Thank you all for the love and support, and to those who leave their thoughts, this big-ass chapter is for you!

I'd love to know what you can pull out of this one, a lot of thought and analysis went into this one.

'What did you find in the files?' I asked Bruce, basking in the start of the evening glow of the city, taking a sip of juice.

Ryan and Dad were upstairs, sent by me a few minutes earlier to avoid being seen by Rachel. After seeing the news I didn't trust her not to say anything to Harvey Dent, and from there god knows what he'd dive into. Bruce and I were sat in the lounge area near the lift, waiting for Rachel to arrive.

He reached down for a briefcase beside his chair. 'I looked at the Tumbler prints, and in the original version, it had a completely different brake design.'

'That's right, it did,' I said, unable to see where Bruce was going.

'It was changed to be able to handle the weight of the bridge that was designed to go with it, but we don't have the bridge. I looked at the old design and Fox's original disc was a lot more durable.' He pulled out the right design and handed it to me.

I studied it closely and was reaching for another sheet Bruce was passing me when the doorbell rang.

We paused, arms outstretched and turned our heads to look at the lift.

With a sigh I stood up, dropping the blueprints back into Bruce's lap as I made my way across the rug, checking the camera.

Rachel.

I unlocked the lift and stood beside it.

When the doors opened to reveal the penthouse Rachel had enough time to catch the focused and intense expressions on our faces before we relaxed. Caught a little off guard, she stepped across the threshold.

Satisfied that only Rachel was in the lift, I turned away without a word and went to fetch the case file.

'Hi,' Rachel smiled, not unsurprised to see Bruce sitting in an armchair. 'Jim told me you took on the Fergyle case. Thank you.' She found my juice with her gaze and sat down in the chair opposite mine and turned to her right to speak to Bruce sitting on the other side of the clump of chairs. 'Bruce, hi. How was your day?'

'Fine,' Bruce smiled softly, looking at her with an expression so disgustingly tender I had to fight the urge to liken him to a piece of fillet steak.

Grimacing and beginning to wish I was literally anywhere else, I was never good with mush, I sat down.

'Work's been exhausting, prosecuting all of the corrupt police officers…'

'Well,' Bruce said softly, 'take it easy.'

I waited to give Rachel enough time to ask about his wellbeing but she turned her focus to me.

I ignored a bubbling of anger somewhere in the back of my mind and settled into the cushions. 'I think we've got what you're after.' I hooked my ankle around the coffee table and forcefully dragged it over the rug to rest between us. 'In here,' I put the statement of the officer on the table, 'the abducted officer states the symptoms he felt prior and after being brought unconscious by the drug. What was unique was the persistent presence of strange colours in his vision and heaviness of his body after he woke.'

Rachel followed my every word carefully, looking at the report with a sharp and clear eye.

'Based on further details in the report, it sounds like a very rare and expensive sleeping pill only recently on the market. I pulled Fergyle's medical records.' I put them on the table as I finally found them. 'His wife began taking them for insomnia seven months ago.'

Rachel nodded slowly as she took the information into her head.

Giving up on trying to find the right papers, I sat closer to the edge of the chair and put the file on the table, spreading it out. 'We also had the labs at Wayne Enterprises check this separate blood sample amongst the evidence. Here, this one.'

'It was thought impossible to match due to the contamination,' Rachel frowned, raising her head.

I glanced to Bruce on my left. 'Bruce looked at Wayne Enterprises results and managed to isolate one previously undiscovered DNA sample. It matches Fergyle, which in itself isn't particularly solid evidence, the defence can claim that the two had simply come into contact somehow prior to his abduction.'

'But…?' Rachel asked, smiling as her mood lightened seeing the clean-cut way I was speaking, business like, not like I was delivering bad news.

'But,' I agreed, 'the same strain of DNA was found from a further investigation into the swabs taken from under the officer's nails. He didn't manage to scrape hard enough to draw blood, but Fergyle's skin cells were present.' I sat back into my chair again, taking another sip of juice.

'I also remembered seeing Fergyle running into a car before I found the officer,' Bruce said. 'Evelyn went through the CCTV and found the car. The number plate isn't registered.' He pushed a photo of the car forward toward Rachel.

She sat there, staring, a little blown away. 'Wow. This is great, thank you.' She parcelled the papers into the file and looked up at me as she thanked me.

I glanced at Bruce and then leant forward again to help Rachel pack the folder away.

'Are you going out tonight?' Rachel asked us.

'Yes.' I stood up and took my now empty glass to the kitchen.

Bruce and Rachel followed and I opened a sparkling non-alcoholic bottle from the fridge, pouring three glasses.

They each took one and continued across the floor to the smaller dining area.

Silence fell. Rachel thinking about her difficult brief the next day, Bruce and I looking at the city in our own separate worlds.

My mind eventually came back to Jordan, and I let my eye fall to the street far below, staring blankly at the hard ground. I drew in a breath and raised my head, eyes still trained on the street, expression souring slowly to a glare.

I stared for a little longer and then looked up at the skyline around me.

'When you found that police officer,' said Rachel, 'did he say anything before the police arrived?'

Bruce and I twisted on the spot. 'No,' he said, 'he was unconscious.'

'Have you eaten, Rachel?' I asked, 'I'm having food delivered soon.'

'No,' she said sadly, 'but I have to leave. I've got a meeting with the policemen's lawyer. Hopefully another time.'

I reassured her with a warm nod and turned back to the city.

Rachel stared at us for a moment, concerned. There was something about what she was seeing that she couldn't place.

And then, like a tidal wave, it hit. She remembered the months prior, standing at the lake at Wayne Manor, turning to see Bruce with hilarity painted across his face, and me, doubled over, no more than a few inches above the ground, laughing so hard my eyes were watering as I laughed at Bruce over something she hadn't caught.

Even before that, when I had first met her. With a casual remark about his dripping wet arm over my shoulders, me being physically dragged away from the cars into the conversation, some remark about polo that she didn't seem to understand as well as Bruce had. There had been… something.

We weren't wearing anything that was tight around our muscles, but without the deceptively cut clothes, it was a lot easier to see. Earning a remark about a tough karate match from Dad, at some point in the afternoon, I'd rolled up the sleeves of the white blouse I had put on that morning and revealed the muscles and a dark bruise on my upper right arm, and Bruce, normally so well hidden by his flowy, oddly-fitted business suits, had removed the jacket and altered how his shirt sat to reveal the true bulk of muscle he carried, and was keeping most of his weight on his left foot.

We stood like titans.

There was power radiating from us, air serious, contained.

There was none of the mirth she had been able to associate with our relationship. When stripped of persona and cowls and left in natural states, our eyes were still hard, minds working critically, a laugh passed through without seating its presence in the atmosphere.

Peace.

Her eyes widened. There had been peace in us, all those months ago.

Now we stood like we were at war.

Suddenly less disappointed that she was on her way out, Rachel wiped away a small tear she didn't know had begun to form in her eye and walked herself to the lift, glancing back every now and then.

I stood in the face of an unseemly dark cloud as I followed a drug dealer. The only way to make things safe enough to let Ryan out of the house was to completely eradicate the Chechen's drug ring, and luckily we were close already, but he'd have to wait until we got Lau. In the meantime I'd settled for damaging it further, sweeping the streets very carefully for dealers and users, often in time to prevent the latest unsuspecting buyers from taking Crane's drug.

In two days we'd get Crane, the wait was manageable.

I was impressed with how quickly Wayne Enterprises had pulled together a deal with LCI Holdings, though between Lucius and I it shouldn't have been a surprise.

Lau would give us the books tomorrow and from there, assuming we were right, it was game on.

I tailed the dealer until nearly 1AM, when he was about to go into his house.

I swooped down and knocked him out with a lazy kick to the back of his head as I fell and dragged him to a handrail to tie him up.

Nothing. Still, one less on the streets. At least when the police found him.

Tired, I sighed and slipped into my tumbler, or Batmobile as Alfred had begun to call them, and drove to the bunker, unsurprised but glum nonetheless to see it empty. If it wasn't for the extra time and the limitations the batcave presented, I'd use that every day. It felt too big when in the bunker alone.

I removed the suit and put it back into the case, then the underlayer and pulled at the yoga-pant-like muscle hugging pants and t-shirt I wore underneath the suit, grateful it was breathable.

I wiped my eyes completely clean and fixed my hair, gave a sweep of maintenance to the bunker and then made for the Mercedes.

