Jonathan watched as Isabelle hastily dressed, fresh tears falling down her cheek as he placed his clothes on leisurely, watching her as she placed her vest top on the wrong way round and her cardigan inside out.

"What's the rush?" he enquired from her, doing his tie up as she collapsed to a heap on the floor as she slipped her flat pumps on and rubbed her nose once. "He's gone, Isabelle. You don't need to worry."

"No," Isabelle shook her head. "He didn't deserve to see that. He didn't...I...I kissed him..."

"Well, this is news," Jonathan declared to her and she looked back at him, a sigh moving through her lips as she looked out the window and her eyes widened at what she saw. She rushed over to the glass, leaning onto the window ledge as Jonathan followed her gaze. And he couldn't believe what he had seen. The symbol was on blaze, highlighting the night sky in Gotham as it saw on the bridge. He couldn't be back. It was impossible.

"Batman," Isabelle whispered, suddenly feeling a sense of hope. Maybe he could get to the bomb. Just maybe it could happen. "He's back."

"And he has rudely interrupted our conversation," Jonathan said, his voice low and annoyed as he grabbed onto her arm, twirling her to face him, his eyes glaring at hers. And then he saw the look in her large eyes and he recoiled, his hold releasing around her as he remembered. Her eyes looked at him...but what was inside them...he knew it wasn't for him.

He'd seen the way she had looked after John as he stormed out of the apartment and he felt something pang inside of his chest, but, he didn't think it was true. He thought it could be the tiredness, but, holding her close and looking at her, he knew his mind hadn't been playing tricks on him.

He'd lost her.

"He's not right," Isabelle told Jonathan quickly. "I'm not crazy."

"No," Jonathan whispered, removing his glasses and placing them into his jacket as he looked at her. "You're not."

"Then why do I feel it?" Isabelle wondered, her voice low and soft as she looked at her ex-husband and he arched a brow in her direction as she turned back to look out of the window, her eyes narrowed onto the blazing symbol as it lit the night sky of Gotham. Jonathan stood behind her, his arm extended as his hand held onto her hip and he thought about what to do.

"I should probably go," Isabelle whispered, turning around to look at Jonathan as he shook his head, his blue orbs glancing down into hers as he moved his arms to wrap around her waist, holding her tight to him as he fisted his hand into her hair. He couldn't let her go. He wouldn't.

"Where would you go?" he whispered and Isabelle sighed once, taking in the all too familiar scent of Jonathan as she pressed her cheek against his chest, relaxing in his hold for a second as she felt the warmth of his body against hers.

"If the Batman is back then there may be a way off this island," Isabelle whispered to Jonathan, her voice full of hope. He scowled slightly at that. Hope was what the Batman represented. He always had done and he always would do.

"You think that, do you?" Jonathan hissed at her, his voice much harsher than he had intended as she stepped back from him and he took his hands from her as he pushed his own greasy hair from his face and behind his ears.

"Yes," Isabelle replied. "I have to try to get away before that thing detonates, Jonathan. Surely you see that."

"And where do I come in all of these plans?" he snapped at her, his voice airy as his arms flapped by his sides.

"We both know that if you even get away from Gotham then you have no chance, Jonathan," Isabelle whispered to him. "You're an escaped criminal."

"You'd be surprised what I could do," he said, his voice law and sending shivers down Isabelle's body as she heard him. She probably wouldn't be shocked at what he could do. That was the problem.

"If...maybe if I did get away Gotham...there's no...no chance...Jonathan..." she said, shaking her head sadly at him, wiping the moisture from her eyes as she noted something move into his eyes. It was almost like she had broken his heart, which, she knew wasn't possible for her to do. He had never had a heart to love her with in the first place.

"Why not?" he asked, his voice small and fragile whilst he looked like a broken man. "Why do we have no chance?" he enquired from her and she shook gently, looking to the stained carpet in the living room as she did so. "You still love me, don't you?"

He heard her inhale sharply, her breathing pattern faltered as she took a deep breath and gulped loudly.

"You know that I do," she mumbled. "You know that I always have and probably always will. But...we both know that I can't erase the past, Jonathan."

"It's been eight years," he said quickly back to her and she rolled her eyes, folding her arms as she looked at him.

"Time can't heal all wounds," she promised. "And you're not well...Jonathan..."

"I can be," he promised her. "The voice isn't always around, Isabelle. It's been rather contained recently. I'm the man who you married."

"You were," she agreed. "But, we're not married now."

Jonathan shook his head, unable to believe he was hearing this from her as his hands turned to balls by his sides and he focused on breathing through his nose as she stepped forward, her hand resting onto his arm as he remained stubborn, his jaw set as he looked away from her.

