This chapter gets graphic. Forewarning now. I started a tumblr. MAJOR mistake. It's been interfering with writing all day today! Damn you, Tom Hardy. :) Haha. And here we go… Enjoy. ;)

I know the main character seems heartless and cruel, so I'm including a small glimpse into her past this chapter, hopefully you'll understand why Holly is the way she is after this chapter.

TWO updates in ONE day. My brain is buzzing. Haha.

Thank you so much for the reviews and follows! (No edits, as usual!) - D

I sat on the bench just outside of the hospital, eating my apple, enjoying the spring air on my break. I didn't really like eating inside in the lounges with the gossiping crowd. I usually ate with Gordon, but he had been released a few weeks prior. It had been almost three months since my incident at the asylum. I smoothed a wild piece of hair behind my ear and opened my newspaper in my lap, somehow having the coordination to handle it one handed even with a slight spring breeze. Oh, but it feel amazing. The wind in my hair, the birds chirping and - sirens going off? I turned and looked at the three ambulances swarming into the emergency bay before returning to my relaxing fifteen minutes. At least I'm outside. No freaky business to deal with today.

I hadn't heard a word from Bruce and I was grateful. It's not like he doesn't have resources to find a doctor for himself, too. I did receive an overly extravagant invitation to a birthday party for Bruce that I promptly threw in the trash the minute I opened it. Why would someone horrible at dancing, horrible at maintaining conversation, hates ass kissing, doesn't like Bruce at the moment, and hates drinking go to a birthday party? Why don't we just add a few more reasons to that list? – Because that wasn't enough, right? I flipped to the crossword puzzle on the back of the paper, dropping the apple out of my hand as I reached for a pencil on the bench. Fuck me. Really? I cursed out loud and scowled, looking around the courtyard in front of the hospital.

"Holly?" asked a voice from a few feet away. I glanced down the sidewalk and saw a small framed walking my way. He pulled his sunglasses off and held them in his hand. Blake? What brings you to the hospital?

"Hey Blake," I answered, folding up my newspaper, tucking it under my arm, standing to meet him.

"Say, you got a sec to look at something?" I raised an eyebrow at him.

"Look at something?"

"Yeah, it's for a case I'm working on, I'd appreciate it if you took a look at it. Gordon told me you'd be the best person to ask." I missed Gordon. A lot. Sometimes I felt like he was the only person I could really talk to. Because he is. He straightened his tie under his suit and glanced at the emergency bay.

"Sure," I told him. "Do I need to clock out or-?"

"Oh, no, the person's inside, I was actually on my way in to come and get you and here you are," he stated with a smirk. I nodded and turned. So much for keeping my freaky business to a minimum. Jeez.

"Well, shall we?" I asked, gesturing towards the hospital.

"Yes." We walked inside together, me following closely behind as he led me up the elevator. The elevator closed and rose, stopping each subsequent floor.

"How's Gordon?" I just wanted to stop the awkward silence and talk a bit and I couldn't help but ask about him.

"He's good," replied Blake with a nod and the same tight lipped smile. Okay, I know I'm not that bad. At least I pretend to like people if they speak with me. Well – outside of the OR.

"Good. I've missed visiting him all of the time."

"We've been really busy the last few weeks since he's been back. We think there might be a new villain in the making." No. Really? If it's who I think it is, I will- "We don't think it's Bane," he added as if he could read my mind." Well, that's good for his sake and Bruce's. The elevator stopped at floor 5 and we got off. "We've been keeping a pretty close eye on him, on top of Bruce's monitoring. He's been as harmless as a kitten." I smiled at the thought, trying to imagine Bane being all tame and cuddly. Too bad Bane was far from a kitten. We stopped outside of a room and I stared at the floor, feeling my anxiety kick in as we passed a group of giggling nurses. Blake gave them a courteous nod and his usual tight smile. Glad to know it's not just me he feels uncomfortable with. Guess I was finally beginning to somewhat understand what it felt like to be treated like that. I had never really been on the receiving end of it before. Make a mental note for Jada. I cleared my throat awkwardly and peered back up. "People have been popping up in hospitals like this all over the place the last month, almost like an epidemic," he explained.

