His were the only hands that didn't clatter about when he approached the cell. No wonder others stared with intense locked gazes. An ordinary guard, a newer one with that darn shine in his eyes that wasn't quite quenched by the rigorous schedule that had to endure quite yet. Somehow, though, his hands were calm and steady when he carried the tray. A bit sloppy with the portions, he judged. Tilted mashed potatoes with ham that looked more processed than fast food. Frozen, likely. You didn't get fine dining when you were cast aside to one of the most secure prisons in Arkham.

His hands held steady as he stood, nodding towards one of the other guards. An older gentleman with a slight hunch and blue, almost eccentric eyes. The oldest worker there. Always would sit at their designated lunch rooms on his break and recall his days of wide-eyed innocence and energy that long since abandoned him. Wasn't what this place used to be, he'd muse at the crack of dawn. Everyone would agree, and that was lunch.

This wasn't his lunch. No. Yet he remained steadfast with his posture and expression. A prisoner was just that. A prisoner. No matter how scary and terrifying some of these people were, they wouldn't willingly choose a life like this. That meant they didn't have power in this situation. If they could kill him, he would very much be dead.

That ideal became more of a fact than simple hope as the days passed within the facility. The streets were dangerous, terrifying even. Killers roamed the streets like common sewer rats and their eyes always gleamed with the potential for worse. Here, ironically, he felt the safest. So, on his first day of becoming a personal guard, he didn't tremble. He couldn't, not when the walk home past those thick bushes and narrow alleyways prime for hiding always taunted him. A reminder that any walk could be his last.

The guard next to him held a smirk, tugging firmly across his cheeks as he watched the confident stance. "Always good to have a lil' backbone to crush, ain't it?" His fingers tapped rhythmically against his cheek as if counting down. A mocking tap that made Eddie, still holding the tray, frown. "Ah, come on boy, just a joke. Best we have some backbone around here, right? Poor man before you dropped the tray. Got everywhere, yes it did."

Eddie shrugged. Wasn't much for conversation when the man had a habit of lacking restraint. A pesky tongue of his, many of their higher-ups mused. Got into a few verbal battles and riled up the prisoners enough to get some of them violent despite their bindings. Thus why Eddie of all people was sent to feed this particular prisoner. Man riled her up enough to almost end up with a crooked nose. He was lucky the chair hit the wall from what Eddie heard. Shattered like glass.

"Anything I need to know before I go in?" Eddie asked.

"Don't die, kid."

Eddie gave a sarcastic thanks. The man only snorted, moving the door aside to let the guard towards his fate. And Eddie, with a deep breath and straight posture, walked forward. Into the lion's den indeed.

There was a moment when the world stood still. As his foot hit the ground, it felt as if time froze. A slow, sluggish flow of the world carried over him like a sickly sweet fragrance that also hit him. Eddie wasn't typically a fan of sweets, in fact, he found an abundance of sugar practically repulsive, yet he found himself almost... tolerant of this. Perfectly content with it. Instead of the stench of loaded perfume, it was light. A cloudy smell, almost, as if bound to blow away at the slightest breeze. A tease of a fragrance.

And there she was.

She was by no account like any other woman he ever saw. Gotham was full of survivors, desperate for a taste of life. There was always a tint of fear in their eyes when they walked down the street. They'd wear concealing, frilly clothes, with clutched purses and frantic eyes. Postures were withdrawn, nervous frowns when it grew dark quicker than expected. Men were no different. You either survived, or you were another statistic.

Not this woman. And neither Eddie. In a way, there was an understanding among them the moment he walked into the cell. That they were both different.

Despite the chains clinging to her body, Bane sat confidently in the center of the room. A hand resting on her perched knee as the other idly tapped on the plain concrete floor. Posture was forgotten but not timid. Her skin shone under the light, less muscle than clothing. She was rather skinny, as if starved the entire time she had been there despite the constant food schedule. Her outfit screamed villain, both out and outlandish all at once. Once closed eyes peeled open.

She looked at him. Eddie felt his heart stop.

If it was fear, he was sure the others would have understood. He could hear the slight snicker of the guard when he slightly fumbled the tray of less-than-par food, likely assuming that the fright had only now kicked in. Eddie admittedly wished it was just fear.

