Apparently saving the city isn't enough to warrant any kindness. No, not in this world.

Eddie is brimming with anger as he watches Bane be taken back into custody, her form small and weakened once more. A hollow version of her true self, with shriveled limbs and a ducked head. Even Batman, the man of the night, seems off-put by the sense of justice, his lower jaw clenching as he watches Bane be escorted away.

"It's not... this isn't fair," Eddie hisses out.

His hands are trembling with unbridled rage at the sight before him. Watching Bane be whisked back to her cell just like any other normal criminal, any other scum of the street. He shoves his hands into his pockets to keep himself in check, knowing that lashing out here will get him nowhere.

"I know," Batman hums out. His voice holds a twinge of respect and understanding to it, a tone Eddie hasn't necessarily heard too much of from the famous night hero. The man turns on his heel, staring at the back of Bane's retreating head for a moment before he starts to walk away. "But there's nothing we can do. Bane is still a registered criminal, and fighting unauthorized doesn't excuse previous crimes. It's out of my hands."

He's walking away. Eddie realizes that fact with a twitch of his left eyebrow, his hands clenching in his pockets as he turns. Anger burns in his chest, ripe for the plucking, and his voice does just that, rising with fury as he tries not to reach out and grab the hero by the cape.

"You're the hero of justice! You're outside of the law! Don't you owe her, for what she did? She doesn't belong to be in there!" Eddie says, his fingers squeezing in his pockets. "She protected people, Batman. She shouldn't be labeled as a criminal anymore."

If anyone knows the world isn't black and white, it should be Batman.

Batman glances back over, his feet pausing as he stares at Eddie. His eyes dragged up and down the man's body as if inspecting him. Eddie could feel his sweeping gaze, but his expression was unreadable. A stone-faced man was what rumors whispered about the hero. His reputation was full of facts, he supposed.

"She did. Bane saved a lot of people, and she helped me in a fight I was underprepared for. I owe her." Batman turns and doesn't look back again as he continues walking. "But not right now. Right now, she needs to be processed in accordance with the law."

Just like that, he leaves. Eddie almost shouts after him, instead biting his lower lip and turning to help reorganize the mess of a prison.

He never does see Batman again. He's not sure he could without punching him square in the face.

Time passes like a slow, sluggish boat against calm waters. Eddie feels like he's going mad through the jarring, simpleton life he's been thrust into once again. The guard has had a taste of the true, unrivaled feeling of living - and he's not sure if he can give it up ever again.

He's not sure if he can give up Bane ever again.

Everyone else acts so casually, and it's driving him up the wall. Everything was returned to the way it was before he met Bane. A hardened criminal, locked into the depths of cells and bars without an ounce of respect to her name. Only fear and mockery.

Eddie spends his days trailing about the halls in a fit of building rage, his eyebrow always tilted and a scowl permanently etched into his face. He's not allowed to see Bane anymore, either. A 'conflict of interest', or whatever the hell the warden felt like spitting out to try and dodge the question when Eddie inevitability hunted him down through the hallways like a wild, rapid bloodhound.

At night, he tosses and turns with a restless hunger to see Bane again. A gnawing itch that refuses to subside. He can't help it, can't help his desire for her. She's a woman he can't help but fall in love with. Eyes churning with determination and knowledge, a body set firm with experience. A woman of beauty large or small, no matter how much or little of her special concoction pumps through her veins.

Eddie is smitten. He knows that his first reaction to brewing tea in his home, a dainty little apartment down the street from a feeble park, is to wonder if she'd like the tea.

He's so smitten. So head over heels in love with this woman. The woman he can't see, because the world deemed so just, despite it being anything other than just to him.

One last, dire attempt at meeting her is made to the Warden during his lunch break. The man who always seemed to have a cigar perched between his lips looks boredly at Eddie as he walks in, a sigh escaping with a puff of smoke.

"No, Eddie," The warden says, already all too familiar with the specific guard's name from his insistent nagging. "You cannot go see Bane."

"Why not?"

