Happy holidays!

Here is my gift to you.

Thank you as always to those that love this story.

'Gordon,' Dent greeted happily when his visitor walked through the door to his ward. His back hurt, and some places in his arms and legs, but was sitting up anyway, flicking through the news and reports on his lap. The sun shone through the blinds in his hospital room.

'Shouldn't you be getting a bit more rest?' Gordon asked gently. There was a great strain in him, he walked tensely and his shoulders didn't sit right.

'Couldn't sleep,' Dent replied, recognising and identifying with the tight details he saw in Gordon. 'Rachel's distraught, no one's able to tell her anything about what happened to Thunder. She saved her life, I wish I knew.'

Gordon sat down on the chair beside the bed.

'What did you see?' Dent asked, muting the TV.

Gordon shook his head slowly, gesturing that he didn't have much to tell. 'The last I saw was Batman arriving. A minute or so later, the bike he came on blew up. Their car, if that's what we're calling it, was gone. No one saw anything of either of them since Batman ran into the fire. Neither of them have contacted me. As of right now, we don't know their location.'

Dent nodded slowly, processing.

'As you know, Rachel said Thunder was in the building when it blew. The blast wiped out everything in there to ashes; it's possible Batman was unable to find a body. When the fires were put out and daybreak came and we could see, there was no sign of a body and no sign of where one could have been.'

Dent sighed quietly, but it still sounded loud in the room.

Alfred found Bruce in the Batcave, unnecessarily painting over tiny scuffs on the front of the tumbler.

Every single project or chore that needed to be done around the cave was finished, even Alfred's tidying up, and unable to find any more tasks to do Bruce had persistently invented more.

'Dr Pendragon's condition is…' Alfred couldn't find the word.

'Is she breathing?' Bruce croaked flatly, dead.

'Yes, sir, she is.' The records he had accessed minutes earlier were inconclusive due to lack of consciousness since admission. That was the only information Alfred had to give.

That's when a breath left Bruce that Alfred felt similar to his own those few minutes earlier.

Bruce closed his eyes, hanging his head slightly. He stayed like that for a long time before his neck rolled backward and he was staring at where the wall met the roof on the far wall, over the water.

'If Evelyn were the one here, she wouldn't blame herself,' Alfred began, stepping forward a little and preparing to once again support Bruce.

'It wouldn't have been her fault.'

'It is the victim, Master Wayne, that has the first call to decide blame. She,' he stepped forward again and spoke quietly and plainly, 'will never blame you.' Alfred looked so sure.

'Even victims can be wrong.'

'She wouldn't be sir.'

Bruce grimaced. 'The Joker saw how I protected Rachel at the fundraiser. He knew…' he shook his head, diminished. 'He knew I would go after Rachel. He tried to kill them both. He nearly succeeded.'

'He was trying to break you all, sir,' Alfred replied simply. 'And it's a credit to Dr Evelyn that her and Miss Dawes are still breathing.

'I keep thinking it's because it was Rachel,' Bruce admitted, head turning quickly to look around at Alfred. 'Evelyn would have done anything to save Rachel, for me.'

'Evelyn is not one to throw her life away, sir,' Alfred agreed solemnly. 'But she would have done the exact same had she been faced with Harvey Dent.' He sounded so sure.

Both knew this, but Bruce had to hear it. 'It should have been me,' he said finally, very quietly, gentle remorse wafting through the room, wishing we could trade places. His skin began to crawl.

'Maybe so, sir, I'm sure with you in the hospital, Dr Pendragon would be in the bunker right now researching or investigating who picked up Harvey Dent and Rachel, but that is no longer something we can change. She wouldn't blame herself.

'I have no doubt, of course,' he continued, taking a step forward, beginning to sound normal again, 'that she is the better choice to cope with this turn of events. But Madam Evelyn isn't here. We have you.'

Alfred kept the silence, knowing Bruce would react in his own time.

Bruce was scared, he was very scared. Knowing I was still alive eased the fear a little, but it felt superficial, there was no telling how long it might last.

He took the time to acknowledge that for the foreseeable future this was his reality. And no matter how hard he wanted to; he couldn't trade places. For now, even though I would be better at what he was facing, he would have to do it.

Alfred spoke when Bruce turned. 'Harvey Dent is being treated for his wounds, also in Gotham General, they have successfully removed all shrapnel from the explosion. And Miss Dawes has been released with only minor injuries, I have directed her to Dr Pendragon's penthouse for the time being for her safety but have not notified her of what happened after the explosion regarding Madam Evelyn.'

'And the Joker?' Bruce's tone was level, controlled and focused.

'I'm not sure, sir. But you should see this.' Alfred directed him to a TV and switched the channels through until the screen showed Mike Engel and Mr Reese. The True Identity of Batman and Thunder Revealed was the headline along the bottom of the screen.