A blush crossed his face. A blush from an emotion far from fear, one that made him stumble and almost fall over on the slight bump on the ground that threatened his path. An emotion that made his chest burn and his cheeks plump with a pure, rich red.

She chuckled. He wanted to cry.

Barely managing to regain both his balance and dignity, he ended up setting the tray onto the floor a bit too harshly. It clattered, deafeningly loud over the once looming violence.

"Your food," He said. He would prefer his voice was dry, as he was supposed to be, yet it blossomed with emotions he couldn't quite hold back. "It's, uh... you know, just typical cafeteria food."

There was no harm in attraction. He knew that. But the shame still burned in his mind. Despite that, he pressed forward. Both curious and attracted to this sudden blooming, almost fascinating emotion within him.

"I figured," She replied curtly. He instantly wanted her to speak more. Her voice was a deep-cutting one that could silence a room with a single word.

"Would you like some company?"

That caught her off guard. He could tell. Her restrained expression flickered, and he could see that warmth that hid beneath. The light that was drawing him in was like a moth to a flame. He desperately wanted to know more about her. Her presence, words, stance, all of it was almost overwhelming and he didn't want to let go. Not for a moment.

"Are you sure?" She asked. "I'm a criminal. Psycho. Insane."

"I know. Woman with a life sentence. I mean, I know of you..." Eddie said. The sentence, while unspoken, was clear between them. One only they could understand. He wanted to know her as her. Not from the secondary sources of news snippets or crime reports.

She didn't reject him. She only shrugged a quiet, almost unnoticeable one. An invitation meant to be ignored. He sat down instantly. A bit too eager, he'd admit, but shame was becoming a second thought quickly in her presence.

"May I ask what you've done to get in here?" He asked.

Her lips pressed thin. While many villains typically bragged about their crimes, she kept quiet. Hesitant. Despite the fact he could simply go hunt down her file and look at them himself, she seemed... almost embarrassed. It was difficult to tell when her expressions were sealed away as if forbidden to be shown.

"Why don't you tell me first, guard boy?" She asked. Her fingers started to tap again against her knee. "Why are you here?"

Giving him the lead. She might have been bored. Or maybe was trying to get onto his good side to escape. Nevertheless, he took the bait. Spoke nothing but the truth to her as he watched her finally start to scoop up food and eat.

"You know our city is unsafe for... reasons," Eddie said. His voice was careful, testing the water. She didn't react. He continued with silent permission. "I lived here since birth. And I always watched my city - my home - get terrorized, slaughtered, and attacked. In high school some officers came and did a presentation about protecting others. It just clicked, I guess. I never knew what I wanted to be until I heard them speak. I realized I wanted to protect everyone."

"Noble," She said, tone tinted with only slight sarcasm.

Eddie shrugged. "Maybe, but it's true. I'd enjoy for everyone to live safely, if possible. In peace. That even includes you, Bane."

Names were personal. Saying that may have crossed a line neither was quite ready for yet. He practically felt his heart skip saying that. She sucked in a breath.

"That's a waste of time," She retorted. "Look at where I am, guard boy. I'm chained in prison with no hope. I'm crazy. I'm a criminal, a killer. Not exactly going around wearing flower hats with a need for peace, am I?"

There was a curt tone of 'knock it off' that clung to every word. Telling him to stop his nonsensical plea for peace. A foreign concept to her. Yet Eddie persisted.

"I mean it. I think anyone can change. That includes you," He said softly. "Anyone can."

She leaned back. The smile she put on was mocking, in disbelief at the ignorant guard sitting before her. "If you know what I've already done, you wouldn't be saying that."

Eddie watched her quietly. He wanted to reach out and comfort her, ask for more, but he knew that was nothing but a futile attempt. Bane, by all accounts, was still a stranger. An infatuating stranger for sure. Everything about her was just so different that he couldn't help but want to know more.

"I changed," Eddie said.

She glanced at him.

"I used to have really bad anger issues. Was called a brat. Attacked teachers and students. Ended up in juvie," Eddie explained. The memories flooded back as he spoke. So many countless victims of his tantrums and misbehaviors. "But I got help. It got me on the right path. And here I am."

She didn't respond. There was a flicker of... something on her face, but it was so brief Eddie didn't get to see exactly what it was.

"What I'm saying is, sometimes you just need the right people or help to change. You need an opportunity, like I had," Eddie said. "And you have that. Right here. There's help here. I won't judge your situation, I don't know what you did or why you did it, but... I hope you take the opportunity here. They might let you walk free again, and you can have a normal life."

