"If I knew what he did, do you think I would have married him?" Isabelle snapped as Jim Gordon sat next to her, his mouth asking questions out of routine as the young woman sat back on the sofa, her legs crossed and her hand itched the back of her neck as Jim sighed once, sniffing and then messing with his glasses as he looked at Isabelle.

"No..." he replied. "No...I suppose not..."

"I didn't know anything," Isabelle defended herself. "Jonathan was the man who I married, not the Scarecrow." She assured him and he sighed once, realising that Jonathan's wife was a dead end. He hadn't told her anything and she wasn't involved in any of his crazy plots.

"He's still out there," Gordon said to her, pushing his notebook and pen back into his coat pocket as he stood up in the apartment and looked into the kitchen for a second where Lydia was making dinner. The apartment seemed sparse as Gordon looked through it and Isabelle remained looking at a certain desk which sat in the corner.

"You'll have police protection around the clock," he assured her and Isabelle shook her head, managing to tear her eyes away from the wood and back onto Gordon.

"There's no need," she said to him. "I'm not staying in Gotham."

"What?" but it wasn't Gordon who spoke. Lydia rushed from the kitchen, a tea towel in her hands as she dried her fingers and glared at her daughter who sighed once in response. "What do you mean you're not staying in Gotham?" she snapped and Gordon straightened out the suit which he was wearing as he motioned to the door.

"I think I should go. If there's anything you need then don't hesitate to call," he informed Isabelle and she nodded once at him as he let himself out of the apartment and Isabelle stood up, pacing the length of the back of the sofa as Lydia's eyes remained fixed on her.

"You're leaving?" she snapped at her daughter. "Where are you going to go?"

"Anywhere," Isabelle informed her. "I'm not staying here, mom."

"I understand that," Lydia hastily agreed. "You can move back in with me and Daniel."

"No," Isabelle replied, her voice stern. "I have to leave the city. There's nothing in Gotham, mom."

"You have a job-"

"-Because of dad," Isabelle interrupted. "They only hired me because of my name. Gotham is the place where I spent three years of my life being miserable because I had to study a subject which I hated...it's the place where I thought I met the man...the man who I still love, mom, no matter how hard I try to hate him. He...I thought he was perfect...and he murdered my father...and he tried to ruin Gotham...there's nothing, mom."

Lydia remained silent, watching as her daughter gave her speech and she thought she was going to cry once again. That was all Isabelle had been doing for the past two days. She'd been unable to eat without wanting to throw up and she couldn't sleep due to his face being in her dreams all the time.

"You're twenty one and you can do what you want, but, I'd prefer for you to stay."

"It's not possible."

...

It took another two days before Isabelle managed to step out into the sunlight. She'd been holed up in the apartment on her computer, searching for somewhere to go. The USA was a vast place, there had to be somewhere for her to run to. She didn't have a lot of money. She didn't have anyone. She'd be alone. But, she didn't mind. As long as she could leave Gotham then she wasn't bothered.

There was one more person who she had to see. She needed to know the truth from him and that meant leaving the apartment to find him.

She knew Wayne Manor had burnt down so she didn't know where to go. She called the office which gave her Wayne's personal number and she took a deep breath before calling him. He told her that he'd pick her up from her apartment and that was how she found herself standing on the sidewalk, waiting for him to approach. His car was easily recognisable as he leant cross his seat and pushed the door open, smiling up at her as she looked at him.

"Hello," she greeted him formally and moved into his car, shutting the door as Bruce folded up the newspaper which he had been reading before the car drove off.

"How are you doing?" he asked her and she looked out the tinted windows onto the passing streets.

"I'm leaving," she informed him with a stern nod to herself. "So, I guess I'm handing in my notice."

"You're leaving Gotham?" he checked with her, his eyes going wide as his eyebrows moved up and Alfred remained silent as he drove, wondering what was happening.

"There's nothing here, Mr Wayne."

"Bruce," he replied. "Call me Bruce."

"Or Batman?" Isabelle wondered and he looked away from her and took a deep breath as she fiddled with her hands in her lap and smiled gently to the skirt which she was wearing. "It was you, wasn't it?"

