has the bomb."

"Shouldn't you be with them?" Isabelle asked him, her brow raised and he shrugged gently.

"Someone has to make sure your psycho of an ex doesn't find you," he spoke, his voice full of attempted nonchalance and Isabelle bit down on her bottom lip, following John through the slim hallway of the abandoned restaurant until they reached the small little step on the outside world. They were hidden from view, kept back from the main street.

"You do know that if he finds you then he-"

"-Yeah," John said, interrupting her before she could tell him what her mentally ill ex husband would do to him. He knew the risk. He knew was a small fish in the big pond which Bane had created. "I'll get the death or exile choice. I get it."

"And you risked that," she whispered to him, standing back slightly as John kept looking around as the snow fell onto the streets, his eyes always peeled as Isabelle remained watching him. He'd taken back the jacket which he had leant her and he wore a new pair of trousers along with a new black top. "You risked your life."

"I must be crazy, huh?" he checked with her, a small grin moving from his lips as he turned to look down at her, wondering why she was staring at him like he was crazily insane.

"Didn't you know that I was safe with Jonathan?" she asked him, her voice low and soft as John sighed once, his arms folding across his waist as he raised a brow at her. "He wouldn't hurt me."

"Not physically," John shrugged. "Emotionally...I think he's hurt you more than you care to let on."

"Maybe," she admitted, a rueful shrug moving through her shoulders. "He's going to be angry."

"I deduced that," John promised her. "He won't find us. We don't need to worry."

"What if he does, John?" Isabelle did the opposite to what he had told her to do as her bottom lip quivered from the cold and the fear. "What if he finds you? Do you think that I can live with myself if he kills you?"

"I expect you to," John nodded at her, his hands help up in surrender as she shook her head sternly at him. "Hey, it was my choice to come and find you; wasn't it?"

"I can't help but think that it was a stupid choice on your behalf," Isabelle snorted once, looking as the snow fell onto the empty street.

"My behalf?" he asked her. "Funnily enough, I wasn't thinking about me when I went on a suicide mission to City Hall for you."

"John," Isabelle complained, sensing the heat coming out from his voice as he looked at her with his large orbs. "I...it's over...but...me staying with you isn't a wise idea..."

"Says who?"

"Me," Isabelle snapped back. "Logic. It's obvious that Jonathan is going to be so annoyed when he realises what has happened. He'll come looking for me and then he'll find you...look...I never sold our old apartment...I could hide there."

"By that time it may be too late," John whispered. "You're not going anywhere on your own."

"Why not?" Isabelle wondered. "There's just over three months until that bomb goes off. At the moment...you're a police officer and needed here, John. Jonathan told me all about how you can't get off of the island. I'm not letting you risk your life a second time by trying to help me..."

"I didn't want to tell you," John whispered, pushing hand through his hair. "I didn't want to kill your hope."

"What?" Isabelle wondered, pushing him for an answer.

"I hate to say that your husband was right," he scowled down to the floor. "There's no way off the island. They're keeping us trapped on here. If anyone gets across then the bomb goes off. If anyone tries then they blow the bridge up."

Isabelle took a second to take in what he had just said to her as he took hold of her hand into his, feeling her cold fingers around his warm ones as he stepped forward, heat radiating between them.

"I...I can't get you out of Gotham. I know I said I would try...yesterday...outside the Hall...but it seemed like it was the only way to get you to come with me...I just wanted you to leave him..."

"So...there's nothing?" Isabelle checked and he nodded at her.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I wish I could get you away from here."

"Why?" Isabelle wondered from him and he remained silent, pushing his lips together as he bit down on his tongue. He couldn't tell her. "John...I've been naive and foolish, but, I'm not stupid," she said and he looked back down at her as she pressed her hand onto his cheek, slowly running it down his neck. She knew. He should have known that she knew. He hadn't exactly hid it that well.

"I'm falling for you," he admitted for the first time to her and to himself, his breath smelling of strong coffee against Isabelle as she searched his eyes with her own. "And the worst part about it is that I know...I know I can't give you what you want...and I know you're not over him, as much as I wish you were."

She remained quiet, leaning forward as John's free arm wrapped around her waist, bringing her closer until he could quickly press his lips against hers.

...

"Death or exile?" Jonathan snapped, sitting behind the stack of furniture which represented his desk and he looked away from the rich socialite who was sat in the plush chair before him and the man quivered, his body convulsing in fear as Jonathan looked around, noting the people in the court as they jeered with annoyance of waiting.