"Is it an actual epidemic? Or?" He shook his head.

"No, epidemic is probably the wrong word to use. It's not viral or infectious. It just keeps happening." Ah, okay…? I suppose that makes sense. Blake knocked on the door softly and waited for someone to answer it. I met eyes with a rather distraught middle aged woman, her blonde hair pulled up into a bun, her eyes puffy and red- I assumed from crying. She stepped aside and sniffed. "How are you, Mrs. Summer?"

"I'm- alright," she breathed as we walked past. My eyes widened at least two times their normal size when I looked at the sight. I blinked hard a few times and cocked my head to the side.

"This is Doctor Engel, she's a doctor under the command of the unit, I've asked her to take a look at your husband for me," Blake spoke, stopping behind me.

"What-is-?"I stopped and pointed as I asked, staring at the man. Mrs. Summer let out a loud whimper. Bed side manners. I'm an idiot. Blake shrugged.

"Thought you could tell me. I don't know much about this shit- I mean- stuff," he corrected, stepping back to console Mrs. Summer "-to be honest." He patted her shoulders and gave her a small half hug. "Don't worry, we'll get this straightened out." Does this man do everything half-assed? I was hoping not. I approached the man in bed, pulling on a face mask and gloves from the counter, just to be safe. Words could not even begin to describe what he looked like. His muscles were swollen and enlarged, all of his veins a bright green color, right under the skin. Something green and long was growing out of his forearm, right before his wrist. I approached it with caution, holding my hands up as I maintained my distance, trying to get a good look at it. What in the fuck? I squinted, trying to think of what it looked like. It was a vine. An actual vine, growing out of a man's arm.

"What's that?" I asked, calmly, pointing down. "Is that a vine?" It was thick and knobby, about the size of a tube of toothpaste, covered in mossy green growth. This was almost as disturbing as Harvey Dent. I shuddered and walked up to him, peering over to look at the other side to see if there was another one growing out of the other arm. I'll be damned. Well, it's official, I completely jinxed myself on the whole 'freaky' business thing. "Where did you find him at?" I leaned over his shoulder, trying not to disturb him.

"In an alley just a few blocks south of here, he was walking home. He told the nurses when he woke up that a woman was crying out for help from the alley and he ran to help her. When he got there, he said she sprayed this weird sticky mace in his face and- well, this happened." I nodded. Selina? No. I couldn't be Selina. Could it? Why would she do something like that? I knew she had some sort of criminal history, but spraying people with mace and running away, not knowing what kind of goods the man had on him… definitely not her style. It's not like she needed to keep stealing anyway with a billionaire boyfriend and all.

"And our friends know about this?" I asked, cocking an eyebrow at him, so he would know who and what I was referring to.

"Yes, of course. They've been looking into at as much as possible." I nodded again and leaned back over Mr. Summer, reaching up to look at his eyes and look down his throat and ears for anything. Curiosity killing my cat again. I gingerly placed my hands on the side of his head and pulled the otoscope off of the wall to look into his ears. I gently tugged on his ear with my thumb and the side of his index finger when I heard a horrible screech. "Holly!" screamed Blake, dread and warning wrapped all into that one word. I leaned away to see what was the matter and saw the terror on Mrs. Summer's face. Both of them were staring at Mr. Summer. Oh shit. I cast my gaze down and could only watch as Mr. Summer's vines were unleashed and shooting straight for me.

