Disclaimer: I do not own Bane or any other Batman character. They are copyrighted to DC comics and I don't profit from writing this story. It's just for fun and enjoyment!
Author's note: allrighty, my first fanfic! Hope you guys enjoy it, and forgive me if some of my grammar sounds strange, not a native English speaker but I gave it my best!
A strong, burning pain in the chest was the last thing Bane remembered before slipping unconscious the day that Gotham was supposed to be reduced to ashes. But there was a pain far greater than any other body torment he had felt, and that was the pain of failure. It seemed that although the hurt of the flesh stood silent when the brain was unconscious, the pain of the mind continued to vulture, pick and tear at his soul.
Now he was one on one with himself, and he was aware he had no greater enemy. Bane knew Talia was dead – she didn't made any plans to survive, and didn't want to anyway. His own past and future died that same day. All he had left was the miserable in-between he had been granted with. God knows why, though.
Feeling so weak was embarrassing to him – Talia was a weakness he could tolerate, because he was her protector, but a weakness coming from the inside was like a cancer to him. His only wish for the moment was to wake up somewhere else. Not in Gotham. Not on this continent, either. Somewhere devoid of humans. Somewhere, where he could fade into darkness and get rid of all hope for living.
No rest was meant for him, though. Instead, he got a reoccurring nightmare. He dreamed that a giant vulture landed on his chest and started ferociously pecking at his flesh, ripping it piece by piece. Bane screamed like a banshee and wished he could squish the flying vermin with his hands, but they were stuck by his sides and he could only watch as the vulture slowly broke his bones and, at the end, took his heart out.
"- Am I unworthy of death?!" – he cried in his mind, wishing to whoever could hear him to just end his torment. But nobody could hear him and death seemed like an unavailable privilege. Instead, he felt a sudden hotness encapsulating his body, making his blood boil. Then, an intrusive flash of light chased away his familiar darkness.
Bane slowly opened his dry eyes. The vulture was gone, and so was the bloody crater on his chest. The pain was still there, but the ripped flesh was covered in bandages. His eyes, still not accustomed to light, slowly moved around, trying to identify where he was. The place looked like a basement of some sort. But he could hear the ticks and beeps of medical equipment. Where the hell was he?
Bane tried to get up from the surface he was laid on, but his hurting spine pinned him down, drawing out a rasp, loud moan from him. It felt like the only thing keeping his body together was gravity. Breathing heavily, he tried to stand up again.
At this moment the nearby door opened and a tiny figure flew inside the room.
- What are you doing? Don't move, lie down!
Bane gave his best effort to turn his head to the left and see to whom the squeaky voice belonged. A young, skinny, apparently frightened brunette dressed in lab clothes stood next to him, clutching some syringes with her tiny little fingers.
- Who…are you?
- Just don't move, ok? – the petite woman opened one of the syringes and pushed it into Bane's shoulder. An action almost as reckless as trying to pet a cobra on the nose. If he could get up, she would now be lying on the floor with a skull split open, but now he was too weak to even clench a fist.
- This will help you get your act together – said the woman and touched him by the neck - You have a fever, must be because of the wound healing.
Enough was enough. Somewhat weakened, but still deadly firm hand, almost bigger than hear head, caught her by the throat and pulled her closer to him.
- Who are you? – Bane's voice hissed through his mask, his eyes pinning onto the woman.
- I…I am doctor Eslie Moor! – she squeaked, clawing Bane's arm so he would let go. And he did – not because of the clawing, but because he could only hold his grip for this long.
- This…is not a hospital – Bane muttered, trying his best not to appear in pain. His back was killing him, so he gazed at the ceiling to distract himself.
- I fixed you… that's what matters…– said doctor Moor, rubbing her neck and coughing lightly. Bane didn't respond with anything, just kept staring at the ceiling – Are you in pain?
- I am accustomed to pain.
- I can make it go away…at least I think so. But I need you to not strangle me in the near future.
- ... Why?
- "Why" what?
- Why do you care for someone who ought to be dead?
Doctor Moor chuckled:
- It's my revenge.
- On whom?
- On the people who took away my medical license.
Revenge, huh? Bane was intrigued – such a petite and vulnerable creature, yet contemplating revenge. How adorable.
- Your crime? – he asked, groaning while trying to tilt his head to the side.
- I wanted to help – she said, adjusting the tubes that flew into Bane's veiny wrist – to the wrong person. To somebody like you. But that doesn't matter now. What matters is you stay alive in the next 48 hours.
Bane tried readjusting himself on the table, but his spine was still aching like mad. It seemed he had gotten too used to being sedated all the time.
- What is that? – he flinched at the sight of another syringe.
- You are too big to be afraid of needles, aren't you, mr. Bane? Shush now, those are anesthetics. I heard you are fond of them.
- And do you think I have not tried any anesthetic known to medicine, little thing?
- Well, this one you haven't for sure. And I don't know if it will work. All of my lab rats died after I gave it to them.
Bane laughed audibly - something he hadn't done in ages. This woman was courageous on the brink of foolishness and it amused him so. But before he could respond to the "doctor", he felt a soft rush passing through his body. Oh, it felt so good – like sea foam washing on a dry and cracked soil.
- This…this is so much better than morphine – he said, almost squinting from pleasure.
- Oh, I see. Maybe it works after all.
Although a bit numb, Bane felt so much better than just a few seconds ago. There was a feign pain, but nothing he couldn't bite his tongue trough.
- What's it called?
- It's too new to have a name. If someone found out I was testing it on a human, they would give me my license back, only to take it away again .
Thinking the anesthetic was now enough, she reached to unbuckle Bane's mask, but he pulled his head back a little.
- Will you allow me to take it off? – she said quietly, moving her gentle fingers through the air.
- Do you have enough of what you're giving me?
- Yes, I do. Four month supply, at least.
- Then go on.
Moor was quite nervous and excited. She got to unmask the man who brought Gotham to its knees. She got to see who was behind the mask of Bane. In your face, ordinary hospital staff!
- First, remove the white tubes. Then pull the valve next to the dial – Bane instructed her.
And so she did. With a few gentle touches, the mask was released. Doctor Moor carefully slid it off Bane's face. It felt like unmasking the Phantom of the opera. And…
...there was nothing wrong with his face, except for a few scars. To her surprise, he was rather handsome, too. She didn't like bald guys, but this one kind of made it look good.
- You seem disappointed – said Bane while stretching his neck as much as he could.
- Ah. No. I just…I thought you wore it for different reasons. I thought you had something to hide underneath it.
- I've nothing to hide.
- And you're bald.
- You needed to take the mask off to deduce that? – he smirked, turning his head towards her and revealing the most part of his face.
- What are those scars from? – she pointed to his nose and lips.
- Milestones. Me fighting with time. But, I guess, nothing compared to what I will get after my chest heals.
- Yeah, that's true. I… I must go now. You take a rest and I'll come back to change your bandages later on.
- Fine. - he cracked his neck, enjoying his pain-free experience.