A/N: Due to FFnet censoring me I had to cut out a sex scene in this chapter. However, this sex scene is actually really important for the story so I would ask for readers to either read the entire chapter on AO3, or at least go over to AO3 for the sex scene part (trust me, you'll know where in the chapter it was haha).

Link to AO3: archiveofourown(dot-org)/works/684270/chapters/1318418

They had to wait a few more days before Bane could find a similar sense of peace to the one John had discovered after his final discussion and farewell with Bruce. Although Bane was strong enough to move around John's apartment now and had begun to slowly rebuild his exercise routine, he still tired easily.

It didn't help that the constant ache from Venom still plagued Bane. When John had asked, Bane explained that every day he adjusted more to the pain, and that it began to fade as his entire body detoxed. Bane suspected that the ache in his bones would never fully fade, but it was a pain he could accept and ignore as it weakened. Still, they both knew it would be stupid of them to venture out into such an unsettled city when Bane would tire before they even reached the cemetery.

Bane didn't push the issue, though John could see the building tension in Bane's body. Bane was a man who could sit perfectly still for hours if it suited him, but if he wanted to go somewhere or do something, any form of inactivity poisoned him. It didn't help when John received a short text from Jim, clearly giving them directions to find Talia's specific grave in the cemetery. Row 11, 7 right. Bane had begun to pace after that and John restrained himself from snapping at him, knowing it wouldn't solve anything.

They spent a few days inside, exercising and relaxing together. John only ventured outside to pick up a few more groceries as well as a few new sets of clothes for both himself and Bane, also collecting his replacement credit and debit cards. John was relieved when Bane seemed to relax anytime they spent time together, growing aggravated only when John left and Bane couldn't follow. In the last few months Bane had held complete control over Gotham and could go anywhere; now he was trapped in a small apartment. That sort of containment could drive anyone stir crazy.

That wasn't what worried John. What worried him was when Bane began to give in and settle into the apartment life. Bane adopted a rigid routine of eating, exercising and sleep, only indulging occasionally in entertainment or John's body when John forcefully dragged him to bed. As John watched Bane move around the apartment he knew he was watching the fire beginning to dim inside Bane as he grew listless. By Friday night John feared Bane was reverting back to his mindset from prison and knew he had to remind Bane what freedom felt like.

From the pile of stolen clothes John had collected, Bane pulled out the clothes that fit him best and changed. When he was done John stood in front of him, looking him over and trying to determine how likely it would be for someone to recognize him. John was actually shocked to see that while Bane was intrinsically the same person, there had been a few subtle changes recently that amounted to a different appearance.

In the nearly two weeks Bane had been sick and recovering he had lost at least ten pounds of weight. Because of this his body had grown slightly softer, especially around his face and neck. Bane's cheeks were smooth, his jaw a slight curve rather than a sharp line. All of his skin was beginning to heal, including the cut John had left on his face and the worn, raw skin from Bane's mask before it had been removed. Even the scars around his mouth from the needles had grown less angry and red, pinpricks scabbed over and healing.

The rest of Bane's body remained mostly the same, simply because his massive frame had nothing to do with weight. Bane naturally had broad shoulders and a large chest, always making his upper body look intimidating and overpowered – which it was. It didn't matter that Bane was recovering from morphine withdrawal; Bane's speed and skill in fighting had not diminished and one good punch could knock an average man flat on his back with at least one body part broken.

The muscles on his arms and legs had changed slightly. Bane's muscles in his arms bulged a little less, at least making it easier to find shirts that fit, and his thighs had softened. In fact, anytime they rocked together on the bed and John groped wherever he could reach for stability he could feel a little more flesh beneath his fingers, corded muscles somewhat faded. However, John knew that wouldn't last long as Bane focused on returning to his exercise routine. Bane would always be muscular, big and strong, but every inch of him looked a bit leaner.

Bane still stalked around like he was in prison and had to put on a show to scare off any competition but John doubted that would ever fade; those sorts of behaviours became ingrained. But with the softer face, the slightly narrower build, and the lack of armour and mask, John felt relatively certain that no one would recognize Bane, especially if they left the apartment at night. As long as they didn't get into a conversation with anyone and kept their heads down they should be perfectly safe.

