Phobia.

It took a couple of days for the swelling to go down and his eye to open. He barely moved those days, his body broken, face warped.

“We’re a state.” Was the first thing out of his mouth when he had limped to the mirror, and he was right, his face was still larger than usual, a dark purple with splotches of green, the cut above his eyebrow glaring and red. I was little better, my bottom lip swollen, the side of my face blue, inky swirls over both of our ribs, knees and knuckles scabby.

And it had taken a couple of weeks before he was back to normal, although he was still retaining a slight limp. In an odd way those two weeks had been a little heaven, our bubble was back, we were together, no issues.

But, of course, it couldn’t last and Blake was back out on the streets, leaving me inside.

I had kept my promise, as much as it bothered me, over the long hours I spent waiting for him or Gordon to get back, watching the snow fall still, a long winter.

“All I know is that they’re trying to sneak Special Forces over in the rations trucks.” I let my head rest against the cold wall, shivering slightly as it still managed to cool my skin through my jumper.

There had been rumours, and now Gordon was confirming them, well, the little truth surrounding them.
We had twenty five days. Less than a month. Barely over three weeks.

And we’d achieved nothing. “What happens if they do somehow get in?” I wasn’t part of the conversation, staying against the wall as the group of men spoke, words fighting over each other, although some were as silent as me.

“We meet them at the store.”

“For someone who doesn’t know much you seem to know a lot.”

Gordon frowned and I pushed myself off of the plaster, arms crossing over my body in a weak attempt to warm up.

“Look, I managed to speak to someone, there was a radio line that Bane’s men used, Diego managed to pick something up, I’m going from about forty seconds of conversation.” The power in his voice silenced the opposition. “The ration lorries get here about eleven am...so we meet at the store before then, and we see what happens.”

“How do you know this isn’t a trap?”

“If Bane knew about us and where we met he wouldn’t be so stealthy. We’ve learnt that.” Blake reasoned, although there were several dark faces in the room.

There had been another attack, and the three men hadn’t been as lucky as Blake and myself.

We’d lost a radio, and so had had to go silent for fear of revealing ourselves. That lasted for three days until another safe frequency was discovered and more radios were brought.

Again I wasn’t much involved.

I was furniture in the meetings, everyone said hello to me, goodbye, expected to see me with Blake.
But that was it, I had no input unless I pushed for it, and since the attack I didn’t want too.
I couldn’t ever do anything that could get Blake hurt again, risk everything.

I had to be less selfish, which was possibly my main flaw.
One of the many.

I yawned, the sleeves of the overlarge knit covering my hands, resting on my lower thighs. I didn’t know whose it was, had been...and I didn’t care.

I could be wearing a dead woman’s clothes.

Or she could be hidden in her house, still trying to wait it out, scrambling ever week for rations to keep her family going, having to explain it to her children, trying to keep their minds light.
Worrying about her own boyfriend, or husband.

Out in the suburbs.

If it came down to it, if there was nothing that could be done.

If we were all sure we were going to die I wanted to go out there, away from the tall buildings, the continuing noise. Gordon said the suburbs were a ghost town, I wanted that.

Just Blake and myself, even if just for a day, to be in a house, look out at a garden, trees, not be worried about being shot, as far away from Bane was possible.
I needed the bubble back.

I wanted to end my life as differently as I could to how I had lived it.

“You ready to go?” I nodded, moving to drag my coat from the back of a chair, apologising to the man sitting slightly on it. We were only a couple of blocks from our latest apartment, and Gordon would wait here until dark and be escorted.

There had still been no chance to get him in a public place, for him to be the Commissioner, they were still hunting him. They wanted to string him up, make an example.

Not that it would make much difference now, it was unlikely people would get more terrified.

Blake adjusted my hat, tucking some hair under it before we left, the icy wind hitting me instantly and causing me to wince, tucking my hands into my pockets. I didn’t have any weapons but Blake had a pistol tucked into his waistband. The only time it wasn’t on his body was when he was in bed, and even then it was underneath on his side.

“Tomorrow, I’m going out to collect some gas.”

“You mean steal some gas?” I teased, bumping my side against his lightly. He smiled, although it looked force, his eyes permanently darting side to side, searching for danger. “I’m getting some for the boys home, just in case.”

“In case of what?”

I didn’t want to push him but I needed to know his opinion, I had all but resided myself that we had just under a month left. But so far I had managed to not freak out, which was most unlike me, I was calm about it, viewing it subjectively I supposed.

“Something happens.” I nodded, falling silent until we reached the latest apartment block and were inside, Blake pushing the heavy armchair in front of the door.

Gordon would have to knock to be let in.

“You think these guys will actually manage to get in?” I asked once he had lit a fire in the corner, we used a barrel since the apartment was nowhere near posh enough to have a fireplace.

It wasn’t like anyone was going to complain about the odd scorch marks on the wall I imagined.
He made his way over to me, easily pulling me onto his lap, my head fitting under his neck as I yawned again. I hadn’t slept well, I didn’t know what it was since lately I had been oddly calm.

Maybe that was the problem.

“I dunno, I hope so, but they’re tight with checking things now so who knows...” I nuzzled in further, letting my hand dance over his, hoping in some way the movement was comforting.

“What exactly are they planning to do if it does work out?” I drew away slightly, facing him, although his hand absent mindedly sitting on my upper thigh was distracting me.

“I’m not sure,” He looked irritated at the fact, “Work out how to get more men in, get information I think.”

“Well they can’t exactly hang around, we are on a deadline here.” I kept my voice with a hint of humour but knew before he reacted it had been too much, not the time, never the time.