"You're one of a small number who know that," he whispered to her and she shrugged to herself.

"It doesn't matter," she assured him as he rolled his window down slightly to gain some air. "I won't tell anyone."

"Thank you," Bruce whispered, his voice thankful as he looked at the young woman sat opposite him and he studied her features. She really was quite pretty.

"Why the mask?" Isabelle enquired after a second as Bruce turned to face the seat in front of him, looking at the back of his butler's head as he spoke lowly.

"There are always people you care about."

"You do it to protect them?" Isabelle checked and he nodded. "Why did you tell me then?"

"In the long run, I'm not sure," Bruce admitted, his shoulders moving up and down as Isabelle remained silent, watching the billionaire play with the tie against his chest before he ran a hand through his hair. "At the time, it seemed like the right thing to do. I needed to make sure you were safe...if you had an incline of who I was then maybe you'd believe me...you'd be more likely to believe me over some random man in a Bat suit. But then, I realised, you'd never believe me. Even if you knew I was Bruce Wayne, Crane would always win."

Isabelle remained silent, listening to him and he chuckled once, clapping his hands together before running them down his cheeks.

"He was your husband. I just had to make sure that he didn't hurt you." Bruce said; his voice gentler than normal as he thought back to the hour he had done researching her in the cave.

"He never hurt me...physically, anyway," Isabelle snorted once, trying to regain composure. Bruce Wayne didn't need to see her cry. He wouldn't appreciate her weakness. He was the Batman, for goodness sake. "Why do you do it?"

"What?" Bruce tried to clarify. "Why do I run around Gotham dressed as a bat?"

"Yes."

"This is the city where I grew up," Bruce spoke lowly. "My parents were murdered...it's corrupt and it's horrifying to watch it. Someone needed to do something and make sure it could be saved. I do it because I don't want anyone else to suffer the way I did when I was a boy."

"And it has to be you, does it?" Isabelle asked him and he shrugged awkwardly at her, unsure of what to say to that as he watched her play with the ring on her finger.

"It can be anyone. The Batman is a symbol...but...there will be many out there who don't have it in them. I do what I need to," Bruce assured her.

"You risk your life for a city who wouldn't know the real you if you died tomorrow," Isabelle informed him and he closed his eyes for a brief second before shuffling in the back seat, listening to the noise of Gotham as it whirled past them and Alfred rubbed the corner of his eye. He didn't want Master Wayne to be here.

"It doesn't matter," he murmured. "The Batman and I are two different people."

"They look the same from where I'm sitting," Isabelle quickly responded and Bruce's lips tugged up into a smile.

"I'll do it until Gotham doesn't need me anymore."

"Do you think that day will ever come?"

"I can't tell the future," Bruce responded, his palms held flat in the air in defence. "Where are you leaving for?" he decided to ask, changing the topic away from him being the Batman.

Isabelle managed a small smile at she shrugged gently.

"I don't know," she admitted to him. "I've bought a ticket for a flight to New York tomorrow night. Whether I stay there or move on is a different story."

"Do you have enough to get you-"

"-Seriously?" Isabelle interrupted him, her eyes wide as Bruce looked at her in confusion. "You were just about to ask me if I had enough money, weren't you?"

"I...I...we may owe you a month's salary which could help," Bruce blurted out and Isabelle chuckled once, leaning her head back so her blonde curls cascaded over her shoulders.

"I'll be fine," she promised him. "I can find work...I'll make it..."

"It's a big city," he whistled.

"The crime rate is lower than Gotham's. I think I can handle it," she promised him.

"You're not running from Gotham, are you?" Bruce checked and she looked sceptically at him. "You're running from him."

"I'm doing both," Isabelle admitted. "He...he's still out there...somewhere...and I don't know what he plans to do or where he plans to go, but, he's none of my concern anymore..."

"What if he finds you in New York?"

"He'd never pass the border check. They're searching for him."

"And don't you want to make sure he's caught?" Wayne asked her. "He could come after you."