I drove home and yawned as I walked through the house, keeping the lights dim to spare my eyes. I was getting a drink from the tap when Ryan approached, rubbing his eyes.

I blinked at him, stunned.

He grinned lop-sided at me.

'Bed not comfy?' I asked.

'It's heavenly,' he replied. 'I was playing Mario.'

I looked at him for a moment then laughed and stepped aside to let him get a drink.

'Have you been training?' he asked, off-handed.

'Mm, gets work out of my head. Though it makes me more tired.'

'Tch,' he laughed.

I turned the TV on, saw GCN reporting on Jim Gordon and promptly turned it off in a disgusted manner.

Ryan giggled slightly at me. 'You're annoyed by that, too?'

'I would be more grateful if there was less drama in there. Why were you playing so late?'

'Had trouble sleeping,' Ryan shrugged.

My head tilted slightly. 'What's up?'

He looked at me for a long time, the hushed quiet of the city and the dim lights seeming to help him.

'A lot to think about. You were right the other day when you said you were the protector.'

I raised an eyebrow, listening to him closely.

He sat on a stool. 'You were always the one who could fight. The one who knew the dangers so I didn't have to.'

My head tilted to the other side and I sighed a little.

He looked at my clothes and sighed again. 'You fight. Jordan and I used to smirk at the bullies in school because I knew that at any minute, my big sister would show up.' He smiled. 'Thank you.'

My eyes widened and blinked a little. It made me feel warm and loved. I also had a distant feeling, slightly isolated, quite alone.

'Thank you for protecting me again, for so quickly keeping me safe. That's something I'm not very good at, so I'm very glad I have you to do that. I'll grow, I promise. But I think I'm always going to need your help.'

'As long as you do all the biochemistry,' I smiled.

That made him chuckle. 'Strengths and weaknesses.'

I considered him for a moment, not liking the conclusion I was getting to but concluded there anyway. 'Ryan.'

'Mm?'

'Very soon, everything is going to get very loud, and everything is going to get dangerous. Gordon has nearly pinned the mob.'

Ryan looked a cocktail of hopeful, impressed and concerned.

'The pressure will probably be taken off you, but I want you and Dad to stay here until we know for sure.'

He saw the concentration and the detached air, the emotional void that allowed only the warmth to stay, as long as it was hidden.

'Gotham will bring itself back from the brink. I promise.'

'You must have been told some pretty important stuff,' he breathed.

'Never a dull moment at Wayne Enterprises,' I replied with a half-grin. 'Come on. Crane will get taken in in two days. This is probably the safest time for you to go out for a while.'

We went upstairs and I showered, changing into a black hoodie and dark green shirt, dark blue jeans and a pair of runners.

Ryan was waiting for me by the lift in a red hooded jumper and black pants, gloves protruding over his hands where they stuck out of his pockets.

I took him down the lift and into the garage, sliding into the Aston.

I stopped for a second, running a hand fondly over the steering wheel. Not quite alone.

The doors opened and I drove out, the Aston gliding out and onto the road, humming through the streets.

I drove the two minutes into the heart of the party district and parked amongst an array of fancy cars owned by restaurant, lounge and night-club goers.

'It's half past one in the morning, why is everyone still out?' Ryan asked, incredulous.

I tutted, amused, and slipped my wallet into a pocket, glancing out of the car. 'You'll probably find Bruce Wayne in there somewhere if you looked hard enough. Come on.' I opened the doors and waited for Ryan.

He got out slowly, looking around. He never bothered to come here because of the expense. When he finally came to and shut the doors, I locked them and headed for the building across the road, an old-fashioned arcade.

Ryan guffawed when he saw it and hurried across the road, hurrying in. I paused to chuckle at his retreating back and sauntered in after him.

We spent a few hours at the arcade and then drove back home again, able to sleep soundly.

I was woken by my phone ringing and glared at it as I answered. 10:23 AM.

'Hello?'

'We're out the front.'

'Oh. Hello.' I got no response to the dulling of my tone and staggered out of bed, sticking the phone to my ear. 'What?'

'We're out the front, I want to go over the briefing for Lau before the weekly board.'

'Give me five minutes.'

'Okay. Alfred made you tea, it's here in a thermos.'

'Bless that angel.' I hung up and changed into a business suit with my favourite thick-heeled boots.

There was movement in a lounge I passed on my way to the stairs. I stuck my head in to find Dad looking at the garden, news playing in the background.

'I'm going to work!'

'Don't work too hard!'

I assumed Ryan was still asleep and hurried outside, spotting Bruce's car waiting outside the foyer.

Alfred stepped out and opened the door for me when he saw me. 'Good morning, doctor!'

'Alfred,' I sighed happily. 'Thank you for the tea.'

'As always,' he nodded happily.

I lowered myself into the car and Alfred shut the door.

Bruce passed me the aforementioned thermos, lid already open. 'How did it go last night?'

'I found a dealer, but nothing interesting. How was the evening out?'

'Delicious, and then safe but productive,' Bruce replied.

'I'm glad. If we get Crane tomorrow, Gordon will probably get asked to hand him to Harvey Dent. Might be an opportunity to see how well they see eye to eye.'

'I was thinking the same.'

The day to get Crane arrived with a bang. I was sitting in my office in Wayne Enterprises, eating lunch with the news on when they reported a large-scale robbery. From a bank we had tracked the mob's money to.

It worried me. Who'd steal from the mob?

We deemed it fit to talk to Gordon, but first. It was time. Crane. Finally.

We hid on the buildings around the carpark, spying as The Chechen and Crane faced each other.

We didn't miss the arrival of the dogs.

A man under the Chechen threw another onto the ground. Even from so far away, I could tell he'd ingested Crane's toxin.

They talked until suddenly they turned as the dogs barked, looking at something in the shadow behind a pillar.

I recognised the top of Batman's cowl, though Batman himself was crouched beside me. Copy-cats. Copy-bats.

I sighed. We couldn't stop them, but they were likely to get themselves killed. Bruce had found a serious problem in their use of guns.

It was our choice not to, so it bothered me a little, but it was nothing compared to the issues Bruce had found rooted in the copy-Batmans' use of guns.

We moved through the shadows, closing in.

Then we heard the sound of gunfire and glass breaking.

Enough. I sent in the tumbler, or batmobile.

Batman controlled the theatrics, as always. The tumbler waited and then shot an empty car to intimidate, accompanied by the screeching of tyres as the dealers tried to make their escape.

I stuck to the shadows until I saw Batman again, knocking out a copy-bat, breaking the guns.

I stuck to the shadows and took out people on the edge.

Then I heard a yell of pain from Batman and turned to see a dog falling back to the ground. Too much was happening at once.

The Chechen had already made his escape, but Batman leapt onto the white van Crane was trying to drive past.

I stood watching until Crane steered toward a pillar near me, and I noticed Batman had got his arm caught by the bracer in the van.

Without thinking, I sprinted forward as fast as I could and tackled him off.

We landed on the concrete floor with a grunt and I rolled, standing up and holding a hand out.

He took it and looked me in the eye as I pulled him up.

I nodded, and went to start tying up the many men lying around.

Halfway through the first one I heard a faint crash. By the time I'd gotten the rest in one place, Batman reappeared hauling Crane by the scuff of his shirt across the ground.

I threw him a packet of zip ties and kept working.

Batman shoved Crane down, tied his hands and yanked the stupid mask away from his face.

They glared at each other for a second, or rather Batman's cowl did while Crane smirked, and then Batman stood up, pointing at the copy-bats.

'Don't let me find you out here again.'

I followed him as he swept round and began to climb into the tumbler.

'We're trying to help you!' one yelled back.

'We don't need help!' Batman replied.

'Not my diagnosis!' Crane grinned.

'That degree working well for you, Crane?' I growled and settled into the passenger seat.

'What gives you the right? What's the difference between you and me?'

'I'm not wearing hockey pads,' Batman thundered as the tumbler closed the roof over us.

We drove away.

I knew we weren't to blame for the actions of those that had recently started dressing as Batman and Thunder, trying to do the same. I did, however, take issue in their disregard for their safety.

In Gotham, having a gun meant nothing. If you weren't trained, you were as good as gone.

'Police will be here in two minutes,' I said, voice normal. I sighed triumphantly. 'We got him.'

Batman looked pleased.

We sat in the usual silence as we drove to the bank in question, parked and moved through the shadows to the bank vault, avoiding swarms of police taking forensics.

I looked around, undoubting I'd be faced with some of these forensics myself in no more than two days' time.

We found Gordon with Detective Ramirez in the vault, which was stripped bare but for a few piles of money.

