Thank you to all my readers, followers and reviewers. This chapter mentions some facts showed in Batman Begins novelization. I also forget to say that chapter 18 (Prey) mentions some tidbits from TDK novelization - the part when Bruce talks to Alfred about his desire of settle down with Rachel. And don't forget, read and review, please.

XXXVII - The Dawn Is Coming

Through Gotham City Streets

Gordon checked on the metal box one last time before tucking it under his coat. Dawn would be arriving soon, but the sky was still dark for now. He and his men lurked in shadowy doorways, staying as far from the streetlights as humanly possible. The last thing they wanted was to be picked up by Bane's men again. Especially now that they had a chance to save Gotham – and take the city back.

He watched the deserted street, keeping one eye on his tracking device. He nodded at his men.

The truck was coming.

Gotham City Hall, Old Town District, Gotham City

Miranda was was being held captive in a room on the upper floor of the City Hall. As the long night progressed she remained alert and taken by anxiety. After witnessing the flaming symbol of the bat she started to wonder if Batman was really back or that was a strategy undertaken by DJ and his allies.

When that angry mob came up at the stock exchange and violently grabbed her, she thought her end had come and she finally was paying the price for her actions. Although a part of her mind kept saying she got what she deserved, the rest of it had no desire that her life would end there. She wanted to recover the lost time and to be with her son again. To see his face one more time and tell him how much she loved him.

After various hardships she had endured throughout her life she was in hope for a fresh start with him, leaving all her pain, anger and resentment behind. She did not want to end up being a copy of her father.

Her father. The mere thought of him brought tears to her eyes and a burn to her throat.

Many years ago, when they had finally be reunited again, she had thought he was an angel sent from heaven to rescue her from that life of privations and oppression in which no one had really seemed to care about her. When he had appeared at the door of the boarding school and said who he was, she had believed that things finally could be as before. But soon she had proved to be wrong.

He had brought her to the League of Shadows monastery – at the Himalayas – where he had taught her hand to hand combat as well as the use of most conventional weapons, from swords to guns. She also had learned a large variety of disciplines with tutors from all around the world. Her hard exterior was no doubt attributed to the strict and disciplined nature of her upbringing through the League, but deep down she still was just a needy girl eager to be loved.

Although she had became a member of the League, Miranda had often shown to be not as convinced of his father's goals as he had been, which had ended up causing their estrangement. Her compassionate nature had made her father considering her to be inferior to be his successor and, since then, she just had helped him in the management of the financial aspects of the organization.

When Bruce had vanished, she had considered her options and had decided to leave the search for him aside, until fate had decided otherwise. Years later, she had received a letter from her father informing her about his new best student – Bruce Wayne – and summoning her from Switzerland to meet him at the monastery, which she had promptly refused.

Bruce never knew Miranda Tate and Henri Ducard were relatives, and that was how she had wanted things to remain. She pulled away from her mind the image of her father. Despite what had happened between them, he was her father and she had loved him with all heart. His death had left her heartbroken, devastated. Bane had taken advantage of that and had convinced her that they should join together and revenge his death.

Her thoughts were interrupted by footsteps in the hall.

"I was expecting some gratitude," Bane's voice drifted into the room.

Sadly there was very little gratitude in Miranda's expression.

"Should I be thankful you're trying to kill millions of innocent people?" she asked calmly.

"'Innocent' is a strong word to throw around Gotham," he replied.

"We can make a deal. What do you want most? Freedom? Freedom for you and your men in exchange for the detonator. A fresh start? I can get you it. I can get you out of here."

He pondered her words for a few seconds.

"The day I was forced to wear this mask was the beginning of the end. There's no place for a fresh start and there's no way out. Everything is gonna end when that bomb goes off," he assured her.

"You've already proved your point," she said with a hint of desperation in her voice. "People down there are eating each other. Gotham is self-destructing. There is no need to explode the bomb. Please give me the trigger," she added, pleading. "Things doesn't have to be this way."

"You're so naive. You, of all people, should know that fight against us is fighting against all that is right," he said, then turned his back to her and started to leave. Stopping for only a second, he addressed two very armed mercenaries. "Keep her close. He'll come for her."

"W-Wait! Let me go, please!" she shouted and went after him, but was stopped by his men. "I'm not gonna die here!"