John hooked his hand around the back of Bane's neck and dragged his mouth down, sealing their lips together for a slow kiss. Bane groaned and pushed John back against the vanity, pinning John between the furniture and his body as he deepened the kiss. John moaned and smiled, speaking against Bane's lips. "You look good."

Bane caught John's bottom lip between his teeth and tugged for a moment, and then pulled away. "You look pretty appealing yourself," Bane praised, eyes roaming John's body hungrily.

John hummed, smile turned sultry. They were on a mission though, and while he had half a mind to strip Bane back down and lead him back to the bed, he knew that this outing was important. Bane needed to re-experience the freedom he had claimed, and he deserved the chance to bid farewell to Talia and the accompanying emotional weight Bane never acknowledged but John saw clearly.

"Let's save that for later," John suggested, even though he knew it meant waiting at least for another day. Going to a cemetery didn't really build sexual desire. He didn't mind though; they had plenty of time for that later.

Bane reached forward and clutched at John's hip with one large hand, dragging him closer and pressing another kiss to John's lips that left him dizzy and out of breath. Then Bane relented, smirking as he exited the bedroom. John slumped back against the vanity for a moment, scolding his libido into behaving, and then followed Bane out into the hallway. By the time he reached the front door he saw that Bane had already slipped into the woollen coat John had stolen for him and it immediately made John want to taste those lips again.

The coat hung well from Bane's broad shoulders and hid the majority of his bulk and muscle. While Bane was still noticeably tall and broad, his telltale muscles were hidden from view. Now Bane just looked like a surprisingly large businessman. John offered a hat, aware that the outside temperatures were still quite cold after the sun went down, and Bane pulled the toque on until the fabric fit snugly around his bare head. It wasn't really a disguise, but if John didn't know Bane so well and hadn't watched the recent changes, he wouldn't give Bane a second glance on the street in passing.

John pulled on his own coat and hat and slid on his boots before disappearing briefly to the kitchen. He rejoined Bane by the front door with a backpack on and a duffel bag slung over his shoulder, uncomfortable as the stiff material of Bane's armour dug into his hip. John had transferred everything they needed to dispose of from the garbage back to the two smaller bags after dinner.

Bane looked him over and crossed his arms. "You still look like a burglar."

"That's why you're taking the duffel bag." John grunted as the bag slid down his arm and the full weight hooked against the crook of his arm, but then he held the bag out for Bane to take.

Bane took it and hung it from his own shoulder, not even hinting at noticing the weight of all his armour pulling on one shoulder. "Now we look like a team of burglars."

"It's better than a huge, bulging garbage bag," John grumbled. "We'll go to the water first and then we'll head to the cemetery. I have everything on the map."

"Lead the way," Bane said, motioning to the door. They both knew they had little choice in the matter; they had to dispose of all incriminating evidence as soon as possible. John's soiled coat could be abandoned pretty much anywhere except in John's apartment building since it was generic, but Bane's armour and mask were a different story.

Originally they had planned to burn everything but that would draw too much attention. Their next thought was to throw everything in the swift-moving river and let everything get carried out to the bay. John had worried that everything would drift back onto shore but Bane had nullified this fear by filling up the bathtub with water and dropping his mask and armour in. There was enough metal and weight to the items that they sunk like rocks, and they would be able to tie more rocks to the armour and mask by the shoreline to ensure that the current didn't keep anything afloat.

John led the way out of the apartment and down the hallway, taking the stairs down to the main floor. This was the most dangerous part since the lobby was well lit and the majority of the building was still taking up residence here. John adopted the mindset he knew best, that of a cop. He walked purposefully but didn't rush, giving off the impression that he knew where he was supposed to be and shouldn't be disturbed. Bane was a silent presence at his side and together they passed through the light of the lobby and out onto the darkened street.

The walk to the water's edge took a long time, made longer when John took a detour through an alley in order to deposit his bundled-up coat into an already-full dumpster. It was at least a fifteen minute walk from John's apartment and John knew the garbage collectors wouldn't inspect everything. Nor would anyone feel the need to test the coat for DNA; the amount of clothing thrown out due to smoke or blood damage was probably insurmountable.