It wasn't hard to guess.

Gordon finally saw us, double-taking as usual.

Ramirez turned when he did and immediately walked out, ordering the officers to give us a minute.

In the moments that followed, Gordon approached and handed us a large photo.

Grinning at us was our latest problem. The Joker.

'Him again,' said Batman. 'Who are the others?'

'Another bunch of small timers,' Gordon answered.

I took the photo from him and studied it closely, squinting at the tiny details in his face.

'Some of the marked bills we gave you.'

I looked up. Batman was holding one of the piles of cash.

'My detectives have been making drug buys with them for weeks. This bank was another drop for the mob. That makes five banks – we've found the bulk of that dirty cash.'

'Time to move in.'

Gordon pointed at the photo in my hands. 'What about this guy?'

'Mob first,' I replied, 'before they can slip away again. We don't have the energy or resources to deal with two parties at once.'

Gordon nodded and went thoughtful. 'We'll have to hit all the banks simultaneously. SWAT teams, backup…' he held up another pile of bank notes. 'When the new DA gets wind of this, he'll want in.'

I studied Gordon very closely. There was hesitance in him, disapproval.

'Do you trust him?' asked Batman.

'Be hard to keep him out,' Gordon replied.

Good answer. We vanished.

'This Joker,' said Batman as we returned to the Tumbler, 'what do you think he's doing with the mob's money?'

'He's either very strong or completely insane, possibly both, to go after the mob's money. Something tells me they'll get him to take us down. It's like he's advertising his business. "I can steal your money, pay me to get rid of them." We'll have to start thinking more and more on our feet.'

He absorbed this. 'I'm going to the narrows. You?'

'Uptown.'

Without further words, we vanished further into the dark.

I returned to the bunker a few hours before dawn, returned home to sleep and was back before Ryan or Dad had even woken (by the state of my dining room, it seemed they'd been up late playing boardgames).

The lift brought the Mercedes down and I yawned, stretching as I got out. Then I looked up and saw Bruce sitting at the computers.

'Did you go home?' I asked in minor disbelief.

'Not yet,' he replied, distracted. 'I imagine Alfred will be along soon enough to tell me off.'

'He will when he sees the mess you're making of that,' I replied, nodding as I noticed Bruce trying to sew a gash on his arm. 'When did that happen?'

'Those dogs,' Bruce winced, glancing at the computer.

I studied what he was working on, leaning over the desk. CCTV of the previous bank robbery.

After a moment he sighed, and lowered his other arm, turning his head away to look up at me. 'You do this, I'm getting nowhere.'

'You're better off waiting for Alfred, you know,' I said, standing up again.

'I know, I know. But I've started now.'

'Why are you here?'

'Needed the power tools to change a tumbler wheel.'

'Why,' I said sternly, 'what did you do to it?'

Mercifully, Alfred appeared before he had to respond.

'I'm not sure there was any point in Evelyn saving your manor, sir,' he said, approaching with a coffee. 'Shall I move the family silver here?'

Bruce sighed at the scolding.

'Alfred, come do this,' I grumbled, stepping back and holding the needle steady.

He placed the coffee in front of Bruce and carefully took the needle from me.

I left him to it.

'You two do make a bloody mess,' he noted, grumbling at the mess we'd made of Bruce's arm.

'Yeah. It makes me learn from my mistakes,' Bruce replied, looking at the CCTV again to distract him from the feeling in his arm.

'You ought to be pretty knowledgeable by now, then.'

I smiled briefly at the comment.

'It's a shame we didn't get the new armor by yesterday,' Bruce said.

'Here, did you get mauled by a tiger?' Alfred asked.

I laughed.

'A dog.'

'A what?'

'It was a big dog.' Bruce insisted, and looked down. 'There were more copycats-,'

'Copybats,' I corrected.

'-last night, Alfred. With guns.'

'Why don't you hire them and take the weekend off?' Alfred replied, finishing the wound.

Bruce spoke through a small laugh. 'That's not exactly what I had in mind when I said I wanted to inspire people.'

'I know,' Alfred said, 'But things have improved. Look at the new District Attorney.'

'We are,' I said flatly from afar.

'Closely,' Bruce finished. 'We need to know if he can be trusted.'

'God knows what we do if he can't,' I said, rubbing my eyes with one hand.

Alfred looked at me, about to offer some comforting words when he noticed one of the screens had a recording of Rachel with Dent. 'Are you interested in his character, or his social circle, Master Wayne?'

My mood deepened and I rubbed my eyes harder with a sigh.

'Who Rachel spends her time with is her business,' Bruce replied simply, quietly, and stood up.

Alfred followed him. 'I trust you don't have me followed on my day off?'

'If you ever took one, I might,' Bruce replied, turning to glance at his loyal butler.

Amused, I finally opened my eyes and saw Alfred's solemn expression. Chasing the reason, I turned around and saw Bruce's bare back, covered in scars and hideous bruises. My eyes widened.

Alfred was right. Whenever he does something himself, he makes an absolute mess.

'Know your limits, Master Wayne,' Alfred said.

'Batman has no limits.'

Whoa. Red flag. Alfred didn't miss the sharp, alarmed expression jump across my face.

'Well you do, sir.'

'Well, can't afford to know 'em.' Bruce pulled a clean shirt on and looked at Alfred.

'And what's gonna happen on the day that you find out?'

'We all know how much I like to say, "I told you so."'

'On that day, Master Wayne, even I won't want to. Probably.'

Bruce smiled a little and finally saw my expression. He frowned. 'What is it?'

I went a tad incredulous and stared at him for a long time before coming up with the right method of expressing my thoughts. 'You're not a punching bag, you know. You're supposed to dodge heavy blows.'

'And I suppose you can see everything that comes for your back?' he replied, not missing Alfred was closer to me than him, meaning he was outnumbered once again.

'More than you can, clearly.' I pulled my sleeves up as high as they would go, revealing bare, unscathed arms, free even of the bruise Rachel had spied a few days earlier. At least I knew what I'd be poking at when we fought. 'It's all very well standing like a concrete wall to look intimidating, but it doesn't help you knock anyone out.'

'Evelyn.'

'What? You're making Alfred worried, throwing yourself into danger like that.'

He straightened, on the defensive. 'Ev-,'

I leapt at him, landing and kicking to the side.

Alfred stepped back with surprised haste, as Bruce blocked my kick with his forearm and a scowl.

We persisted, Bruce managing to catch his guard.

I fought with a clear mind and all the precision I was capable of, overwhelming him so much faster than usual, fighting him for the first time with my full ability.

As usual, he blocked most of the attacks.

I delivered a hard, fast and weighted blow to the inside of his arm after it had blocked, sending it flying.

I simulated a hit to the gut by using my nails instead of what would have normally been a hard, painful jab, twirled around him, elbowed him in the back, missing the injuries, kicked out at his leg as he stumbled and sent him sprawling, stumbling dangerously low.

He managed to stop, spun on the spot and faced me again, crouching low.

I stood upright, legs bent slightly, one shoulder dipped in a slight turn of my torso. I flexed my hands.

Bruce charged, swinging for my head, arms and gut. I dodged every single one with grace as he drove me backward, keeping an arm by my side, the other occasionally catching a wrist and deflecting it away when my balance called for it.

In a tiny gap between his attacks, I planted a foot firmly against his chest and pushed in a kick out, sending him back.

I pressed the opening and kicked the same way again, this time on his shoulder.

Alfred had remained off to the side, watching with a close eye.

Bruce grunted as he was sent further back.

I moved fast.

I attacked to his right.

Bruce blocked with both arms.

In a flash I was at his left, sending him to the ground.

I let him fall.

He landed on his side, crucially not his back, and crucially not on the arm with the cut.

Nobody moved.

Then Alfred stepped forward as I dropped my stance, staring at Bruce.

'You're not a punching bag,' I repeated, angry.

It pained me to see Alfred so worried, yet so consistently shut down by Bruce as he returned with more and more scarring. Polo had long since been lost as a feasible alibi, and Alfred's comment about his kidnapping being the only reasonable-sounding one for months plagued him more than Bruce would have ever liked to admit.

I sighed, accidentally letting my upset mood slip through, and checked the time. 'I have to go; IT test run for the forensic science office.'

As my footsteps vanished into my car and the lift raised up, Bruce winced and rolled over onto his back, staring at the lights in defeat.

'She's right, Master Wayne,' said Alfred, after another moment of silence.

'I know, I know,' Bruce sighed. 'I'm no use if I'm covered in injuries.'

