I don't own Batman Begins, The Dark Knight, The Dark Knight Rises, or any of the characters or plots found within the movies. Eleanor Black, her family and backstory, and all the plot points that are not from the movie are mine. The fic is rated for language and violence. It is a rewrite and reorganization of my two previous Nolan-verse fics "Superhero's Confidante" and "Chances Are." It will go through all three movies in the trilogy and feature time from before and after as well.


In the Shadow of the Bat
A Far Better Rest


"Ellie."

Bruce's voice filtered through whatever was blocking my ears and I could tell by his tone, muffled as it was, that it wasn't the first time he'd called my name. I forced my eyes open and found the world blurry, weak sunlight pushing through the clouds and Bruce sitting beside me, the cowl gone and a small smile on his face. He looked odd without the pointed ears adorning his head. I blinked a few times, my vision clearing and the cotton falling from my ears, so to speak. Though it was replaced immediately by a shrill ringing. But I could hear the water slapping against the docks, the seagulls cawing. So the bomb hadn't blown out my eardrums. Just damaged them slightly.

I was alive though, so it didn't matter. Alive and lying on a concrete dock on the edge of the city. I made a noise somewhere between a cough and a laugh and thanked whoever was listening that Bruce and I had lived. That Gotham was still standing.

"Ellie."

I gave my head a little shake and lifted a hand to Bruce, who took it and helped me slowly rise into a sitting position. I shifted so I could wrap my arms around Bruce's shoulders, and press my face to his neck. He returned the embrace, gloved hands sliding along my back. Real laughter bubbled in my gut and spilled over my lips, my fingers hooking around the plates of the Batsuit as Bruce began to chuckle as well, his hands pressing into my back, a warm and welcome weight that held me upright, held me to him. We'd survived. We'd jumped out of a plane, a bomb had gone off, and we survived. Gotham had survived and Bane was… well, I didn't much care what Bane was in that moment. I laughed so hard I snorted, which only made me and Bruce laugh harder.

I pushed back from Bruce as it passed, so I could look him in the eye. "You are insane," I said, my mouth still curved in a smile. "And I can't believe that worked. We jumped out of a fucking plane and we're okay. You are crazy."

"You came with me."

I punched him gently in the chest before grabbing his face, a hand on either cheek, and kissing him. "Of course I came with you. I never said I wasn't crazy too." I kissed him again and wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him to me. He deepened the kiss, our motions fueled by adrenaline and hunger for each other—it had been six months after all—and elation. "I must be, since I stuck around for so long," I said when we broke for air.

A strange look crossed Bruce's face. We hadn't talked about those years a whole lot. "Insane," he finally said, some of the joy gone from his voice.

I punched his chest again and narrowed my eyes at him for turning the moment serious. He rolled his eyes in response. "If the rest of your plan is going to work, we should get out of here."

Bruce nodded and got to his feet, pulling me up after him, a wry smile on his face. We stood there for a moment, just looking at each other, the sense of urgency that had driven us since the sun had risen that morning gone, replaced by a sense of… calm. Which, believe me, was something I never thought I'd be attributing to Bruce Wayne. I leaned into him a bit and gave him a small, warm smile, before I turned and started walking along the dock, headed for land and whatever safe house Bruce had set up in this area of the city. Bruce's footsteps were heavy as mine as he followed. I didn't know where we were going, but Bruce seemed content to let me lead the way anyways.

I could hear helicopters and planes circling the islands of Gotham as we walked, and shouts and cheers from the liberated civilians as the news of what had happened spread, as the rest of Bane's men were rounded up and the city liberated in truth. I found myself unable to rid my lips of my smile, and though my body was bruised and aching and my ears were will ringing, I was happy.

I wondered what Blake was doing, and Selina, and Gordon. I wondered what had been done with Bane's body or with Bane, if he was still alive. With Miranda—Talia's—body. There were so many questions Bruce and I weren't going to get answers to, at least not right away, but getting out of the city was more important. There would be ways to get information later. When we were safe and allowed to be ourselves again, without the added burden of our masked selves.