Bruce drew in a long, steeling breath and waited, most of what they were saying going through his head, unimportant. Reese would do anything for money, revenge, he wasn't important. They took the first caller.

Bruce sat down on the chair at the screen and Alfred perched on the worktable beside it.

'Harvey Dent didn't wanna give in to this maniac, you think you know better than him?' said the caller.

Bruce didn't have the time or energy capacity to weigh the previous events of Harvey Dent knowing better than to give in to a maniac. He eyed Reese closely.

His former employee replied in a smooth tone. 'I think that if we could talk to Dent today he may feel differently-,' he was cut off by Mike Engel wishing Dent a speedy recovery.

The next caller was put through and Bruce thought about Reese's words. They weren't what he truly believed, but there might have been truth to them anyway. After Rachel nearly getting blown up, and Thunder's disappearance and condition, Dent might have lost his drive or nerve.

Then a voice came from the next call that made the whole of Gotham watching freeze. Bruce's eyes hardened further, suddenly feeling the weight of his solitude with the lack of my presence. "Here, we, go," the atmosphere seemed to say.

'I had a vision of a world without Batman and Thunder. The mob would ground out a little profit, and the police trying to shut them down, one block at a time. And it was so… boring.' He spoke like it was rather quaint. Bruce remembered how the Joker had said Batman and Thunder completed him, gave him something to do. He'd had the Joker right in front of his bike and still not broken the one rule. Clearly the Joker was even more enthused than before. 'I've had a change of heart. I don't want Mr Reese spoiling everything, but why should I have all the fun?' It sounded like he was genuinely asking. 'Let's give someone else a chance! If Coleman Reese isn't dead in sixty minutes then I blow up a hospital.'

The call disconnected, the cameras shook and the studio was moving. Bruce and Alfred were moving faster, fear trying to grip them at the thought of me now in further danger. Bruce rose from his seat, walking to the lift back into the Manor. They had multiple factors of the new chaos to deal with. 'Gordon will be evacuating hospitals as we speak, there's nothing we can do for Evelyn now apart from monitoring where she'll be evacuated to. I want you plugged in, keep an eye on the evacuations and checking Gordon's men and their families.'

'Looking for…?' Alfred called after him, taking his spot at the computers.

'Hospital admissions.' Bruce searched the table for a couple of gadgets and slipped them into his pockets.

Alfred glanced at Bruce's route, straight past Batman's suit. 'Will you be wanting the batpod, sir?'

Bruce fixed his suit and looked up, pulling the lever on the lift. 'Middle of the day, Alfred, not very subtle.'

'The Lamborghini, then,' Alfred nodded. 'Much more subtle,' he muttered, wishing I'd left the Mercedes at Wayne Manor for whatever reason.

He set to work as Bruce powered through Wayne Manor, seizing the keys and barrelling down the driveway.

The kind of sleep that reminds you of a computer being unplugged at the wall, completely disconnected and quiet.

It was disturbed as noise and chaos drifted through the door to connect consciousness together.

I stirred. I was warm. In a bed. I ached all over. Slowly, my eyes opened. I was in a hospital. I twisted slightly to bend my legs from the straight lie.

How did I get here? Gordon? The police? How many people knew who I was? I was sure Rachel made it out…Did Harvey? Did Batman get Harvey out? Did Bruce get out?

Please tell me he's fine. I shut my eyes for a second.

The last thing I remembered was running through a hole I blew in the wall. My spine had chills creeping up and down, tingling at the nape of my neck at the unknowns.

With a glare at the IV drip in my arm, I pulled the blanket back. Shit.

I was in a hospital gown. Of course I was. Shit. Where was the suit?!

I waited a second and couldn't feel any surface wounds. Deeming it safe to sit up, I reached for the chart at the end of my bed, glancing at the band on my wrist.

Name and date of birth was left blank. Well that was a good sign, at least. So was the lack of handcuffs.

I checked the hospital, Gotham General, on the chart and began to read. I was right. No surgery. Unidentified hit and run… Whoever put me in here clearly had a brain.

Strong physical condition… condition not completely consistent with hit and run… … shit. Of course it wasn't. I'd been blown up with a building, but in a Kevlar suit.

Resuscitation… Stable… No sign of concussion… I raised my eyebrows at that, surprised. I tried to remember what I did but couldn't. I assumed I'd caged my head with my arms in time. It would certainly explain the jolting, stiff pain in my arms.

Okay. Drawing on my knowledge of biology, I deciphered the chart. As long as I avoided strenuous activity, I'd be fine. Excellent news. I had to break out of the hospital.

I turned on the TV, intending to check a news channel to find the date, but found nothing but panic and emergency reports. What was…?

'-are all evacuating as we speak. Patients will be kept at a safe distance until it is determined that the Joker's threat no longer holds. We're joined now in the field by Tony Hutchins. Tony.'