The warden leans back in his chair, the old joints creaking under his weight. Before him, on the desk, sits a feast of basic home food made by his wife. A neatly cut sandwich with tufts of lettuce sticking out of the side, a thermos of brewed coffee, a side of homemade banana and apple chips, and a neatly made cupcake with a cute cat face carefully etched into the frosting. It almost angers Eddie, looking down at the carefully packed lunch as his fists tighten.

"I will admit, Bane helped us," The warden hums out. He's got a frown as he puffs on the cigar, low and deliberate. "But helping us in one instance doesn't excuse years of crimes, Eddie. We can't just wave our hands and release a criminal who has around seven life sentences to her name because of a moment of kindness. And we won't let anyone who may have desires of freeing her near her, either."

Eddie scowls, his hands trembling as he tries not to lunge across the desk and strangle him, right then and there. That's not fair. The other guards are completely overlooking her saving their lives and are treating her like trash. They spit in her food, they laugh behind her back, and they do everything in their power to make her feel worthless. If Eddie had his way, he would've ripped this place apart, brick by brick in vengeance.

The cat cupcake stares back at him from the desk, a cute little thing. Eddie almost slams his hand against it, glaring sharply at the Warden.

It's not fair how this man has what he wants.

And that's the thought that stops him in his tracks, reeling at the emotional whiplash as his tidal wave of anger calmed its waves, even if for just a second.

He wants that. He wants the cute, idealized type of life movies and stories whisper in great adoration. Maybe not exactly it. He can't imagine Bane being a housewife, standing in the kitchen with a frilly 'Kiss the Cook' pink apron as she took her time to carefully decorate silly little cat cupcakes. He's not sure if he wanted Bane to change into an adoring, stay-at-home housewife, either. But he wanted the marital bliss with her. The feeling of love, of feeling her nuzzle up against him in the early light when birds just started chirping. He wants that. He wants Bane so much it physically aches.

"I quit," He choked out, his words hollow and strained. His muscles ache as he restrains himself from pelting the cupcake into the warden's face. "Effective immediately."

The cigar falls from his lips.

"Now hold on there," He says, moving to stand as he quickly stomps out the lit cigar onto the floor.

Eddie doesn't hold on there. He leaves with a click of his boots against the ground and an expression that could kill if glares did.

Just like that, for the last time in his life, he walks through the halls of the prison. Hands were tightly clenched at his sides, tongue bit between his teeth, and tense shoulders that refused to relax until he was out onto the road, standing amidst the pouring rain. He looks up, through the pitter patter and the sounds of feet against puddles.

And he breathes. Full and filling.

___

Bane is a woman of patience. She knows how to bid her time until the perfect opportunity shows itself.

And from what she's heard, it shows itself around two weeks after Eddie is gone.

Admittedly, she debated staying. But those in power made it very clear they never intended to let him anywhere near her cell again, not like before, and whispers of his sudden outrage and subsequent quitting drag throughout the walls. Even in her tiny little cell, full of chains and boredom, rumors spread.

So there's no point in trying to hold back. The binds that kept her shackled in the prison weren't her chains or the bars to her cell - it was Eddie.

And he was gone. So she had no reason to hold back.

It's almost ironic how much the guards seemed to tamper with her food, but hadn't noticed a little something extra slipped inside every other day. When the sky is dark and the crows sing, Bane makes her escape through the underground tunnels from her time of being kidnapped.

Bane fits through the sewers, small and weakened from her lack of venom as she crawls to her freedom after forming a makeshift tool to help her escape from her chains. It's about as gross as she expects.

It's a rather ordinary escape. Not grand, by any means, but it does its job. Bane stays hidden for the next few days, waiting for the streets to stop swarming with cops as she bunkers down into a quiet, crooked store that's been abandoned for a few years. If the Joker hadn't escaped just a few months ago, she would have never imagined getting out of the well-known 'impossible prison'. Probably would've held off for a few more years. But Eddie gave her a reason and the Joker gave her an opening.

The corner store is a go-to hiding place while she waits for the police to calm down and think she's fled the city, unaware of how close she actually is. The perfect temporary spot for her.

