Thanks everyone for your support in adding, following and reviewing this story - it means so much to me. That being said, this is an exclusive Blake chapter. Thought it'd be interesting to see things through his perspective - next chapter should be a pure Natalie chapter or a mixture between the two - I don't know which yet. Otherwise, hope you guys like :)

takara410 and atiketook: Thanks for the reviews - here's your next chapter :)

JayJay(Guest): Hey, now, come on, I've stubbled across a few Bane fics on here that have been halfway decent, so I think that might be a little unfair. That being said, I very much welcome your cheerleading and I hope you keep it up. Even through this exclusive Blake chapter . . . ;)

Remember: Read, Review and Enjoy!

- Nagiana

A Day Later . . .

"Blake, son, I'm putting my foot down. You have to go home!"

Blake gave a stubborn shake of his head at Gordon's words. He was leaning on his elbows on his desk, looking exhausted and utterly miserable. As Gordon moved down the stairs to the main floor and moved to join him, he witnessed Blake tiredly running his fingers through his hair. "With all due respect, sir, I can't. Natalie's still out there and I refuse to rest until I find her and make sure she's safe!" He spoke, voice husky with lack of sleep, but still retaining that hard, determined tone that Gordon reluctantly found himself respecting more often than not. Blake reminded him of himself when he was younger - stubborn, determined and unbelievably hot-headed at times. And in ways, Natalie resembled Barbara, which made Gordon sympathizing with Blake, even easier.

Gordon rolled his eyes before answering: "Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you're not gonna find her when you're about to collapse from lack of sleep, son! Now go home and get some rest. I'll keep working the case and if anything new pops up, you'll be the first to know, I promise." He told him with a genial slap on the back. Blake continued to sit there for a moment. He had been up for a day and a half now, worried sick about Natalie – where she was, what was happening to her . . . if she was even alive or dead. The thought sickened him to his stomach and he hadn't eaten for damn near a day and a half, too – hadn't been able to keep anything down. He knew he should go see Gam Gam and probably write or even grow a pair long enough to go see Billy, but couldn't help but think of what the point would be. Billy would be useless sitting in Blackgate the way he was, and Gam Gam . . . who knew how much of a setback this would be for her in her condition. And then there was the problem of her nursing home bills that were due at the beginning of the upcoming month . . . the longer he sat there and thought of everything, the more and more claustrophobic he started to feel in his own life. How could he even begin to do any of this without her?

He heard Gordon heave a sigh as he clapped a firm hand down on his shoulder. "We'll find her, Blake, I promise! Natalie's a strong woman – she'll be fine! In fact, she's probably already lectured her kidnappers into cleaning their hideout with their toothbrushes!" He spoke with a laugh, and Blake shook his head before turning to look up at him. Gordon recoiled slightly - even the bags of his eyes, had bags.

"How do you know that? How can you promise me something like that? We don't know who hit the bank yet, just that there were a lot of them and they were well armed and well trained. We don't know what they wanted or where they took her and Kai. As of right now, we have absolutely nothing to go on and yet, you can stand there and promise me that we'll find her!" He gave a laugh and shook his head as he got to his feet. He rubbed the bridge of his nose between his middle and pointer fingers for a moment. "Damn . . . you know what, I'm sorry, Gordon. I shouldn't have jumped you like that. I'll go home and try to get some sleep. Your right, I need it. I can't carry on like this. Natalie deserves the best I can give to this investigation and this isn't my best. Not by a long shot." Gordon nodded and waved his hand dismissively through the air.

"Think nothing of it – it's to be expected, even. The love of your life and her best friend gets themselves kidnapped during an explosive bank robbery, and you have no idea where they've been taken. You have no idea what's happened to them . . . it's to be expected for you to be a little on edge."

Blake shook his head as he slid on his jacket. "No, that's just . . . look, can I level with you, Gordon?" He asked, and Gordon nodded.

"Yes, of course, Blake."

Blake heaved a sigh and looked away for a moment, appearing almost as if he was rethinking what he was about to say. "Look, don't get me wrong - I'm worried about Kai – of course I am! But at the same time, I can't help but feel like I'd . . . I'd let whoever has them, keep her, if only it meant that I could get Natalie back and have her in my arms again tonight," He swallowed hard and shook his head. "And believe me, I feel like shit for even thinking such a thing and I know it's most probably my worry and exhaustion talking, but all the same, there it is." Gordon stayed silent upon this confession, not really knowing what to say. Finally, Blake ended the slightly awkward silence by giving him a tense smile. "I'm going home. Call me if anything new comes up?" Gordon nodded and returned his smile with one of his own.

"Yes, yes, of course. Have a nice rest of the afternoon." Blake nodded and gave him another tight smile before turning around and heading for the front entrance way, pushing his hands down into his pockets as he did so.

