1.

Prue counted back from one hundred. That usually did the trick. She wasn't crying or wheezing, that must have been someone else. Her face was dry, she just had to keep wiping away the tears.

People around her were freaking out, but no one was sobbing like a little girl.

Why was it that she was always the crybaby?

She knew there was no shame in crying, she'd read somewhere that it actually released toxins, but she wished she could stop, all the same. It wasn't helping anyone, least of all her.

The gunshots rebounded in her ears. They didn't sound like in the movies, they sounded like someone breaking eggs over her head. Lately, she had been hearing a lot of that, even in the more peaceful neighborhoods. The city was boiling.

She could say this was a case of her being in the wrong place at the wrong time, but Gotham, in general, was a bad chronotope, a city of the damned. She couldn't even remember now why she had wanted to do her MA here. She hadn't known that things could degenerate so quickly.

She cowered along with everyone else under upturned desks and behind copy-machines.

The thickset man with a spider's mask for a face looked ungodly huge. He was nothing like the figure she'd seen on TV. They usually said the screen added ten pounds, but in his case it had removed twenty. He was a beast. He should have been an MMA fighter or something. He probably was.

He was scouring the frightened crowd for hostages. His small, black eyes were filled with such quiet violence it made everyone stand perfectly still.

He jerked his head at his band of terrorists and they started picking up people from the floor at random. Prue had watched enough TV shows to know this was done to keep the police from aiming any guns inside.

The rest of the people were ushered out through side-doors which were guarded by armed men.

The commotion resulted in a few casualties, since people were tripping and stepping over each other blindly in order to get out. A few stubborn idiots wanted to turn back for a phone or a laptop, which prompted severe violence from the henchmen.

Prue kept her gaze downwards, away from the rampage.

What was she doing at the Gotham Stock Exchange? Delivering food, of course.

Acquiring a Master's degree didn't come with a paycheck, so she had to get a job meanwhile. A catering company had seemed like a sweet deal, an enviable position even. She was good at driving, she was good with money, and she always got some free leftovers when the day was done. It could have been a sweet gig, except for her current predicament.

The day had started promisingly enough. She'd had three successful deliveries, and then this.

The irony was that she had agreed to cover a friend's shift. Because she was ever-so nice.

God, she was never doing favors for anyone again.

Don't look at me, don't pick me, walk past me, please... she prayed and prayed and prayed.

In vain. Her silent begging had only sealed her fate. A man with a bushy beard and a lazy eye yanked her up by her shoulder and dragged her in the middle of the hallway.

Prue tried not to sniffle. She felt like the worst kind of coward, because at that moment, she wished he had picked someone else.

She was pushed into the small group of hostages who stood like sacrificial lambs next to the tall windows where officers could clearly see them from the outside.

She saw a cement truck positioned in front of the pivot-doors, a fortified barricade in case anyone got any ideas.

The man called Bane was speaking now, giving instructions to the brokers. She struggled to pick up the words, but they were fogged over by fear. He had come here with a clear purpose, and it seemed he wanted to crash the market, or at least crash someone on the market.

Not that she had a fucking clue what that meant. She was a History major, and this was all incomprehensible.

She returned to her counting. She'd reached sixty-five. This would all be over soon, one way or another. Either Bane would kill his hostages, or he'd set them free. It was the wait that was agonizing.

Prue knew one thing; if she got out of this alive, she was going straight to the train station for a no-return ticket back home. And she was never coming back.

What happened next was a blur; she had reached thirty-five in her countdown, when the woman next to her, whose sweater poorly concealed a pregnancy bump, swooned dramatically and fainted in her arms. Prue was fast enough to catch her as her body slid towards the floor.

"Whoa, easy there!"

Prue tapped cold fingers against her cheeks, but the woman was totally unresponsive. Her face had turned an alarming shade of white.

"Jesus, we need help, this woman's unconscious!" she yelled at no one in particular. The mass of hostages around her parted like the sea. Prue knelt on the marble floor, cradling the woman's head in her lap.

"Is anyone here a doctor?" she asked, staring up at them wildly. She really did not need this on top of being involved in an armed take-over. Like, honestly.

The people around her, most of them Stock Exchange employees of low ranks, shrugged helplessly, voicing fearful concern but being unable to provide her with much help.