I huffed and summoned up what I could of the happiness I'd been feeling a few minutes before. Tried to keep the questions and doubt from my mind.

"This way," Bruce said at that moment, drawing me out of my head.

I turned and followed him through a maze of alleyways, the metal-sided buildings of the docks shifting to the brick and mortar of the old city; we'd been walking for long enough that the water wasn't immediately visible anymore. There were a few people wandering these streets, probably intent on heading back to their houses or finding their families and friends now that the city was safe, so we moved slower and quieter than before—the plan wouldn't work if someone spotted us before we could leave Gotham. We didn't have to be sneaky for long though, as Bruce turned down one more alley and then stopped in front of a slightly warped door covered with peeling red-brown paint. After a few seconds, he had it unlocked and we stepped inside.

"Hold on." Bruce turned on an overhead light once he'd shut and locked the door, revealing a rickety set of wooden stairs leading down to a heavy metal door. "Okay. Be careful on the stairs."

I started down, keeping one hand on the wall for balance since there was no railing. "Geez, you couldn't have made it easy, could you?"

"I couldn't risk—"

"Anyone finding it by accident, or being curious enough to investigate—I know, I know." I tossed a smile over my shoulder. "You are deluding yourself if you ever think I'm going to stop giving you a hard time."

Bruce rolled his eyes again, but he was smiling.

At the bottom of the steps, Bruce reached around me to unlock the second door. I pushed it open—not without some effort; it was pretty heavy—and the lights flickered on as I did, illuminating what my brain could only describe as a mini-bunker. The room wasn't entirely concrete like the main bunker further into the city, but most of it was. The massive desk against one wall and a shelving unit against another were both made of wood and stocked to high heaven with computers and supplies, and the cots set up next to each other were covered in an excessive amount of blankets and pillows. There was a small TV on the edge of the desk and bags of what I assumed were clothes for me and Bruce in the corner. My favourite part though, was the arm chair sitting beside the desk, which I knew was put there for me, so I'd be comfortable in front of the computers if relocation had become necessary.

I dropped down into said chair and smiled up at Bruce. "So, what's the plan? We get some sleep and then sneak off to Europe under cover of darkness?"

Bruce tossed the cowl onto the desk and did the same with his gloves as he removed them. The cape swirled around my legs as he stood in front of me; his hands slid along my arms as he leaned down. "Sounds about right," he whispered, bracing himself on the arms of the chair, face close to mine.

He cut my laughter off with a kiss and I hooked my fingers under the front of the Batsuit, pulling him closer. We had lots of time now, time to make up for six months apart, and to learn and relearn each other's scars.

And I planned to take advantage of that time.


The list of known casualties started coming that evening. It wasn't a long list, not yet, but Bruce's name was on it; it figured they would look for Gotham's elite, even those who were technically no longer rich, first. There were no other familiar names on the list though, thank God.

Bruce and I lay on the floor in the pile of blankets we'd gathered about ourselves and watched the evening news on the small TV, which we'd moved to the floor. We listened as the reporter read the list, as she recounted what was known about the tragedies that befell Gotham during the No Man's Land. It was an odd sensation to listen to the events I'd lived through, described by someone from outside the city, though I was impressed with how much information the press had—the survivors had been busy, talking to the press, to any media outlet who would listen. On one hand, that was good. People needed to know what had happened. But on the other hand… it felt like some sort of violation.

I laced my fingers through Bruce's and held our hands against my stomach under the blanket and closed my eyes. I didn't want to think about it anymore right then. I'd survived—we'd survived—but now, in the wake of the adrenaline, I just felt tired. Exhausted. I knew it had happened, but it felt like some horrid nightmare, especially lying there in Bruce's arms. I felt warm and safe, neither of which I'd felt in six months, and I didn't want that illusion to shatter.