The streets were not deserted since they were only out walking around 9pm, and at first John and Bane remained out of sight as often as possible. After a while John checked his watch and realized how much time they were wasting with that method, knowing that they were risking just as much by remaining out in the open for a longer period of time than necessary.

They were currently on a small side street that was empty, backs against a closed coffee shop window as they watched for pedestrians. John glanced over at Bane critically. He didn't look tired out by the walk yet. Bane looked back at him, reading his face. "I can run if I have to," Bane assured him.

John licked his lips, feeling how chapped they were from the cold air. He didn't like the idea of them being in that situation, or of them getting split up, but they had to prepare. "If we have to split up, where do you want to meet? The hotel?"

Bane's lips twitched but then he shook his head. "No, they might have their security cameras up again by now. Let's meet at the park near your apartment."

It was a park they had passed when they left on this journey and John nodded his agreement. "Alright."

Bane's hand reached forward and held John's forearm tightly, as though John was about to run. "Only if we must."

John placed a hand on top of Bane's, calming. "Agreed."

With that decided they took their first steps onto a populated street and didn't duck into an alley to avoid passing people on the sidewalk. John couldn't help but tense up when someone brushed by his shoulder and could see how stiff Bane's steps were beside him. The couple who brushed John's shoulder didn't even look over at them though, nor did the next few people they passed. Everyone had their own destination to focus on, rushing to get out of the cold weather rather than wasting time taking in their surroundings.

John and Bane never stopped being cautious but they allowed themselves to continue forward without pausing after that, comfortable enough that they weren't drawing attention. When they reached the river they climbed down the worn concrete steps to the shoreline, walking carefully to avoid slipping on the large wet stones scattered across the shore. It was low tide now, allowing them to walk a little further away from the streets.

There were no street lights out here, John and Bane blanketed in a protective darkness. Giddy with adrenaline and relief, John wrapped his arms around Bane's shoulders and dragged him into a greedy kiss, listening to the lapping water and a few distant car engines as their lips slid together. Bane didn't push him away but didn't return the intensity of the kiss, reminding John that now was not the moment to celebrate. The kiss turned soft and brief and then they pulled away. John was relieved it was dark so Bane couldn't see his blush, though he knew there was no need for him to apologize.

They had chosen a patch of the shore far enough away from the closest street that someone on the sidewalk wouldn't be able to make them out in the dark. The only potential threats now were others who might walk onto the shoreline, which was unlikely considering the dropping temperatures. Still, John and Bane made quick work of finding a few larger stones or broken-apart bricks and tying them to the armour and mask.

Bane was in charge of throwing everything as far out into the water as he could since the weight would not hinder him. One at a time Bane threw every iconic piece of his former identity into the inky black water, John standing by his side. In the same way everything had sunk to the bottom of John's tub, each part of armour was swallowed by the river's waves, swept away and buried by the current.

Soon Bane was left holding the last and most important piece, his mask. The fabric and metal was slightly bent out of shape, the clasps done up again and a brick attached to it with the string John had brought from home. John watched Bane, wondering if he would have to say anything to encourage or reassure Bane. It seemed that Bane had already moved on though, because after staring at the mask for only a moment he threw it with all his strength, releasing what had basically been a part of him to the water.

Bane didn't even stare out at the river afterwards. Instead he turned to John, perhaps predicting John's expression even if he couldn't make it out in the dim lighting. "I already chose you, John. And my own freedom." Bane's arms encircled John's waist and John allowed himself to be pulled closer. Bane's body protected John from most of the cold wind coming off the water and John shivered as they began to share heat. "I am free to be with you, unimpeded by Talia or the morphine. Nothing could make me question that."

John met Bane's kiss and smiled. Arms wrapped around each other, sharing warmth as they kissed by the water, John could almost imagine them as a normal couple out on an evening stroll. They would never be normal and John didn't want them to be normal, but it was nice to know that they could still share moments like this.

Their kiss was shortened by a particularly cold gust of air, both of them shuddering together despite their coats and shared heat. Unwilling to linger any longer, they picked up their empty bags before John took Bane's hand and led him back to the streets to continue their trek to the cemetery. The walk kept them warm thankfully since it took them another fifteen minutes to reach the cemetery, which was empty at this time of night but luckily unlocked.