The small, decrepit building is just as she left it last time, with a few more smears of spray-painted art by rebellious teenagers thrown against the side in lavish colors. The bright drawings surround Bane as she crouches down behind the splintered register, her small, frail shoulders heaving as she lifts a tile from the floor.

The liquid from below glistens under the sudden light. Dust puffs up. Bane sneezes and sets the tile to the side.

Venom, her old friend, sloshes against the canister as she lifts one from her little stash. Emergency stash, along with an emergency burner phone and a wad of cash tied tightly by two round rubber bands. Half of the money is combed through, along with the burner phone and a single vial of her venom. She bounces it in her hand for a moment, thinking back to the last time she had felt it running through her veins.

When she was beside Eddie.

Bane chuckles to herself as his name crosses her thoughts, unyielding in her mind. The kind of name that demands attention, no matter how ordinary it is. Much like Eddie himself. Seemingly normal on the outside, with plain Jane hair and eyes, brown and simple. Yet every fiber of him seemed to scream with personality. Full of determination and care, sweet and merciless all at once.

Her hand tights around the vile as she presses it against her arm, his face in her thoughts coaxing a smile onto her.

"Oh, Eddie," Bane sighs, and injects herself with venom.

___

Eddie reconsiders his voice at being jobless as he checks out groceries at a convenience store just across from the park. The cashier is a bored elderly woman, with a bent posture and a lazy eye. Her hands, wrinkled but steady, scan over his items as Eddie taps his finger against his wallet.

Not that he necessarily regrets leaving the prison job. It was by far one of the best choices Eddie had ever made. The hours were grueling, the staff barely tolerable at times, and he always felt cranky from the constant late nights followed by early shifts he had to endure. Combine that with their oppressive treatment against Bane, and Eddie couldn't find any reason to care for staying at that hell hole.

Except for one reason. Money.

He's got savings, but the savings are light and housing prices are anything but. Eddie can afford to slide by on savings and passive income he has from a few investments, but his savings only really can endure the cost of day to day living. No major upgrades. Only afloat.

Which leaves Eddie brimming in his annoyance, his fingers tap-tapping against the counter in a bored, repetitive tone. His apartment is pretty rundown, with cheap infrastructure and disjointed material. It's cheap, by all accounts, but nothing cheap comes with luxury.

It's old, and it's trash. He despises it. Eddie had been in the workings of finding a new apartment, but without a steady income that hope has all but been discarded. Eddie feels stuck, as if trudging through quicksand in a repetitive day-to-day loop. Being stuck in the worst part of Arkham City without any way out is certainly not helping his building boredom and insanity.

He thanks the cashier quietly as he leaves, a bag of groceries dangling from his hands as he walks down the street. The soft hum of wind against buildings continues in the background, nothing but static noise to the man as he continues on his way home. No need to drive when he was just down the road.

Eddie was gone no longer than twenty minutes when he reached his apartment door - an old shabby hunk of wood with faded letters on the front. A bit degraded, but the door did its job so he never felt any need to worry about the safety of his apartment. Double locks with a sturdy wood that isn't easily broken, even if it's as old as time.

Until his hand settles onto the handle, and he finds himself pausing as his hand twists.

Unlocked.

Hands jostle as he throws open the front door of his one bedroom apartment, letting the wood thunk against the wall as he stepped inside, arms already reeling into a fighting position. But they soon dropped by his side, limp by the sight before him.

He's thought about it, of course, but he never did expect for it to happen. Bane, sitting in his living room, bulking with muscles and glory as she flips through his piled up junk mail on his coffee table. She's got a small smile to her that just lights up the room.

Eddie's hand weakens, and groceries thud against the carpeted floor.

He swears he almost cries.

"Bane?"

The woman of his dreams turns, her eyes sweeping across his hunkered, underprepared form. Eddie, by all accounts, looks like a deer in headlights. Eyes owlishly wide, jaw dropped, a stray apple rolling across the floor from his discarded plastic bag.

Eddie's hands twitch as he stares at her. Every fiber in his being wants to run up and hug her. But they haven't had much physical contact, so he's not sure if he can without pushing boundaries, or if his frozen body will even let him.

Bane smiles wider. She flickers a finger towards her. Permission.