No response again. As he expected. A first meeting wouldn't break through the years of torment this woman must have gone through to end up here.

He was startled from his thoughts by the door opening. The other guard outside motioned for him to leave. Eddie sighed, knowing he likely overstayed his welcome. He was sluggish standing up, wishing to stay behind and talk more. To learn more about this woman that fascinated him.

"My name is Eddie, by the way," He said from the doorway.

And then he was gone. Off to other tasks to be done by a simple guard to get another paycheck in the monotonous cycle of work.

Bane watched him leave. A heavy stare followed him away until he disappeared from view. The other guard watched her for a moment, before tsking at her and slamming her cell door shut.

Silence clung to the air for a second. Then two.

Finally, when all was still once more, Bane leaned back. Her fingers dug into her skin, threatening to draw blood.

"He's cute," She muttered to herself, closing her eyes.

___________________

He didn't see her until the next week when there was an escape attempt. One of the lesser villains there, if any of them could even be considered 'lesser'. In comparison to the others, to Bane, they were lesser. In strength and importance to Eddie. So when there was a sweep to check in on prisoners, Eddie was the one who volunteered a tad bit too quickly to check on the mysterious woman he found himself interested within.

It was a simple glance. A quick hello. Bane responded curtly, with a slight head nod and a mocking smile.

"Looking for any big bad wolves?" She almost teased. It was a mocking statement. "Won't find any here. You see, actual villains wouldn't try to escape so blatantly."

She sat across the room, perched up against the wall, almost as if expecting a visitor once the alarms blared. Eddie noticed that same act amongst the elite criminals. Like a waiting predator. Comfortable yet ready. Knowing the best time to act was right when events aligned themselves to allow them to do so. He imagined, if the day came, she'd be slow in her movements. Not lacking at all, just... confident. Brush off the dust from her shoulders as if she expected it to come. The elites knew to keep their eyes out for an opening to try. He sincerely hoped it never came. For both the safety of everyone, and for his selfish wants.

Eddie didn't understand why he was so infatuated with this woman he barely knew. Perhaps it was that shared sense of understanding that they both had when he walked in. That pure, unrivaled fact that they just knew one another, that they weren't simply enemies on either side of a systematic coin that prevailed in their large, overly violent city. Or perhaps it was her confident pose despite her chains or that gaze that'd shatter anyone's confidence with a single stare. A stare that could break glass if she glared hard enough. He imagined it could.

All that he knew, for sure, was that he wanted to know her better. Wanted to know the origin of that stare, wanted to know her more than he's ever wanted to know someone before. She wasn't a simple flame, she was the sun itself, and Eddie was nothing but a little moth in comparison. Drawn helplessly to the light that could burn him at a moment's touch. But that light, that sun, humored him. Snickered at his attempts for a quick hello or a little wave, would return those gestures that made him feel like he would melt right there and then. Bane didn't wave him off, didn't ignore him. She spoke to him, with a voice that could overwhelm a room with only a curt chuckle or the slightest of hums.

When he could, visits were longer than a quick stop-in. Meals were his best chance to see her with an excuse that held up. No one else dared to feed her, though they certainly would snicker behind his back and wait for the humbling experience that they all expected. And, admittedly, Eddie expected it a bit too. Waited for Bane to grow bored of him, like a person who stopped by for a moment to watch a helpless ant wiggle about before they'd inevitably stomp it.

Yet Bane never did. Whatever piqued her interest in him stayed. While she'd reply in short snorts and empty words to other people, he could see that sparkle in her gaze whenever she looked at him. It was almost suffocating to be before her, as her eyes picked apart his soul until she knew him better than he probably did.

They spoke about irrelevant things. Despite their shared experience of being in a prison, their starkly contrasting roles in the environment led them to avoid it like the plague. At least, at first. Eddie wanted to know her. What made her tick, what little thoughts made her smile whenever they popped into her head. What songs stuck like an additive parasite. Those types of things. The answer to that last question was a little tune from some old dentist commercial that always rang just when Bane managed to shake off that catchy darn hum. She admitted, with a slight chuckle, that she sometimes hummed it to piss off the guard stationed outside. Eddie found himself laughing at that statement, as he was well aware of that commercial that haunted them both. They both found solace in the fact that they were both victims of the dentist commercial with a horrid dancing clown and a 'dun dun dun' ringtone that clung to you far past its intended welcome. When he hummed it teasingly, she threatened to throw her biscuit at him.

