Phobia.

My hand was slammed over my mouth, stifling my breathing and most importantly, keeping it as quiet as possible. My knees were aching, and any movement could cause noise, cause one of the hangers surrounding me to move, click against each other.

I had to be silent.

I watched through the slight gap, praying I hadn’t left any clear sign I had been in the apartment recently, “This teas cold.” One called, making me send a silent thanks upwards that Blake had left it before his shift, “They must have known we were coming.”

The other still stepped into the bedroom, my hand hard over my lips, my breathing short and rapid. He looked over the bed, “They didn’t take much stuff.” I squeezed my eyes shut, wishing my gun was in my hand.

“Maybe we got a mole, they told ‘em and they ran. There ain’t anybody here man. Crane can shove it, sending us everywhere looking for a damn girl.”

“She’s not just a girl, idiot, it’s his traitor of a sister.”

“What? That girl from the court that time?”

“Yeah prick. He wants her don’t he?” The taller man moved out of the living room, and I could hear them talking in the kitchen, searching the cupboards and taking food before they eventually left.

I was in the wardrobe for another hour before I dared to move, and another before I left the apartment, back pack stuffed with clothes, the gun they hadn’t found stashed under the mattress in my pocket. I headed out of the back, keeping my steps fast, spotting a different group of the thugs down the road and changing direction, it taking far longer than usual to get to the library, having to pass a lorry of rations and aid workers, looking desperately for anyone I knew but failing.

Groaning at the lack of power I forced my way in, not letting out a sigh of relief until I saw Lucius, “Do you have a radio with a decent range? The one Gordon gave you?” He nodded, quickly finding it and shoving it in my hand, watching silently as I attempted several times to reach someone, eventually a fireman called Burg.

“This is Keira, you need to tell Gordon and Blake that the apartment isn’t safe, they checked it out earlier so we need to move. I’m with Fox.” He relayed my message back.

“I’m not too far, I’ll probably be in range in a couple of blocks, I’ll sort it. Where are you?”

“Where do you think?” I rolled my eyes.

“Right.”

“Thankyou.”

“Stay safe, I’ll sort it.”

I finally let out a sigh of relief, explaining what had happened quickly to Fox.

“You want to give me that countdown?” I asked a few tense minutes later, my hand half frozen from the long walk here, Lucius glanced at me, “You sure you want that?”

“Can’t hurt, Gordon’s been doing it most days to kind of kick start us into working.”

“He not do it today?”

“He wasn’t there last night, stopped somewhere else.”

“In that case,” He gave me an opened mouth but almost bitter smile, “The count is down to forty one.”

“Forty one days.” I breathed, not sure how so many had passed already, stuck in an endless routine.

Although, I suppose it wasn’t endless.

We had forty one days.

“Don’t suppose we’re any closer to overthrowing Bane?” He asked, a slight smirk.
“He sent men to look for me, well Jonathon did.”

“You didn’t say that on the radio.”

I wasn’t surprised he caught up on that, “No point adding more to their worries.”

“If they’re after you Miss Crane...” I flinched at the use of my surname, “Sorry.” I shrugged him off,

“I’m thinking on changing it.” I said offhandedly, a lame attempt at a joke.

“To what? Mrs Blake.” I coughed, my sharp intake of air tickling my throat, causing him to laugh.

“Delightful, I haven’t laughed in three days.”

“Glad me choking to death is amusing.” I wheezed, accepting a small amount of water that ended it gradually.

“Something has to be.” I shot him a real smile, hitching my backpack further up, static on the radio.

“I’m gunna head out, walk towards the shop.” He nodded, popping his lips,
“In all seriousness, if the scarecrow has a price on your head you need to be a lot more careful.”

“Just don’t tell Jim or Blake please.” He shot me a long withering look but nodded, rubbing a hand over his thick stubble.

“Fine. Safe trip back.” I nodded, smiling again and creeping out the back door, again staring up and down the street, paranoid.

Thankfully I only had to go one block before finally recognising a face, seeing his lift the radio to his face before I heard it. “You alright?”

This seemed too familiar.

“Fine, I’m just glad they weren’t very thorough.”

“They say what they were doing, looking for?”

“Just moaning that we must have gotten a tip off, they reckon there’s a mole, which works out well for us.”

“Bane won’t let that last.” He sighed, half of his face hidden by his hat and scarf. “You’re alright though?”

“Yeah, nothing to write home about.”

“Great, I’m dropping off some supplies for the underground lot.”

Such an affectionate tonne for people who had been trapped underground for a couple of months.

“Fine, anyone else in range.”

“Blake.” I nodded, waiting for him to hand me the radio, “Blake?” There was a couple of seconds delay before there was a crack and his voice broke through unsteadily, “Keira? What happened?”
“We had a visit, they thought we’d left though so we’re clean.”

