"When we take revenge against another, we lose some of our innocence."
- Patrice Redd Vecchione

I woke up.

I looked down at my body. It was bandaged from my lower waist up over my chest, stopping a few inches below my collar bone. The dried blood from the bar earlier stained my right leg, a dark stain on the legging. I almost gagged at the memory of it.

The banadages had a stain of dried blood where I had been shot, but it had cleary stopped bleeding. I wondered if whoever had bandaged me had removed the bullet from my abdomen, and I quickly hoped they did.

I attempted to bring myself to sit up, but my lower stomach halted me, sending shooting pains like electricity in my body, an electric shock that told my body to stop it.

I winced, gasping, shutting my eyes. I tested my abdomen, and slowly brought myself to sit up, with the help of my hands. My hair fell in my eyes as I pushed myself.

I winced again, huffing and puffing, exhausted from the effort. I raked a hand in my hair, getting it out of my face. A single tear escaped the side of my eye because of the pain and shock that radiated in my abdomen. I attempted to put my bare feet on the concrete flooring beneath the steel table I was on, but a voice stopped me, making me look up to face me.

"No, Chloe. Don't do that to yourself. That will only bring you pain."

It hit me right then.

Bane.

The man I saw was nothing like the man I remembered. Not the kind eyes, not the short brown hair or stubble on his chin. This man was more muscular than anyone I'd ever seen, a respirator strapped to his face, a shaved head. But his emotional, dark blue eyes were Bane's eyes.

He walked to me, the clunking of his combat boots loud as he approached. I looked at him in awe, not knowing who this was and if he was actually the man I used to know. He sat down beside me, his muscles unbelievable, his trapezius muscles jutting out.

I felt so small beside him.

The eyes who had looked at me from the Lazarus Pit, the expression of unbelievable sadness that haunted me everyday. I arched my eyebrows and looked at him sadly, "Bane?"

He only looked at me with his dark blue eyes, and nodded.

He reached out to me and put his hand on my own, a much larger hand over my small one.

Tears spilled down my face slowly and quietly, and I didn't let out a sob. I tried not to cry, but failed at the knowledge of knowing that the man who had saved my own life was able to live his own, no matter how scarred he now was.

With the strength I had, I reached out to him quickly and clung my arms around his neck. He was like stone, rough and as hard as a rock, solid muscle under his skin. I held onto him like I would never let go.

His hand reached up and put it on my forearm reassuringly.

I buried my face in the crook of his neck, hot tears staining his skin. I let out a low gasp as I inhaled, my eyes closed against his neck. I kissed his neck, a small press of my lips to his flesh.

I lifted my head and looked at him.

He ran a hand in my hair, and looked at me with emotion. His eyes were glassed over, and he stared at me quietly.

I ran a hand down his back, feeling the jagged scars that were deep in his back, a few scattered along his sides and lower back, and a massive thin scar running from his mid-back up to the back of his neck.

How did he get those? I asked myself.

I trembled a little when I felt his own hand on my bandaged abdomen, gently touching the wound. I let out a quivering sigh, and to my surprise, his touch didn't hurt me. It was tender, but I felt no pain at his contact.

I looked at him, and I put my fingers gently on his respirator, feeling the tubes that held the device together. He watched me do it, the tiredness and sadness that I'd seen ten years ago returning into his eyes. I searched his face of emotion and quietly dropped my hand.

I didn't know where to begin with him.

"I missed you so badly," I attempted to choke out, "I never thought I would see you again. I thought you were dead, that I could never say another word to you. It has been a living hell without you, and I'm sorry that you wasted your chance of survival for me."

He arched his eyebrows, " I did not 'waste' anything, Chloe. I gave up my survival for the reason you are sitting in front of me. Look at you now. What if I had not been in the Pit?"

I nodded, tears still streaking down my face, and looked down at myself, knowing he was right. But I didn't want him to be right. He was seven years older than myself, and he was referring to the fact that if he had not saved me, I won't have grown into the woman I was now.

"What did they do to you?" I asked him, feeling a lump form in my throat. My voice was quivering, physically not allowing myself to cry. He looked so different than the man I had once knew.

"They inflicted pain," He said simply, leaving out the violent details, "It was pain beyond what I intially thought I was able to handle. And the only way to stop the pain was this. But while I was down in the pit, I realized I was being molded into darkness. Raised by it."

There was a change in him.

Infuriation.

His respirator took up the majority of his face, and I still remembered the handsome face that used to smile at me. The way he looked at my when he smiled, like he knew something I didn't and thought it was hilarious. It was almost hard to grasp the memory now, as some memories slowly fade away in time.

"I'm sorry," I said quietly, "I'm sorry I couldn't stop this from happening to you. Why are you in Gotham?"

He looked at me logically. I guessed that if he wasn't wearing the respirator, he would be smugly smirking, his eyebrows arched.

"No apologies, Chloe. It doesn't matter now. No one cared who I was until I put on the mask." He said, standing up to face me. "And now?" I asked him, almost afraid of his reply.

"I'm Gotham's reckoning."

And instantly I knew.

A man, changed into a monster.

I can't thank you all enough for the positive and many reviews/follows/favorites for this fanfiction. Thank you so much! I hope you liked this chapter, and to be honest, Bane is harder to write than I thought. I am not going to hesitate to make him a bit gentle while he is with Chloe in private, however by no means will I make him a weak sissy. I hope I kept him in character, as I'm trying to show how Chloe is going to notice the disturbing change in him.

In case anyone was wondering, the title of this fanfiction came from the song "Time" by Hans Zimmer, off the "Inception" soundtrack. I like to think it's Bane/Chloe theme. I hope you are liking this fanfiction, so please let me know!

Reviews would be amazing! :)