I opened my mouth to say sorry but he had already gone stiff and was in the process of trying to remove me from him. Instead I struggled against that, managing to manoeuvre into straddling him.

“I’m sorry, that was a stupid thing to say and I was just trying to make light of it and...”

“Make light of us failing and everyone dying?” His voice was deadpan and I flushed, suddenly realising just how ridiculous my comment had been.

“I didn’t mean too.” His face softened a little and he let me kiss him quickly, a sign I was forgiven.
Whilst most of the time we were melted into a functional happy relationship we still both said the wrong thing, me primarily but a kiss meant it was over, we could move on.

There was no time to linger in arguments.

“Where are you going to get gas from?” I changed the subject and it thankfully worked, although he looked a little surprised at my question, his eyebrows and the light red mark above one lifting.

“Probably further out of town, there aren’t many cars that haven’t already been siphoned around here, and a lot of people have moved as far away as possible,” I nodded, “Why?”

Because I wanted to go with him.
Because I was terrified every time he went out he wouldn’t return.
Because I was sick of being stuck inside waiting.

Because I was still selfish.

“Just wondering.” I lied, removing the questioning look with another kiss that deepened quickly, lately, more than ever I wanted him permanently and he seemed to feel the same way.

I felt his hands tigten, slipping up around my hips and pulling my body into his. “We should go into the bedroom incase Gordon comes back early.” I half whined, his lips tingling against my neck. He groaned a little but started moving back, causing me to fling my arms around him to avoid tumbling to the floor.

“Blake! Watch out!”

“No, hold on.” I squeaked, fingers clawing into his back as he tried to stand, stumbling and causing me to burst out into laughter, “Just put me down you fool!” I squirmed, but he used one hand to manoeuvre my legs around his hips, the other to hold me upright.

“What? I’m not going to drop you!” His own smile was back, beaming in a way that happened less now, the lower the days got.

I suppose I had made it my personal mission to get that smile as much as possible.

“You nearly did!” I childishly argued, letting us bicker as he struggled with the door, dropping me onto the bed as he stood to close and bolt it. “You think Gordon is going to come bursting in?”

“Two locked doors are a lot safer than one.” He was serious again and I felt my smile filter, flutter but forced it back, attempting to look seductive as I pulled myself from the bed and over to him.

However foolish I felt it seemed to work and his hands were up my jumper instantly, struggling with my bra clasp, leaving me again gasping his name, every pore on my body aflame.

It wasn’t until after, curled in a cocoon of body parts and the thick blankets that anything other than a curse left our lips. “It’s weird,” He practically purred into my shoulder blade, igniting my body again.

I didn’t have to ask before he spoke again, “Hearing you say my surname during sex.” I twisted a little, up onto my elbows, his face close to mine.

“You know I don’t feel right calling you John, you know it’s too close to...”

“I know, I get that.” He fiddled with the ends of a knotted tendril of my hair, practically down to the middle of my back now, “It’s weird.” He chuckled a little and I smiled, feeling a little ridiculous.

I just couldn’t separate the two names, the name John, Jonathon would always first and foremost be my brother, it would always bring him to my mind.

“I can try?” I offered, eyes on my hands, “If you want.” I felt his eyes on me,

“Nah, it’s not that...my name...John is my middle name.” I turned back to him quickly,

“It’s not even your name? Why didn’t I know that?” He shrugged, moving onto his back and again tugging me with him, my chin on his chest staring up at him.

“I just was never a big fan of my name to be honest, John was much more simple.”

“Why, what is it? It can’t be that bad!”

He rolled his eyes, “It’s Robin.”

“Robin?” He nodded and I pursed my lips a little, “I don’t know if you look like a Robin.”

“Well, the lack of wings...”

“Oh shut up you,” I stretched back into a sitting position, his eyes dancing between my face and chest, “Stop being such a pervert Robin,” I teased, moving a pillow to block his view.
 
“Hey!” He whined, snatching at it and making me slip onto my back giggling. When we gradually stopped and lay still again his fingers again found my hair, “As if you had a secret name!”

“Do you?” I lifted a brow.

“Nope, It’s all Keira crazy Crane over here.” His hand tensed a little and I again felt stupid, my apology on my lips when he spoke.

“What is your middle name?”

“Audrey, apparently it was my grandmothers name.”

“Keira Audrey, that’s cute.”

“Whatever you say Robin John.”

“I think we should just stick to Blake.”

__________________________________________________

Gordon received words that the Special Forces agents were definitely coming, and so on the Wednesday morning we awoke early, the two discussing plans as I ate some soft cereal, it sticky and hard to chew. We were all nervous, Gordon particularly on edge, stalking through the small rooms.

“Maybe we should head towards the store,” I said eventually as Blake left the room, their nerves catching, my right finger nails in rags, stinging as they met the air.

“Yeah, yeah we’re meeting some guys there, Phil is arranging and....”

“Gordon, calm down.”

He took a deep breath, “This may be it Keira,” He lowered his voice slightly, Blake in the kitchen, “If this doesn’t work...”

I should have comforted him, said it would definitely work, that nothing could go wrong.
Instead I kept silent and watched his face fall even further.

“Alright,” he muttered, “John?” Blake appeared with a mouthful of something that looked vile, “We’re ready to leave. You sorted?” He nodded, darting to put his shoes on.

It had taken a lot of pestering on my behalf to be allowed to go today.

“Come on Robin,” I said lowly, my voice a purr, “Don’t piss off the Commissioner.”