"I don't know," Isabelle admitted. "He could come after me or he could have bigger things on his mind. He often spent nights at the office...clearly working on this toxin...I suppose."

"And yet, you still wear your wedding band," Bruce noted, the pair of them looking down at her finger as Isabelle hid her hand from sight by her side.

"Jonathan...he wasn't always a monster..." she assured Bruce and he noted how her eyes watered up slightly and he moved closer out of instinct, his hand moving onto her cheek as she looked into his eyes and the pair of them remained silent. The atmosphere changed in the car, the tension between them being able to be cut by a knife as the car drew to halt and Bruce leaned in closer, his breath tickling against Isabelle's face as the pair of them closed their eyes.

His lips hit hers with force as he kissed her deeply and then became gentle.

Isabelle remained focused as she thought about what was happening...but there was nothing...there was no spark between them. It was just like a kiss in high school at some drunken party. Bruce pulled away, opening his eyes as Isabelle coughed once and looked at him. Her stomach churned at the thought of what she had just done. Her husband had just been caught for being some psycho...she shouldn't be out kissing a billionaire playboy! She should be in bits. She was in bits. God, she felt guilty.

"Bruce...I..." Isabelle stuttered as Bruce leant back and ran his hands through his hair. He'd wanted to feel something. He'd wanted it to be as good as it had been with Rachel earlier in the week. But there was nothing. He cared for the woman. But, he cared for the entire city of Gotham.

"I know," he simply said.

"You didn't feel anything?"

"Unfortunately not."

"Neither did I...but now...I feel terrible..."

"Was I that bad?" he tried to joke and she shook her head.

"I was," she mumbled. "I'm married...and...I did that..."

"Don't you think your marriage has broken up?"

"I know it has. I still shouldn't have done it. I don't know why..."

"Comfort," Bruce simply spoke the word. He thought that was why he did it too. Rachel had told him there was no chance of them being together as long as he was Batman. Isabelle had lost her husband, the man she loved. Both of them thought that was the right way to comfort each other.

"Can you drop me off at my apartment, please?"

...

Isabelle groaned as she heard the phone ring the next morning and she rolled around on the sofa, trying to cover her ears but the noise wouldn't stop. She refused to sleep in her bed. It was too vast and empty. The sofa would do until tonight when she was out of Gotham on a plane. Her fear of flying didn't seem too bad as she thought about leaving the mess behind her.

"Hello?" she spoke into the phone.

"Isabelle!" her mother's voice gasped. "I'm not scolding you or being condescending and if I was in your position...well...I'd maybe do the same thing...this is Bruce Wayne we're talking about...but so soon after you found out about Jonathan...tell me you haven't moved on?"

Isabelle remained confused, standing up and looking outside where the cop car was stationed until the afternoon and she rubbed her eyes, blinking into the daylight as she did so.

"What are you talking about?" Isabelle wondered, dazed and pondering.

"You don't know?"

"Obviously not," she deadpanned with her mother.

"You're on the front page. The papers are having a field day. Wife of crazy doctor and billionaire playboy. There's a photo of you two kissing in his car!"

"What?" Isabelle exclaimed. How was the possible? Oh God...he had the window rolled down...someone...the car had stopped...

"The angle isn't very good but it is clear that it is you," Lydia shrieked. "They're wondering if you were seeing him whilst happily married and working for him."

"What?" her exclamation was louder than previously as she moved up and down the room, her heart leaping in her chest. "That's absurd...nothing was going on...it was a stupid mistake...he...I was confused and-"

"-Did he take advantage?" her mom wondered and Isabelle rolled her eyes.

"No!" she snapped. "Of course he didn't. I was...we were...it doesn't matter...I've got to pack, mom."

"You're still going?"

"After hearing about this, I have no choice."

...

Hiding in Gotham meant constantly lurking in the shadows and blending in. Jonathan knew that. He also knew he had to get to see his wife. He had been walking around in the early morning, the time when people like bankers and lawyers went to work, none of them noting him as he blended in with his dapper suit. His hair was slightly ragged, but, having it cut didn't seem like an option at that moment. He noted people picking up newspapers from the stand selling them as he sighed, wondering if he had made headlines.