They walked through the cemetery to the eleventh row of graves and then looked to the gravestones on the right side of their cobblestone path. John was thankful that Gordon had given them directions or else they wouldn't know where to look. John led the way down the row of graves until he came to the seventh one from the path. The only engraving on the gravestone was a simple MT but the soil below was fresh and loose – a new grave. Although Talia as Miranda Tate had had her own rights as a Gotham citizen, the police couldn't risk labelling her grave fully. Regardless of what she did to the city, no one wanted fanatics digging up or defiling the grave.

Bane walked up behind him and John shuffled sideways, allowing Bane to stand directly in front of the grave while John stood as a support at his side. John looked up at Bane, barely able to make out his face with the small lights that lined the path cutting through the middle of the cemetery. "Should I give you some time alone?"

Without a word Bane reached over and wound an arm around John's waist, holding him flush against Bane's side. "I want you here," Bane said simply.

John didn't argue. He relaxed against Bane's side, taking comfort in their combined warmth against the cold night air. John didn't know how long they stood there together in front of Talia's fresh grave since he didn't bother looking at his watch. It didn't really matter how long they were there because they weren't leaving until Bane was ready. There wasn't much for John to think over; he had believed that Talia as Miranda was an ally and she had betrayed him. It had stung but he could move on. Bane had a lot more to deal with.

He could feel how tense Bane was against him, standing rigid. John worried that Bane was spending more energy trying to hold himself together rather than actually managing what he was feeling. But before he could think of something to say, Bane began to speak. "I wonder if Talia would still be alive if I had not met you." John swallowed and remained silent. "But then I realize that her revenge had become her life. She never planned to survive, and I do not think she planned for me to survive either." Bane hesitated. "I was ready to be done."

John rested a hand on top of the hand Bane had on his hip, squeezing tightly. He could feel his heart aching at the thought. "Bane."

Bane held him tighter. "Then they dumped you on my floor."

John felt his heart clench, remembering that day. Even though things had worked out for them, that first memory of being dropped on Bane's hotel room floor sent a shock of adrenaline through him. John remembered the pain from the wound he had received on the back of his head, the way his vision swam, and the sight of Bane sizing him up when he first spoke John's name. "Not the best day," John admitted with a sad laugh.

Bane turned and brushed his lips against John's temple, immediately nudging those memories away. It was important to remember how they started off because John could never underestimate Bane, but John also had to remember that they were both very different people now than when they first collided. "No, but I will still cherish it. It was a new beginning, and it offered the first choice I felt was my own in my entire life."

"Whether or not to kill me?" John wondered, eyebrows knit together.

"I never planned to kill you," Bane told him. "My choice was whether to love you."

Now John's heart was fluttering warmly. "Happy with your decision?" He tried to keep his voice light but couldn't fully remove the serious worry from his tone. After all, John knew that Bane choosing him meant betraying Talia. Just as choosing Talia would have inevitably led to John's death. Regardless of what Bane said about not planning to kill him, John knew that Bane's love was what saved him in the end.

"Without a doubt." They were simple words, but powerful ones. Bane was a thinker and a planner; the idea of him making a decision without doubting it and considering every other option spoke volumes.

John couldn't help it; he smiled. But when he turned from Bane to the grave he felt his smile fade away. Even though he hadn't known it at the time, he had driven a wedge between Bane and Talia. While he still saw Talia as someone who took advantage of her friend, he knew Bane was not a weak follower. He made his own decisions, and that meant Bane could still hurt at losing a friend and companion. John knew it wasn't really his place but he felt a question on the tip of his tongue. "Did you get to say goodbye?"

Bane released a breath and John felt Bane's whole body deflate against him. "I never took the time to say goodbye to any of the people I fought with. And in City Hall, Talia and I both knew we were going to die. As far as we knew the bomb was going to go off in the city." Bane's fingers twitched against John's side and John rested a hand on the middle of Bane's back, pressing forward so that Bane could feel his touch through the woollen coat. "She touched my mask and said Goodbye, my friend, and then she left." Bane cleared his throat. "I never said it back."