Alfred stepped around and put on his comforting and lecturing voice. 'It's unlikely that you will face anyone with the skills of Evelyn on the streets of Gotham, sir.'

Bruce still didn't move but shook his head. 'That's not the problem. The problem is I'm being too reckless.'

'If you cannot put on the Batsuit, sir,' Alfred said, pacing around Bruce, 'you cannot hope to help Gotham, and Evelyn will take the weight by herself.'

'I know.'

Alfred left Bruce to clean the desks.

Bruce stayed where he was, thinking until sighing and standing up. 'What's troubling you most, Alfred?'

The butler blinked in pleasant surprise, putting down the cleaning cloth. 'Sir?'

Bruce gave him a warm look in response. 'I'm sorry. Tell me what you're fearing.'

To great concern, Alfred's face dropped from professional to completely sad. 'Do you know what I see in you both, sir?'

Bruce shrugged and shook his head.

'I see the very strength that makes you Batman and Thunder, destroying you.'

Bruce's heart grew heavier.

'I see the resolve, that I admire, to do good, and to save Gotham, pushing you further and further. I see…' Alfred took a moment to sniff, and blink away the pressure in his eyes, 'I see your life, your energy, your love and warmth… fading. Evelyn fights with numbers that terrify me, and yet the only thing she worries about when in this bunker, is the state of Gotham and the injuries on your back.

'You're covered in bruises, and scars, and more. You tracked Harvey Dent, and the bank robbers before you started sewing yourself up, and it took being beaten by Evelyn for this conversation to start. The thing is, none of that is what troubles me most. What I…' he had to pause again, 'what I see now, sir, or cannot see, is your spirit.

'I have not heard Evelyn laugh like she used to in six months. Neither have you, nor do you, either. You're not depressed, you're not unhappy, you're just…' a small tear finally slipped through Alfred, 'you're fading, like colours in the sun.'

I stopped to buy breakfast on my way to Wayne Enterprises, worked for a few hours in my office until Lucius knocked on the door, drawing me away from the research papers.

'Evelyn, Mr Lau is here.'

'Okay. I'll be right there.'

I switched off my computer and rubbed a hand over my forehead.

'Long night?'

'Long morning,' I corrected wearily.

'Mr Wayne taking more energy than the streets of Gotham?'

'I'd rather be still out there,' I confirmed.

Lucius chuckled. 'I'll see you soon.'

I gave a sleepy smiling nod as Lucius continued on his way. I finished packing away and rubbed my face and stretched my neck, bending down low over my desk to stretch my shoulders.

The next thing I knew, there were two hands gently on my shoulders, stirring me from sleep.

'Evelyn.'

I crinkled my eyes open and frowned in confused haze.

The hands curled around my shoulders and smoothly lifted me upright against my chair.

'This isn't a comfortable place to sleep.'

Still half-under, I closed my eyes and leant onto him, already drifting back into sleep.

Bruce briefly grinned down at the top of my head, balancing me by the shoulders. 'Lau's in the boardroom. The meeting is about to start.'

'I'm going to have to wake up before I can start going,' I mumbled.

'I know.' Bruce moved his hands to hold my upper arms. 'Come on.'

He pulled me up into a stand and steered me to the lift until my brain had shaken the sludge.

I stepped into the boardroom, eyes immediately falling onto Lau.

Bruce sauntered over to a chair in the middle of the boardroom table, happily watching me walk past him all the way to the front to Lucius and sit beside him.

'Lau,' said the newcomer, and offered me his hand.

'Dr Pendragon.'

'Well, Mr Lau,' said Lucius, 'we need to go over the draft for the first financial year of our partnership, and decide if that is the path we'd like to take.'

I sat, and listened, getting driven mad by the fact I had to go over a plan that we would cancel straight after, in such extensive detail.

Finally, Lau finished.

'A joint venture with Wayne Enterprises will be a powerhouse.'

Sure.

Lucius stood up. 'Well, Mr Lau, I speak for the rest of the board… and Mr Wayne…'

We all looked halfway back down the long boardroom table to see Bruce asleep in his chair, arms crossed, feet up. I felt much the same way.

'…in expressing our own excitement.'

Lucius and the rest of the board showed Mr Lau and his companions out. I stayed sat in my chair, stretching my arms and, to my horror, incredibly stiff and tense shoulders.

Through all the shuffling and talking, Bruce woke up and rubbed his eyes, glaring at the window. He stood up to look out of it, and I stayed in my chair staring at the wall.

Lucius stopped for a moment as he came back in, glancing between both of us with a surprised look on his face.

'Another long night?' He reached Bruce. 'This joint venture was your idea, and the consultants love it, but I'm not convinced.'

I stood up and joined them at the window, smiling lightly, amused, at Lucius, as was Bruce.

'L.S.I.'s grown eight percent annually, like clockwork. They must have a revenue stream that's off the books. Maybe even illegal.'

'Okay,' Bruce smiled, 'cancel the deal.'

Lucius blinked, smile imitating our own. 'You already knew.'

'We needed a closer look at their books.'

Lucius looked at us wryly. 'Anything else you can trouble me for?'

Bruce simply pointed at me.

'We need new brakes.'

'Burning out the Lamborghini, Mr Wayne?'

'Actually, it was Evelyn.'

I passed Lucius my briefcase. 'We've designed the new brakes, but we don't have the time to build them.'

'I'll see what I can do,' Lucius nodded, and made an apology as he had to hurry away to another meeting.

We were left alone in the boardroom.

'The restaurant I'm taking Natasha to,' Bruce began, 'Harvey Dent made a reservation there this evening.'

'He was in an interview for Gotham Tonight yesterday, but I missed it. Sounds like a good opportunity.'

'Doing anything with Ryan?'

'No, not tonight.'

'Half past six. It's at that hotel I bought a few months back, the-,'

'You know I don't know restaurant names.'

'It's a hotel.'

I just stared at him.

'I'll send you the address.'

'Oh god, it's not expensive, is it? Bruce? Please tell me I don't have to-,'

'Sorry.'

'Shit.'

I stared at myself in the mirror, feeling very uneasy as I finished the large loose bun of my hair, styling the looser parts of the front to frame my face, trying not to automatically make myself look intimidating.

Ryan's head appeared through the ensuite door. 'Dad's wondering where your copy of Gladiator is.'

'In the cupboard under the TV by the lift.'

'Are you going out?' he asked in surprise.

'Going to meet Harvey Dent.'

'In a dress?'

'It's that kind of place, unfortunately.'

'Well, you look nice.'

I didn't look convinced, which made Ryan smile and laugh at me, and he walked into the bathroom to stand beside me. 'There's nothing wrong with getting dressed up, you know.'

'And when was the last time you wore a suit?'

'…'

'At least the dress is nice,' I grumbled.

'That's the spirit!'

The dress in question had a high, patterned-cut neckline and mid-length sleeves and was made of thick, strong but light fabric that made a nice skirt that ended just above my shoes, and was easy to move in. I didn't even have a problem with the grey-blue colour, or the black shoes, or the thin black belt around my waist that I could feel when I turned.

I hated the implications of wearing the dress, a fancy restaurant, that you had to get dressed up for, where the money and fashion mattered more than the conversation. It was soul crushing.

What I hated most was the pretence I was forced into. I'd be talking to Harvey Dent, and thanks to Thunder I couldn't think with a sharp eye, an intense focus nor deep and deadly concentration.

'Are you not going to wear a necklace with it?'

'I don't have any.'

'What, none?!'

'No, Ryan, I don't own any silver necklaces. In fact, I think the only one I do own is that one you bought for me at the fair in middle school.'

He laughed. 'The sooner you go, the sooner it'll be over,' Ryan sang, circling around me.

I growled and grabbed my phone and small purse with my license and cards, wresting the skirt of the dress up above my thigh to put them in a pocket in the shorts underneath.

Ryan laughed, as always amused by my insistence to have pockets. I put on my beloved silver bracelet and headed for the lift.

'Where did you say the-,'

'Cupboard under the TV by the front door~!'

Feeling like death, I reluctantly watched my Aston Martin be driven away by the valet and waited outside, glad it was the beginning of July.

In a few minutes, Bruce's Lamborghini appeared and I felt like death warmed up. I reverted to plain "death" when that, too was driven away. I was brought away from my wistful staring after it when Bruce walked over and started introductions.

'Natascha, this is Dr Evelyn Pendragon.'

'Pleasure,' said the woman, holding out her hand.

