"I don't know what you expect me to do, Isabelle," Jonathan informed his wife as soon as he had finished delivering verdicts for the day. He had kept Isabelle close to him, making sure she didn't run off as she stood in the crowds, Bane keeping watch over everything as Jonathan's beady eyes stayed on her.

When the day had finished, he rushed down, grabbing onto her arm and dragging her through the city hall and up a large staircase to the private office sectors where he was residing in. The make shift room was small, containing a large quilt for Jonathan to lie on and then another one for cover. He slammed the door shut, looking around the ruin of his new home as Isabelle leant against the wooden desk where papers were askew and thrown about.

"She needs help," Isabelle informed her ex-husband. "I wouldn't be here if I wasn't desperate."

"Charming," Jonathan drawled, sarcasm flowing from his mouth as he removed the large coat which he wore and he settled himself down onto a leather chair which he had managed to steal, his hands running along his cheeks. "I've waited eight years for this, Isabelle. You have no idea how I am feeling right now."

She remained mute, looking at her ex-husband as he looked back up at her, a small grin playing on his face as his hands slapped the arms of the chair which he was sat on.

"Eight years," he drawled. "And you haven't changed a bit."

"You have," she responded and he took his glasses from his eyes, rubbing the lens on his jacket as he shrugged awkwardly. "You look different."

"I'm thirty five," he snorted. "I'm ageing."

"I need your help," Isabelle tried to plead with him again. "Jonathan...please..."

"I can't," he said to her and he shook his head, his eyes searching hers as he tried to show her that he could do nothing to help the predicament which she found herself in. "Bane hasn't given me as much power as you'd like to think. And medicine isn't something which is easy to come across now. Everyone who needs it has taken it. Gotham has been given back to the people."

"So...there's nothing?" Isabelle whispered and Jonathan shook his head.

"No," he said back to her. "I'm sorry about your mother. She was...well...she was okay."

"Better than my father?" Isabelle retorted; folding her arms and Jonathan rolled his eyes. He didn't need this. He'd spent eight years doing his time.

"Anyone was better than him," Jonathan responded. "I still can't believe you got yourself caught. What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking that you could help me!" Isabelle snapped back at her ex husband, her finger pointing at him as she wildly moved her hands around, tightening the bobble in her hair before she shook her head. "I thought that you could help my mom! I thought that I meant something to you! I thought you would try for me!"

Jonathan remained silent, eyeing her up and down as she turned red under his gaze and he chuckled, placing his glasses back onto his eyes as he stood up, edging closer to her as she remained rooted to her spot, her chin jutted out and her eyes glaring into his.

"Are you trying to manipulate me?" he asked her and she began to open her mouth, a noise escaping her lips as she suddenly closed it and Jonathan grinned like a Cheshire Cat. "You were, weren't you? You think that I'd do anything to get you back because I'm not over you and you were willing because you want to save your mom." He informed her and she folded her arms over her body as Jonathan continued his smile, looking at her in slight disbelief.

"Do you honestly think that you can get me to do what you want?" Jonathan asked her, extending his hand and resting it onto her cheek, his thumb roaming around her soft, pale skin. "What happened to you?"

"I wised up," Isabelle said after a second, slapping his arm away from her as Jonathan's lips fell into a straight line, his eyes baring into hers as he bit down on his tongue.

"I think I preferred you when I met you." He informed her, his tone clipped and harsh. "Never mind, we'll soon install that naivety and vulnerability back into you."

"How?" Isabelle snapped at him. "I don't think you will, Jonathan. We only have four months left in this Godforsaken city!"

"We'd best make the most of the time which we have left then, hadn't we?" Jonathan responded to her and she snorted loudly. "I can't believe you only came back here to see if you could use me, Isabelle. What happened to your undying love to me?"

"It left," she lied to him, her eyes narrowing as she tried to lie to him and he laughed darkly once again. "I moved on, Jonathan."