"Why not?" John asked, keeping any accusation out of his tone.

"Perhaps I hoped that if I didn't say goodbye, it would not have to be the end," Bane mused. "I wanted to be free of her revenge but I did not wish her dead." His voice cracked and John looked up, surprised. In the dim glow from the path John watched a sparse few tears trail agonizingly slow down Bane's face. "Now it is too late."

John kept one hand on Bane's back, grounding Bane, and lifted his other hand from Bane's hand on his hip up to Bane's face. He tilted Bane's face away from the grave just enough to brush those tears away with his thumb, allowing some warmth to seep from his palm into Bane's cheeks. "It's not too late."

"She will not hear me," Bane argued, turning back to the grave and pulling his face away from John's touch.

"She may," John said, not wanting to get into a heated discussion about the possibilities of the afterlife. "But either way, saying the words will help you. Releasing them will help you move on."

Bane turned back to him. "Did you say goodbye to your Batman?"

"In my own way," John nodded. "I helped me let go. I'll never see him again but I got to say what I wanted to say."

Bane stared at him and John could feel his body shaking as he held John. Then Bane detached himself and John let him go, his arms crossing over his chest for warmth. He watched Bane step gingerly around the loose soil until he stood by the gravestone, one large hand resting on top. John thought Bane might speak then but instead he watched as Bane's legs bent and gave out, dragging Bane to his knees.

Bane's hand was still on the top curve of the polished stone and his other one came up to brush over the front stone face, finger tracing the plain letters MT. Bane's head bowed until his forehead rested against the cold stone, his eyes clenched closed as his shoulders shook with silent tears. "Goodbye, my friend," Bane whispered. "I am glad you have finally found peace."

John struggled to swallow around the lump in his throat, his nose stinging with the threat of tears as he wiped the cuff of his coat across his eyes. He hadn't cared for Talia but perhaps John owed Talia at least some form of thanks; she had given Bane something to fight for that led him to John. And regardless of John's own personal feelings for the woman he had trusted and been betrayed by, Bane had cared for her and his pain made John ache horribly.

He continued to stand at the end of the grave while Bane knelt by the gravestone. John was hyper aware as Bane's quiet crying tapered off, his body relaxing and finally sagging against the gravestone. John wondered if Bane's emotions were heightened the same way physical contact had become with the morphine out of his system. He worried that this had been too much, too fast. But when Bane stood slowly and turned to face John, he knew this had been exactly what Bane needed.

Bane seemed lighter and looser, but also stronger as he stood. John realized that he was looking at a man freed. He watched as Bane walked around the grave towards him, calm and certain without glancing back at the gravestone or away from John. Their eyes remained locked until Bane was standing right in front of John, chest to chest, and then he leaned an extra inch closer. "Let's go home."

Hearing Bane call John's apartment 'home' had John's heart thrumming rapidly in his chest, and despite being in the freezing cold in the middle of a cemetery, he grinned. "That sounds like a good idea," he said as he took hold of Bane's hand, lacing their fingers together. He waited for Bane to make the first move in case there was anything else he wanted to do or say at Talia's grave, but when Bane turned back to the path and led John towards the exit he didn't complain.

Since they would not be taking a detour to the waterfront John was looking forward to a shorter, more direct walk home. Based on the map he had printed off he estimated that it would only take about twenty to thirty minutes tops. By now the streets were more deserted, and when John glanced at his watch he wasn't surprised. He hadn't noticed how much time had passed between their walking and errands, but he couldn't say that he minded.

They were a little over halfway home and John was looking forward to being back in his warm apartment, tired of winter's last attempt at maintaining control before spring took over. That was when he heard the cry for help. John had just enough time to see a young man being crowded against the street wall by three larger guys before Bane was dragging John into a nearby alley, hiding them in the shadows.

John wrenched himself from Bane's hold immediately and dashed for the alley mouth. His hand touched his belt but he didn't hesitate even when he found no gun on his hip. The only thing that stopped him was Bane's force pushing him back against the brick wall, using just enough strength to knock some wind out of John's lungs to stun him. "Get off me," John growled, grappling at Bane's arms in an attempt to remove them from where they were pinning his shoulders.