"Did you think that I controlled you?" Jonathan whispered, suddenly looking down at her as she jumped back slightly. "Do you think that?"

"Yes," she admitted. "But...I was also stupid enough to let you control me...even now...after all these years. I should have known better."

"I only did what was right for you," Jonathan grumbled. "I only did what I could to keep you safe."

"And you did it by any means possible," Isabelle responded lowly. "You can be a selfish and greedy man, Jonathan...then at times...you're like the Professor I knew nine years ago."

"I only wish...God...I wish none of this had..." Jonathan said, trying to ignore the large lump which moving in his throat as Isabelle smiled sadly at him, holding onto one of his hands.

"Let me go," she begged him.

He remained still, feeling her cold skin on his as he turned to look back out the window where the Bat had made his mark and a shiver ran up and down his spine as he closed his eyes, taking in what she had just asked from him. He knew he could never make it out of Gotham. Deep down, he knew that, he just didn't want to admit. But, she had a chance. She had a chance to leave and be safe. And she wanted to go. She wanted to live and she was willing to leave Jonathan for that opportunity.

"Come with me," Isabelle suddenly blurted out to him and he eyed her with suspicion as she made her rash judgement. "If the bomb goes off...then I don't think I could leave you here, Jonathan...you'll die and I can't handle that...I don't want you to die."

"I think I'd rather die than spend another day in prison," he admitted to her. His new taste of freedom had proven to be invaluable to him. He didn't think he could live if he went back there.

"Can't you try?" Isabelle whispered to him. "I don't want you to die here."

"And if I get out, then what?" he wondered from her. "I live on the run all the time."

Isabelle remained silent.

"I'll take you to the bridge," Jonathan said, his voice soft as she looked into his eyes and he grabbed hold of her hand, dragging her from the apartment as he realised he had to act now before he decided to change his mind. "I need to get you away from here."

"Jonathan," Isabelle said, stopping him as they stood on the staircase. He stood the step below but was still the same height as she searched through his eyes, wondering why the change of heart.

"Why?" she simply asked him and he chuckled to himself, his hand running down her greased covered head.

"Is this not what people do when they love someone?" he simply asked her.

...

"What was that?" Isabelle suddenly asked as she looked straight ahead at the bridge which they were trying to cross. Jonathan's eyes peeled as he looked ahead, his glasses not doing a lot to help his vision as he continued to push through the crowds of people who wondered what the noise was a large splashing sound came to their ears.

"Come here," Jonathan declared as he scrambled over the bonnet of a car and reached across it, grabbing Isabelle's hand as she jumped down and he wrapped his arm around her waist, still pushing through the crowds of people as they saw what had happened.

They'd blown the bridge up.

"You sons of bitches! You've killed us!"

Isabelle recognised the voice from a mile away as she looked to the side where a big, yellow school bus sat and he stood next to it, slamming his fists against the side as she made her way up to him, Jonathan in tow reluctantly.

"John!" Isabelle snapped out his name and he turned to look at her, gritting his teeth as he continued to push the kids onto the bus.

"What are you doing here?"

"Looking for a way out," Isabelle replied to him. "It seems that's gone."

"The idiots blew the bridge," he snapped, glaring back over at them as all of the kids moved onto the bus and he looked back at Jonathan and Isabelle. "So if you two were looking for some kind of romantic getaway, then you've had a wasted trip."

"It's not like that!" Isabelle snapped at him.

"She's right, much to my dismay," Jonathan said through gritted teeth as he looked back over at Gotham City.

"Well, it certainly looked like it to me." John snapped back at them as Jonathan glared at him, becoming annoyed with the man's hot headedness. He didn't see what Isabelle even found remotely attractive in him.

"I'm sorry," Isabelle offered him her meek and pathetic apology as he sighed at her, his hand rubbing along his cheek.

"Yeah...well...so am I," he promised her. "You don't...do you know how it felt?"

"No," Isabelle told him truthfully. "I have no idea."

"Now isn't the time," Jonathan suddenly snapped as he heard a loud explosion and he reached for Isabelle, pushing her back against the bus as his arms wrapped around her, his chin resting on top of her head as she looked to where John stood, his eyes peeled as he moved forwards and she watched him.

"No," he said back to her. "It's Batman."

Isabelle pushed herself away from Jonathan, watching as Batman flew over the bay, going at speeds which only he could as he carried the bomb and she stood by John's side as Jonathan remained behind, pushing his glasses onto his eyes as he watched the Bat.

He supposed he did have to thank him for something.