"I don't think so," he responded. "How many times do I have to tell you that lying to me is pointless?"

"I'm not," she denied. "I built a life for myself in California."

"It's lonely though, isn't it?" he replied to her.

"I might like it like that."

"I don't think so."

"You don't know me, Jonathan."

"Oh, how you wish that was true," he said, his face deadly serious as Isabelle focused on controlling her breathing around him. Why did he have this effect on her? Even after all this time he mesmerised her. Even after all he had done.

"Well, you were stupid enough to get yourself caught here," Jonathan said, his shoulders shrugging as he wrapped his arms around her waist and she struggled in his hold as he trapped her against the wall. "You're not going anywhere, Isabelle."

"No!" she snapped at him, trying to shove at his chest as his hands roamed up and down her sides and her protests became weaker as he dipped his head down, his nose running along the edge of her neck as her body shivered under his touch and a moan moved out of her lips. "I have to go...Jonathan..."

"No," he replied, gently resting his lips onto her shoulder where her jumper had fallen down. "I've waited for this moment for such a long time. You can stand here and protest that you hate me...but we both know...don't we? We both know that I'm the only one who has ever meant anything to you...I'm your everything."

Jonathan placed his lips onto the hollow base of her throat as she closed her eyes, parting her lips as he worked his way up her throat, stopping at her chin, his stubble tickling her sensitive skin as his hair moved against her face. He slowly placed his long finger onto her bottom lip, his eyes staring into hers.

"I'll look after you," Jonathan promised her, kissing her on the cheek before noting the tears on her cheek.

"No," Isabelle suddenly shook her head, her hands moving onto his and pulling them from her body as he looked hurt, his eyes glowering as she backed away from him, turning her back to him and wiping her eyes. "No...you can't...you can't do this to me...you twisted me...and I can't go through it again."

"Do you think that's what I did?" Jonathan snapped at her, fed up of being soft with her when she was fighting against him. "You think I twisted your mind?"

"I don't know what you did!" Isabelle snapped at him, managing to whirl around and face him.

"You were willing, Isabelle," he reminded her. "You were more than willing to marry me and do anything which I asked of you."

"And as I said," Isabelle muttered at him. "Time has moved. I'm not going to stand here and pretend everything is okay...pretending that we can be what we were..."

"We can be if you just stop being so stubborn," he informed her. "It's obvious that you still want me, Isabelle."

"I want to go, Jonathan. I want to go back to my mom."

"I don't think so."

"She's dying!" Isabelle yelled at him, the tears falling quickly as Jonathan remained stone like, emotionless, cold. "I need to get back to her, Jonathan! It's bad enough you had Daniel...killed..."

"I didn't," he said bluntly. "I never told them to kill him. I didn't want that."

"Well, it happened," Isabelle responded. "She can't be alone."

"I'll have her brought here," Jonathan deadpanned with Isabelle.

"She wants to stay in her own home..." Isabelle said and Jonathan chuckled once, shaking his head at Isabelle.

"It's this or nothing," he informed her. "You're not leaving my side, Isabelle. You're going nowhere until you realise that I'm right"

"Looks like I'm going nowhere then."

...

Blake didn't know what to do. He had been running around Gotham like a headless chicken, searching for Isabelle until he realised that she must have done the unthinkable. He knew that Crane was involved. He knew that if he found Crane then he found Isabelle.

He didn't know why he was feeling so compelled to find Isabelle. He knew the city was in disarray and there was much more that he could do with his time, but, she seemed to be his main priority. He was beginning to care for her. He'd only just really met her, but, he knew he felt something.

He only wished she could see that. Jonathan Crane was nothing other than toxin. And he had managed to poison Isabelle.

...

A/N: So, I thought that I'd do a chapter of Johnny and Isabelle having a little chat. Next chapter will be more interesting as Blake arrives. Thank you to Sam0728, Undertaker's Hattress, LivinJgrl123, BaDWolF89, mahxie for reviewing! Let me know what you all think, more tonight!