So- I can't honestly help myself. I can't stop writing. I start school again next Monday, so I am trying as hard as I can to push updates out before I won't be able to as much. Thank you for your support! No edits. Enjoy. :D - D

I sat there, feeling dejected. My mind did a quick recount of what had happened while I was 'sleeping.' Fuck me. I hadn't thought of that in the longest time. Guess that's what happens when something that happened so often in your past occurs in the future. I pulled the IV out of my arm and glanced at the clock. It was already eight o'clock at night. My shift was supposed to end an hour ago. What a way to kill time. Without saying a word to anyone I gathered my things out of my locker and headed home, jumping and watching every shadow that I came across.

I walked into my apartment, eyeballing the fifth of vodka on my refrigerator. Who would it hurt? I just want to forget about what happened. I reached up and yanked it down, placing it on the counter as I reached for a small glass. I unscrewed the lid to pour myself a screwdriver when there was a knock on my door. With a sigh I walked over to the door and opened it, a smile growing on my face as I saw my visitor – Gordon. "Hey Gordon," I greeted, stepping over for him to walk in. He walked in and hugged me immediately, wrapping a firm arm around my back. "Oh," I gasped as he hugged me. I welcomed the physical closeness of hugging someone. It had been a long time since anyone had hugged me. I graciously hugged him back.

"I'm so sorry, Holly. Had I known-" he started.

"Don't," I stated, pulling away from him. This wasn't your fault, Gordon. "You didn't know. We didn't have any idea of what was going to happen. If it wasn't me, it would have been someone else." He nodded and pushed his hair back, holding a box in his hand.

"That's not going to make me feel any better about it," he told me, shaking his head. He held the box out to me and smiled. Hm? I raised an eyebrow as he adjusted his glasses. I opened the box and smiled. Éclairs. I laughed and shut the lid. Two sweet gestures towards me in one day – maybe this ended up not being a bad day after all.

"Thank you, Gordon, but you didn't have to do this." I walked the box to the kitchen and sat it on the counter.

"I wanted to. You always took such great care of me in the hospital, then I led you into the potential death trap-"

"Gordon," I warned, interrupting him. "I told you not to worry. So stop worrying! I'm fine and it's not like I can't handle it." I left the conversation where it was, not needing to say anymore. He knew about what happened to me. He dropped his head.

"I didn't even think about that," he whispered. Oh, no, I didn't mean to make him feel worse.

"It's alright." I patted his shoulder. "At least it was me. Someone who was used to it-I would have hated for it to happen to someone who hadn't had a traumatic experience like that before. You know? Someone innocent who would be completely scarred by it. For me, it's just another typical day in my life." He nodded and adjusted his glasses again. I held the bottle up for him to see. "Want a drink? I was just about to have one."

"I would love a drink," he answered, nodding. I pulled out another glass and poured us both a stiff screwdriver. He took a sip of it the minute I handed it to him.

"Come, let's go sit." I waved him off towards my living room. We both sat quietly for a minute sipping on our drinks. "So tell me, is everyone that this is happening to having the same effects?" I asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

"No," he answered, sitting his drink down on the table beside him. He pulled a manila file out from the inside of his jacket and handed it to me. I opened it up and took another long drink. The images were even more disturbing. Each person in the file had some sort of genetic change to them, the same weird swollen muscles, green veins, and green eyes, but they each had some sort of plant or insect growth coming out of their body. One man had thorns growing out of his back like a porcupine, a woman had wings erupting from her shoulder blades with a stinger protruding from her hips just above her ass. I stared, captivated with the images. Yeah, this was definitely not the work of Selina Kyle.

I shook my head and took another drink, looking over where people had been found and what they described had happened to them before they were sprayed. Before they were sprayed, the descriptions were the same 'I heard a woman yelling from an alley and ran down to help her. When I showed up to help her, she sprayed me in the face with the mace and ran off.' Each person seemed to be fine until a few hours after the attack, and then they experienced a major personality switch, turning violent and murderous. I tapped my glass and took another drink. My glass was empty. I rose up from the couch and poured myself another. "Weird isn't it?" he asked from the living room as I walked back.