"If the lady tries to escape, you know what to do," he advised his henchmen without turning his back. His order was quite simple. The two men nodded in return.

Miranda turned into the room, huffing with rage.

At an alley of the town, Gotham City

A rusty metal dumpster, its paint peeling, stood in a murky alley. Fresh snow covered its lid. Dented trash cans, piled nearby, were overflowing with refuse. Garbage collection had been non-existent during the occupation. Rats scurried amidst the trash, emboldened by the chaos in the city.

The place smelled like a toilet. DJ wrinkled his nose. He was unimpressed – until Batman undid a latch and opened one side of the container, which hit the ground like a ramp. A thick layer of snow muffled the sound.

Hidden inside the rusty metal shell was the coolest-looking motorcycle in the world: the Bat-Pod.

The kid's eyes lit up. Since Batman had come back he was having access to a variety of the nicest tech-toys he could ever imagine. His suit was enhanced with a dark 'para-cape' – which granted him a gliding capability – with a black hood attached to it. The hidden blades were retired. They didn't match with the 'no kill' rule.

"Oh, you shouldn't have…" Without waiting for an invitation, he hopped onto the cycle. He stretched out atop it, feeling its sleek contours beneath his. Eager hands explored the controls.

"The midtown tunnel is blocked by debris," Batman said gruffly. "But the cannons give you enough firepower to make a path for people."

The kid marveled at all the firepower it placed at his command. Machine guns, missile launchers, grappling hooks and cables – what more could a boy want?

"To start it, you..." Before Batman could finish, DJ hit the throttle, firing up the engines inside the wheels. The Bat-Pod growled beneath him. He liked the feeling.

"I got it," the teenager said.

He took his word for it.

"Then you need to get the people you care about across the Gotham Bridge."

DJ wanted to fight, not herd civilians.

"Why?" he asked.

"In case we fail," Batman said, speaking the unthinkable. "Lead an exodus across the bridge. Save as many lives as you can."

He understood the reasoning, but he didn't like it.

"Don't you need me in the battle field?"

Batman was a little startled by the question. His dark eyes studied DJ from behind his mask. His son. It felt so right to think of him as his son. He wished he had meet Damian when the boy was younger, when his life had begun. He wished he could have more time to know him.

"No. You have to go away and help as much people as you can..." but DJ cut him off again.

"But those hirelings killed Colin with no mercy and they're keeping my mo..." he stopped himself in time and then continued to speak in an exasperated tone, with a defiant look, "Miss Tate captive. Can you not understand that?"

Batman noticed DJ had been on the point of calling Miranda as his mother and he was concerned about her. So he knows about her. And about me? He stared at the stubborn teen.

"More than you ever will... Stick to your task, let me do the rest," he ordered steadily. "No buts. You're going to do exactly what I said."

"And why is that?" DJ protested impatiently.

"Because you're my son," he spat, letting out a defeated sigh. "I won't have you taking that risk," he added, serene. He looked at the wide-eyed boy, who glanced at him with curiosity. He could easily guess the not formulated questions, but did not wish to be obliged to answer any of them.

"How do you...? DJ asked hesitantly.

"The jewelry. From there, I deduced the rest," Batman told him dryly. He did not want to extend that conversation right now. If they were able to survive, there would be plenty of time to talk.

Put two and two together and make a million, DJ thought.

He seemed finally to understand the urgency of the situation and Batman – his father – was just trying to protect him.

"Now go," the masked man said. "We've got just about a hour to save this city."

Giving up on DJ at last, he turned and vanished into the night. The young man gazed after him for a moment, then settled back down onto the Bat-Pod.

His shoulders nestled into the steering shields. He gunned the engines.

The Bat-Pod sped out of the alley and onto the city streets and he raced across town. The icy wind rushing past his face, and the speed and power with which the cycle handled, did little to soothe his turbulent thoughts.

Zooming through the icy avenues at breakneck speed, he reached the midtown tunnel in no time at all. Dozens of junked cars, including taxis, ambulances, and police cruisers, were piled in the entrance, blocking his way. The cars were heaped on top of one another, at least four layers high and who knew how deep. The barricade looked like an auto junkyard.

No way was anyone getting past it, unless…

Where exactly were those cannons again?