I shook it happily, immediately getting the impression she was smart. Something about the way she captivated one's attention without wearing a distastefully revealing dress, even if the one she wore had a neckline that terrified me at the thought of wearing it.

We set off into the restaurant. 'Did you forget your purse?' Bruce asked me.

I tapped the pockets of my hidden shorts, already scanning the restaurant for Dent.

'Is that not Harvey Dent?' Natascha asked, looking at an area I'd yet to scan, accelerating my attention and gaining Bruce's from wherever else it had been.

'And I think that,' I said, feeling a creeping sensation tingle over my shoulders, 'is Rachel Dawes.'

Bruce ignored me and headed for their table. 'Rachel! Fancy that.'

She looked up. 'Yeah, Bruce. Fancy that.'

… … … … … … … … Hm. I decided to ignore her tone of voice.

Bruce stopped to introduce them. 'Rachel, Natascha, Natascha, Rachel.'

'Natascha…,' smiled Rachel, on a hunch, 'are you… the… prima-?'

'Prima ballerina for the Moscow ballet, mm,' Bruce finished.

'Wow,' Rachel cooed, 'Harvey's taking me next week.'

Oooooohh…. This was why I got angry w-

'Really? So, you're into ballet?' Bruce said, looking at Harvey.

Oh god. 'Says the man out to dinner with a ballerina,' I replied, smiling at Harvey Dent.

'Bruce, Evelyn,' said Rachel happily, 'this is Harvey Dent.'

Since I was close to his seat, Dent turned to me first and even shook my hand, something I didn't fail to notice. 'Dr Pendragon, is it? I've heard your name a few times.'

'Hello.'

'And the famous Bruce Wayne. Rachel's told me everything about you.'

'Well I certainly hope not,' Bruce replied pleasantly.

That caught me completely off guard and I tried not to giggle.

'So, let's put a couple of tables together,' Bruce said, eyes flickering to me for a second as I kept trying.

Harvey, to his credit, didn't look disappointed or offended at all, and if anything looked genuinely worried about his concern. 'I'm not sure that they'll let us.'

'Oh they should,' Bruce smiled, looking arrogant. 'I own the place.'

While Dent sat in a stupor for a moment or three, Bruce gestured to the waiters around the room.

'I heard you helped Jim Gordon get Archie Full,' Dent managed to say to me as they hurried to put the tables together.

'Only with a couple of simple tests,' I smiled, 'forensics is a lot easier than the policework.'

'You have a lot of respect for the MCU, then?'

Interesting. 'Jim Gordon's never failed to impress me,' I answered, the truth pouring form the bottom of my heart.

'He's a good man,' Bruce added, 'I met him once as a kid.'

The waiters swapped the table for a slightly longer one and added three chairs and drinks.

I sat beside Natascha, next to Harvey on the next side and opposite Rachel, Bruce opposite Harvey to my left, both of us in prime analytical positions. Not by accident.

'I uh, I saw your work on Maroni's case on the news,' Bruce started, 'it's a shame you didn't get him.'

'Well, next time,' Harvey smiled. 'We're getting a lot closer, Mr Wayne.'

'I'm glad to hear it. I may not know a lot about politics, or even the law, but, I am glad to see someone finally put the pressure on the Falcone family.'

Harvey knew what he was truly referring to. The mess of Joe Chill's case caused by the Falcone family that resulted in Bruce Wayne disappearing was not something a, at the time, future DA would forget or be unaware of.

'Harvey's done incredible work,' Rachel grinned, looking at him lovingly.

Mercifully, it was my night off. I went for a gulp of wine, not quite regretting it after. Still not Alfred's standard.

'What about you, Dr Pendragon? Why help the police?'

I felt another chill freeze my shoulders, but a very different kind.

Rachel could sense the subtle changes in Bruce as he tensed and stealthily watched me intently, like a hawk. Her brows creased as she tried to study me.

I meanwhile was stuck looking Dent in the eye, trying to ignore the ice. I opened my mouth, and spoke in a perfectly level and normal voice. 'Jim Gordon was the first hope that I saw for this city, even when it nearly collapsed, before the Batman and Thunder, before any sort of decent DA, or assistant DA,' I said, nodding to Rachel.

'Did you also meet him a long time ago?'

More ice. 'I did, as it happens, yes.'

I didn't have to go to such great lengths to hide my identity as Bruce. No one thought me famous, and no one save for five people in the world (Bruce, Alfred, Lucius, Dad and Ryan) knew the full story about Jordan. Dent was not to become one of them. But there was more than just Jordan, and the rest was enough to satisfy the conversation, if the smaller details like martial arts were spared.

'He doesn't remember, but when he was very little, my brother was kidnapped. Not for long, he was gone after lunch and was home for dinner. But he came home and stuck to me like glue.'

Dent listened with his respectful full attention and with a saddened and troubled expression.

'Anyway, the officer that brought him home, was Jim Gordon. And since then, I've followed the news, and seen and learnt the horrors of Gotham to try and protect my baby brother. Forensics, helping my hero, Jim Gordon? I couldn't be happier.'

Rachel studied Bruce and determined there was far more to it than that.

'And, uh…, what do you know of Gordon working with Batman and Thunder?'

'I wish I could tell you something, Mr Dent, I'm sorry. I don't think I trust them, but I trust Gordon enough to have enough faith in them for now.' That was a twisted sentence for three people at the table, two in particular.

'My goodness, Evelyn,' said Natascha. 'How could anyone want to raise children in a city like this?'

Finally Bruce relaxed. 'Well, I was raised here, I turned out okay.'

'Is Wayne Manor even in the city limits?' Harvey joked.

'W-,' Bruce cleverly responded with, as Harvey met Rachel's eyes and smiled, seeming to check if making a jab at Bruce was okay (it was), 'the Palisades? Sure. You know, as our knew DA, you might wanna figure out, er, where your jurisdiction ends.'

The horrible, arrogant face he pulled in that moment made me cringe. As did his glance to Rachel as Natascha began to speak.

Wine.

'I'm talking about a city that idolises a masked vigilante.'

God bless Natascha. Here we go.

Mercifully, Harvey was the first to speak. 'Gotham city is proud of two ordinary citizens standing up for what's right.'

'Gotham needs heroes like you,' she replied, 'elected officials, not two people who think they're above the law.'

'Exactly,' said Bruce, as we both genuinely agreed with Natascha, 'who appointed "the Batman and the Thunder"?'

'We did,' Harvey said simply.

'Us?' I blinked.

He looked a little surprised by my sudden seeming lack of brainpower. 'Yes. All of us who stood by and let scum take control of our city.'

He wasn't wrong. He was not wrong.

I watched Dent completely, barely blinking.

He wasn't looking at either of us, and so Bruce and I had small smiles on our faces.

'I'm talking about a democracy,' said Natascha.

Harvey leant onto the table. 'When their enemies were at the gates, the Romans would suspend democracy and appoint one man to protect the city. It wasn't considered an honour, it was considered a public service.'

Again, he wasn't wrong; it certainly didn't feel like an honour.

'Harvey,' said Rachel, laughing a little, 'the last man that they appointed to protect their republic was named Ceaser, and he never gave up his power.'

Natascha made a "there you are" gesture with her hands as Bruce and I laughed.

'Okay, fine. You either die a hero or you live long enough to see yourself become the villain.'

I wasn't sure that was entirely correct. But it had enough truth to be a valid concern.

'Look, whoever the Batman and Thunder are, they don't want to do this for the rest of their lives, how could they?'

I felt any merriment in me wither, as I'm sure did Bruce.

As Harvey looked at Natascha, I looked away in thought quick enough to catch Bruce and Rachel glancing at each other.

'They're looking for someone to take up their mantle.'

'Someone like you, Mr Dent?' Natascha said.

'Maybe, if I'm up to it.'

I noticed Rachel didn't seem to have a problem with this.

I picked up my wine glass again.

'What if Harvey Dent one of the caped crusaders?' she smiled, holding up a menu to cover Harvey's face, leaving his mouth and jaw.

'If I were sneaking out every night, someone would have noticed by now.' Dent took Rachel's hand lovingly and I stared unblinking at Rachel as she smiled warmly at him.

Wine. Wine, wine, wine.

When the moment had passed and the two looked away from each other I looked to the wall opposite me, sending my glare away by willpower and tensing the muscles in my hand before letting out a small angry sigh through my nose and diving back into the conversation.

'But what if Miss Dawes is the Thunder?' Natasha did the same with the menu to Rachel.

