WITH OR WITHOUT YOU

Author: Estelle Evenstar

Summary: *Bruce/Rachel/Harvey* Only with her would Bruce allow himself to lose control in the way he so desperately wanted to. Only together can Rachel no longer deny what she really needs. Rated M for sexual references.

Pairing: Bruce/Rachel, mentions of Harvey/Rachel.

Rating: M for sexual references and some swearing. Just to be safe.

Part 1/2

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters or places that feature in The Dark Knight. The lyrics in italics and story title 'With Or Without You' belongs to U2, whose amazing musical talents inspired this story.

*

See the stone set in your eyes
See the thorn twist in your side
I wait for you

'Another late night I assume, Master Wayne?'

Bruce Wayne smirked indulgently as he prepared for another tediously ritualistic day.

'Another day at the office and up all night long...'

Bruce Wayne was physically struggling through every waking moment of the day. The ailment in question was not the usually simple combination of wounds and fatigue. The memory of the pink satin bra remaining in his bed teasingly tortured his thoughts. The prospect that Alfred may have discovered it with the relieved satisfaction only a father could harbour did little to suppress his mood.

Multiple times he excused himself from his office with no one to answer to but himself, pacing the halls restlessly. In meetings, he cracked his knuckles under the table, painfully knotting his fingers just to give his hands something to do. Lucius surveyed his transient state with concerned reserve. Bruce's instinctive alertness in business dwindled, his participation lacking even more than usual as he slipped between a half-awake reality and limbo.

In the past Bruce had dreaded the coming of nightfall, resigned to his superhuman transformation at the sun's demise. Now Bruce attacked the responsibility with greater determination that ever, absent til late into the night and in mind the next morning.

As a youngster, the adrenaline coursing through his veins as he stretched his limitations with every gravity defying stunt had sufficed to overwhelm the intense loneliness and bitter rage. With experience and hardened resolve, every blow, manoeuvre and evasion hit him with a spike of pure, heady intoxication.

But thwarting every criminal in Gotham would not be enough to satisfy the burning hunger that filled him now. Bruce Wayne was wide awake and had never felt less in control. Every scaled building and bounded roof top was an escape from the unforgivingly cold sheets he would return to alone, the solitary echo of his voice against the mansion's hollow walls.

Night and day, Bruce patiently bided his time, carefully maintaining his outwardly glamorous appearance. Occasionally he responded to one of many female callers when the urge became too much. Starving for a warm body, Bruce would always leave her fulfilled and the bed empty by morning. By night, The Dark Knight maintained his watch, ever vigilant.

*

Sleight of hand and twist of fate
On a bed of nails she makes me wait
And I wait without you

'Honey, are you alright?' Harvey Dent reached for his girlfriend in concern, only to be brushed off as always.

'I'm fine, Harvey' Rachel Dawes responded with a strained laugh. Quickly she adjusted her appearance as he watched her disappear behind the soft outer layers from his sight.

Facing away from him, barring his prying eyes, Harvey lay awake agonising over when she had become so quiet after their love making. Only recently had Rachel become the subdued half of the relationship, and Harvey could not manage his discontent at having to wear the pants for the life of him.

Rachel Dawes was the first to leave her shared apartment in the morning and the last to leave the office at night. She retired and braved the dangerous streets as dark shadows drifted through the fading lamplight.

Despite having maintained her routine, Rachel found the natural order of her life becoming less and less regular.

Each morning the clouds in her coffee reflected scenes from her childhood, a happier dim time that her heart ached in her quietest recollections. Glimpses in the mirror confirmed her suspicions, appreciating less and less of what she saw. Resolute that an unattractive woman must be a successful woman, Rachel threw herself into cases ear-marked as unwinnable. Her once calm disposition rose to an unprovoked shrill. Passionate screams justified her own worth rather than the juvenile beside her in court rooms that neither listened nor cared.

The morning paper heralded the ominous storm of organised crime descending upon Gotham, and it dawned on Rachel in a maddening panic that she had lost something. Her position was secured on the arm of Harvey Dent, basking in his saintly glow, and regaining her strength as others allied themselves with the DA's cause.

In her spare time and unconscious moments, Rachel Dawes found herself drawn to the question of her former best friend. Revered and repulsive, the incessant images of Bruce Wayne revelling in some exotic playtime or out on the town with a ravishing escort ruined any potential for a positive start to the day.

Rachel ignored Bruce's unanimous invitations to charity benefits and public donations, avoiding any chance encounter. Their meeting would only be a pissing contest, designed to upstage her and punish her defiance against the Prince of Gotham.

'Let the playboy play' Rachel sighed begrudgingly, a small twitch on her lips in spite of herself as the following page revealed Batman's true identity as Gotham's White Knight himself.

In reminiscent moods, Rachel wondered what accursed personal desire feed her compulsion to continually look out for Bruce, when they hadn't meant as much to each other for a very long time.

Possibly it was a sense of obligation, the stubborn girl child within her as outdated as her connections with Wayne Manor. Her letters to Alfred drying up as soon as Bruce had returned after all those years on the edge of despair, as he always did.

Was it the same determined responsibility to nurture a cause that needed protecting that kept her with Harvey? She believed that reason alone would be enough to validate her existence, but was now rendered uncertain.

Each night their love became increasingly unremarkable, deflected by weak proclamations of tiredness or stress. In the throes of a dream, their lovemaking transformed Dent into the guise of the Batman, revealing his true identity.

Awoken in the dead of night, drenched in sweat, Rachel settled back into Harvey's arms, pretending that the name cried on her lips had been his and the shivers up and down her spine were nothing but the cold evening air.