Smuggling things for her became common when he started spending every meal time with her. Nothing other than food. Even if he found himself drawn to her almost dangerously, he didn't dare give her anything that could bring harm to his coworkers. They were a bit eccentric and judgmental, but mostly harmless. Bane seemed to understand this unspoken rule amongst them, as she never asked for anything. Though she did reveal, in a quick tale before he was called out back to his post, that she had a bit of a sweet tooth. So the treats often smuggled to her in pockets were sweet leaning. Candy, cupcakes, sweet buns. Those sorts of options.

It wasn't long before his boss found out. The security there was airtight, of course, he was to be found out. Eddie was almost jittery with nerves when he heard he had been called to the warden's office. Thought he was being fired on the spot. Mentally began to write out his resume right then and there.

The warden's image sang of prison itself. One arm covered in thick inked tattoos, with a bushy beard and gruff voice. He sat with authority, as if he commanded the very tiles Eddie had walked across to reach his large and tattered desk. Brimming with papers full of notes and expenses. A hand worked idly next to him writing, refusing to let a slight meeting stop him from progressing through mounds of paperwork.

"Relax, kid, not gonna fire ya," He said.

Despite the nature of the words, it was an order. Eddie forced himself to relax.

"After that whole Harley Quinn thing, you know - woman tried to help the Joker but he just dragged her down, that sort of deal," His voice rumbled with a thick smoker accent, a cough lingering as a threat with each word, "We try to avoid stuff like that. But yer doing good with that Bane girl, kid. She's actively been participating with the assigned therapist. Been more compliant. So you can just bring in food, don't shove it down yer pants like some crazed fella. Let me tell you women aren't exactly fond of pants sweets, are they?"

Eddie's face burned at the mention. So they did know. He tried to be discrete.

"Feel free to keep talking to her, we won't interrupt you two anymore," The warden said, waving him off with a slight gesture of his hand. "Now get out. Immediately. I'm busy."

Eddie got out. Immediately.

That was the first time they spoke about the prison. Dinner that night was approached by Eddie with a newfound perspective. Bane could tell the moment he walked in. She was quick like that.

"The warden said we could keep talking like this because you've been trying to improve," Eddie said. "Is that true?"

It took Bane a moment to reply. And for that moment, he was fearful she wouldn't. That she'd hide behind that wall she kept herself behind before, hesitant to share anything with the man before her. But then she spoke, and Eddie listened.

"Remember when we first met? And you mentioned that anyone can change? Didn't believe it at first, but I figured I might as well... try," Bane said. She closed her eyes and leaned back against the wall. Her voice was soft, as if afraid to scare him off. "It's all because of you, Mi Amor."

That nickname was nothing new to him. He heard it now and again from her. Never questioned it before, because it was never the right time. He could speak a bit of german and french, though Spanish went over his head. Now it was time to ask. So he did.

Bane only smiled.

"Look it up, if you're curious," She said.

Eddie did. That night, in the dimly lit library that stunk of dust and print paper down the street from his house, he went to. With a quiet nod to the librarian, who was on the verge of dozing off, he situated himself in a corner with a few Spanish books. The Internet was a tad bit shabby at his house. He absentmindedly chewed on the tip of his pen cap as he flipped through the pages, hunting down that exact phrase that left the woman's lips every time he met with her.

Oh.

He found it. The words. And the translation, sat just to the side.

His face burned red. His heart thumped in his ears, ringing. Eddie buried his head into his hands, unable to stare at that translation that confirmed both his biggest hope and biggest fear in one go.

He sat there. Until the crickets hummed through the night and the sky went from a pink hue to a black, empty color.

___________________

She's somewhere dark.

She knew whatever food they had given to her was laced with... something. She could smell the stench of chemicals from that pile of slop they dared to call mashed potatoes, but there wasn't much of a choice she had but to eat it. So she did. And now there she was, suspended in darkness. Her entire body ached as if tossed about the room like a ping-pong ball.

Quietly, Bane tested one arm. Completely trapped. A sting made her wince.

Needles. They were connected to her. Draining her blood.