My stomach twitched as I soured over the thought that Rachel could be Thunder. I tore my focus back before too long. 'I think we could show a little support for Harvey Dent,' I said, glancing at Bruce. I'd heard enough to be impressed. Dent was amazing. I believed in Harvey Dent.

'Well, Dent, I'm sold,' Bruce said quietly with a nod to me, 'I'm going to throw you a fundraiser.'

While Dent politely declined and Bruce assured him it was a good idea, I was watching Rachel. Her body was turned slightly toward Harvey, away from Bruce, hand still in Harvey's. She looked happier and more relaxed than I'd seen her in a long time, certainly since I last saw her with Bruce, even though she had wanted to stay for dinner.

I looked at Harvey, so happy with Rachel, completely in love her, blinded, blissfully unaware of the secrets at the table.

Then I let my eyes drift over to Bruce as the conversation moved around me, watching as he every so often glanced at Rachel, taking her presence in as a source of comfort. Blinded.

I felt the irritation I'd felt months ago at Wayne Manor creeping over me and I knew I had to leave before I exploded or broke the glass in my tightening grip. I felt sick as my opinions of Rachel began to plummet further, finally provided with proof.

And then I realised that my "dress mood" hadn't been brightened by Bruce's presence like it had thrice before, nine months ago. Distraught and feeling dizzyingly isolated, I drained my glass, the action gaining Bruce's attention.

'If you'll excuse me,' I said determinedly, standing up. My tone had been just a little too harsh and my mood seeped through enough for the table to be able to read it a little.

The table, Bruce especially, looked at me in surprise.

To distract them, I turned to Dent, also sold on the man and shook his hand.

'It's time to check on some experiments in the labs. Lovely to meet you, Mr Dent. Brilliant. You're an inspiration. Under your guide, Gotham is bound to go far. Do please let me know if there's anything I can do to help you.'

'Likewise, Dr Pendragon. I hope we can work well together in the future.'

My face changed a little, the meaning privy only to Rachel and Bruce. 'I certainly hope so.'

I nodded to the rest of them and walked away, Bruce following my back with his eyes, frown crossing his face in confusion and slight concern.

Rachel looked around at the table. When she realised that Bruce wasn't heading after me, she stood up instead, following.

She caught up in the foyer. 'Evelyn!'

I turned, unable to keep the flash of my mind from my eyes.

'Is there something wrong?'

'Isn't there always,' I replied, smoothly and obviously evasive, offering her the chance to let it go there.

She softened and folded her arms. 'What's troubling you?'

I stared at her for a long moment, during which she seemed to realise my strange tension had something to do with her. I debated the best way to start the conversation, asking about Harvey, the DA, her social life, Bruce, Batman… until I realised my patience wouldn't take it and just cut straight through.

She seemed to notice this and had just enough time to prepare herself for a heavy impact before I opened my mouth.

'Is your promise still there, are you really waiting for Bruce?'

She blinked, stepping back a little, defensively, swaying a little, too. 'I…'

I waited until she looked me in the eye, signalling she couldn't summon a response. She also didn't know for certain why I was asking, so she couldn't give an answer in the right genre.

'If you really love him, why be with Harvey? Why let Harvey fall in love with you if you're going to leave him in a second one day?'

Her eyes widened a little as she realised. 'You're worried about Bruce.'

'Who wouldn't be?' I said thickly and testily. 'I'm worried about them both.'

She looked me in the eye, daring me to go on but frightened.

'With a promise hanging in the air that one day when Bruce magically reverts to how he was at twenty-two, you'll be together because you do truly love him, this relationship with Harvey seems so…' I trailed off, not being able to find the right word quick enough and not wanting to replace the space with a disgusted noise.

She waited.

I cycled quietly through a few words to find the right one. 'Dishonest, dishonourable, hypocritical… cruel,' I finished, surprising even myself that it was the word I was looking for.

'If B-,'

'I don't think there's any way you could justify this,' I said patiently with a firm air, making no movement. 'It's certainly not honest to Harvey, and Bruce has a blind faith in you that prevents him from seeing just how much you've let yourself love Harvey Dent. They both do. If you think it's acceptable to hurt them like this then I won't respect that; and I couldn't even if I could try.'

Rachel, after a moment of shock, surveyed me very carefully. She could easily tell I was judging her, but she could also find the protective aura. 'I didn't know you cared so much for Bruce.'

My eye twitched a little, head twisting downward slightly, seeming to grow bigger. My voice became lower, smoother, with more weight behind it as anger crept over me. Once again, I felt that she didn't truly understand what Batman and Thunder did, what we went through under the cowls. 'I watch him mid-combat with hell raining all around us, doing the same in this pretty restaurant is child's play.'

Rachel realised then, in that moment, how much deeper than she'd ever thought my bond with Bruce really was. Of course it was, considering what we did, it had to be. And that I was right, just because the masks were gone and we were in a nice restaurant, I was still the woman who was Thunder.

'And Harvey Dent? Dent is our best chance for salvaging as much of our miserable lives as we can. I'd do anything to repay him.'

It was then that Rachel, for the first time, saw me. No cowl, no persona for cover, no forensics, and no small talk. It was easier for her to forget, to not consider, that Bruce was capable of being the Batman; she'd known him since childhood. I was different. Suddenly she could blink and see the suit on me. Even the slightly performance-driven airy tone in my voice had dropped to be the one that was my true, normal tone.

It made me feel highly uneasy revealing the strongest aspects of myself in such a way, far away from the cape and the Kevlar and the criminals, with the creepiest chill nagging at the nape of my neck. It reminded me of the time Bruce and I had first seen her in the Wayne Manor gardens after revealing ourselves, but a whole lot worse. It was like letting go of a rope over water of unknown depth, and I was becoming increasingly aware of the people nearby, of my blind spot and the way the air was moving, my eyes baring into Rachel's, seeing the tiniest movements she made. Adrenaline. In this pretty restaurant.

I was smart. I was gentle, caring, and full of empathy. I was resilient, tough, wise and elegant. I could nap with rabbits, I would sew a wound shut without even blinking and I could and would cry staring out over beautiful scenery.

I was a formidable master of combat. I couldn't stand injustice, I couldn't live without tea and biscuits. I would protect the people I cared about with my life.

It was this realisation that changed her tone. 'I understand.'

My breathing had become quicker without my realising. I took one deep long breath, restraining my outrage and forced myself to take a deliberate step back. My foot moved heavily. 'The part of him that you say you're waiting for is Bruce now. And yet you don't see that and you love another man while holding that promise. You're tormenting the same Bruce Wayne and Harvey Dent that you claim to love.'

Rachel's eyes went the widest they'd been so far, I could see her bristling to defend herself momentarily before she relented to her emotions.

My heart wrenched and filled with dread. I liked Rachel, I really, really did. Bruce always considered her to be a beautiful person, and I couldn't disagree. In that moment I couldn't see any of that. I was tired, drained and craving a blanket, tea and TV. 'They're wonderful people, they don't deserve this,' I sighed and gave her a departing nod to move to the valet for my Aston, taking a very deep breath as I embarked on a herculean task of forcing my bitter mood away.

Rachel stood there for a long time, though I never noticed.

Eventually Harvey appeared in time to see me get into my car and they watched as I drove away.

He turned to Rachel and noticed she had tears in her eyes. 'What happened? Did she say something?'

Rachel was quiet for a very long time. 'I think it was me.'

Harvey had no response to that and carefully steered her back to the table. Bruce looked up when they returned.

'How's Evelyn?' he asked, laid back, before seeing Rachel's face. He softened a little and lowered his head to look at her gently. 'Rachel?'

She sniffled a little and nodded, smiling and returning her presence to the dinner. 'I'm fine, Bruce, please don't worry.'

'And how is Evelyn?' asked Natasha.

'She's…'

Rachel's pause made Bruce look up worriedly, an action only she noticed.

She hurried to give him a reassuring smile. 'She's strong.'

Bruce couldn't figure out what that meant if he tried for ten thousand years, but it did tell him that he didn't have to worry.

I got home quite quickly, happily wiped away my makeup and changed into the most comfortable pyjamas I owned.

'Back so soon?' Dad asked as I walked through the house.

'Boring conversation,' I said with a grin.

'Ah, they're all the same, those restaurants. I'm gonna hit the hay.'

'Night, Dad.'

I watched the TV for a while in the hopes of a re-run of Harvey Dent on Gotham Tonight, but was met with no luck.