After standing outside and unsuccessfully trying to hail a cab which only ignored him and continued speeding on its way like cabs in big cities were wont to do, he let out a groan and rubbed his face with his hands. He was exhausted, both mentally and physically, he was hungry (even though it'd be useless to eat; he'd just throw it all up again) and he was quickly growing irritable and a headache. He needed to get home and get some sleep soon. Gordon was right – he couldn't find Natalie running on fumes.

"Need a ride?"

Blake heaved a sigh and turned around, expecting to see a fellow officer but was shocked to find none other than Bruce Wayne parked on the curb beside him, a small, almost amused smile on his aquiline face. After a moment of having to pick his jaw up off the floor, Blake gave a jerky nod. "I, uh . . . don't wanna put you out of your way." He spoke, and Wayne shook his head.

"Nah, you won't put me out of way. There's a funny thing that I come to realize, though. For some reason, I have all the time in the world, now. And you look exhausted and I owe Gordon a few favors, so . . ." He gave a shrug and a tight smile. "Hop on in. Blake, right?"

Blake eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he nodded. The car door swung out and he ducked into the dim space before closing the door behind him. "Uh, yeah, right. It's Blake – John Blake. How'd you know?" Wayne gave a chuckle.

"Gordon talks about you a lot. You have a lot of potential, apparently." He spoke, and Blake nodded as Wayne's chauffeur pulled away from the curb and out into traffic. "Where to?"

"Oh, I'm sorry – 514 South Talladega Street. Home." Wayne nodded.

"Haven't slept in a few days, huh? You look exhausted, if you don't mind me saying." Blake nodded in agreement.

"That's 'cause I am. My girlfriend, she, uh . . . well, you've probably heard of the bank robbery yesterday by now, right?" Wayne nodded. "Yeah, well, she worked there as a bank teller and ended up being taken by the robbers. Her best friend was, too, but Natalie . . . Natalie's all I really care about right now, as utterly selfish as that sounds." Wayne gave a slow nod.

"I understand. I'm sorry." Blake gave a shrug.

"Thanks, although I don't know what apologies are gonna do. Natalie's a strong woman, I'm sure she's fine, but . . . all the same, we have absolutely no leads, so . . . it's a blind shot in the dark as to where she and Kai are, at the moment."

Wayne gave a nonchalant shrug. "Oh, I don't know about a shot in the dark . . ." Blake shot him a curious look, and Wayne returned it with a smile. "I have a few strings I can pull, if you'd want me to pull them. Maybe I can dig up something for you?" He suggested, and Blake gave a grin and laugh.

"Unless those strings lead to Batman, then don't bother. Everything we've tried so far has led to nothing. No offense, but I don't know why your strings would be any more effective than the station's."

Wayne adopted a small smile on his face and didn't seem insulted by Blake's words. In fact, he even changed the subject, ever-so-slightly. "Batman's been gone for eight years now, and still, people long for his return. Is he truly that needed now, in Gotham?" Blake shook his head.

"It wasn't him, per say. Batman was a . . . a symbol – something to hope for in the dark. The way I grew up, every single one of us wanted to be Batman. We'd play Batman and Robbers, and . . ." He gave a laugh and a shake of his head. "You know what? Forget about it. It's nothing." Wayne gave him another smile.

"There were a lot of you?"

Blake gave a laugh. "I'd say. Growing up in an orphanage, there's always a lot of you."

"And what about your girlfriend? Natalie, is it? What was her childhood like?" Blake glanced at him, too tired to think anything was odd about Bruce Wayne of all men asking about his girlfriend's childhood.

"Her parents died when she was young, too. Car crash. Her and her brother went to live with her grandmother and were raised by her." Wayne nodded, eyebrow raised in an emotion that Blake, in his half-asleep stage, couldn't readily decipher.

"Two orphans who fell in love with each other despite it all. Now, what are the odds of that happening?"

Blake glanced at him. "In Gotham? I'd say pretty high. And something tells me it's about to get a little bit higher. Pretty soon, Natalie and I are gonna be the majority, not the minority."

There was a reason Blake had avoided going home once he learned what had happened at the bank. Everything would be as they had left it the morning they both left for work. Natalie's make-up and hairbrush would still be scattered along the bathroom countertop; her clothes that she had taken out of her drawers and the closet and then judged worthy of wearing that work day before deciding against them, would still be scattered across the still unmade bed. Their coffee cups would still be in the dish strainer, their bed . . . he felt himself pause for a moment outside the front door to their apartment. They had made love in that bed the morning they went to work, hadn't they – that morning she was kidnapped? Their bed would still probably smell of them – smell of her.

The thought made him feel sick all over again.