'I'm outside Gotham General as hundreds of patients and staff are beginning to be evacuated. The police have assured me of the safety of DA Harvey Dent, who sustained minor injuries-,'

Enough information. The Joker threatened to blow up a hospital. Dent was also at Gotham General. I could take a pretty good guess which one was about to go up.

I had to move, now. Judging by the chaos outside, no one would notice anything wrong with a heart rate monitor going off, they probably all were. I ripped the IV needle out and threw the heart rate monitor off my finger. I swept the room and found my clothes with a sigh of relief.

It wasn't like they were part of the suit, really, they were just very expensive and hard to get. I found hospital slippers and put them on, grimacing. They weren't clothes, really. They definitely looked like under layers.

I needed proper clothes. I wouldn't make it far looking like a hospital evacuee in the streets of Gotham. The chaos would work to my advantage. I pulled my hair around over my face in the best attempt I could to alter my appearance and when a suitable level of noise was reached, slipped out into the corridor.

Sticking to the edges and trying my hardest to blend in, I located an office and grabbed a thigh-length long light brown jacket that matched the black of my pants and a pair of black ballet flats. There were no phones left in the office and I didn't have time to check further, judging by the noise levels, this ward was nearly done evacuating.

I had to find Dent.

Bruce expertly directed the Lamborghini over the roads. The city was in chaos when he reached it in record time. He weaved through the traffic with a hardened focus.

'Hospital evacuation is underway, sir. The priority is Gotham General.'

That brought them some comfort.

Bruce reached the studio and circled past the entrance, past a sea of mad crowd, struggling police officers. Inside was Reese, Mike Engel, a camera crew and Gordon with some of his officers. 'I see O'Brian and Richards.'

'No immediate family member admitted to a Gotham hospital.'

'I think I saw Berg as well.'

'Wife admitted to Gotham General,' Alfred said.

Bruce moved his eyes away from Reese and back from the road, allowing himself a moment to dislike the fact he was saving the man who had put me in danger from the Gotham public instead of rushing to Gotham General. Holding his nerve was beginning to feel like there were ants crawling over him.

He drove around the back and watched the police convoy usher Reese into a black van with a police car in front and behind. He waited a minute once they had driven off and looped around at high speed after them. 'I saw Burns and Zachary.'

'Gotham General evacuation currently underway,' Alfred reported and turned his attention to the GCPD list. 'Nothing on them…'

'And a patrolman I don't know. Send Gordon the information and find out where are they taking the majority of Gotham General's immediate danger patients?'

'Patients on life support are being directed to general practices.'

Bruce absorbed the information and slowed to stay behind the convoy. They had stopped for the lights and Bruce looked around.

A dark truck was revving its engine.

Keeping his eyes out for anything else, he monitored the driver's expression closely.

As the lights changed, the truck surged forward toward the van. Bruce slammed on the accelerator and braced for the impact.

Smash.

Gordon emerged from the van yelling orders, running to the side of the van, gaped at the ruined Lamborghini for a moment and began to instruct his officers. Then he looked down as a rich billionaire appeared undamaged but dazed through the ruined door of his expensive Lamborghini.

Gordon approached. 'It's Mr Wayne, isn't it?' he began to be polite.

Bruce glanced up at him, rubbing the back of his neck and very aware of his ears listening closely to his entire surroundings.

'That's a very brave thing you did,' Gordon remarked, congratulatory.

'Trying to catch the light?' Bruce frowned and looked up, perfectly perplexed.

'Wh- you weren't protecting the van?' Gordon asked, shocked.

Bruce pulled a very convincing ignorant face. 'Why, who's in it?'

He turned to look as Reese was escorted out of the van. The man stared at him.

Unable to keep all of his resentment from his expression since they were waiting to hear which hospital was blowing up, Bruce gave him a small nod. He rubbed the back of his neck again. 'Don't you think I should go to the hospital?'

Gordon paused. 'You don't watch a whole lot of news, do you, Mr Wayne?'

Suddenly, with nothing else to do, Bruce really missed my presence, wishing I was there to laugh on both our behalves.

I buttoned the jacket up to a high collar and tied the belt as best I could and stepped back out, immediately veering away from an oncoming doctor and back the way I'd come.

Dent could be anywhere. Deciding to trust the coat, I flicked my hair around stylishly, also covering more of my face, and ran to a head nurse.

'Major Crimes Unit, here for Dent,' I said shortly, keeping my head moving.

She appreciated the lack of waffle and pointed me in the right direction. I followed her directions, the hospital getting more and more deserted as I went, until there was no more noise and I nearly walked past his room, expecting to see police officers. I only just caught the name in time.

I opened the door carefully, darting my head in for a second and then stepping inside. Given the lack of people around, I didn't expect to see him still there, asleep.

The news had said minor injuries. I stared in horror at him. What happened? What happened to Bruce?

I stepped into the shadows and circled around him. That's when I saw the fresh wound on the side of his head. He'd been attacked. Asking about Batman would have to wait. And then I saw the bloody nurse lying on the floor, hidden from the door. I immediately bent beside her. No pulse.