Eddie about swears as he rushes forward and leaps into a hug. His arms snake around her neck and hold possessively, because no, she's not allowed to let go. Bane snorts and slips one arm around him, helping tug Eddie up onto the tan couch as he hugs her with everything he has.

"I can't believe you're here, I can't believe you got out..." He whispers against her.

"After you left the staff I figured it was about time to bail," Bane admits. "I had some old accomplices who were happy to see Joker defeated and offered a pretty penny in help smuggling things in - then I went through an old tunnel they took down the walls to. Sewers and a river later I went to one of my hiding spots and grabbed some venom. Pretty simple escape, I'd say."

Eddie stifles a laugh against her shoulder. To think the grand, impenetrable prison had two big criminals escape it back to back. It's almost pathetic to think about.

Bane's muscles press around him, large and looming, but not in the slightest bit terrifying. The hug was tight and affectionate, the kind of warm, demanding affection he'd noticed from Bane. Eddie was shorter than her, and her wide shoulder span meant she could easily dwarf him in a hug. Which Bane did so without the slightest hesitation. Eddie rests his head on her shoulder and runs circles along her middle back with his free hand, utterly content in where his life has led him.

If anyone could escape from that prison, it was Bane. And he's glad she figured out that little fact too.

"How did you find me?" Eddie pulls away a bit so he can look up at her, feeling caught off guard by the sudden appearance in his living room. "I'm not hidden or anything but my address isn't online anywhere."

Bane hums for a second. "I have some old contacts who did a little digging." Fingers tap against his lower back, seeming just as content to be there as he was. "With just your name and job I was able to find out where you lived, down to the apartment number."

Eddie stills. "I'd prefer to not be able to be found so easily. I'm glad it's you, but frankly, let's agree to not let anyone else access that info."

It's not very reassuring to know that a simple name can bring about so much info. One click of her fingers, and Bane was able to get whatever she needed. In a way, it was impressive. It wasn't him the victim of such searching, he would've been staring at her in awe.

Not that he feels any hesitation over Bane knowing things about him. Admittedly, he would probably fork over his social security number if she asked. She has that type of power over him.

"Obviously not, I wouldn't be enthused to have to share your information with others. Not all villains are as nice as me."

"But you aren't a villain."

Bane stares down at him. Eddie puffs up his chest lightly, looking up at her as he speaks. He'll stand by that view until the end of his days. If there was anyone who was wrongly titled, it was Bane. She didn't deserve the scrutiny the guards gave her, the whispers of fear people threw her way. Bane was Bane, and that itself, to Eddie, was perfection.

"I suppose."

The two settle down, catching up on life until the sunset on the horizon tucks away into a dusky darkness that sweeps across the sky. They talk and talk until small yawns tug at his lips and Bane tuts at him, as if scolding him for staying up far past the acceptable amount for adults, and practically half drags him to bed as he tries to come up with more excuses to talk to her just a little bit longer.

Fear is what drives him to try and postpone sleep by fussing over the pillows and blankets to his bed he offers to Bane before he moves to go sleep on the couch. Sleep may be an escape, but he doesn't want to escape from Bane. If he wakes up, and she's not there...

He's not sure if he can handle it.

When morning comes in a sweeping blaze of sunlight against his face, Bane is in the kitchen. Her looming form doesn't quite fit into the domestic scene - her massive muscled shoulders hulking in a bend as she trifled through his cabinets, her head ducked to avoid grazing the ceiling. Bane simply doesn't seem to fit there, like a puzzle piece with too many sides to try and squeeze in. Yet, at the same time, Eddie couldn't imagine anyone else being there. She doesn't fit the apartment, but she fits into his life, and that's all that matters.

"You have a lot of instant microwavable food," Bane retorts when she notices he's awake. She turns, eyeing him up and down for a moment before a small, pleasant smile cracks across her lips. "Good morning, bedhead."

His ears burn as a blush takes hold. As he begins to speak, his hands reach up and try to comb through his messy hair. "I didn't have a lot of time for big meals while I worked in the prison - most of my meals I bought in bulk on my day off. I'm still filtering through the leftovers."