"And let you run out and get shot?" Bane snapped. "No."

They were close enough to the fight on the street that John could hear them talking. From what John could make out of the conversation the three larger men were part of a gang that considered this area part of their territory. Whether or not the smaller man was part of a rival gang or just an unfortunate victim John couldn't tell, but it didn't seem to matter to the other men either way.

John heard the sound of a fist hitting skin, a groan and three sets of sharp laughter. John's teeth ground together. "You expect me to just hide while that man gets beat up?"

"You have no gun, no badge, and no mask," Bane shot back. "What good do you expect to do?"

"I have to do something!" John hissed. Now that he had regained his breath John began struggling anew, but Bane held him so tightly against the brick that John couldn't move.

"No you don't," Bane said, not even sounding winded by John's struggling. "You are not Batman."

"No, I'm not," John agreed. "But maybe I can be something else."

"Yes," Bane sighed. "Dead. I will not let Gotham extinguish your fire."

John's eyes narrowed. "Do you have so little faith in me?"

"I am thinking realistically. You are clearly not," Bane said.

John's jaw clenched until it ached, his heartbeat pounding angrily in his ears, demanding some form of action. With John's body pumped full of adrenaline Bane's words stung, even though with a clearer mind John might have agreed with him. "I can't just let assholes act like this and get away with it."

Bane removed some of his weight from John, leaving just enough to keep John pinned without causing his back to hurt from being against the wall. "I understand this is important to you. But I am asking you to think. Dying will not help your city."

John opened his mouth to continue arguing, and then closed his mouth again when Bane's words sunk in. John was angry, furious with his inactivity and with Bane for hindering him, but he had to admit that Bane had a point. John could race out and try to break up the fight but there was a good possibility he would end up seriously hurt or dead due to the encounter. Bane could follow him out and join the fray but that was putting Bane at risk of discovery. John wouldn't allow that.

Think! He told himself, trying to push past the adrenaline coursing through his veins, howling for blood. Bane was right; there wasn't much John could do by running out into the street. But maybe he could get some backup. An idea flashed through John's mind and he reached down toward his pocket. Bane caught his wrist and pinned it against the wall, and when John looked up he saw that Bane's eyes were sharp and frenzied. "I will not lose you!"

John was still angry with him, but he couldn't stop his heart from clenching with affection at Bane's concern for his wellbeing. He had come up with a solution though, so John held Bane's gaze. "Trust me."

He could feel Bane's hand twitch around his wrist and then withdraw, giving John full control of his right hand. John immediately dug into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone, dialling 911. Each second that passed as the phone rang before someone picked up had John fidgeting in Bane's hold, but before he could give up entirely on the police his call was finally answered. He explained that he was reporting an in-progress attack and gave the address as well as any descriptors of the attackers he knew the police could use, and then hung up.

In the silence of the alley John could hear a final, pained groan and then the sound of someone spitting. "Maybe this'll teach you to carry some extra cash to pay for your safety next time you decide to travel through our territory," one of the attackers said.

John heard another hit to flesh, a sharp cry, fading laughter and then silence. He clenched his eyes closed, breathing quickly as he tried to calm himself down. While John and Bane had bickered, that man had been beaten up and left on the sidewalk in the cold. The police had said they would be there in ten minutes but by then the attackers would be long gone.

John was frustrated and anxious to do something but Bane was leaning against him, keeping him immobile. Bane's face was tucked against John's neck, breathing in John's scent on each long inhale. And although it softened John's anger slightly to feel Bane holding him so close, he was not in the mood.

He raised his hands and pushed against Bane's chest until Bane stepped back, giving John space and freedom. John dropped his phone back into his pocket and then pulled out his apartment key, pressing it into Bane's hand. "Go home, I'll meet you there."

"Where are you planning to go?" Bane raised an eyebrow, looking unimpressed.

"I'm going to stay with him until the police arrive," John tilted his head towards the street.

"Then I will stay also," Bane said.

John rolled his eyes. Bane's concern was endearing; his hypocrisy was not. "The police will be here in less than ten minutes. While I am pleased that the general public doesn't seem to recognize you without your mask, I am not risking any cops seeing you." Bane pocketed the key but didn't move. John sighed and stepped forward. He held Bane's frozen cheeks between his palms and kissed him with all the fury and passion he had left in his body. Then he pushed Bane away with enough strength to cause him to stumble. "Now go!"

