It had taken several hours to meet with Blake and for them to decide that their best interest was buying the hospital in order to keep an eye on Bane, several days to have contracts drawn, and paperwork for transfers of information made, but only several minutes for Gregory Donovan to accept Bruce's offer and recognize him as a new colleague. The two men sat across from each other, indulging in an afternoon drink, Gregory still chuckling at an inappropriate joke, and Bruce continuing to watch him, continuing to take in the mess of a man he found himself beginning to pity.

Donovan's mind was elsewhere but Bruce wasn't surprised. Donovan's estranged daughter, Aurora, had recently been admitted into this very hospital after she was injured in the explosion at The Lotus Palace. It had been 12 years since the two of them had seen each other, their last moment together being Aurora trying to smother him in his sleep with an old pillow. Bruce wanted to believe that the tension their past would cause was his reason for quickly handing over his life's work, but he knew men like Donovan- or at least the Batman did- and men like Donovan only cared about one thing; money.

Assuming Bruce had come to him looking to donate instead of purchase, Donovan had asked for a sum of 19 or 20 million, using repairs and new equipment instead of his second home off the coast of France as his reasons. Bruce had ignored him completely, upping the sum to 60 million for a don't ask, don't tell type of agreement, and pulling out the stack of contracts his lawyers had written for him. Here they were, an hour later, contracts barely skimmed but signed and Gregory Donovan 50 million dollars richer- they both knew only part of that money would touch the hospital.

"I have to say, I'm a little uneasy with this Bane character being here." Bruce said quietly, lifting his glass to his lips but not drinking. "What do you know about him?"

"Just that he's as loony as they come." Gregory followed his answer by finishing his drink and pouring another round. Bruce held up his hand, declining Gregory's offer. "He doesn't seem to be much trouble here though. He goes to his therapy sessions and participates as much as the lead therapist will allow. He's crazy, but he's cooperative."

Of all the words to describe Bane, cooperative wasn't one he would choose.

"Why isn't he in Arkham or prison?" Bruce's voice was harsh and too urgent. Gregory, enjoying his second drink more than just a little, didn't notice.

"Criminals can't just be sent to Arkham. There's a process. And as you know, our system was destroyed when that fool and his lady friend decided to break everyone out of Blackgate."

Talia; the name sent a shiver down his spine. His memories were her playthings and the blistered scar on his chest, tickling now at the mention of her, belonged to no one else. He pictured her eyes; he could smell her hair. He could feel her.

"He's going to Arkham, there's no doubt about that. It's just that his behavior has been decent which makes his transfer a bit more complicated."

"How complicated can it be? He murdered innocent people and almost completely destroyed the city."

Donovan half shrugged and polished off the rest of his drink.

"What about prisons in other cities?"

"Oh, they wouldn't take him." He pours a third drink. He can't hear that his words are starting to slur. "Nope," he sips this one instead of gulping it down. "Gotham is on its own... like always."

Bruce sets his glass on the desk, still untouched. He needed to get Bane out of Gotham as soon as possible, but there was no place to send him. No one would show mercy to Gotham and take Bane off of their hands, let alone enter him into their system. But there was one place- a place that didn't deal much with paperwork- a place that Bane would fit into very well.

The phone rings as he's packing up the last of the contracts and code books he has recently been given. Donovan slides his half empty bottle of Whiskey under his desk and proceeds to answer the phone, deliberately pronouncing his words in order to not sound as drunk as he was at 1 in the afternoon. He mentions something about a staff meeting being held in two weeks and then looks up at Bruce who is getting ready to step out into the hallway.

"Mr. Wayne, why don't we grab some lunch to celebrate?"

Bruce looks back at him and nods with a forced smile. Donovan had already celebrated enough for the both of them but he accepts anyway, deciding that it wouldn't hurt to start with appearances. He motions towards the hallway with his free hand and steps through the doorway. As soon as he's through the door he feels the hairs on the back of his neck begin to rise. Someone saw him, they were watching him.

He looks left and saw patients and doctors alike walking or just standing about, but no one in particular caught his attention. He looks right, taking in the white walls and the abstract paintings. His skin is crawling, his muscles tensing as if ready for a fight. His eyes continue up the hall and soon land on a massive figure looming in the doorway of an office a mere thirty feet away, facing him, his eyes burying deep within his own. A tingling begins to grow in his lower back, a reminder, a memory.

Bruce stands tall in his spot, his eyes taking in the metal mask that faces him. He forces himself to look, to see the skin that's exposed on his face- to see his eyes, pleasantly surprised, wrinkles forming at their corners. To see him flex his arms beneath the thin fabric that in no way held him prisoner and sway as he went to step forward, to step in his direction. Bruce's stomach tightens as well as his fist around the handle of his briefcase.

"I was wondering what would break first."

A messy black bun pulls Bruce's attention from Bane as a young woman walks passed him, brushing so close to him that she somehow nipped the collar of his jacket. His eyes stare at her back- he knows she's nothing but a patient here, but he is still disturbed that Bane had taken so much of his attention that he hadn't felt someone walking up behind him. If he had been somewhere else, in another situation, he would be dead.

He sees Gregory walking towards him from the corner of his eye and he drops his gaze from the woman, refusing to look at Bane again. Gregory touches his shoulder, words of eating at a steakhouse and discussing the details of the hospital going in one ear and out of the other. The sore spot in his lower back begins to tremble and throb. He feels the muscles tensing around his spine and knows he'll be facing a spasm in a few moments.

"Your mind. . .or your body?"

He follows Gregory into the hallway straight ahead of the office, stepping out of Bane's eyesight, stepping away from the hall that contains his greatest enemy. He had to get Bane away from the hospital and out of Gotham. He was in that strait jacket because he wanted to be. And if he wants to be there, the reason would cost everyone around him their lives. Bruce couldn't fail again.