So I sat for a while and replayed the dinner in my head, relieved to have spoken to Dent and have my fears put at ease. He brought me hope. I ignored how blindly in love he was with Rachel. It wasn't my business. As far as Dent knew, I was a work colleague of Bruce Wayne's who might have met Rachel maybe once before.

My stomach reminded me I'd left before even seeing the menus. I was starving. The adrenaline had only made it worse and a well of apathy overflowed into me. My stomach also reminded me of the dread I'd felt after speaking to Rachel.

Why did I have to do that?

I didn't bother checking the kitchen. I went to my room, changed into black pants and a light grey wrap-top with a forest green jacket and put my bracelet back on.

I found Ryan downstairs on a chair in front of the huge fire-lit sitting area and threw my phone at him, already heading for the lift, stuffing my wallet into my pocket.

'If it's anyone you're allowed to talk to, answer it. If not, let it ring.'

'Where are you going?'

'Out. I need food, I want a drink, and a hidey-hole wouldn't go amiss.'

'You're not going back to work, are you?'

'I'd tell you if I was.'

'Evelyn, are you okay?'

I stopped, turned and looked at him. 'Mostly. Give it a few of hours and I'll be fine,' I promised.

'You've got a hidey hole upstairs!'

'I know. But there's nothing to drink in the whole house.' I disappeared down to the streets, standing outside for a while.

I decided on Raw and set off, walking the couple of blocks distance. The streets were bustling and busy with all of Gotham's dinner-goers heading into and out of the party district.

Dent would still be at dinner with Rachel and Bruce.

I arrived, ordered a huge plate of sushi and sake, and sat in a small booth in the corner.

The night grew darker and darker. Ryan was still up, staring out of the window from the chair.

When my phone said 2:38AM he stood up and checked the garage, feeling a horrible jolt going through him as he saw the Mercedes and the Aston both parked beside Dad's car.

He knew, really, that he had little to worry about. Except if I was drunk… then I wouldn't be as able to… why hadn't I taken my phone with me?

What could he do?

He thought of the list. "The only people you speak to are me, Assistant DA Rachel Dawes, Head of the MCU Officer Jim Gordon," The assistant DA seemed a little extensive, as did ringing the MCU.

"Bruce Wayne, Lucius Fox and a man called Alfred Pennyworth." He didn't imagine my friendship with Lucius Fox went as far as him finding me in the streets of Gotham at nearing three in the morning, so he was left with Bruce Wayne and Alfred Pennyworth.

I seemed to have more of a 'pick each other up drunk from parties' kind of friendship with Bruce, so it wasn't a bad option, anyway.

He found "Bruce Wayne" in my phone and called. No answer.

He jittered around the window, as if trying to see down into the streets below. Suddenly Gotham seemed huge, and everyone was so small.

Whispering pleas, he called "Alfred."

'Doctor? It's very late, shouldn't you be making the most of your night off?'

'Hi, uh, is this Alfred Pennyworth?'

If it wasn't for Ryan's quick mind, he'd have missed the tiniest bit of panic that flew through the butler's voice. 'Speaking, sir. Who might this be?'

'I'm Ryan, I'm Evelyn's brother.'

Again, it flew through his voice, but stronger. 'What can I do for you, sir?'

'I, uh, this may sound a little silly, but she went out to eat around half past seven and, well, you can probably guess she left her phone here. It is really late, and I'm not sure if she told you about me…?'

'I understand you are staying at her house for your protection, sir.'

'Yes. So I didn't have a lot of people I could ring, and Bruce Wayne didn't answer his phone…'

No flicker in his voice this time. 'I understand, sir. I'll try to reach Master Wayne.'

'Thank you. I might seem like I'm overreacting, but I've never known her to do this.'

'Neither have I,' replied the butler. 'Please wait a minute, sir.'

'I will. Thank you,' he added gratefully before Alfred hung up.

Alfred didn't miss a beat and whisked himself to the music room and down into the batcave, activating the comms.

'Sir?'

'Here.'

He could hear no scuffs or grunts from the other end, meaning Batman was not in the middle of a fight. 'I've just had a call from Ryan Pendragon.'

'Is he alright?'

'He is, sir, yes. He was worried about Evelyn.'

'Why?'

Alfred found talking to the Batman about things that concerned Bruce quite trying, though he knew what Bruce would have said if he wasn't in the suit and in Gotham.

'Apparently she went out to eat seven hours ago without her phone.'

'She'll be fine.'

Alfred stopped himself and changed his word choice several times. 'I agree, sir. However, her brother seemed very worried. Whether it is in his nature or if Dr Pendragon gave him a reason to be, I cannot say.'

'…'

'What I am worried about, is if he decides to try and find her.'

'…'

Alfred had nothing further to say.

'He knows she'd kill him if he did. Reassure him from me that she will be fine.'

Not in disagreement with the reasoning, but unhappy nonetheless, Alfred called Ryan without turning off the microphone to Batman.

'Hello?'

'Mr Pendragon, hello. I've managed to reach Master Bruce, he said to reassure you not to worry.'

Ryan's brain replayed every moment he'd spent with Bruce Wayne. 'I-. Thank you, Mr Pennyworth. I, uh… I'll, uh, try not to worry. I'm sure she'll be back. She always will be, she always has done so, my whole life... anyway, please thank Mr Wayne for me.'

'I will, sir, goodnight.' Alfred ended the call.

Silence rung in the batcave and in the high rise of Gotham. Both had heard the emotion in Ryan's voice. Bruce was contemplating it, studying it from memory while Alfred waited patiently for the more reliable judgement.

'She'll think it's unnecessary,' Batman said.

'But you'll go, sir?'

'Mm.'

Bruce arrived back in the batcave within ten minutes, changed into a suit and drove the Lamborghini to my house, ringing the doorbell.

The lift doors opened and he stepped in, not know what he'd find. He checked the time. 2:58AM.

The penthouse was mostly dark, save for one light under which had previously sat a nervous Ryan, who was hovering by the lift doors.

'I'm so sorry to bother you, it's just she won't let me out of the house and I'm worried about her.'

Bruce sauntered into the penthouse, looking around. 'I was nearby, anyway. New lounge opened in that old hotel.'

'Ah… I see.'

Bruce decided that Ryan was indeed the more pressing issue and sat down in front of the fire place. 'You worry about her a lot?'

Ryan stood awkwardly, shyly. 'Uh… yeah. I don't know if this is too personal a topic, Mr Wayne, but…'

Bruce blinked. 'Go on.'

'Well, everyone knows your story. And… Evelyn's is…' he stopped himself.

'I know about Jordan,' Bruce comforted quietly.

Ryan blinked, shocked. 'W-well, uh. I think you share some similarities with Evelyn. I know you, uh, lost everything as a child. Something, I don't remember what, I was younger than three, happened to me, and ever since then I've felt safe, truly safe, only around Evelyn.'

Bruce listened, lounging on the chair.

'She became the protector. She learnt martial arts, she followed the news, she focused more on being able to defend herself and those she loves than spending any actual focus on her own self.'

Bruce tilted his head. Ryan would have had to be incredibly shaken to be talking like this. All he was hearing was confirmation of things that fitted so perfectly into what he already knew about me.

'And then… her heart kind of… it…it got destroyed.' A tear fell from Ryan's eye. 'Jordan, was…' he steadied himself with a breath. 'Evelyn spent half her twenties saving me from my grief. But it's still in her, and it's not the type that can really fade. Essentially her little sister, the person I loved most in the entire world, and she found her on the road after being pushed from an apartment block.'

Bruce didn't know I'd been there in time to actually see her.

'Evelyn has always protected me, and to have someone you'd die for but not be given the chance to… she hates it. She lived on, of course. And she wouldn't say it haunts her, but I would call it that.

'Since she was a child she took protecting over herself. My sister has always been… I don't know what the word is, but you know what she's like; she didn't even ever bother to buy herself a decent house.'

Bruce blinked slowly. 'Video games are what makes her happy. Video games, martial arts, and thinking, be it scientific or otherwise.'

'Yes, but…' Ryan sighed, flicking his fingertips through his hair. 'I found out today she doesn't own a necklace, even though she loves jewellery, she loves the artistry of it. It's not that she's blindingly selfless. But she's… I don't think I've ever seen her really… no, deeply think about herself. Video games are fun, science, engineering, is fun. She eats healthy and exercises because martial arts are fun. But I've never seen her do anything else. She spent half her twenties saving me from my grief, but it still lives in her. I know, it always will.

'I don't know what exactly I'd do if someone asked me what I want to change. I just wish she was happier. She's always been fading.'