"Oh fuck!" I screamed out loud, taking a few quick steps backwards straight into the counter. I tried to shuffle away, but couldn't outrun him. The vines wrapped around my neck and waist in the most unpleasant and horrific way. I really hated being choked. It had happened to me so many times in my life, I knew it was better not to fight it. The more you fought it the worse it hurt and the more energy you wasted. It just wasn't worth it. Blake withdrew his gun and aimed it at a wild eyed Mr. Summers, who eyes were a vibrant green color. Great. Try to help someone out and this is what shit I get. I'm remembering this next time.

"Drop her now!" Blake ordered, yelling as Mrs. Summer screamed, hitting Blake in the shoulders.

"Don't you shoot my husband!" she squealed, hitting his arms and shoulders.

"Drop her now or I will shoot!" he barked, waving and shaking the gun in Mr. Summer's direction. I felt my face turn many different shades as I was raised into the air, high above them. Out of instinct, I grasped the vines around my neck, clawing at them with my nails. I tried to let my body go slack, but the pressure around my waist wasn't helping. What a hell of a way to go. Survive this long and I'm about to be killed by some fucking human tree. The door opened and I watched as a swarm of people ran in, all going straight for Mr. Summer. I felt the vine tighten even more, before I could react, my mind went blank...

She lay in the bedroom of a home, she could smell and hear her father from downstairs. His cigarette smoke had wafted all the way to the second story. He was slamming beer bottles down on the counter, loudly, one-two-three-four-five-six… she wrapped the blanket around her body tighter and shut her eyes. Maybe he'll just go to sleep, she prayed, pulling a pillow over her head. The girl was no older than 16, her body bruised with a few cigarette burns in her shoulder from back-talking. Her life consisted of nothing more than going to school, coming home, and dealing with him. Please just go to sleep, she whispered, holding the sheet under her chin.

Seven-eight-nine-ten-eleven-twelve. There was a loud crash, she knew what was coming next. All of the muscles in her body tensed, fear stretching out and wrapping itself around each one, putting her senses on high alert. Please, she cried. Please, just leave me alone. Her heart sped up as she listened to the creaks in the staircase. There was a fumbling, he fumbled backwards and started his climb again, cursing loudly as he restarted back up the steps. "Where's Daddy's little cunt?" he snarled, stomping into the hallway in front of her room. "My jolly Holly," he joked, a snide laugh in his comment. She shut her eyes, tears forming, a sob escaping her. Trying to hold it back was burning her throat and she couldn't take it anymore. "Uh-oh, sounds like Holly isn't so jolly," he sang, leaning against the doorframe. He stroked his goatee between his fingers as he stared at her.

"I bet I know something that'll help with that," he breathed, his voice full of lust. She quivered uncontrollably, biting her lip, praying that her life would end. It couldn't be like this for everyone. It just couldn't. She cried hard, the emotion shredding and cutting into the depths of her soul. He walked slowly to her bed, undoing his belt. She sank into the mattress. There was nowhere to run. Nowhere to go. He was stronger and faster and had almost killed her more than enough times, she knew there was no point in trying to fight him. It only made it worse. No one knew. He always told her if she told he would torture her until she begged for death. Little did he know she begged for it every day.

He yanked the covers off her, hard, flipping her onto her back. She slammed her eyes closed, if she ever lived, she never wanted to remember what he looked like. She never wanted to have that in the back of her mind. She never knew that regardless of not looking, that it would never leave. It would always stay constant, nagging, always reminding her of what happened. He pulled his erection out from the hole in his boxers, stroking it in his hand as he looked down her body. After her mother died in a car accident, he was left alone with Holly, left to look after her when she was only five. He couldn't handle the stress. Her mother had taken a majority of the beatings until after she had passed. The alcohol helped release the monster that had been created from the stress and depression of losing his wife. He pulled her pants down and climbed on top of her, pushing himself inside of her, grunting. Tears soaked her face as she grimaced against each thrust, she swallowed as the vomit rose in her throat…

