Author's Note: I'm so sorry for the wait. I just recently got a laptop and was looking over my older stories, and I kid you not guys. I literally almost cried when I saw that I hadn't updated this story for over a year. I Will Rise Up was, and still is the story I'm most proud of, and I was really loving this story as well. So, I'm updating now, and I swear to you guys that I won't put this story on that long of a hiatus again.

Unfortunately, I won't be responding to any reviews until the next chapter since I really want to get this chapter out as soon as I can.

Disclaimer: I do not own Batman, or any of its characters. They all belong to DC Comics and Christopher Nolan… Even though I'd really like to. If I did I would put much more John Blake in the movie. And my characters would most definitely be added.

-OCW-

Two weeks following the incarceration of Poison Ivy life in Gotham is somewhat peaceful for the unaware citizens. Rosalie, however, isn't so peaceful, the cryptic threat from Poison Ivy looming over her head like an angry storm cloud. The stress and worry takes its toll on her, mentally and physically.

Dark circles stain the flesh underneath her eyes, and she seems to be constantly on edge, waiting for something to happen. She watches the news religiously, and pushes herself harder on her nightly patrols around Gotham.

"You're stretching yourself too far, Miss Rosalie," Alfred says early one morning when she returns home at 4 a.m.

"You're up early," Rosalie says tiredly, dragging the bag with her Black Swan outfit behind her, and tossing it into her bedroom.

"Mister Blake can handle the patrols tomorrow night. You should take a night off and get some sleep," Alfred advises, and Rosalie sighs.

"I can't do that," she says. "I'm gonna get some sleep. I have class in a few hours."

Any other confrontation between Rosalie and Alfred about her late, strenuous nights, usually went exactly like that. The worry s palpable on the elderly man's face. After the amount of time the two have spent together, Alfred has grown to care for the young woman. He hates to see her push herself the way she does.

-OCW-

On Wednesday after Rosalie gets out of class, she's surprised, yet again, at the sight of John leaning against her car, waiting for her. He grins slightly when he sees her, immediately taking note of her exhausted expression, and his grin lessens when he spies the dark circles underneath her eyes, the slight paleness of her usually glowingly tanned skin, and the way her usually vibrant dark hair hangs limply over her shoulders.

Rosalie sends John a weak grin back as she makes her way over to him.

"Hey," she says happily, leaning up to give him a swift kiss when she reaches him.

"Hey," he greets back, taking her books from her and setting them in the back seat of her car.

"What's the occasion?" she asks, grinning up at him as he shuts the back door of the car.

"I need an occasion to pick my girlfriend up from school?" he asks. This makes Rosalie snort quietly.

"Picking me up in my car. That I drove here. Without you," she points out, and he rolls his eyes, gently pushing her in the direction of the other side of the vehicle.

"Yeah, yeah, just get in the car," he directs, and Rosalie hesitates.

"John, I need to get home. I have homework to do-," Rosalie starts.

"That you have all of tomorrow to do. No class on Thursdays, remember?" John asks with a cheeky smile on his face. "Besides, I got an interesting call from Alfred earlier. Apparently you're pushing yourself too hard in school, and you're barely getting any sleep."

Hearing the lie that she came up with come out of John's mouth makes Rosalie's stomach twist in guilt. Its times like these where she wishes she has the courage to tell John the truth, but her irrational thoughts and worries always get the best of her, pushing the want to tell him too far out of her mind to bother her.

"Besides, if you're so worried about homework, you can just do it at my place, because that's where we're going," John says, giving Rosalie another nudge towards the other side of the car.

"Oh?" she asks, not moving.

"Yep," he says, not giving up and placing his hands on her shoulders and forces her to walk to the passenger side door, causing her to laugh happily. "Its gonna be you, me, some Chinese take out, and Netflix. All night."

"Okay, okay," she agrees, willingly walking to the door. "That actually sounds perfect," she comments when her laughter subsides.

"You're perfect," John says after he starts the car, and it takes all of Rosalie's willpower not to wince at the comment.

'Dig the guilt knife in a little deeper, why don't you?' she thinks as she plasters a convincing grin on her face. 'I'm not perfect. I'm a liar,' she continues thinking as she gazes at her boyfriend. 'You deserve so much better. So, so much better than me.'