But as soon as that thought crossed my mind, the questions slipped in again. Just like always. I still didn't have answers to any of the things I'd been wondering about regarding Talia, Bane, mine and Bruce's future—any of it. And I still didn't know what had happened to Bruce in the six months he'd been gone.

I shifted onto my back so I could look Bruce in the eye, letting go of his hand as I moved. He slid his hand over my stomach, fingers splaying over my skin, his brows knitting together with concern; he knew what I was about to ask. "Where did Bane take you six months ago?" I asked quietly. "What happened?"

Bruce exhaled slowly and went still, all except for his fingers, which flexed gently on my stomach. I thought he wasn't going to answer, but after a moment he met my eyes again, his face carefully blank. "Do you remember that prison Alfred told me about when this all started?" I nodded and then realization sunk in, my eyes widening slightly. "I woke up there, in incredible pain. I was in a cell at the bottom, looking up at the only exit—a circle of light, like a well, hundreds of feet up." He paused.

"If this isn't a good time…"

Bruce shook his head. "You have a right to know, and I should tell someone. Besides, I promised I'd fill you in."

I nodded and shuffled a little closer, until there was no space between us, our bodies touching along their lengths. I reached under the blanket and took his hand again, squeezing gently. A small smile of recognition for my efforts at making him feel more comfortable was the only sign Bruce knew what I was doing.

"Bane planned on leaving me there, suffering, to watch as he destroyed Gotham. Torture me—my soul—before he let me die. My back… he broke my back in that fight in the tunnels, and I couldn't move—"

I pushed myself up onto my elbows. "What? You had a broken back and didn't think that was worth mentioning?!"

"The man who was keeping me alive helped pop the vertebra back into place," Bruce said in an attempt to mollify my outburst and the resulting glare. "And I'm all right now Ellie. We're both alive."

"I will never believe me when you tell me you're okay again," I snapped.

"Do you want to know what happened or not?"

I huffed. "Fine. Are there any other surprises coming? Cracked skulls? Collapsed lungs? Shattered pelvises?"

"Shattered pelvises?"

"It could happen. You have been known to jump off of buildings before."

"No. No more surprises."

"Continue then."

An indignant look passed between us—just like usual—before Bruce spoke again. "The man propped me up in a sling, hanging until my back strengthened enough so I could stand. There were no painkillers or other medications, just the television Bane had ordered turned on when there was a report about Gotham to distract me… that and my pain." He paused again and sucked in a breath with the memory. I squeezed his hand, the slight anger between us fading. "I hallucinated as I hung there—I thought I was going mad from the pain. Maybe I was. I saw R'as al Ghul, Alfred, my parents… you." I reached up and cupped Bruce's cheek, running my thumb along his skin. One corner of Bruce's mouth lifted, the small expression reaching his eyes. "After lecturing me about getting myself beat to hell and leaving you at the mansion, you told me to get off my ass and get back to Gotham," he said, amusement plain in his voice.

I nodded thoughtfully. "That sounds like me."

Bruce turned his head and kissed my palm, sliding one hand along my shoulder and down my side before his lips found mine. We sunk into the kiss as it became something more than a casual expression. "You've been kicking me in the ass for years, Ellie," he whispered when we parted. "I'd still be stuck in that mansion, sulking about my failures, if you hadn't been there, if you hadn't stayed with me." His fingers were light on my face, tracing the line of the small smile on my lips. "I don't think I deserve you."

"Yes you would and no, you don't." My hand slid down to his chest as I kissed him again. "But I'm here anyways and I'm not going anywhere." I kissed him one more time and offered him a reassuring smile. "So how did you get out of the prison?"

"Climbed."

"I'm guessing there weren't any stairs."