"Does anyone have any water, at least? She's pregnant."

This seemed to draw the attention of the few henchmen in their proximity. The bearded one, who appeared to have some authority over them, told her in no uncertain terms to step away from the woman.

"But she's with child - you can't just leave her like that," Prue argued helplessly.

"I said get up," he ground out sternly.

Prue deposited the pregnant woman gently on the floor, but her sleeve latched onto the sweater's hem by mistake and when she pulled, she had a glimpse of what was hidden below the waist.

"Oh, shit, oh, shit, oh shit."

The woman was bleeding. Her jeans were sporting a large red stain between her legs. And it was getting bigger.

"She's bleeding, this isn't good!"

She forgot her stupid countdown. This was turning into a full-blown panic attack. She couldn't handle someone's blood right now. Especially since -

No. She closed her eyes and tried to chase away the image of her own mother, lying dead on a hospital bed, the same bloody mess between her legs.

She wouldn't ever go through that again.

"That's not your problem. Get up, I won't tell you again," the man warned, cocking his gun and aiming it straight at her head.

Prue recoiled at the threatening motion, but she kept a stubborn, almost unconscious arm on the fallen woman. Desperate for some kind of way out of this terrible mess, she directed her eyes at the man in charge. The beast.

"Please!" she yelled towards him, hoping her voice could carry. "She needs to get to a hospital!"

But he had not heard her. He stood with his solid back to her, immersed in his own dealings with the brokers. Prue had no idea if Bane was his real name or if the newspapers and TV reports had made it up, but she raised her head higher and screamed, for all her worth,

"Bane!"

The shout seemed to silence the entire Stock Exchange, as if a glass dome had been dropped over their heads. Even the henchmen were frozen in motion.

It certainly got his attention. He turned with the sharpness of a large feline, scanning the parameter in search of the noise. When his eyes landed on her, she shrank.

What had she done?

She couldn't go back on it now.

"This woman," she started weakly as he marched towards her with heavy, level steps. "Needs help."

Her eyes scrambled over his heavy bomber jacket and camouflage trousers and settled on the deathly mask gripping his skull. His mouth looked as if it was covered by poisonous metal teeth.

"Please," she began again, unable to look away, "she needs to go to the hospital, or she'll bleed out or have a miscarriage."

He stared down at the woman she still cradled in her lap who now looked grim, her mouth slack, her eyelids an eggshell blue.

"Please."

A few horrible seconds passed in perfect silence. She could safely say they were the longest in her life.

Prue couldn't make out his expression underneath the mask, but she supposed she didn't need to. His gloved fingers suddenly snapped at the bearded man, who, in turn, ordered one of the henchmen to carry the woman out to the police.

Prue released a deep breath, her whole body sagging from the tension of the moment.

"Thank you," she said in a ragged voice. Only a few moments later did she realize whom she had thanked.

The beast stared at her like she was a toy or a bug, something he could squash at a moment's notice. She realized he was angry, she had made him angry. She had dared to interrupt him from his important business. And she had thanked him for it.

His eyes moved lower and she looked down to follow his gaze. Underneath her jacket she was wearing a T-shirt with the catering company's logo.

Prue tried to cover herself, but it was probably too late.

He signaled to one of his men again. Prue balked and stumbled back on her hands. Was he going to punish her for her impudence? She flinched, preparing herself for a blow.

But much to her shock, the henchman simply picked her up from the floor and pushed her away from the hostages, towards the side-doors.

She - she was being released.

Prue couldn't believe her lucky stars.

It was only when she found herself in the harsh autumn air, with the golden light of the sun in her hair, that she felt safe.

She ran as fast as her feet could carry her towards the line of officers in the distance.

She could see civilian on-lookers crowding the street and the pavement, waving at her, calling out questions. But she looked straight ahead.

One of the officers ran to her and covered her in a warm blanket.

"You're in shock," he whispered in her ear.

She was taken to one of the police vans and given water and painkillers.

"Is the pregnant woman okay?" she asked between long gulps.

"The ambulance took her," the officer assured her.

But Prue hardly felt assured. She stared at the stone edifice behind her where a host of terrorists was bent on destroying innocent lives. Except, two innocent lives had been spared.

She almost felt like the beast was staring back.

A/N: just something I've been working on. Hope you found it interesting!