Bane stared at him for another second and then turned and ran, heading to the far mouth of the alley to take a different route back to the apartment. Even though John was worried about him getting spotted, John knew Bane had enough skill and experience at hiding from the police to make it back safely. He listened until Bane's footsteps faded and then faced the nearer street, racing out into the open.

The attacked man was still sprawled on the sidewalk, unmoving. The rest of the street was empty, though John doubted it was a coincidence when he saw another pedestrian turn the corner onto the street, see the motionless man and turn back to take a different street. John was disgusted at the unknown pedestrian but not as much as with himself.

John ran across the street and knelt by the man's head, feeling for a pulse. He found one and breathed a sigh of relief. John looked the man over, assessing the wounds he could see based on the fight he had heard; as far as he could tell, the man would need to go to the hospital but wasn't in danger of dying. That didn't make John feel any less guilty though, and John focused on gently shaking the man awake.

The man woke in a panic but John soothed him, assuring him that help was on the way. John was relieved to see the man calm down again, laying still on the pavement as a few uncaring cars drove past. John asked the man a few questions to ensure that his memory was intact, and pulled off his coat to throw over the man when he began to shiver violently and groan as his injuries were jostled.

By the time the police arrived John couldn't feel his fingers, arms, or face. He tried to stand up to greet the two police officers who stepped out of the police cruiser but found his legs frozen at their bent angle. Luckily John knew one of the cops from his old precinct, a soft-spoken man named Drew who helped John to his feet and got his coat back on and done up. Through numb lips John mumbled a fudged account of what he had seen, saying he had happened across the fight as the attackers were walking away.

"I thought I heard someone say you handed in your badge," Drew said in confusion while his partner called for an ambulance.

"I did," John said, shoving his hands into his pockets in a futile search for warmth. He didn't feel like explaining himself right now and silently prayed that Drew wouldn't push the subject.

Luckily, Drew just nodded in understanding. "It's in the blood. And lucky for this guy you found him."

John tried to smile but knew it came out as a grimace. If this victim had been truly lucky then John would have protected him from getting beaten up. "Is there any more information you need for my statement?"

"No, I think we have everything." Drew clapped John on the shoulder, a touch John barely felt as his body fought to warm up now that his coat was back on. "Go get warm, Blake. And thanks. We'll take care of him from here."

John tried to smile again and then gave up; he didn't deserve any thanks. He parted with a wave and a farewell and quickly walked down the sidewalk towards his apartment. He hoped that Bane had made it back safely and that John wouldn't encounter any other idiots on the street, uninterested in any further confrontations tonight.

Thankfully he didn't run into anyone and made it into the apartment lobby without further incident. John headed for the stairs and walked up quickly, his body still thrumming with adrenaline and anger. Drew had thanked him for calling the police and staying with the victim until they arrived but John should have done more. But Bane had held him back, turned John selfish. The warmth that came from Bane's concern for him warred with John's frustration at failing a citizen, and by the time he reached his apartment he was a whirlwind of pent up aggression and energy.

The door was unlocked when John tried the doorknob, and he stepped inside the apartment quietly. He slid the locks closed behind him and kicked off his boots, but kept his coat on for extra warmth as his body slowly began to thaw. Bane was leaning against the wall where the hallway turned into the living room, eyes locking on John as soon as he arrived even though Bane said and did nothing.

John, uninterested in tiptoeing around this, walked directly up to Bane and sealed their lips together. John felt like he was going to explode if he didn't release some of his built up energy, and this seemed like the most pleasant way of doing so. Bane's arms came around John's waist as John clutched onto Bane's shoulder with one hand and held the back of his head with the other hand, deepening the kiss until it was vicious and burning.

Bane pushed away from the wall and John stumbled, but Bane held them flush together and picked John up a second later. John grunted and hooked his legs on the angle of Bane's hips, holding himself aloft as Bane quickly moved them into the living room and onto the couch. Bane sat down and took John with him, who settled in his lap and began grinding his hips in a demanding circle.