"No. The only other person to try to climb out of that hole and survive was Talia, when she was a kid. Most lost their nerve or fell partway up. I barely made it and almost killed myself trying. Talia was harder than I am. She was born and grew up in that prison, and Bane was her only protector after her mother was killed."

"And Miranda—Talia—was the daughter of R'as al Ghul, right?" Bruce nodded and I said, "Then it's no wonder she was so screwed up."

I got a small laugh for that, one that sounded more exasperated than anything. "She was seeking revenge for her father by killing the man who killed him, however inadvertently, and by finishing the work he didn't get to. She wanted to destroy Gotham in his memory." Bruce shifted around under the blankets and hooked his arm under my neck, so he could lie down beside me and I could pillow my head on his bicep. I turned my face into his shoulder, my eyes closing of their own accord even though I wasn't tired. "Her bid for the energy project was a way to get close and learn what she could about the reactor core so she could control any number of situations, like she tried to do when she engaged the emergency flood."

"It was a good plan. Maybe even brilliant, what with all the faking the deaths of scientists and breaking into Wayne Enterprises from the tunnels and whatnot. Evil. But brilliant."

"That pretty much sums up the League of Shadows."

I laughed into Bruce's shoulder and then rolled onto my back and smiled up at him. He pulled me back to him, wrapping his arms around me in a hug and for a few minutes, we just lay there and forgot everything else. When we finally did come back to the world, Bruce looked at me somewhat sadly.

"We need to get ready. It's almost dark."

I nodded and Bruce and I slowly got to our feet, untangling ourselves from each other and the blankets. I wrapped one of the lighter blankets around my naked self to ward off the chill of the basement bunker and set about gathering my things.


Bruce and I had flown into Paris in the back of a cargo plane similar to the one we used to extract Lao from Hong Kong, only completely legitimate and stuffed to the ceiling with crates. Which made for a really comfortable flight. I'd called my parents and Sarah on the way, informing them through their yelling and questions that yes, I was fine, no, I hadn't died in Gotham and no, I wasn't actually missing, and no, they couldn't tell anyone I was alive. It took some convincing and heavy promises of answers to get the three of them to agree, but eventually my secrecy was secured along with Bruce's.

I'd wanted to call Gordon, Lucius, and Blake, to let them know we were okay, but I couldn't. Not until Bruce and I had established strong enough alibis all over Europe. I'd wanted to call Alfred as well, and Bruce almost agreed, but eventually had asked me to wait to call the butler as well, and I'd reluctantly agreed.

The urgency of the calls I'd wanted to make disappeared in the bliss and peace of Paris. It was easy to forget the world had still spun on while the No Man's Land raged on, and all the food, the people, the happiness around me was like sensory overload. It was glorious and I gave myself over to it, let it carry me through the French countryside. It didn't take much longer than a week off, of doing nothing but indulging, for Bruce and me to start sparring again, though we didn't go at it with quite the same gusto we used to.

We kept up on the news from home, reading extended and revised casualty lists, stories about the cost of the destruction Bane had caused and the plans for repairs, stories told by the survivors—anything and everything. Bruce may have given up his cape and cowl but he wanted to keep his finger on the pulse of Gotham, of his home. I felt the same. We read about the quiet funeral for Bruce Wayne, the difficulties in sorting out his estate, and again, I wanted to call Alfred and Lucius, Gordon and Blake, but I didn't. I couldn't very well call any of them at that point because they'd all known I was in the city during the whole mess. They would wonder where I was, why I hadn't been at the funeral, how I'd gotten out of Gotham. Too many questions. But it hurt to not be able to speak to them, to know what I was keeping from them. But I'd agreed to this plan. I'd agreed to play dead.

That didn't mean I hadn't spent a few days mad at Bruce. As we started towards the Swiss border, the anger and frustration abated, and it was when we were in Lyon that I found the bliss again.


Two weeks after leaving Gotham, in Lyon, France.

"You're in the paper."

"Excuse me?"