“Looking for what, Gordon?”

“I assume so.” I lied, glad he couldn’t see my face.

“And they definitely didn’t know you were there.”

“I hid in the closet, they didn’t seem particularly bright.” He took a second to reply,

“I’ll sort out somewhere else, you still with Phil.” I glanced at my companion, answering back, “Good, stick with him, he’s got a note for Ross, if you head down too...”

“I know where to go Blake.” I said lightly, “I’ll see you later, alright?”

“Alright...bye.”

I wanted to say I loved you but bit my lip, we didn’t show much affection in front of anyone else, it wasn’t the time of the place.

But it was back, all back since everything had happened.
Every night I forgot about the bomb, Jonathon, it all.

Because I had him.
And he wanted me.

Unfortunately I wasn't completely shielded in my dreams.

“What are you smiling at?” Phil asked, no doubt smirking beneath his scarf, “

“Nothing.”

“Yeah right, leave your romance at home, not on the job.” I glanced at the older detective, the slight scar on his neck from where the Joker had threatened him all those years ago was hidden, but I had seen it before, could picture it.

He was sickened by it all, as we all were.
All sane people anyway.

I like to think I fit into that category now, I’d been working harder on my ticks, little habits.
Again mostly due to Blake.
I’d all but managed to eradicate the charred Anna and Harvey from my dreams.

“Never thought I’d want Batman around again.”

“I thought you guys all liked him?”

“We believed Gordon’s story... and knowing the truth makes a lot of difference.”

“Well,” I sighed, feeling that hit of concern again, “He isn’t here either way, we have to deal with this ourselves.”

“Well, as you can tell.” We had reached the corner by now, and he pulled out the note, dangling on thin string that I held through the guttering, lowering it slowly and feeling a tug. I wanted to call down, to say it would be fine but I kept silent. Dropping the string as we continued on-wards, to a larger gap, hidden down an alleyway.

They were getting aid from the rations as well, but little, not enough.
I suppose we were kind of their life source.

Phil pulled a wrench from his own bag, lifting the manhole cover and pushing it aside, causing me to wince at the noise in the empty area. I kept my eyes on the road, scanning for anyone suspicious looking, other than us.

Turning, he pulled out a heavy plastic bag, tins visible and lowered it down, another strength of rope, long. It was a long drop, at least fifteen, twenty feet, and no ladder, in the center of that section of tunnel.

No chance for them to climb out, even as they had tried multiple times.

I heard him calling something down, a clang as the tins hit the bottom and he dragged the manhole cover back over, his breathing heavy, signs of effort.

But it had to look like we had never been there.

“We done?”

“Yup.”

“Ace, let’s head back.”
________________________________________

“Look, we have the detector, if we can mark the tumbler.”

“We’ve tried that and they clean it every time!” I argued lightly, shielding my face was the snow with a hand, “Unless we can detect exactly which tumbler and what route we can’t even plan anything.” He frowned, accepting my words but looking irritated, marking the wall with chalk, six marks.

Six times since the same armoured truck and tumbler had passed.
They’d messed up, hadn’t changed the driver all day.

But this one didn’t hold the bomb, there was no radiation showing on the detector Lucius had somehow realised was in his office at Wayne enterprises.

It had been a mission that had cost three lives just two days ago, and had forced four others home, in grief, fear.

“We need to move anyway, we’ve been here too long.” I nodded, letting him link my gloved hand with his, “Yeah,” He moved, pulling the hat further over my hair. I hadn’t exactly told him what the men had said but he had all but guessed, and it had ensued three days of him trying to keep me inside and me fighting against it.

I couldn’t just sit in again doing nothing.

It was horrible, waiting, hoping nothing would happen to either of them, imagining getting that news, a hard knock at the door.

“I know you’re stuck here.” I countered, “I know you’re turning down doing well...” I gestured around us, “Things, useful things.”

“Someone has to keep an eye on you.”

“How many times to I have to tell you I’m not going to go running to him.”

His hand landed on my mouth softly but it was too late, and the men I had neglected to see, busy looking at him had turned up the alleyway, hearing us, me.

Fuck.

“What we doing?” The first called, the trio moving further up, Blake’s hand over me defensively.

“Needed some air, that a crime.”

“Nah,” he said, and I felt my heart thudder as I realised why he looked familiar, “But shielding Crane’s sister when we’re wanting her is.”

The man from the apartment.

I took a step back, “I’m not...”

“Don’t like darling, we ain’t stupid.”

They were but one of them held a thick hammer, and I could see the bulge of a gun in the closest.
Blake glanced at me, “We don’t want trouble.” His voice was firm, no waver like there had been in mine but it wasn’t convincing enough.

“Shame,” The first man spat onto the snow, smile like a wolves, “We do.”