I dove forward, tied a bandage around Dent's eyes and threw the blanket from the bed. I was right. He was tied by the wrists and ankles to the bed, even with a strap on his torso tying him down. There was a beeping coming from under his bed.

The strap over the torso was the easiest thing to get off, but I struggled on the cuffs. I let out a frustrated yell and dove to the window. Evacuation was finished.

Behind me I heard a grunt as he woke from the disturbance and then yelling. 'Back for more?! You must have a death wish, you coward! Don't you touch her!'

His head moved wildly.

I ducked down to look under the bed, unsurprised, nearly fed-up, to find a bomb.

'Come on! Where are you, you clown?!'

I didn't like the feeling those words put on my spine.

'Face me! Don't you dare touch Rachel!'

Then it made sense. In case Harvey escaped, the Joker was trying to make him paranoid. I used Thunder's voice. 'Breathe.'

He stilled immediately. 'You're alive… …' he breathed in shock. 'He's here. This is the hospital,' he panted, sitting up now that his torso was free. 'The Joker's blowing this one.'

Confirmation was, in that moment, not helpful. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. I suddenly didn't like all the walls looking at me. I didn't like not being able to see the door properly, either.

I hadn't taken his blindfold off. He made an educated guess. 'You're not in the suit?'

'No. What did he say?' I studied the knot. Each strap went down under the bed, tied under the bomb. Of course.

'Had his men tie me up. He threatened Rachel, he…'

'What else?' I dragged his attention on before he got stuck on Rachel.

'He said somethings about… fair, safety and plans,' he spat. 'Where's Rachel, is she still safe?'

I didn't answer, since I had no idea, and he surprisingly didn't complain. "Still safe…" she'd gotten out. I smiled, and it faded as quickly as it had come.

He could sense my frustration as I failed undoing the thick fabric. 'Go.'

I kept trying, barely listening.

'You're better for this city than I am, you can't die here, go!' he yelled angrily, jerking his wrist away from my hands, head pointing close to where I was.

This was the second time in around sixteen hours, that I'd been told to leave while in a building about to explode. I didn't like where it was going.

I nearly grabbed his arm back again on instinct, but remembered I wasn't wearing gloves. I also stopped the frustration that wanted to escape out of me. 'When your temper isn't around, you're good for Gotham, too,' I growled back, staring him down.

Through the blindfold he could feel my angry stare. He wrestled his thoughts for a moment, then gave in, knowing he couldn't make me leave no matter how hard he tried.

'Don't you have anyone that'll miss you if you go sky high?' he relented, moving his wrist back to where it had been before.

Before my mind could react to that question I threw it out of my head. 'The person that will miss you is alive thanks to me. Trust that I'll get you out alive, too.'

Finally he calmed. And then remembered. 'Thank you… I have to say this now, we may never get another chance, thank you for saving Rachel. I know you did it for Gotham, but…'

If only he knew. That the odd scientist he'd met on a couple of occasions saved his fiancé. And was saving him.

I got one ankle free.

I decided I could let him know slightly. 'I don't have to fight alone thanks to you.'

He understood that I did it partly for him and quietened, working on trying to undo his other wrist.

'I'm sorry...'

About what? My blood froze. I couldn't ask, this wasn't the time, we had to get out. 'Help me save Gotham.'

Then a twang sound came from the bomb under the bed and I recoiled on instinct several paces back. The rest of the straps on Dent came free from where they were tied underneath. Dent was supposed to escape, but only after the Joker had put the fear of god into him.

That… while I was marshalling an army of curses and swears in my head at the Joker as I recovered, Dent, forgetting in his panic, reached for his blind fold.

'Wai-,' I started, but he didn't register in time. I dove out of the door into the opposite room.

I was gone by the time he opened his eyes.

I heard his footsteps in the corridor. He stopped, looked around and figured out the nearest exit, sprinting away.

I ran in the other direction, away from people outside. It was at the other end of the building. I was nearly there, confident Harvey was out, when it was too late. The first room blew and I ducked as I ran, pushing through the corridor as small explosives rang around the building.

I reached an exit door, kicked it open and sprinted over the grass, nearing the end of the hospital grounds.

At least this time I didn't have to worry about the blast or shock waves.

Suddenly everything went quiet and I threw my head down, behind my arms. I was thrown forwards off balance and heat blasted my back, as did a sharp pain in my shoulder as the hospital went up in flames.

Exhausted, I slumped to the ground.

Further into Gotham, Bruce and Gordon looked up at the noise.

Bruce worked it out first and lowered his gaze in shock. That's where I'd been.

Assuming I'd been evacuated, there was little reason not to, he reminded himself quickly, I was now being transferred to another hospital.

'South east…,' Gordon muttered. 'It's Gotham General.'