Bane tried to scream, roar, and threaten whoever dared to entrap her like this, but nothing came out. Her voice was lost, and every attempt to escape from what held her in midair was futile. She could only watch in disgusting silence as her blood was drained away into containers marked with 'TITAN' along the side.

And in that darkness, she could only hang. Silence looming. Only the gentle sound of her blood dripping into a vial to be heard in her newfound prison.

The news reached him on his day off.

Eddie didn't have much of a choice to avoid it. Not only were vacation times mandatory in the year under a strict 'use it or lose it' rule that repulsed everyone on site, but it was also his cousin's wedding. A hearty over-the-top wedding that simply must be attended. He hadn't seen that woman in years, and hell if he was going to miss her wedding. He had to ask who the hell would settle down for her, after all. When he said that, she cackled as she hit his elbow several times.

Then the call came after the reception. The one day Eddie was gone from Bane's side. He had warned her, though. So she shouldn't have acted like this. This shouldn't have happened.

She escaped. A horrible quick escape no one saw coming, his boss attested to. They asked - no, pleaded with him to end his vacation and come back to try and find her. Predict her movements.

Eddie was of no help to them. When he arrived, it wasn't with answers but instead more questions. Why would she escape? She was well aware of where he was going, so acting out from loneliness or shock wasn't an option. Before he left, she had teased him. Called him that darn nickname that now worked to turn his face brighter than fire. And Bane was making progress. Her therapist attested to it when questioned, her face drained of color and a silent grip on her handbag. She looked to Eddie, an understanding glance between them as she answered their questions.

"It simply doesn't make sense," She said. "Not emotionally, not logically, not - officer, how could she have escaped? Eddie wasn't helping her, and I doubt the guard on duty was as stupid as to leave the door unlocked as how we found it. Not to mention she was hitting tremendous strides with me. She wouldn't have done this."

"You think so?" The warden asked. His face sagged with exhaustion, the cigar smell intensified on his clothing that day.

She straightened. Her eyes gleamed with certainty. "I know so, Sir."

Despite the confidence that this wasn't Bane, that it couldn't have been her, the evidence still stood. The cell door was unlocked. The cell empty. And a certain woman was gone, only remaining inside of Eddie's dreams.

The cameras were all busted. No evidence. Nothing but an unlocked, clean door. The warden, after many countless nights, finally gave a statement. He staggered in front of the press, determination and caffeine solely keeping him upright long enough to give his words. Eddie felt his breath go when he heard them.

"We can only assume it was a long-planned escape attempt," He said, words almost slurred. "There was no force used, and the cameras went out just long enough for her - and only her - to escape. We assume she had planted her people into our staff and planned her escape. This likely had been planned for years."

Eddie felt his ears ringing. He wanted to throw up.

That wasn't Bane. She wouldn't have done that. No one knew her as Eddie did.

"Do you think there's a possibility the Joker or another major villain helped her?" A reporter asked.

"We can't deny that possibility," The warden said. "In the meantime, we will be looking for..."

The rest of the words became muddy in his mind.

Something had to happen to her. He knew it.

No one understood. They only looked at him with pitiful glances and slaps on the back to 'cheer up'. The warden gave him a required two-week vacation just to get Eddie's persistent arguments off of his back. Eddie knew she had to be in trouble. Bane wouldn't do that. She wouldn't call him such sweet words and agree to try and get better when it was all a lie. He knew her.

Time passed. A bitter summer clung to the seasons change, still lacking a Bane in their prison. Her once-occupied cell, a familiar spot for him, became cold and distant. A stranger to him. Whenever he passed by, he held a longing look. Hoping that maybe, just once, he'd look back and she'd be there.

With time came acceptance. He could have understood her escape if she had at least left him a letter. Approached him outside. Anything. Just one single note, explaining that their relationship was not just a fluke. That what he felt - what they had, was real. He waited. She would never know, but he waited up every night. Looked out of his window with a cup of coffee, persisting until he had to call it a night. Waiting for her. Waiting for her explanation.

It never did come.

Finally did he accept what she had done. Under the quiet moonlight one evening, tears plummeted into his coffee cup below. The relationship he knew was doomed had met its end.

Now, when he passed her cell, there was a bittersweet acceptance of it. What's done was done. And when he gazed into her once-occupied cell, glancing at the floor where they used to sit and chat, he hoped she was well. Wherever she was.