"Do you need me to choose for you?" Jonathan hissed, his voice echoing around the room and he sighed once, rolling his eyes. "Exile it is!"

He sat back, looking at the paper to see who was up next and for what crime, his teeth gritting together as he flapped his arms onto the side of the chair which he had. He grabbed onto the glass of water and drained it, thinking about what happened the previous night. If Bane didn't have him trapped here then he would be roaming the streets, looking for Isabelle. He hadn't seen who had attacked him, but, he had a good idea. Officer Blake was his name.

He'd find them. It was all a matter of time and patience.

...

Isabelle looked down at John as he slept in his sleeping bag. His sleeping pattern was messed up. It was five in the afternoon and he was exhausted, needing time to rest and recuperate. Isabelle continued to watch him as he slept, kneeling by his side, her hand holding onto his. He thought she was asleep too, but, she couldn't slumber. Not when she knew what she had to do.

Anyone who was close to her had been hurt. Her mother had died and her father had been lost. She knew that if Jonathan got his hands onto Blake then he'd be next. He'd suffer for even thinking that he could help Isabelle and take her from him.

She knew his possessive streak. Yes, they had four months until that bomb detonated. But, it was four months longer that John could live to try and stop it with the other officers. She had to think of the other scared people in Gotham. It was four more months of hope. Isabelle had enough blood on her hands.

She looked down as he slept, slowly taking her hand from his and gently kissing him on the cheek. He never stirred once as she felt hot tears in her eyes and she knew she had to leave him before she became too attached.

...

Getting back to Jonathan was considerably easy in comparison to the first time. She walked into the City Hall, being stopped and asked why she was there. The security was tight, she didn't expect anything else. She whispered to the men as they circled around her, telling them that she was there for Jonathan. They didn't really believe that she was there for him, wondering what she wanted with the Judge. And then she had seen him as he exited the makeshift courtroom, his glasses sitting proudly on his eyes as he pulled at his tie.

"Jonathan!" she yelled his name, trying to push past the men as he noted her stood there, glancing in his direction as he grinned and walked up to her. She'd come running back. He still had his effect on her.

"Is there a problem, gentlemen?" Jonathan asked them, protectively placing his hand onto her arm and she remained silent, knowing there was no use in trying to fight him.

"She said that she wanted to see you," one spoke up, sneering as he did so.

"And what were you doing?" Jonathan enquired. "You should have come to me straight away."

"We didn't know that you were expecting visitors." He responded and Jonathan glared at them.

"A brain is required for you to know something," Jonathan snapped back at them. "I suggest you stop trying to think."

Jonathan steered Isabelle away from them, his hand dangerously tight as he dragged her up the steps towards the office section.

"You came back, did you?" he checked with her, his voice quiet as he whispered in her ear and she looked to the floor, focusing on where she was walking as Jonathan continued to grin to himself. "I knew you couldn't resist coming back to me."

"You think I came back for you?" Isabelle checked with him, the snap escaping her lips. "You honestly think that I can't bear to be apart from you?"

"What else could it be?" he wondered, his glasses slipping down his nose whilst he found the key to the office, unlocking the door and making Isabelle walk in before he closed it, locking it again and removing the jacket from his shoulders.

"I did this...because...he said there was no way off of the island...we're trapped in Gotham..." Isabelle said, feeling something heavy sinking inside of her.

"Who is he?" Jonathan asked and then shook his head, feeling stupid for asking such a question. "Of course, John Blake, isn't it?"

"Just leave it," Isabelle pleaded with him, sinking onto the floor as Jonathan remained stood up; his head shaking back and forth as he did so.

"No," he snapped. "Why did he do it, Isabelle? Why did he take you from me? Did he think he was rescuing you from your evil, ex husband?"

"Shut up!" Isabelle snapped back at Jonathan.

"Did he think that he could be the knight in shining armour?"

"What if he did?" Isabelle hissed back, moving her hands from her cheeks and she glared at him and he removed his glasses, placing them in his pocket. "What if he thought he was helping me? Maybe he was!"

"So why did you come back?" Jonathan enquired.

"Because I know you!" Isabelle yelled. "I knew you wouldn't just let me leave! I knew you'd never let me be! And then...if you found him then you'd have dragged him into your ridiculous court! You'd have ruined him!"