Bruce glanced at Gordon for a second, aware he was worrying about Harvey Dent. He took a few breaths and calmed himself down. Trying to keep track of an unidentified, unconscious emergency patient from a frantically evacuated hospital was a task that filled him with dread.

Gordon walked away and pressed his radio. 'Did you clear the building?'

My ears were ringing slightly as I winced and pushed myself back up.

I crouched and angrily pulled the debris from my shoulder, muscles strained like a sprinter before a race. Upon noticing this, my resolve hardened. If I had to sprint, to bleed, to push beyond my limits for Gotham, then so be it.

The Joker wasn't wrong. The world was twisted and cruel and made no sense. I knew that well.

But that didn't give anyone the right to make it worse.

I looked up, and through the strands of hair hanging over my eyes I could see the smoke, the fire of buildings that had been touched by the explosion. I could see a skyline of glittering buildings, of the city I called home. I stood and put a hand over my dripping shoulder.

With all the commotion, one missing, unidentified person would fade away easily within a day. What I couldn't erase, however, was the sight of the wet blood pouring through my shirt and coat, my exhaustion and the lack of transport, money or communication.

I looked around.

There was an ambulance with its windows blown out not far away. I made it over, opened the door through the broken window and opened the back, climbing in as sirens and fire filled the air. I didn't have long.

I failed to find a local anaesthetic, swore, grabbed a bandage and ran.

Once clear of the hospital's line of sight I slowed to a walk and wrapped the bandage around my shoulder under the coat.

I did the calculations and figured the closest places I could go were my house and Wayne Enterprises. Neither of them were nearby, but my house was closer.

The last thing I needed was to pass out on a Gotham Street in the chaos of the Joker.

Gordon's tense pacing brought him back toward the wreck as he hurried his orders and sent for another police car to take him to the scene and Bruce's phone rang. He frowned at the ID and leant back a little into his ruined car to hide the conversation. 'Alfred?'

'The initial counts have been put through, sir. Final evacuation headcount of Gotham General is fifty-two missing.. Among the fifty-two is a hit and run patient, admitted yesterday.'

Bruce stopped dead in his small movements.

'Hello?' Gordon's brow creased. 'Dent? Is that you?'

Bruce, completely frozen, forced himself to listen to Gordon's radio.

Dent spoke, panting. 'Gordon. I saw a bus leaving later than the others, get your men to track it down. The Joker was here.'

'Okay. How do you know, did he talk to you?'

'Yeah. The son of a bitch tied me up and gave me about thirty seconds to run. I'm only… Thunder was here. I only just got out in time.'

'Evelyn…' Bruce breathed in his head. I'd woken up. I was there when it blew up. He stood up and began to leave the crash site. 'Thunder saved Harvey Dent no more than a minute before Gotham General blew up,' he murmured carefully into the phone to Alfred.

'I- I see.… … Are you alright, sir?' Neither of them were, but it was the only thing Alfred could think of to say.

'At least she's not on the missing bus.'

'Quite so, sir. And I have one missed call from Ryan Pendragon,' Alfred reported. 'It rang for less than a second.'

Bruce's wince worsened. 'Probably wondering where Evelyn is,' he said stiffly. 'Call him back, tell him if I see her we'll let him know. Make sure he stays wherever he is if it's safe.'

'Very well, sir,' Alfred replied curtly.

'Keep an eye on the reports from Gotham General in case anyone is discovered in the debris. I'll search for her.' He started south east as Gordon dove into a police car and headed for the wreckage.

Funny thing about adrenaline. It wears off when you know you're safe, no matter how much you'd like to go that distance further. Of course, I wasn't safe, but I was safer than I had been when the adrenaline had come, and that was all I had left. Considering the last twenty-four hours, it was impressive I'd gotten this far.

The pain in my shoulder was starting to spike, and I hunched further over. Dammit. I wasn't making it much further than this.

Blown up twice by the Joker, in the space of a few hours. No wonder Alfred was convinced we'd end up dead.

I'd used everything, should I miraculously walk into another of the Joker's plans as I dragged myself through the panicking streets, it was anyone's guess how I'd handle it.

I shut out everything and focused on moving my feet.

I wanted to think about Ryan, if he was still in my house, trusting he'd be safe there. I wanted to think about Dad, if at the news that the Joker was going to blow up a hospital he'd rushed to Ryan, both safe in my home.

I wanted to think about Harvey, if he had the strength to keep fighting, and Rachel, as far as I knew she didn't know I was alive. I'd given my life to save her. How would she be feeling?

And Alfred… we were both in so much danger before. Did he know I was still breathing?

I didn't want to think about Bruce. I didn't want to know. If it wasn't anything that I'd want to hear, then right then I couldn't know the truth. Not if I wanted to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

There was no call from Alfred, which was neutral. He hoped for one type of news, but he was glad of the absence of the other.

Sirens were everywhere, people looking around in panic, rumours and confusion flying.