'You'd never think that by looking at her,' Bruce remarked, feigning surprise.

Ryan smiled. 'I'm sure after meeting you, a lot of people forget about your story, as well, Mr Wayne.'

Bruce smiled back, impressed by the wisdom, and telling Ryan it was okay.

'She even would go through hell and back to spare us the pain of losing her.'

'She wouldn't throw everything away,' Bruce realised.

Ryan was surprised by this remark, especially by how alarmed it made him. 'Never.'

My earlier beat-up in the bunker to try and get him to take better care of himself suddenly made more sense. Alfred's words came back to haunt him, chilling him to the bone. "I have not heard Evelyn laugh like she used to in six months. Neither have you.… …fading, like colours in the sun."

He looked at Ryan, suddenly very worried about the man losing the sister whom he loved very much. 'What did she say when she came home?' he frowned.

'Not a lot. I know she went to meet Harvey Dent.' Ryan panicked. 'Do you think he asked about her story?'

Dread filled Bruce again, only for a moment, much like it had at the table. 'I think so. But she's not the type to go drinking after something like that, is she?'

He merely pretended to listen to Ryan's confirmative response, still frowning as he tried to think.

'Did she say anything before she left?'

'Only to answer her phone if it was someone I was allowed to talk to.' He looked out of the window. 'She could be anywhere in the whole city by now. In the cold.'

That was Bruce's cue, before Ryan started spiralling. 'Did she happen to be wearing her bracelet?'

'The silver one? Yes, I saw her putting it on.'

Bruce smiled. 'I'll find her.'

Ryan sighed, relieved. 'Thank you. Thank you so much, Mr Wayne. I know she can take care of herself, but… well. She's done a lot for me. She's my big sister.'

Bruce left, smile fading, a tight pressure behind his eyes.

He got into his car. 'Alfred?'

'Sir?'

'I need you to trace Evelyn's bracelet.'

'I already have, sir, it seems she is in the lounge opposite Raw.'

'Raw?' Bruce echoed, remembering how cross I was at being left out.

'Estimate drive is less than five minutes.'

The drive was indeed short, and Bruce parked, looking around. He found the lounge and walked in, avoiding the security cameras and the staff.

After searching for a considerable amount of time, he reached the back of the building, and of course, in the corner, in a hidey-hole, there I was, a small empty bottle of some description on the floor by my feet, another on a small table, a small wine glass in my hand filled with white wine, staring at the table looking rather dark.

Bruce approached with caution. 'Evelyn?'

I blinked, head swirling around at a strange angle to look at him. 'Bruce?'

'Your brother rang me. You've been out nearly eight hours.'

I switched to the same weird angle on the other side, blinking with a dull expression. 'Did you tell him that I'd be fine?'

'I did, yes. But he still worried.' He stood there for a moment longer before walking next to me and putting his hands down on my shoulders, pulling me slightly toward him. 'I'm sorry.'

I slowly raised my head to study him. 'What on Earth for?'

'A lot of things,' Bruce replied pensively, remorsefully, and then sat down on the one other chair in the corner opposite me. 'Why aren't you using this time to catch up on sleep? Something tells me you haven't been dying to go drinking the whole month.'

'Dent made ice,' I shrugged, finishing the glass. I put it back on the table and refilled it with ease.

Bruce deciphered that. 'Is that all? Are you alright?'

I looked at him, for a long time, face becoming more and more regretful and despondent. 'Well,' I said with a casual air, pausing to nervously drain the next glass, 'I may have also just ruined your life.'

'There's not a lot to ruin,' Bruce offered.

'I know,' I responded, and then winced, putting my head down and a hand in my hair, groaning. 'I know~.'

Bruce couldn't find much to do in response, and so the silence while I made minimal movement continued.

'And I'd do it again,' I added miserably, lifting my head away from my hand.

'I'm sure, whatever it is, you were protecting me,' Bruce said with a warm smile. A quiet, genuine one. I didn't really notice.

'Protecting? Have you been talking to Ryan?'

'Only a little.'

'Even Alfred wants me to laugh,' I said, void.

'Did he tell you that?' Bruce asked in surprise.

'No,' I said, brows raising as I stared at the floor, impressed and also surprised. 'I didn't know I'd noticed that,' I remarked, half to myself.

The corner of Bruce's mouth twitched as he smiled at my mind. 'So you had that bad conversation with Dent making ice, and then ruined my life-,' he paused for a second, remembering Rachel going after me and coming back upset, 'and decided to just walk out of the house?'

'It was quite a big ruin,' I explained, offering Bruce the bottle to take away from my automatic reach. 'You don't plan on going home?'

'Not while you're here. You?'

'I tried a couple of hours back, but incredibly, I can barely feel my legs.'

That sent Bruce into focus. 'Did you fall?'

'No. I'd like to sleep, though.'

'Is your tab settled?'

'Of course. You know me.'

'Hm! I've yet to know you even tipsy.'

'I don't know what I am,' I considered, fighting my eyes open and rolling my shoulder, 'I could probably still take you down, but my vision is shit.'

'I should get you home,' Bruce decided, and then stood up. 'Can you stand?'

'What a wonderful question,' I grumbled, and pushed myself off the chair. 'Apparently.'

'Well, that's something. Can you walk?'

I took a step forward. 'Not brilliantly,' I said, and closed my eyes. 'I think I'm more sleep deprived than drunk.'

'So naturally you go out until… a quarter past three in the morning.'

'Don't you lecture me about taking care of yourself,' I said, opening my eyes to narrow them at him.

Bruce fell solemn. 'Yeah. I'm sorry.'

I raised my head to consider him properly in surprise. 'Huh?'

'You were right, I'm sorry.'

I blinked, looked away, nodding slowly to myself, then looked back after I'd finished thinking to give him a pleased, content look, before blinking away again.

'Will you listen to me, now?' he asked.

'Hm!'

In response, Bruce stepped beside me, hovering an arm nearby.

He navigated back through the lounge, avoiding the staff and cameras again.

I stopped dead when we got outside and gasped. 'The Lamborghini,' I whispered, reaching out toward it in wonder.

Bruce, eyes twinkling with amusement, unlocked it and made to walk around to the driver's side, halting in his tracks when he realised I hadn't moved. 'Evelyn.'

'Hm? Oh.' I put my hand down and approached the car, glaring at the low-down door. Bruce noticed and hovered rather like Alfred, watching me.

I tripped down the curb, easily able to steady myself as a hand immediately was placed between my shoulders, pushing to keep me upright. I whacked a hand on his arm as thanks and got into the car, going straight to studying the buttons and dials.

'Have you never been in here?' Bruce asked, getting in.

'No,' I replied, preoccupied.

He started the engine and began the drive back. The fast-moving lights and city annoyed my eyes, so I closed them.

Within five minutes, Bruce brought the Lamborghini down into the penthouse garage and turned the engine off, focused on me and sighed. At least I was finally asleep.

He got out, opened the passenger door and tilted his head, folding his arms. This was the second time he'd had to carry me, and both times it was because I'd pushed myself to exhaustion.

The lift opened immediately and Bruce stood as still as he could as the lift tried to pull his balance in different directions.

When the doors opened to reveal the penthouse, the lights were the same as they had been before, and Ryan's head whipped round at the sound of the doors, jumping from the chair.

'Evelyn?' he asked, seeing Bruce.

He panicked and raced over when he saw I wasn't awake. 'Evelyn?!'

'She fine,' Bruce soothed, 'she only fell asleep because I drove.' He stood, holding his arms out further. 'One sister.'

Ryan smiled and then nervously, awkwardly chuckled. 'I, uh, there's a lot of muscle mass on her; I think I'd drop her.'

Bruce stared at him for a fraction and then let it go, walking up the stairs to my room.

The footsteps woke me up and I opened my eyes. I moved to glare at Ryan. 'Next time, though I doubt there'll be one, don't panic like a baby. Bruce has a thousand better things to do.'

Bruce looked down for a moment before we reached my room. Ryan opened the door, already working on being an angel until my anger had passed and stood aside.

'And you! shouldn't have come, either.'

'I know. I did it for Ryan.'

'Don't we all.'

Bruce leant over, tilting me down until I landed on my feet. 'There are no meetings today, just stay in bed.'

'Yeah, you too,' I grumbled.

'I will,' he promised.

I clapped a hand on his shoulder as he began to leave and, after another glare at Ryan, went into the bathroom, forced myself into autopilot to clean my teeth and get changed and then fell onto the bed.