Jonathan took a moment to take in what she had just told him, the cogs turning in his masterful brain as she remained silent, trying not to cry again as he leant against the wall, folding his arms as his stubborn chin jutted out.

"You came back to me to protect him?" he checked with her, not sure how he felt about this revelation.

"Yes," she whispered. "He's a good man. He was looking out for me."

"And now you're doing the same for him?"

"I can't escape anyway," Isabelle whispered. "I'm trapped here. Please, just leave John alone."

"Do you love him?"

The question hung in the air between them whilst Isabelle and Jonathan remained looking at each other, their silence speaking volumes as well as their stares.

"No," she admitted to Jonathan. She cared for him. She cared for him deeply. Maybe she was falling for him. She didn't know. The only love she'd had was with Jonathan and that had been twisted. She didn't know what it felt like to be loved normally. Normalcy was not something her life had ever contained.

"But, that's the problem," Isabelle told Jonathan slowly. "I don't think I've ever loved after you...I don't know how to..."

"You're slowly falling for him, aren't you?" Jonathan checked with her, his breathing shallow as he failed to believe what he was hearing. She looked away from him, beginning to cry gently as Jonathan shook his head, burying his hand onto his temple as he heard her sigh.

"I don't know," Isabelle admitted. "He's everything which I should want...he's everything which any girl would be lucky to have...and he cares for me..."

"How touching," Jonathan said, sarcasm radiating from his voice as he said it. She remained silent, not expecting him to understand. He was too complicated for the concept of love. Love was supposed to be simple and that was something which Jonathan was not.

"Say what you like," Isabelle hissed. "It doesn't matter to me anymore."

"And why is that?"

"You've got me back," Isabelle informed him, her arms flapping by her side. "Isn't that why you have always wanted?"

"It was," Jonathan agreed with her, his voice turning soft as he pushed his hair behind his ears, feeling his stomach churn at the sight of her and what he had just heard from her. "But...you wanted me...back then...you still wanted me."

"Back then we was married and happy," she reminded him. "Back then I loved you."

"And now?"

"I don't know," she admitted. "Being with you...just...alone...us two...I forget what has happened. Nothing is normal in life, Jonathan."

She took a moment to think, watching as Jonathan looked up to the ceiling.

"What does it matter? You have me back. Just promise me that you will leave John alone."

"Is that what you want me to do?"

"Yes."

"Then I will do it," Jonathan said as if it was simple and she managed a small smile up at him.

"Thank you," she said, her voice compassionate as Jonathan shrugged once.

"I'm not a complete monster, Isabelle," he assured her. "I don't want to hurt you...besides...he won't be bothering us, will he?"

...

"We need to go," Jonathan snapped at Isabelle as he rushed forwards, holding his hand out to her as she emerged from the bathroom where she had been brushing her teeth and washing her face. She looked at him with confusion, wondering what he was talking about as he held his hand out to her and she heard gunshots move through the corridors.

"What's going on?"

"City Hall is under attack," he said, entwining her fingers into his before he dragged her down the corridor towards the fire escape, looking around quickly to make sure he wasn't being followed as Isabelle bumped into him when he abruptly stopped at the end of the hall, she held onto his arm, not letting go of his hand as he moved again. "Bane's men are trying to fight off some other forces. They arrested Jim Gordon earlier...I sent him to exile and then this happened."

Jonathan complained to her before he pushed the fire escape door open, stepping onto the metal mesh steps before rushing down, Isabelle close by his side as he looked around the snow covered street, wondering which the best way to go was.

"Gordon?" she checked with him and he nodded at her, cautiously looking down into her eyes.

"He'll have escaped by now," he shrugged. "I have no doubt of that. We need to find somewhere to hide...for the time being..."

"I know," Isabelle said hastily and Jonathan shook his head at her.

"Trust me," she pleaded with him. She knew it would be a big step for Jonathan to do that. He liked control. He always had done. But, this wasn't his city.

Isabelle saw him manage a stiff nod before she dragged him through the streets, the pair of them managing to hide as they approached the edge of Gotham after a long walk. Jonathan looked up to the building and then back at Isabelle.

"I never sold up," she whispered to him. "I paid for a cleaner every week...I couldn't sell it."