"Very," I answered, sitting down beside him. I mindlessly flipped through the file and sat it down.

"I heard Bane is working there at the hospital." I snorted and shook my head. News travels fast.

"Yeah," I added, not knowing what else to say on the subject. The man did help me, but I still wasn't too sure about it all.

"Blake told me Bane helped you after what happened."

"He did," I affirmed, taking a drink as I looked at Gordon, trying to figure out what he was getting at.

"Well, he does seem to be different. We've been watching him very closely. He's been living with Bruce, helping clean up Gotham, and just started working at the hospital. He said that he wanted to get back into medicine." Living with Bruce? What?

"Living with Bruce?" I asked, sitting my glass down.

"Bruce considered it extra security and it's not like he doesn't have the room," he laughed. I nodded, watching as Gordon drained his glass. He patted my knee and squeezed. "You know you can come by the station and see me anytime." He pulled the file closed and stuffed it back into his jacket. "We don't only have to see each other when the other is in hurt." I laughed. Very true- I just didn't want to feel like I was imposing on him. I knew how busy his job was. He glanced down at his watch and smoothed his hair back. "Thank you for the drink, but I should be getting home. My wife is probably worried sick. I told her I was on my way home almost an hour ago." I nodded and stood up to walk him to the door, feeling torn about the fact that it felt like he had just gotten there. "You can call me anytime you need to talk, too." He pulled me into a hug, wrapping arms around my shoulders. "About anything," he added, giving me a squeeze.

"Thank you," I mumbled, holding my head against his shoulder. I could feel his smile. He squeezed me again and released.

"Get some rest and I'll talk to you soon." I nodded with a smile and opened the door.

"Good night, Gordon."

"Good night, dear," he replied, with a slight bow as he walked down the hallway. I hesitated and shut the door.

I walked into work the next day, feeling very self-conscious about the bruising around my neck. I tried to wear a turtleneck type shirt, but in the middle of spring I felt ridiculous. I had tried seeing what a scarf would look like and that made me feel like an old woman. I'm going to be singled out all day. I know it. I'm pretty sure half these people think I deserve it anyway. I stuffed my hands into my lab coat and kept my head down, maneuvering myself through the busy hallways to get to my office. I opened the door and left it open as I sat down at my desk, expecting the Chief Resident to come in at any time to ask me how I was holding up. He'll probably suggest I talk to a counselor. I laughed at the thought. No thanks, Chief, I already got one. I opened my e-mails to review a list of surgeries that had been put on my schedule. I was halfway through putting the surgeries down on my calendar when the knock came that I had been expecting. I glanced up to greet the Chief and balked, seeing someone else. Bane. "Bane- I mean, Liam," I corrected, remembering that he had Liam on his nametag for a reason. He leaned against the door frame and smiled.

"How are you?" he asked. I sighed and stared down at my calendar.

"I'm alright," I answered, looking back at him. "Just bruised a bit, but it's nothing I can't handle." He smiled again, and rubbed hand over his clean shaven head.

"I hate to ask you, because I feel like you've done enough for me- do you take on any residents for surgeries?" I raised an eyebrow and folded my arms across my chest. Not usually, no. In fact, I have done a lot for you, but you also helped me yesterday. Damn you, conscience, get out of my head. "I would really like to get into surgery and you're one of the best surgeons in this hospital." Men and flattery always seem to go hand in hand. I wonder why that is? Do they all think commenting a woman will automatically get them what they want? I tapped my fingers against my arm, slightly swinging my chair back and forth. Oh, whatever. What the hell! What is it really going to hurt? It's the least I can do.

"Sure, I would be willing to take you on."

"Thank you. I can't say it enough."

"No problem." See? I can be nice. "Done any kind of surgery before?"

"No, I haven't, but I'd like to."