He saw a few people with injuries and kept his eyes open for hospital gowns just in case.

The Joker had riled the city up to an awkwardly unmanageable state, and Bruce had to cut, effortlessly, through crowds.

People recognised him, but the chaos was enough for them to leave him alone, without even a second glance.

I'd been forcing one more step for the last ten minutes, at some point beginning to clutch my shoulder. I hated the situation with a bitterness that seemed to be my greatest fuel.

Still heading toward Gotham General, Bruce wasn't aware of the speed he was moving at. He had figured my most likely route if I was moving and held his nerve the closer he got to the hospital, dreading the moment it came into sight. His eyes scanned everyone that he saw, in business suit or casual clothes, it didn't matter. He knew what he'd do if he were me; I could be anyone.

I looked through the frantic crowd ruling the streets, stumbling as someone brushed past me. I let out a yell and tumbled toward the ground. I caught my balance in time and forced another step.

The crowd made it nearly impossible for me to move without getting whacked and jolted and shoved. I dealt with it as best I could and kept my eyes up to avoid as many as I could. And through the tsunami of chaos I kept walking.

Someone ahead of me moved out of the way and for a second my eyes met familiar ones.

Tears filled my eyes and I moved forward, propelled no longer by will but by some magnet, as Bruce pushed through the crowd, moving as quickly as we could, stumbling into a fall at the last step. We caught each other.

'Bruce…!' A grunt left us from the impact as we collided, throwing our arms over the other and holding tight.

There were tears in our eyes and we both welled them shut and sobs tore through me as I cried, so relieved to have him there, alive.

'Evelyn,' he croaked, our heads resting on shoulders and touching as the shoulders of our clothes became wet with the tears pouring from our eyes.

What we hadn't known as we ran out of the police station a few hours ago. Too much had happened.

With the presence of the other so close and anchored, our emotions calmed and without realising it we had begun to gently rock side to side as we melted into the warmth.

It was a long time before we moved more than that. I was alive to see Bruce alive. A different kind of relief to the one I'd felt the day before was overwhelming me. The same applied to Bruce.

When finally we loosened our grip I looked up to see an expression on Bruce's face that I had never seen. He looked free, despite the tears in his eyes and the echoes of torment still fading from his face.

Tears filled my eyes as my face twisted and smiled and crumpled as my muscles strained from the emotion, Bruce doing the same.

My head dropped onto his shoulder again for a moment and I closed my eyes as Bruce stooped the small gap between our heights and twisted apart to my left, leaving my uninjured arm over his shoulders as the other one fell away. I winced and left most of my weight on him.

Bruce kept a hold of my left arm with his and left his right around me.

We didn't move yet, Bruce instead putting his head against mine and closing his eyes.

Carefully he pulled nearly all of my weight onto him and I let my hair fall around my face, finally able to ignore the mess around me.

'What happened?'

He began to explain.

Gordon glanced yet again at the rubble and clearing dust of what was once Gotham General Hospital. Harvey Dent was in a shock blanket and drinking water nearby sitting on a table with a nurse monitoring him.

'That son of a bitch,' Gordon muttered.

'He doesn't shut up,' Dent said angrily, his eyes jumping around from person to person, noise to noise. 'Still no word on the missing bus?'

Gordon shook his head. 'Not a thing. I'm sure soon enough we'll hear from the Joker. In the meantime, we'll keep trying to find them, reassign the Gotham General patients to new hospitals and sweep the rest of them in case.'

Dent nodded. 'At least we know Thunder isn't dead,' he sighed. He called Rachel.

Finally we walked into the deserted foyer, Bruce's proximity key unlocking the lift, and collapsed in, despite both of my feet being on the ground Bruce was still taking most of my weight, and we were waiting in silence for the top floor to come into range.

I had no idea what Ryan and Dad had seen or heard, or what they were doing.

The doors opened and my eyes rolled back into focus.

No one in sight. At that moment it was a good thing.

But then Ryan's footsteps sounded quickly down the staircase, stopping halfway to see who had come in.

'Evelyn!' he grinned in relief. 'Thank god. You're okay. I saw the news, Gotham General, I knew you'd be fine, but still.' He started down the stairs.

I grimaced from both pain and the cold irony.

'I was nearby and didn't feel safe so I came here, I even rang Alfred…' he stopped talking. He had glanced a second time at us and noticed the way we were standing.

'Ryan,' I said, loud enough for him to hear, staring at the floor in front of Bruce.

'Yeah?' he responded quietly.

'If you can… not ask questions for a bit… And before you… don't… ask, do not call an ambulance.'

He looked away from the stairs. 'What?' He jumped the last few and ran toward me, skidding to a stop in his socks over the stone floor, eyes the red blotch, on my shoulder.

'What happene-…' he stopped and shook his head sharply while I raised a piercing gaze to him. 'Can I do anything?'