She forces these thoughts from her mind when she feels her eyes slightly stinging with tears, and she looks away from John and out the window quickly.

When they arrive at John's apartment building, he parks the car next to his own car in the parking lot, and they both exit the vehicle. John hurries around to Rosalie's side of the car when she opens the back door to retrieve her books, and he shuts the door quickly.

"When I said you could do your homework at my place, I was joking. You're taking a break tonight," John says.

"Did Alfred put you up to this?" she asks, narrowing her dark eyes at him suspiciously.

"Somewhat. This was my idea though," he answers, using the small remote on the key ring to lock the car, and he reaches down and lifts her into his arms when she attempts to take the keys from him.

"Seriously?" she asks through her laughter as he carries her across the parking lot and into the building.

"Now, can you be good and walk up the stairs yourself, or do I have to carry you?" John asks, a teasing grin on his face, and Rosalie sends him one back.

"Depends on how you define good," she says, winking at him, making him chuckle lowly.

"Guess that answers my question," he says, walking up the stairs with ease. He sets her back on her feet when they arrive at his door, and he unlocks the door before they both enter the clean apartment. Once inside, Rosalie makes a beeline for the couch, and flops down on it face down, burying her face in one of the pillows, letting out a groan of approval. "You're such a dork," John says, tossing his keys on the coffee table, along with Rosalie's keys.

"You have-," Rosalie starts.

"The most comfortable couch ever," he finishes for her, having heard this from her many times. He smiles when she lifts her face slightly from the pillow to glare at him.

"Jealousy at its finest," Rosalie comments suddenly, turning her face from him, and hugging the pillow tightly.

"What?" John asks after a few beats of silence.

"You're jealous that the couch is more comfortable than you," Rosalie says. "Don't worry, Tony. I'll always think you're the most comfortable thing ever."

"Tony," John states, dryly, an unamused look on his face, already knowing where she got the name 'Tony' from.

"Yeah, Stark," Rosalie confirms, and John lets out a snort of laughter. He easily lifts Rosalie's legs, and takes a seat on the couch, letting her legs rest on his lap. "Did I say you could sit on Tony?" she asks, her voice muffled from the pillow.

"Its my couch," he says, untying the laces of her boots, and slipping them easily off of her feet.

"Can we watch the Avengers?" Rosalie asks, and John rolls his eyes.

"No. We watch it every time you come over," he says, and she lets out a childishly dramatic groan of annoyance. "Drama queen."

"And as queen," she starts, and John sighs loudly, leaning his head back on the couch, "I command that we watch the Avengers."

"And as king, I say we don't," John responds, grabbing the remote from the coffee table next to him, and turning the television on.

"King?" Rosalie asks, sitting up quickly with an amused grin on her face. "Ha! You're but a lowly jester in my court."

"Not in this apartment. In this apartment, I'm the king, and you're...," John trails off, stopping when he sees the slightly dangerous look in Rosalie's eyes. "We're not watching the Avengers," he says, looking back at the television and switching to Netflix. This makes Rosalie huff loudly while she crosses her arms. She slouches down, sinking slightly into the cushions, and pouts. "Aww, little Rosie's being a pouty pants," John coos to her, wincing when he realizes he's said something that only Rosalie would say.

"Yeah? Well you're being a bossy boots," she fires back, and John can tell she's fighting a grin. After a few seconds of John searching through movies, Rosalie begins quietly snickering to herself. "You said 'pouty pants'," she giggles out.

"Shut up," he says, playfully pushing her. After 35 minutes of searching, they mutually decide to watch The Crow. Half way through the movie the couple find themselves fully engrossed in the movie, Rosalie lying on her back, with her head on John's legs, and John with his feet propped up on the table in front of them with one arm on the arm of the couch, and one arm draped across Rosalie's stomach.

"I probably shouldn't admire Eric Draven so much... But I do," Rosalie says, reaching over and grabbing her glass of water from the table and taking a small drink. "You know who else I admire?"

"Who?" John asks, his eyes never leaving the television.

"Tony Stark," she says, and John rolls his eyes.

"I'm not watching The Avengers," John says.

