Replies: batmanbane: You're becoming quite the reviewer! We like! Yes, Bane's overall attitude is changing - he realized just who Danvers is before she did. Don't fret, his intimidation will return.

PixieElea: Aw, thank you! I'm glad you're enjoying it.

goldspleen: Your reviews are absolutely lovely and flattering! Thank you! No, Barsad couldn't leave Bane's side. He's been loyal to him for a very long time. Thank you so, so much for your attention and interest to this story!

wandadoll: Aw, thanks so much! I'm glad to have you addicted to the story! Thanks for reading/reviewing!

POV: MICHELLE DANVERS

Combined with the panic of the fall and the resulting injuries, the woman's body remained limp, allowing the rope to swing back and forth, fibers creaking against each other as they did so. Shallow breaths escaped from her open mouth. Her eyes watered, fat drops of salty water collected on the pad of her bottom lip before dropping. Whatever events were unfolding above her, they were unknown. Everything was distorted into an odd echo that made it nearly impossible to distinguish. She had not enough energy to lift her head or call out to the men above her... and even if she had, what would've it done?

Danvers sniffed and forced her eyes open. If death wanted her, it would've taken her by that point. Despite whatever pain she was experiencing, now was not her time to give up. Building what emotional strength she had left, the swaying of the rope changed as she regained control of her mind and body.

She hissed in a sharp breath through her teeth, wincing at the ache. She had broken a rib during the fall. Danvers had broken a rib once before and that was the only reason her mental state was leveling out to something less frantic. Swallowing hard, she lifted her arms, bringing them to her torso. Delicately, trying to avoid the sway of the rope causing any further discomfort, she prodded the right side of her ribcage. The pain didn't make itself apparent until the pads of her fingers reached the very bottom; the tiniest rib. As if someone had slapped her, Danvers withdrew her hand quickly. An internal monologue began, reminding her that there was not much that could be done for a broken rib. The thoughts disintegrated when the light above her changed.

Much like it had in the jail cell, his breathing betrayed him, alerting her of his presence. There was something else that was similar to their meeting in the jail cell; his breathing was uneven again, and louder. The shadows thwarted any visuals, so Danvers ignored it for the time being. Having the luxury of someone lowering him down, Bane's descent was much slower than hers.

"Bane," she coughed, having woken her voice from the small hiatus of silence and heavy breathing. She lifted her chin and allowed her neck to follow until she located Bane above her. His eyes were open and laden with emotions, ones that seemed altogether atypical for a man of his stature. Danvers pulled her eyebrows together, and nodded to him slowly, hoping to convey that Daggett's intentions of severely disabling her had been in vain; she was okay.

The muscles of her upper body worked hard as she gripped the rope from behind, wiggling the knot out. Within a few seconds, the rope loosened its grip on her and slid over her head, dropping her to the ground with a thud. Danvers fell to her knees, then onto the palms of her hands. A small whine fell out of her mouth, as if someone had been inside her throat, desperately clinging to it. Gingerly, she took a few deep breaths, testing the boundaries the pain had given her. Using the cool metal railing that circled the center of the hole, Danvers curled her body up, one vertebrae at a time until she had slowly straightened to a standing position. Or, as good of one as she could manage.

The palm of her right hand applied itself to the wound. The other hand behind her, supporting herself on the railing, Danvers watched as Bane dropped down, inch by inch. A portion of his mask jutted out at an awkward angle, and Danvers squinted to get a better look. The closer he came to her, the more she crouched forward.

"No," she exhaled. "No, not again." Bane's arrival confirmed what she had feared; the metal of the tube had indeed split. Little relief was felt from the idea that when she had found him, his mask had been in a much worse state. Superficially, she was disappointed that she had gone to all that work to allow medical attention to be given to him and it had almost completely gone to waste. Squandered time was not her main concern though - there, the feeling that she couldn't understand, couldn't find an appropriate origin for, the feeling that left her in an agita... it had come back.

"I'm fine," she said. "Just... let me help you," she sucked in a breath. "Again."

POV: BANE

After touching down heavily, Bane struggled to his knees and frowned. He reached out for Danvers and finally grabbed her, pulling her close. "This prison is no longer mine.", he warned her. His hand then swept cautiously over her frame, finding the wound she acquired earlier. Once his palm was over it, he pressed down. "Apply pressure." He sucked in a shaky breath and looked up at her with large eyes. "Stay near me. This is no place for you."