'Just…' I looked at his eyes, full of innocent concern, pleading to know what happened, earnestly wishing to know.

My shoulders sank, and Bruce, of course, noticed. He leant forward a bit to look at me. Unspoken tired agreement passed through our eyes.

I let out a deep breath and nodded at Ryan.

Bruce led us upstairs and Ryan followed as we went into the small sitting room.

Meekly, I reached out a hand. Seeing how much energy that took, Bruce moved us a little and slotted his own fingertips underneath the stylish wall overlay instead. It clicked open and Ryan blinked, stepping back to allow the door to open.

We ducked into the room and the door shut behind us.

Bruce carefully sat me down in the chair by the first aid table and set about going through the medical supplies.

Ryan stood back and helped me unwrap the bandages from my shoulder.

I looked at the gash in decent light for the first time since I got it. It wasn't that horrible, little more than a surface scratch over the top, but judging by Ryan's pale expression was not pleasing to look at.

Bruce turned around; needle threaded.

'You want to stitch this up?' I asked with a grimace at the awkward angle, looking up at him.

'Wouldn't you be better at it?'

I glanced between my shoulder and Bruce. 'Maybe.' I sat up, wincing in annoyance at the protests my shoulder gave.

Ryan stayed back. Just before I had finished setting up, wound clean, he stood up and found the small sink, filling a glass to the near brim.

I was about to put the sinister looking needle into my shoulder when the water appeared in front of me.

Suddenly feeling my brain click, I swapped the needle to my right hand and took the glass with my left, chugging the water in one breath. 'Thanks.'

Ryan stood back again. He managed a nod.

'So.' I looked away to pull the thread through. 'Got questions?'

I welcomed a distraction, something to keep me thinking. He picked up on it without a hitch.

'I'm guessing you're not in an underground fighting ring,' he said, looking slightly awkwardly around the room.

'It's partly your call whether or not to tell Dad,' I said to start with, looking back for another stitch, catching a slip in my voice just in time, 'Try not to- I can't reach this properly.' I shook my head in defeat and held the needle for Bruce to take over.

Ryan looked back at me with a crease between his eyebrows.

I glanced at the desk on the other side of the room as the needle went through again, this time Bruce's doing. '4470..'

My brother followed my line of sight and, after checking there was nothing else, entered the code I was saying onto what seemed to be spare keyboard in the corner of the desk. Four clicks sounded.

I pulled the thread through again. '3521…'

Click, click, click, click.

'9..816.' I winced as the thread tightened.

Click, click, click, click.

The wall slid open and one of three pairs of Thunder and Batman suits were revealed.

I was glad to look back at my shoulder for a moment as Bruce carefully pushed my arm into a different position, his face indifferent to everything else and preoccupied with trying to be neat.

Ryan's face faded to blank. He stared at the empty Thunder suit, slightly in awe of its presence, then his eyes moved to Batman's. I saw it dawn on him as he glanced across the room at Bruce.

I swallowed thickly and turned back to my shoulder, suddenly far happier to watch as Bruce carefully stitched it up, still ignoring whatever else was happening in the room with focused eyes.

Ryan waited until it was finished, spending the time examining the suits with intense curiosity.

When I flicked the needle through the air back onto the first aid table he carefully approached.

He crouched down and carefully hugged me, mindful of the wound in my shoulder.

He drew back enough to look me in the eye, smiled as best he could with the worry and shock still in him and then stood back to let me try to move. 'The explosion last night that nearly killed Rachel Dawes…'

"Don't even…" I managed to tell him with my eyes and a small incensed shake of my head as I moved toward the edge of the chair and rested my arms on my knees, looking at him seriously, as Bruce stood tall beside me. 'I still don't know entirely what happened.'

With the comprehension that I'd been caught at least slightly in the explosion, Ryan paled again and eyed the two of us, able to blink and see the suits out of the wall and on us. He swallowed, nodded and stepped back to get both of us in his vision, Bruce tall with his hands in his pockets, me still leaning on my knees on the chair.

Ryan frowned. 'Wait, where were you?'

'Gotham General.'

'Goth…' Ryan trailed off, glancing at Bruce, who, finally now completely in the open with Ryan, looked like a far greater person than he had even before.

We were still watching him with strong, mellow expressions.

Ryan smiled. He shone. His eyes were still filled with worry for my injury, but he beamed. He stepped forward and crouched down again, grabbing my hands from where they were hung between my knees. 'I love you.'

'I love you, too,' I smiled at him.

Ryan's face twitched, unable to beam further. 'I love you so much.'

I gave a happy short breath.

He stood up and looked at Bruce, who was watching him pleasantly with a warmth in his eyes. 'You're quite the actor…' he trailed off for a moment, '… Bruce.'

'Hm,' Bruce smiled.

Ryan then caught Bruce completely off guard as he opened his arms and gave him a hug.