"Billionaire Playboy and Doctor's Wife found to be having an affair!" the man cried as he tried to sell more papers. Jonathan froze, looking at the massive blow up photo on the front page as he snuck past, grabbing one and handing over a dollar he kept as he continued walking, looking at the photo and he felt anger build up inside of him. He folded the paper under his arm before reaching for his glasses and placing them into his pocket. It was time to talk to his little wife.

...

Isabelle shut her case as she checked the time in the bedroom. She made sure the wardrobe was shut, glimpsing her husband's side of the wardrobe which was still neatly intact, but, she didn't move anything. She continued her checking making sure everything was in order before she heard the slamming of a door. Her mother was early.

"Honey, I'm home."

Isabelle froze, instantly wondering what to do as his cold voice moved through her body, her hairs standing on edge as she felt her breath deepen. It couldn't be. How could he be here? Isabelle took a deep breath, moving out from the bedroom and into the living room and there he was.

He hadn't changed. She didn't know if she expected him to have, but, he was the same. He wore a smart suit on his body, a briefcase by his side on the floor as his pale face looked down onto a newspaper and Isabelle felt herself pale, seeing what he was pretending to read as he ran a hand over his high cheekbone.

"It seems like you moved on quickly," he hissed at her, holding the paper up so that she could see the picture. "Of course, the news have got it all wrong, I know that. I'm a psychiatrist. I know my own wife."

"Jonathan," she whispered his name, "what are you doing here?"

"Did I not tell you that I'd be back?" he checked with her, his brow arched as he threw the paper to the floor, his hands moving behind his back as he walked around the living room. "I know that you would never have an affair with Bruce Wayne. I also know that you felt nothing from that kiss. The way you had your eyes slightly open and your hands weren't on him told me as much. It was some kind of comfort. Some kind of rushed decision...he wasn't me, was he?"

"What makes you think I want to be anywhere near you?" Isabelle hissed at him as he chuckled once, his hand reaching out to her and dropping down to her neck as she took in a sharp intake of breath and his finger danced along her collarbone as he watched her shiver under his touch.

"You do," he said confidently. "But, if we're going to be married then I can't have you being near other men, it seems."

"We're not," Isabelle snapped, managing to gain enough composure to snatch her body from his hold as she grabbed onto the cell phone and looked at him. "What makes you think I won't call the police right now?"

"You wouldn't," he assured her confidently. "You don't have the guts."

"You murdered my father!"

"I did what was necessary," Jonathan replied, his voice never rising as she began to shake and cry. "It had to be done, Isabelle."

"It didn't," she shook her head. "You're sick, Jonathan. You need help."

"No," he replied. "I need you."

"Too late," she said and he saw how she actually began to dial in the number for the police. He rushed over to her, his hand knocking the phone from her grasp as he pinned her against the sofa, her body squirming under his as he sighed once and reached into his pocket. He knew it would come in handy one day. He pulled the bottle out, undoing the lid as Isabelle moaned and snapped.

"Time for your medicine," he simply spoke, one hand pulling her jaw open as she looked at him in shock and he poured the fluid down her. He closed her jaw, holding her nose shut so she had no choice but to swallow.

"Everything will be fine," he promised her as she fell to sleep and he sat her up, moving her into his lap and holding her limp body against his. "I'm back."

...

A/N: Thank you to reverie-scriptor, BaDWolF89, kaflute14, Undertaker's Hattress, juicycouturevalerie (your review was soo kind!), Eva Sirico, Sam0728, Guest (thanks for spending a lot of time reading this! Glad I didn't disappoint!) and LivinJgrl123 for reviewing!

And to clear up questions asked by mahxie – not sure on the Joker front yet, don't think I could do his character true justice, but we shall see! And no! Bruce and Isabelle won't love each other! She's in too deep with good, old, psychotic Jonathan!

Anyway, another chapter tonight sound good? Let me know what you think!