In the corner of his eye Bane spotted a pile of rags, laid there most likely by a prisoner who'd been swallowed up by the Pit's despair. Not removing his hand from Danvers, he leaned over to snatch a wandering string and drag the pile between his knees. He let go of the attorney and hastily began ripping apart shreds of the robes. Periodically, his eyes would raise apprehensively to the prisoners who were waking up from their dreary and mad states to realize fresh meat had been lowered to them.

Bane's hands were trembling for the first time in many, many years. His breath was uneven and given away as it echoed in his mask for all to hear. Once he'd finally been able to get a sufficient strip separated, he quickly wrapped it tightly around her midsection. When he finished, he took her hand and placed it over the area that was slowly turning red. "Keep your hand there.", he instructed, looking up at her with compassion. His touch was gentle, yet strong and remained for a time longer than what was necessary.

Rising to his feet, Bane took one more glance around them and then returned his gaze to Danvers, pausing there. Unexpectedly, he lowered his head to her, as if going in for a kiss, and positioned the break in his tube in front of her mouth. "Breathe in. It will help to numb the pain." He stayed still as she did what he insisted. But when he noticed that the distance between them and the growing mob was lessening, he pulled away and lifted her into his arms. "The prisoners are hungry.", he warned her again. "But do not fear. I will protect you."

Holding her frame tightly against him, Bane cradled the back of her head with his hand and created a barricade around her with his arms. For a second, he closed his eyes, being painfully reminded of his past as it was being relentlessly picked at. He took a deep breath in and held back the weighted emotion a little while longer. The prisoners were inching in, closer and closer, causing him to leap into action.

Bane rushed them towards the gated cell, closing the door behind them and securing it. The same cot he had laid Bruce on, and many others before him, still remained. He carefully set Danvers down on top of it, lining up her legs and arms in a way that he assumed would be comforting to her. He then stood back, allowing her to adjust as she wished. As she did that, he decided then to tend to his damages.

After removing the strips he'd made earlier from his pocket, he began wrapping his face, winding it as tightly as he could so to hold back the leak. It was a poor fix, but a fix nonetheless. When he'd made a thick and tight enough hold, he secured it in the back with a knot. He stopped upon seeing the bandage below in his eyesight, making him feel even more uncomfortably familiar with the Pit.

It was overwhelming, heating him up and causing him to sweat profusely. He felt as though he was suffocating, causing him to make the quick decision to remove his vest. As soon as it was off, he tossed it to the side and slowly began pacing the floor. Sweat trickled down his chest in ribbons, running past to his stomach. His back was peppered in beads, and rose and fell with every breath, which shook sections free and traced the scar that reached from his neck down to his tail bone.

"You've returned...once more." The voice made him stop. He needed not to turn, recognizing the owner immediately; the shadow hid him anyway. "Not by choice.", he replied sullenly. Silence between them lingered, making Bane believe their conversation was meant to be brief. But before he was able to start his pacing back up, the man spoke again. "Was it ever?" The question caused Bane to frown and then seconds later growl as his pacing shot off again, looking like an agitated caged animal.

The prisoners were now surrounding the cage and looking inside. Questions about the woman were being shouted. Obscenities were passed around. More reasons to fuel Bane's fury. But before the anger had a chance to seep too deeply, Bane remembered the note given to him by Barsad. He then stopped and reached behind him to his back pocket, pulling it out. He brought it around and unfolded it at his stomach, his head dropping as far as it could. He read the contents to himself:

DAGGETT SHARES POWER WITH THE LEAGUE.

HE'S MADE THEM BELIEVE YOU'VE BETRAYED THEM.

HE COULD NOT CONVINCE ME.

I WILL COME FOR YOU UPON THE PIT'S AWAKENING.

FOREVER IN YOUR SERVICE,

BARSAD

Bane nodded his head as he pulled away from the letter. While the contents digested, he refolded the paper and replaced it back in his pocket. Ignoring the shouts still taking off outside the cage, Bane turned his head over his shoulder at Danvers. "Our time here will not be long.", he reassured her.