I burst out in a laugh at the shock in Bruce's eyes and when I looked back he'd returned it. My laugh died away and I watched them with a warm smile.

Ryan was just under my height, so nearly reached Bruce's, but it was very obvious which one had the larger build when they hugged. With the few obvious exceptions like Alfred, Alice and Dad, they, those two, were everything. A part of me lived in them, and a part of them lived in me.

'Hang on,' Ryan said suddenly and pointed at me, 'that day I snuck up on you, you thought I was Bruce! That's who is stealthier than you!'

'Oh good, you told him,' I grumbled. 'I need to rest while we work. Ryan, you can't carry me so just get out of the way.'

Ryan glared at me playfully. 'Hey.' Then he remembered the night Bruce had brought me back when I went out drinking and went to hand me over and how he had to admit he couldn't carry me. He'd wondered then if Bruce Wayne was stronger than his suits made him look. 'Fair enough,' he sighed and stepped back.

Bruce leant down and picked me up from the chair, ducking out of the small room, telling Ryan how to close it.

He put me down carefully in the armchair in my study and went out of the room. Ryan sat on the chair at my desk and spun around energetically to face me.

'What happened at Gotham General?'

'Woke up, slipped out, sort of saved Harvey Dent, ran for it, hospital exploded, got something in my shoulder,' I reported, strangely unable to keep a straight face.

It sounded ridiculous. And with the threat of the Joker swimming somewhere out in Gotham below us, and the tension that had been in my mind for over twenty-four hours, Ryan was a break, a breath of fresh air that made my lips curl upward and my nose twitch as I tried not to laugh.

Ryan's face twitched, then he laughed, hanging his head in shame as we broke out in uncontrollable laughter.

Bruce came back with a spectacular double take. He stopped a few paces into the room, looked between us as we struggled to breathe and then out of the window as if asking the world what he was supposed to do with us.

As we slowly regained control, Bruce held glass of water and a packet of painkillers in front of me until he gave up and put them beside me and then unlocked my computer, effortlessly wheeling Ryan out of the way.

'Why are we like this?' Ryan gasped, voice quaking as he laughed.

'You started it,' I managed.

Ryan drew in a very long breath and calmed himself. 'Why are you so happy after getting blown up, anyway? The city's in chaos.'

'Met someone on my way home,' I replied with a grin and looked pointedly at Bruce's back.

'I take it last night was a mess,' Ryan questioned, turning his head to study Bruce for a second, looking back at me, waiting for an answer.

'You should call Alfred,' Bruce said suddenly. 'He should have seen us on security cameras but just in case.'

Ryan's eyes widened, looking at me to ask what on Earth happened.

'The whole of yesterday was a mess.' I automatically patted where my phone would be in my pocket and consequently became aware I was in a jacket I didn't own and it wasn't very comfortable. 'Dammit. Phone's in the bunker.'

Bruce calmly fished his phone out of his pocket and passed it over.

I called Alfred.

'I take it she's stitched up, sir?'

'Alfred.'

He went silent for a moment. 'Ah. It's good to hear your voice, Doctor Pendragon.' He sounded very happy, a little waver in his voice told him he may have leaked a tear or two.

I smiled. 'Oh, you too.'

'I shan't keep you but I'll see you soon enough, I'm sure.'

'I can't wait,' I replied with bared honesty.

'See you then.'

I hung up and passed Bruce's phone back. Alfred's sincerity and our brief but heavy conversation brought me back into focus.

'So what now?' Ryan asked as Bruce put his phone away with a small smile and I took the painkillers.

'We find the Joker.' I squirmed through my wet and filthy clothes. I groaned and tried to stand up. 'You help Bruce, I need a shower.'

'You're not going to pass out?' Ryan asked dubiously.

'Hopefully not,' I drawled, nearly giving up on heaving myself to a stand. 'But I can't stay in these clothes; it's only a matter of time before this gets infected.' I gestured to my shoulder.

Bruce ducked down and pulled my good arm over his shoulder again, pulling me up. 'Help her walk.'

Ryan immediately got out of the chair and took Bruce's place.

'Dent- Harvey- Dent,' I corrected with a shake of my head, getting the differences between Thunder mixed up in my fatigue and surroundings, 'said the Joker was going on about fairness and safety and plans. After that threat on blowing a hospital unless someone killed whoever,' I didn't bother to try and remember Reese's name, 'there's only so much more fear he can create. The next thing coming is something like Gotham General again. The whole city is riled enough to be involved.'

Bruce nodded, folding his arms as he thought. 'Okay. I'll check for that missing bus and start there.' He headed straight for the computers.

Ryan, typically a lot less gracefully than Bruce, helped me the rest of the way to my room and helped me get the coat off. 'Who's is this, anyway?'

'Someone from Gotham General. It would have been blown to ashes if I hadn't grabbed it; check the pockets and throw it out.'

He nodded, opened my bathroom door for me and carried the coat out.