His bare feet drag across the tiled floor as he walks into the kitchen, glancing at his cabinet that had become very familiar with minute-made food boxes stored away. Bane manages to catch his head as he walks by, her fingers splaying through his brown locks and undoing whatever progress he has made to tame the bedhead.

"If I'm going to be staying with you, I'll need to keep you on your toes. Stay alert, or this -" Bane ruffles his hair again with a hand big enough to hold his head like a grape, "- will never be neat again."

Eddie looks at her with big, almost sparkling eyes. Then he squints them. "... If?"

There's a pause. "If you'll let me, of course. I'm considerate enough to not overstay my welcome if a host doesn't want me."

Her hands continue to run through his hair, and Eddie is almost tempted to press his head up against her fingers as they scratch and ruffle whatever they can reach. 'If' is a question. 'If' is her standing at the other side of the line they've always had between themselves and asking permission to step over.

Eddie's response is to dig his heel into the sand and destroy that line.

"I'd love for you to stay," Eddie admits. He lightly leans into her touch, smiling up at the woman who's consumed his day-to-day thoughts. "I don't know if I could live not having you here."

She smiles. "Then I'll stay."

And so, Bane remains.

They fall into a pleasant, domestic routine. For the rest of the first day, the two catch up on what they've missed over a cup of steaming coffee and old, somewhat stale instant ramen bowls. When dinner comes around, the two split the chores and work on a basic fried shrimp recipe, with a few pieces of rice being flicked towards Eddie by a grinning 'I did absolutely nothing' Bane.

Bane sleeps in his bed and Eddie stays on the couch, content to let Bane take the only furniture that would comfortably let her sleep. Eddie showers in the morning and Bane showers in the night, since Eddie likes to fall asleep with his hair slightly drenched and Bane likes to use the water to help wake herself up when the birds can't. They spend the mornings together over a cup of coffee and newspaper, Bane going through her burner phone to tell him the news of the underworld while Eddie flips through the news and explains the more normal side of politics and recent city happenings. They eat lunch of food Eddie needs to rid his cabinets of before they cook dinner together, sometimes running down to the park to feed ducks or sit and watch the sunset if it wasn't busy hours.

Time passes like this, slow but pleasant. Eddie thinks he'd love it if the rest of his days continue in this fashion. Able to enjoy Bane's presence as they enjoy the simplicities of life.

Their happy little image comes down during their morning ritual. While the burn of freshly brewed coffee tantalizes his tongue, a little too hot to be drinking at that moment, Bane is scrolling through her old modeled phone. And pauses, her lips pressing into a thin line.

"We have trouble."

Eddie himself, who was halfway into another stubborn sip of scolding coffee, glances at her. He gives himself a break and sets down the cup, looking up towards the woman. "What's wrong?"

"It seems that Batman and Harley - our old friends - aren't quite done with Titan yet." Bane taps a finger insistently against the couch arm. "You remember them, right?"

A nod escapes him. How could Eddie possibly forget? The storming of guards running past him, the stench of vines and explosions alike. The Joker's twisted grin and the looming enemy he and Bane faced, with only venom and guns to their aid.

"Well, they sent someone after me. Apparently are too afraid to do it themselves. She's picked up on my trail," Bane huffs, leaning slightly against Eddie to ground herself. He returns the gesture.

"Who is it?" Eddie asks her.

"Someone named Big Cindy."

Eyes strain against the hardwood floor as he tries to drag out any buried memories associated with that name, but he comes up with blanks. Nothing but a confused glare at nothing as he drums his fingers against his knee.

"I can't blame you - she's relatively new, and any of her old work was mostly under wraps," Bane says. Her hand tilts back, coffee cup now in her grasp, as she downs all of it in one fell swig. A thumb reaches out and drags across her bottom lip to catch any stray beads of liquid, and Eddie desperately wished it was his thumb doing the work.

He's smitten. Eddie turns away with a blush. He loves this woman to death.

"Is there anything we can do to stop her?" He asks.