His old apartment. The place where she had moved in once they had married. She'd kept it. Jonathan felt his hand grip onto hers tighter as they moved into the building, walking up the stairs and noting all of the doors were shut, furniture tossed around on the steps along with clothes and belongings. She stopped in front of their apartment and Jonathan bent down, checking the lock which had been broken. One swift shoulder barge managed to push the door open as he stumbled in.

Isabelle shut the door, looking around the trashed apartment. Things had been thrown about and furniture was moved. Dust was beginning to settle in large lumps as Jonathan ran his finger over the coffee table.

"Why did you keep it?" he whispered.

"I don't know," Isabelle admitted.

"It hasn't changed a bit," he admitted to her and she shrugged, walking around and looking into the bedroom before she felt Jonathan wrap his arms around her waist, his chin resting on her shoulder as she placed her hands on top of his.

"No," she shook her head in agreement. "It's just like the past."

"I wish it was," Jonathan admitted.

"Well...you were insane back then...Jonathan...there was two of you."

"The voice...it is still there...when it wants to be..." he whispered into her ear, his mouth gently resting beneath it as he kissed her. "But...I know what I want."

"I don't know what I want," Isabelle replied to him as his hands moved down her body and she turned around in his hold.

"Just for tonight," he pleaded with her, pushing a strand of blonde hair behind her ear and allowing his hand to cup the back of her head. "Just this once," he whispered, bending down to her as his lips softly touched hers and she knew it was too late.

...

Jonathan watched as she slept, listening to her soft breathing as her naked body remained under the covers he had found. The mattress had been tipped to the floor along with their bedside tables and drawers. He propped himself up, his elbow bent and his head resting on his hand as he watched her, remembering how she had moaned his name, given herself to him. The peacefulness on her face was something which Jonathan had never appreciated. He doubted he really appreciated her ever.

She had taken some coaxing, but, he'd finally managed to get her to give into him. It had been eight years since Jonathan had been intimate with anyone, let alone his ex wife.

His eyes pricked up as he heard a sudden noise and the slamming of a door. Footsteps made their way in the room and Jonathan quickly sat up, the cover pooling around his waist as he began to search for his clothes.

The door slowly pushed open, a gun being the first thing seen in the room, followed by a tall man holding onto it. His eyes widened in horror at the sight which he found and Jonathan found his glasses, placing them on so he could see better in the small room. The only light source was a lamp which Jonathan had managed to plug in to the wall.

"Can we help you?" Jonathan enquired, knowing full well who the man was as Isabelle stirred by Jonathan's side, turning over in her sleep, wishing the voice would shut up.

"No," the man muttered, his eyes still fixed on Isabelle as she slept soundly. "You can't help me...but I can help her."

"I don't really know what you mean, Officer," Jonathan admitted. "You are Officer Blake, are you not?"

"What did you do to her?" Blake snapped and Jonathan looked at Isabelle and he shook his head, shrugging into his shirt as he remained on the mattress.

"I did nothing that she didn't want me to, don't worry," Jonathan promised as Isabelle's eyes finally fluttered open and she looked up at him as he sat up. "She can tell you herself."

"What?" her hoarse voice asked and she looked around the room, pulling the cover up to under her arms as she looked in the doorway where he was stood. What had she done?

"John," she said quickly to him and he motioned between her and her husband. "This isn't...he...please..."

"You should have just said that you didn't want my help," he said, a smirk of disbelief on his face. "You look pretty happy with him."

"No," Isabelle denied. "You don't understand."

"No," he admitted. "I don't...you know what, Isabelle? I thought that maybe you were damaged...maybe you had some baggage...but he's got his claws so deep in you that you can't escape. He's got you right where he wants you."

"You're in no position to make comments like that," Jonathan replied, calmly buttoning his shirt up as Isabelle shook her head, crying softly as she watched John's hurt face.

"And the weird part is...I don't know if you want to escape...I don't know if you're as crazy as he is," John informed her and she continued to shake her head, unable to do anything but deny it.

"Enjoy your last days together," he hissed. "I came here to help you. Looks like I had a wasted journey."

...

A/N: Quite a long chapter there for you! Well, I don't want to admit that there are only a few chapters left in this story as we draw to the conclusion between Jonathan and Isabelle. I thank you to bitemyt0ngue, mahxie, Undertaker's Hattress, Sam0728, Mingn and LivinJgrl123 for reviewing.

I may have another chapter out this evening, so until then, let me know what you think as we draw to an end!