"I have a knee replacement this afternoon, if you'd like to join."

"I'd love to." I smiled as he did. "What time is it at?"

"2, in OR 5."

"I'll be there."

"Okay," I added.

"See you later." He gave me a small wave as he walked away.

The OR was cold, as usual. I pulled my face mask on and hunched over the knee of my patient, setting to work, cutting him open as Bane – Liam, walked into the OR, pulling a face mask of his own on. "Sorry I'm late, I was discharging a patient," he explained as he took the patient's side opposite of me.

"It's alright," I responded. "Just give me some suction," I asked, opening up the incision even wider.

"Is this a partial or a full replacement?" he asked, sucking up excess fluid so I could get a good look at the knee.

"Full," I answered. "Take a look at the degeneration of the cartilage and the ligaments." I put my finger against the front of my patient's knee, showing him the side of the nonexistent meniscus. He whistled loudly. "Exactly." I pulled the patella over a little farther, trying to make sure we had enough room for everything. "Bone saw?" I asked the assistant beside me, holding my hand out. "This is the tricky part." Liam sat the suction down and watched intently, his eyes scanning everything I was doing. "You have to make sure you cut it a certain way so that this fits." I held up the prosthesis for the femur and handed it to him. He took it from me and looked over it. "See the way it's shaped?" He nodded and handed it back.

"It's got four different corners in it."

"Yes." I held onto the bone saw and made the four cuts into the surface, Liam watched, not flinching or making any sort of movement. I handed the removed bone to him. "See all of the degeneration?"

"It's very obvious close up." I nodded and set to work, shocked that I had actually gotten the fitting right the first time. That rarely happened. "So, I've been made to ask you something." Oh, great. What the hell am I going to get asked now? I picked up the drill and steadied myself, drilling a hole into the patient's femur for the implant.

"Oh?" I asked, raising my eyebrow as I sat the drill down.

"Bruce and Selina wanted me to ask you if you received the invitation to his birthday party." That? Really? Why does it matter? "They haven't heard an RSVP from you." I shook my head and smiled from behind my mask.

"I didn't think it was that big of a deal and with everything going on-" I waved my hand as I readied the bone saw again, cutting into the tibia, readying it for the other implant.

"Because of me?" he asked, sucking up a few shavings that had scattered. I looked at him and squinted my eyes. No point in lying, you know I don't really care for you-even if I am helping you right now.

"Yes, because of you," I answered, putting the bone saw down as I picked up the drill to make a hole in his tibia. His eye crinkled and I knew he was smiling. I tested out the second component, biting my lip realizing it didn't fit. I sighed and pulled out the bone saw again.

"I have another question to ask you then."

"Ask away," I sighed. I could feel the eyes of my assistants. I was never this chatty and never allowed people into my OR, they were probably thinking I had something wrong with me. There is something wrong with me. I'm helping out the one person who I would have spat in the face of months ago.

"Would you be willing to go with me to Bruce's party?" I stopped for a second and sat the tibial prosthesis, looking up at Liam. Do what now? My brain froze, trying to comprehend what he had asked me. The OR grew extremely quiet. Why did he have to ask me this in front of other people? So much for staying out of the rumor mill at Gotham Medical. I opened my mouth to talk, and then promptly shut it. "I just thought it would give me a chance to show you I'm not the monster I was portrayed to be…" I looked down at my hands and at the dissected knee below me. Talk about pressure.

"Liam, I-"

"I won't take no for an answer," he insisted, holding his hands up. Oh, really? You don't me very well, Mr. Dorrance.

"When is it?" I asked, glancing around the room. A few assistants jumped and pretended as if they were fiddling with something when I knew damn good and well that they weren't.

"This Saturday." I thought through my schedule in my head. Any surgeries? Can I schedule a surgery for that day? No harm in saying yes now and bowing out later.

"Sure," I answered, picking up the tester to make sure the prostheses would work well together.

"Great, I'll let Bruce know your answer later today." My eyes stared into his as I watched them scrunch up again.