haha... sorry for the two and a half (almost three) year wait... I'm not good at sticking to things and i am not proud of the fact :'')'' I MEAN ALL THESE CHAPTERS START WITH AN APOLOGY WTH

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx kisses to anyone still interested, i'm happy you're here

Gotham City Police Commissioner, Detective James Gordon was not amused.

Truthfully, Nelya and Blake weren't so giddy, either, going so far as hiding behind the couple in front of them and cringing away from the Commissioner's death-scowl when he finally spotted them.

"What in God's name were you jackasses doing in Russia." He ground out, still and stocky with unadulterated anger.

Wincing, Blake attempted contact, "Visiting the Kremlin...?"

"Jesus," he sighed, rubbing up his beard to his eye and displacing his thick-rimmed glasses. He looked pointedly at Nelya, "And you?"

"I wanted to...play in the snow," she pointed at Blake, "with him." She pointed at herself, "I won the snowball fight."

Gordon stared at her, fists on his hips, "You're lucky I like you."

Nelya grinned and intertwined her fingers with Blake's, "Very lucky, yeah."

Watching Blake smile down at Nelya, squeezing her hand, Gordon knew they were going to be alright. Even if they did look like shit. He sighed and took the half empty rucksack from Blake and started to walk in the direction of the exit. Over his shoulder, when they began to follow him, he said, "So... you two are a thing now?"

Blake nodded, meeting Nelya's eyes, "Guess we are."

"Good." Gordon smirked, "The boys owe me twenty bucks."

"What?" Nelya laughed.

Blake blinked, his mouth kicking up at one corner, "You put a bet on us?"

"Why the hell not?" Gordon looked back at them again, "You were pretty obvious about it, too."

All Nelya could do was blush and dip her head.

"Nel?"

"Hm...?"

"I can't breathe."

"Oh, shit, sorry." She chuckled, rolling off of him.

Fully clothed and dead-tired, Blake and Nelya had passed out on his couch together almost as soon as they got in. It would be another three hours into the night that they would wake. He sat up with her and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands, "I can't believe we're home."

She nodded and combed her fingers through his hair, "Me neither." She paused and smiled wryly, "How do you think it'll take until another crisis blows our lives to hell again?"

Blake sighed and smiled sleepily at her, "Five minutes. Tops."

Nelya laughed and kissed him, surprising them both at her sudden display of affection. She cleared her throat and tucked her hair behind her ear, "You're cute."

Blake smirked, leaning forward, "Nelya Clyne? Calling me cute? Incredible."

"Oh, shut-up." She muttered, pushing his face away and standing, "I'm gonna go shower, I can still feel the horrid plane grime on me."

"Sexy. Can I join you?"

Nelya looked at him, rolling her eyes when he grinned suggestively at her, "Fine."

He snickered and followed her into the bathroom, already feeling better than he had in months.

But he was worried about Nelya.

She had been so quiet on the plane, staring out the small window at nothing, in spite of the Pacific Ocean's waves rolling impressively below them. Over the course of their time in Ubezhishchem Zimnyaya, he knew she was putting on a brave face for the both of them. If she let the pain build up, she had told him one chilly night, their bare bodies cuddled close beneath thick furs, if she let herself think about what had happened on the island and let herself feel in this strange country, it would all be over.

He, she said, was her safety rope. The only thing holding her down enough before they got home.

Now that they were back, he was afraid everything was going to start crashing down on her. And honestly? He wasn't sure he would be enough to help her through it when it did.

And if he knew what was watching them, if either of them knew watching them so intently through the the little cameras placed throughout the entirety of both their apartments, even the small dose of comfort being back at home gave them would be whisked away.

"Where have you been?!" Tim yelled at them.

They found him standing in the middle of the cave wrapped in huge blanket and cradling a cup of hot chocolate in his small hands the evening later.

For the duration of the time Nelya and Blake had been gone, Tim had religiously descended to the cave every night. He would stay down there till midnight, before going back up disappointed, worried and abandoned. To pass the time, he would clean about the, but mostly he would study the state of the art kevlar suits and weapons in the armory they had left behind. More often than not, he'd rifle through the digital files on the computer, committing criminal cases and past and present offenders' profiles to memory.

He missed them.

Nelya, seeing the hurt in his eyes, stepped forward. She linked her hands behind her back and, leaning forward a little, whispered conspirationally, "We were on a secret mission."

Tim's eyes widened, "A secret mission?"

"Oh, yeah. When Commissioner Gordon came to pick us up from the airport last night we didn't even tell him why were in Russia."

His gaze flicked to Blake to confirm this truth. When Blake's lips upturned and he nodded in an expression that said 'she's-totally-telling-the-truth-believe-me-I-was-there', Tim looked back at her, "You were in Russia?"

"Pretty crazy, huh?" Nelya said gently.

"Totally..." Tim said, momentarily lost in thought, "Is that why you didn't call or anything?"

She ruffled his hair, "That's why we didn't call."

"You were in mortal danger."

"Yup."

"And you came back."

Nelya didn't reply to this, instead ruffling his hair again and suggesting Tim help her with some stock taking while Blake took a look over the Batmobile, unused for months. As terrible as it sounded, Nelya had no intention of telling Tim something stupid like 'we'll always come back'. There was no guarantee that they'd ever come back from a mission, no matter how big, no matter how small.

Batman didn't come back.

Acacia would never come back. She did, but that didn't matter anymore.

All the known Lazarus Pits were destroyed shortly after R'as al Ghul's demise, Thalia made sure of that. Nobody would use the sacred pools other than the Demon's Head.

So, promising Tim that either she or Blake would always return, always make it through, always survive, was a ridiculous hope to put in a child's head. What she and Blake had decided on, what Blake had committed himself to, would forever be filled with danger and soaring risk.

People simply did not come back from the dead.

No matter how hard you wanted them to.

The stranger, sat in a advanced, yet grimy, office, smirks at the screen before them, "They're asleep."

A sigh comes behind them, drawn out and exasperated, "Why are we-"

"Because it means they're vulnerable." The stranger snaps.

A tut, "You really got a lot to learn if you think the bats are vulnerable while they're asleep."

The stranger turned sharply to their companion, sneering, "Don't talk to me like that."

"I'll talk to you how I want," The companion shot back, rising to their full height and towering over the stranger, "This is getting us nowhere."

Unwilling to be deterred, the stranger scoffed, "And where do you think you're going?"

The companion simply grinned, "To make a real impression."