Bane groaned but could say nothing as John continued to kiss him greedily, their teeth knocking together with their zealous movements. At the same time John's shaking fingers fumbled blindly with the hem of Bane's shirt, tugging it over Bane's head in a rush before dropping his hands immediately to his next target: the button of Bane's pants. Bane pressed the heel of his palm against John's crotch and John moaned, nipping angrily at Bane's collarbone as his frozen fingers continued to fail him.

John got Bane's pants undone at the same time as Bane worked John's zipper down, fabric straining with their combined force. John stood on shaky legs and pulled off his pants and underwear, not willing to take the time to remove his socks and shirt before sneaking his fingers below Bane's waistline. With one sharp tug John got Bane's pants and underwear halfway down his thighs and that was all he needed before he retook his position on Bane's lap.

When he was spent John collapsed, feeling the new tiredness in his spine and limbs that had struggled to support his demanding arch. John reached up to brush fingers through his hair but found his arms too shaky to lift. He gave up and left them to rest against the couch, too focused on trying to remember how to breathe.

He groaned and shifted slightly when Bane withdrew but remained on the couch instead of pursuing him, eyes half lidded. Bane knelt over him, one hand on the couch by John's shoulder to prop up his weight while his other hand skimmed through John's hair, soothing him into an exhausted, content lull. "Better?"

John hummed and tilted his head back, pressing his lips to Bane's wrist before relaxing again. His skin was beginning to feel a bit chilled again, sweat meeting the air, and he shivered. Still he didn't move, emotionally and physically spent. John grunted when he felt the cushions dip and rise as Bane removed his weight, but before John could find enough energy to peel his eyes open he felt strong arms around his middle, hoisting him up.

Taking the hint, John wrapped his arms around Bane's scored shoulders while Bane's fingers hooked under his thighs. They remained chest to chest as Bane carried John into the bedroom, setting him down and pulling the blankets up to his chin. John knew he was a mess but decided not to care until tomorrow when he would shower. He fumbled with his shirt until Bane helped him out of it and then John slumped back against the pillows, already half asleep.

Their coupling had driven all of his anger, frustration and guilt out, leaving only exhaustion and a lingering thought that he had done all he currently could do for that poor man on the street. It wasn't exactly a sense of pride that filled John, but it was one of mild satisfaction. Until he found a better way to properly protect himself and others on the streets, John had helped to the best of his ability.

He would've drifted off immediately except he could still feel Bane's weight dipping one side of the bed, rather than Bane getting up and slipping under the covers with him. John forced his eyes open into slits, gazing up at Bane through his lashes. "You coming to bed?"

Instead of answering right away, Bane cupped John's cheek and jaw with his palm. Bane's thumb brushed over John's lips softly and John stretched languidly, enjoying the kiss. Bane still didn't lie down though, and John's eyebrows furrowed as he opened his eyes wider. He found Bane studying him, looking nearly as exhausted as John felt but also sad.

"It is not that I don't have faith in you," Bane said quietly, regret in his words. "It is my fear of your potential. I dread that you will sacrifice too much and I will lose you."

John reached up and rested his hand on top of Bane's, pressing his lips against the rough pad of Bane's thumb. "You won't lose me."

"The same way you thought you would never lose your friend Bruce?" Bane posed. John frowned, struggling in vain to find enough energy to maintain this discussion properly. "Few plan to die, my love."

The combination of his exhaustion, memories of Bruce and the other loved ones John had lost, and the incredibly rare endearment from Bane's lips, John began to cry. The thought of dying and leaving Bane alone in the world hurt as much as the thought of losing Bane. John could feel his stomach begin to roil and his tears wet the pillow as he cried quietly, subdued. "I promise I won't die," he whispered.

Bane kissed John's temple. "Sleep," Bane said. "You will feel better in the morning."

John reached for Bane and calmed when Bane laced their fingers together. "Stay with me."

This time Bane kissed John's quivering lips. "Always." John wanted to argue but his plan to wear himself out had been too successful. John only managed to stay awake long enough to feel Bane moving out of his pants and slipping under the covers with him before sleep claimed him.

A/N: My tumblr: onewhositswiththeturtles(dot-tumblr-dot-com)