Eventually, he realized how strange he must look standing there outside his front door, keys in his hand and a blank expression on his face. Upon realizing this, he quickly stuck his key in the lock and after quickly turning it, opened the door. Stepping into the warm space, he heaved a sigh and closed the door and locked it before tossing his backpack on the nearby armchair. Eyes running over everything in the space surrounding him and registering the sharp pang in his heart, he gave it all a cursory glance before crossing the room. He plopped his cellphone and keys down onto the glass-topped coffee table before heading down the hallway to their bedroom. He avoided gazing at the pictures that hung on the walls – the pictures of them smiling and laughing. Already, he was thinking of her like she was dead, never to return, and he knew he couldn't think like that. She was alive, he knew she was alive – he would have felt it if she died! But the pictures . . . seeing the pictures of them smiling and laughing in a happier time, would knock him right straight down into that hole of depression he did not want to fall into.

And besides, he was only here to sleep – that was all. He wasn't here to linger.

Stepping into the white tiled bathroom, he saw that her things were indeed still scattered haphazardly across the countertop. Smiling slightly, he stripped quickly before cutting on the shower and hopping underneath the warm spray. Standing there under the water, he allowed it to run in rivulets down his lean, muscular body before running a hand over his face and stepping backwards slightly. Allowing his head to fall back against his shoulders, he allowed the water to run down his front then as he stood there and thought. He hadn't meant to descend so deep into his thoughts - reminiscing on happier times - but he had, and by the time the thoughts had finished running through his head, the shower spray had long gone cold.

Shivering slightly, he quickly washed himself before cutting off the water and stepping out. Dripping puddles onto the floor as he moved, he padded out of the bathroom without even toweling himself off (something that Natalie would no doubt have flipped her lid over). He moved sluggishly to the bed, where he collapsed naked on his front to the soft surface. He closed his eyes and lay there for a moment, trying to drift off to sleep, however, something kept him back.

Rolling over, he lay there and stared up at the ceiling for a moment before getting back to his feet. Grabbing up his pillow and the blanket from the bed, he moved into the living room, where he plopped the things down onto the couch. He couldn't sleep in there – couldn't sleep in their bed. It smelled too much like her – proved too much of a distraction to his already exhausted, overworked brain. All he could think of as he lay there, was that grin on her face when they woke up that morning - the way her lips felt pressed to his; the feel of her thick hair in his hands as he kissed her. The silkiness of her skin moving against his - how intoxicating it had been when she uttered his name in a breathless voice in his ear as she came. Her scent of lavender had wrapped around him and filled his head and distracted him instead of allowing him to fall asleep like it should have. So he plopped down onto the couch and tried the same. Closing his eyes, he found himself able to drift off a little easier, but something still held him back from succumbing to sleep for a good while - a fresh onslaught of memories.

"Oh Christ, John, I can just tell how much you're dying inside because of it!"

"Oh, you know I'm fuckin' dyin' inside, Nat!"

Jesus fuckin' Christ, He thought as he rolled onto his back and wearily rubbed at his face with his hand. Even the couch smells like her!

He must have fallen asleep sometime (the time of which, eluded him), for he was awoken much later in the evening by the ringing of his cellphone. Groaning in irritation at being woken up, he flipped over onto his other side and after working his arm out from underneath the blanket covering him, blindly searched for his cellphone amongst the clutter of the coffee table in front of him. When he finally found it, he swiped none-too-kindly across the screen before pressing it to his ear.

"Yeah? Wassup . . .?"

"Good. You got some sleep after all." Gordon spoke, much too cheerful for Blake to like much at that moment, and he nodded as he rubbed the heel of one hand into his right eye. His stomach growled and he was amazed that for once since Natalie's kidnapping, he actually wanted to eat. Maybe all he really did need was some good old fashioned sleep.

"Yeah, and it was amazing. Now why the hell'd you wake me up?"

"Well, there's good news and bad news that we've gotten since you left this afternoon." Gordon heaved with a sigh, and Blake gave his own sigh as he closed his eyes and willed the sleepy feeling away from his brain so that he could actually think.

"Well, start me out with the good news, I guess . . ."

"Well, we know who took Natalie."

All sleepiness instantly disappeared. Blake shot up on the couch, eyes wide and mind racing a mile a minute. They knew where she was, which meant they could get her back now . . . right?

"That's great, Gordon! I'll . . . I'll get dressed and come down to the station -!"

"Well, see now, that's where the bad news comes in, I'm afraid . . ." Gordon interrupted him, an apologetic tone to his voice that Blake did not like at all, and which made a heavy lead ball drop down into his stomach. "You sitting down for this, son?"

Blake resisted the urge to get up and scream at him to hurry up and spill it - that he needed to find Natalie because God only knew how terrified she was - and when he spoke, his voice was much more level that he had thought. "Yeah, yeah, just . . . who took her, Gordon?"

There was silence for a moment and when Gordon finally spoke his name, an icy cold finger of dread ran down Blake's spine. "I'm sorry, John. It was Bane."