No, please, no. I don't want to think about this right now. Not now. I'm so lost. "Holly?" asked a deep, raspy voice. It sounded like whisper. I tried to open my eyes, but couldn't. I want to escape this, please, please, help me. "Holly?" A hand touched my face, spreading wetness across it. Not that dream. I'll take anything else, but that. Open your eyes. Open them, now. My eyes slowly opened, I fought against the urge to keep them closed. I warily opened them and squinted against the light. The hand on my face continued to stroke it, wiping the tears away. It felt warm against my skin, so much different from the dream I had. The chill… the fear… more tears entered my eyes, clouding my vision. I stared at the shape before me, unable to see the face. "Can you hear me?" I nodded slightly, haphazardly raising my arm to my face. I wiped the eye opposite of the man's hand and stared, blinking, trying to focus. "Good. Are you alright? I've given you some pain medication and something for your nerves. You were crying in your sleep, mumbling and thrashing." I can't ever imagine why. It wasn't fair of me to be rude, whoever it was had no idea.

"I'm alright," I croaked with a stuffy nose, sitting up the hospital bed. Jeez, so much for a good day. Sitting down, having a nice spring day and then it got fucked over. The hand removed itself from my face, leaving me to a rub and wipe off my own face. I pulled my hands down and opened my eyes, my entire body going into paralysis as I looked at who was sitting beside me. "B-Bane?" I stuttered, confused as to what he was doing there. He smiled warmly at me and leaned back. Well, fuck, I never saw this coming. "What are you-"

"I work in the hospital now as a resident. I have for the last couple of months," he explained, holding up the name badge on his lab coat. Liam Dorrance: Gotham Medical: Residential M.D. His eyes were a soft, clear blue color, with that unexpected emotion behind them that I had seen in his picture before he became all 'Bane' like.

"I haven't seen you around here." His smile remained on his face, his eyebrow raised. I'm pretty sure I would have noticed a huge brute with a shaved head wearing a lab coat.

"I did a good job of hiding from you then." It was my turn to raise an eyebrow.

"Excuse me?" I asked, defensively folding my arms across my chest.

"You aren't exactly fond of me. And I can understand why." He paused, glancing out of the window, before looking at me again. "Figured if you saw me here you wouldn't be pleased- now would you?"

"No," I answered, honestly. He laughed deeply, his eyes crinkling.

"That's what I figured." I pulled at a stray piece of thread that was coming out of the worn out hospital blanket someone had put over me, staring at it, unsure of what to say. Usually people that I had been exceptionally rude to ignored me, yet this man sat with me until I woke up. Thanks for making me feel like the bad guy, Bane. "I appreciate your honesty." I shrugged.

"No point in lying when everything comes out in the wash." He nodded as I looked up to meet his eyes, still fumbling with the thread in my fingers.

"Very true," he agreed, leaning back in his chair. His body was still large, but not as large as it had been. There was still muscle mass, but he didn't look like he was on serious anabolic steroids anymore. The inhibitor was working.

"What were you doing? I mean – why are you helping me?" He smirked, the left side of his mouth pulling up.

"Mr. Summer is my patient." Oh, how convenient. "Well, my attending's patient." Still – how convenient. "He was just admitted today, I had no idea what was going on. All I know is I heard yelling and screaming and you're up in the air and-"

"Yeah, I remember that all very well," I interrupted, ashamed of what had happened to me in front of everyone. He closed his mouth and sat, quietly for a beat.

"Well, I will leave you to it, then. I just wanted to make sure you were alright and make sure you weren't going to turn into one of them." He patted the bed beside my leg and rose up from his chair, walking towards the door. Yeah, now I feel like a serious asshole. I recounted my dream. Come on, just say thank you. It's not that hard. The man didn't have to help you and he did. Who knows if anyone else in the hospital would have helped you? And the man had no reason to, especially after your mouth.

"Thank you," I mumbled, dipping my head back down to stare at the blanket, I glanced back up to catch him turn and smile again. "For, you know," I added, gesturing to the bed and the IV line.

"Don't worry about it," he told me with another large smile before leaving the room.