Muscles creak as she moves to stand, stretching her arms behind her head for a second. "Big Cindy is trying to recreate Titan, so all we have to do is put a stop to it. I know the locations of all of the remaining Titan. We just have to go grab those and lure her somewhere to put a stop to her." For a moment, her fingers clench into fists as she glares out the window. "I'm not letting them take any more of my Venom again. Not ever."

With a rustle of car keys from Eddie, the two are on their way.

It's surprisingly not hard to round about the remaining Titan canisters. They're scattered around the city in desolate places that they can sneak into without much room for error. Eddie brings out an old duffle bag from his college days to carry them in, shoving canister after canister into the faded blue bag as they sneak through alleyways and damp, decrepit buildings.

"Here," Bane says when they reach an old warehouse, glancing around the broken windows and unstable handrails. "Here will do. Big Cindy will have a hard time fighting us here."

The duffle bag drops against the ground in a sharp clutter of glass and metal within.

And the two begin to set up an ambush with the only thing working in that building, a crooked clock, ticking away the seconds.

Eddie still has a few guns under his name, so he fills those with ammunition as Bane takes another shot at Venom. The Titan canisters are all spread out evenly enough to draw out Big Cindy, but close enough so the two could protect them without risking her injecting herself with them.

They don't have to wait for long. Eddie is fiddling with his extra ammo when he hears the crash. A loud, demanding type of crash fully intent to give away her position. Big Cindy wasn't a woman for stealth, which was good, since Eddie's purpose there was to be the stealthy, long-distance shooter.

From what he's heard of Big Cindy, she's a Titian thug who snorts through her teeth and has a bit of history beating allies to a pulp on off days. The stories Bane muttered to him throughout the drive give justice to her as she steps into the warehouse, looking all too pleased with how the building shudders with aftershocks at her entrance.

"Bane, huh?" Big Cindy asks. She's got a looming figure to her that rivals Bane, with flexing muscles and a sharp, tight grin that feels like she'll bite off Eddie's head if he got too close. "I'd say it's a pleasure, but we all know that's a lie."

Her feet creep forward as Big Cindy glances around the floor, her smile widening at the sight of the Titian canisters behind Bane.

"Left out a little present for me? How kind." Her tone is anything but kind as she mocks Bane, and Eddie feels his finger itch toward the trigger button of his gun already.

"I'd recommend you leave. I don't intend to end this fight without any casualties," Bane warns.

Big Cindy's eyes sharpen. "Neither do I normally. Sad for you, I have to bring you back alive." The woman tilts her hips to the side as she gets into a lunging position. "So don't die on me, or else I may get into some trouble."

And both are launching at one another.

It's a blur of speed as the two muscled women throw themselves into their punches, body slams, and any other dirty technique being on the run would have taught them. Their punches are met with swift blocks, and their attempts to sweep out each other's legs are dodged with heavy jumps that shake and clatter the building. It's not a fight, it's an attempt to kill.

Eddie steadies his weapon and aims.

Big Cindy is a powerful foe, and he doesn't intend to let the woman he holds in high esteem fight her alone longer than she had to.

His finger tightens. A bullet tears through the air and rips through her shoulder. Eddie aims a second shot as Big Cindy jolts to the side, the pain startling her enough so Bane can land a heavy punch right into her nose. Big Cindy is practically flung back from the landed hit, her body twisting through the air as blood splatters from both her new bullet wound and a now broken nose.

And Bane doesn't stop there. Nor does Eddie.

Another bullet takes to her thigh before Bane is upon her, beating the enemy into the ground with powerful smashes of fists and flurries of anger. Whenever he can, he gets a shot in, but for the most part, Bane owns the fight with quick reflexes and the upper ground.

The fight is over as quickly as it began. Big Cindy is a bloodied, bruised mess as Bane steps back, watching the woman twitch and groan, defeated on the ground. Eddie pulls himself into a standing position, looking down at Bane. Her knuckles bloodied with victory. Body tilted forward in glorious satisfaction.

Bane glances over at him, the pupils of her eyes wide with adrenaline and something else he can't quite place, but something that makes his insides feel mushy and a blush creep onto his cheeks.

They've won. And he can't stop the giggle that escapes from him at this realization, setting his gun down as Bane looks at him, and he at her.

They've won.