I looked up from my book and accepted the American newspaper Bruce was holding out towards me across the table. I knew before I'd even unfolded it that the front page was more news about Gotham—it had been pretty steady since we'd left and had even leaked into international papers. Usually, it was about the expanding casualty list, or reporting the damage Bane had done to the city and the plans to rebuild it. There had been a story about the survivors, one Gordon contributed heavily to. Another paper had had a picture of surviving members of the Wayne Enterprises board, including Lucius. But the paper Bruce handed me held different news.

Well, it would have to be different, to include something about me.

I set my book down on the café table, shoving my half-eaten muffin and cup of tea out of the way, and unfolded the paper, a slight breeze ruffling the edges as I did. I didn't bother to read the headline. I didn't have to. The majority of the page was consumed by a full-colour photo, split in two. One half of the photo showed a beautifully carved, larger-than-life statue of Batman, head bowed and cape draping majestically over his shoulders, down to the floor, where it pooled. It was positioned in the centre of one of the outdoor plazas downtown. The statue looked as if it could come alive at any moment and take the rooftops again.

The other half of the photo… it showed a statue as well, but one of me.

Well, okay, it wasn't exactly of me. I'd done my best to make sure I didn't linger anywhere too long, at sticking to the shadows. No one, except Blake, Lucius, and Gordon and maybe some of the other cops, really knew what I looked like, and no one except Blake, Lucius, and Gordon knew who I was. The face of the statue was fairly generic, the mask around the eyes more prominent than anything, but the clothes were pretty accurate, and much more militant-looking than Batman's cape and cowl. I didn't look like a creature out of some twisted myth, and I didn't look like any creature of the night. I looked like some sort of… well, a vigilante. There was no other word for it.

I looked back up at Bruce, my face split in a wide grin. "They built a statue of me."

"Gordon knows what you did. He wouldn't have let that go undocumented." He gestured back towards the paper, his dark eyes shining like they did when he knew something I didn't. "Read the caption for the image."

"'These statues were made to honour the heroes who risked and ultimately gave their lives to save our city. Batman, and the unknown masked woman, who some have taken to calling Shadow, died when the bomb they carried out over the bay, away from the city, exploded.'" Surprised and shocked laughter escaped my lips; one of my hands flew up to cover my mouth, and I found Bruce's eyes again. "They built a statue for me," I breathed. "They gave me a name."

"You did extraordinary things, Ellie."

I set the paper down on the table, pinning it in place with my book, and settled back in the cast iron chair, a smile on my face, and gazed out across the river, letting the news sink in. I hadn't done any of it for recognition. I'd done it because it was right, because no one should have been left to terrorize Gotham the way Bane did. I'd done it because the city had been in desperate need for a hero, because Batman had vanished, and the people were lost. I'd done it for a million reasons, but I'd never expected this. At most, I'd expected my actions to be attributed to Batman, but I had not been relegated to his shadow.

I laughed again and shot to my feet, nearly skipping around the table to stand in front of Bruce, my hands extended to him. He took them and stood, smiling wider than I'd seen in a long, long time, his eyes alight with that bizarre form of wonder I'd seen on and off since his return. I wrapped my arms around his neck and he put his forehead against mine, our noses bumping and bringing more laughter from my throat.

"Let's do extraordinary things together," I said quietly. "Always."

Bruce's low laughter moved through his chest and across my lips on his breath. "Always."


Just the epilogue left!

This one would have been up earlier, but I was on vacation in Tennessee and then there were some resurging personal problems, but it's here now so hopefully you enjoy it! Even though I'm not 100% sure about it. I'm not sure what's bugging me about it though. Also I don't know if anything in this chapter is ridiculous or not. I'm just sort of going with it at this point and have been for a while. This chapter fought me the whole way through.

I am sorry this one is so late. The epilogue shouldn't take me as long, since I've known what I want in that chapter pretty much since I started writing this thing. Thanks for sticking with me!