"Party pooper," Rosalie grumbles. "Speaking of parties, when are we getting Chinese?"

"Whenever you want," he responds, absentmindedly running his fingers through her long hair.

"Now, it is," Rosalie says, reaching into her back pocket and pulling her phone out. "I'll call it in. Your usual?" she asks, and he nods. She rises from the couch and makes her way to his bedroom to make the call in a quiet room. After the order is placed, Rosalie returns to the living room, finding John still totally into the movie. This makes her grin with amusement. She then makes her way to the couch and sits next to him, leaning her head on his shoulder. John distractedly wraps his arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him. "Food's on its way," Rosalie comments.

"Thanks, babe," John says, delivering a soft kiss to her forehead. This sweet gesture of affection makes Rosalie's heart swell with happiness.

'He cares for you so much. He's been the perfect boyfriend to you all this time... And you constantly lie to him,' her subconscious forces into her mind, and the smile vanishes from her face immediately. 'He has no idea. It would be so easy to just tell him. Its your perfect opportunity.'

"John," Rosalie says, his name slipping out of her mouth before she can stop it.

"Hmm?" he asks, looking down at her.

'Tell him.'

"I...," she trails off.

'Tell him. You're hurting him, and he doesn't even know it. Tell him. Tell him!'

"I... I just...," she stops herself, before sighing angrily at herself.

"Everything okay?" he asks, looking at her through concerned eyes. This sincere concern wracks her body with guilt. The weeks of stress and exhaustion all seem to catch up with her at once, overwhelming her mind, and tears come to her eyes without warning. John sees this and his frown deepens. "Rosie, what is is, baby?"

"I'm sorry," she blurts out as the first few tears leak from her eyes. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," she cries, fisting her hands in her hair.

'I can't tell him. I can't risk it.'

'You're a coward.

"Hey," John says, pulling her to him, wrapping his arms around her in what he means to be a comforting hug. "Shh, you have nothing to be sorry for," he assures her, trying to calm his clearly distressed girlfriend. John assumes that this breakdown has everything to do with Rosalie's lack of sleep due to school these last few weeks, and decides it would be best to just let her do what she needs to do to get through this.

Rosalie buries her face into John's shirt for a few moments, shaking her head at herself while trying to stop her tears, and she pulls away from him slightly, taking his face between her hands and kissing him softly, not knowing what to do except apologize. When she pulls back, John reaches up and takes Rosalie's hands in his, looking into her red rimmed eyes, concerned.

"I'm sorry," she says, again, sniffling softly. "I'm just... Exhausted."

"Which is why you're staying here tonight. I'm gonna make sure you sleep tonight," John says, and before Rosalie has a chance to protest, there's a knock at the door of the apartment. "I'm paying this time," he says with a grin, letting go of her hands, rising from the couch and making his way to the door, grabbing his wallet off of the coffee table.

"John, I... I have to go home tonight," Rosalie says, semi frantically, turning in her seat to look at John, but she's ignored as he opens the door for the delivery guy. Soon, he's closing the door, and making his way back to the couch, depositing the food on the table in front of it.

"Alfred's orders, babe," John says, handing Rosalie her food, and a pair of chopsticks. She takes both wordlessly, staring at John, trying to find something to say. John sees this, and sighs. "You gotta sleep sometime. You said it yourself, you're exhausted. You can do your homework tomorrow after a full night's sleep."

"John-," Rosalie starts, and John places his hand over her mouth.

"Eat," John instructs, and Rosalie sighs in slight annoyance before reluctantly complying.

Hours later, after a few hours of restless sleep Rosalie wakes up in John's bed with him lying next to her, his front pressed against her back with his arm around her waist. She looks at the digital alarm clock on the nightstand next to the bed, the blue letters reading 3:42 a.m, meaning she'd gotten around five and a half hours of sleep, which is more than she'd gotten in one night in weeks.

She stealthily glances over her shoulder at John's peaceful sleeping face, and she carefully extracts herself from his grasp and slowly slides out of bed. She takes another long look at John's face, guilt eating away at her, and she quietly exits the bedroom, and the apartment, making the long trip to the 'bat cave' to change into her Black Swan outfit, and make up for the lost hours of the night.

-OCW-

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