Chapter Nine: Trading Favors at the Base of Olympus

As Bruce, Gordon and Selina all threw around ideas of how to get Maureen to parrot the words they wanted her to squawk to the court, back at Arkham on the fifth floor, in the sunny corner office, Maureen closed the Joker's file after he was led from her office.

The rest of the session had settled into the Joker's usual modus operandi of asking more questions than answering with a healthy side dish of how much he loved fucking his mother.

Night came to decapitate the remaining daylight as the fresh, full moon rose and shined over everyone in the city.

In the temporary wing of Arkham, Bane rolled onto his broad back as he stared up at the moonlit roof. His pride swelled like a harvest peach; skin so taut it was a breath away from bursting as he recalled the rest of his visit with Isaak. Bane was at once a warlord returning to life.

Vengeance filled his veins and power surged through his arteries, he heated through to his molten, roiling core as he began to see a way to emerge on the other side of the facility.

Bane eventually drifted off to sleep as did most others under Arkham's roof and throughout the whole of Gotham City.

At some point in the wee hours of the night, the Joker directed a converted Arkham guard to ferry a playing card to Bane's cell and slip it under the door.

The card laid face-up on the floor before the clattering of the rolling breakfast carts in the hallway caused Bane to begin to stir.

Bane smiled up at the ceiling in the dim room as it began to glow with the warm light growing outside the Asylum's walls.

As his rectangular, plastic tray was pushed through the slot in his metal door, Bane sat up and saw the playing card sitting belly up in front of the door.

Bane casually collected the card and tray in one easy swoop before returning to the metal table and squat stool bolted to the wall and floor.

He turned his attention to the card with the folded, creased corner after he evaluated his bowl of watery cream of wheat and bitter paper cup of coffee.

Bane turned the Ace of Clubs card around and deciphered the longest out of the previously sent cards.

"I'm sorry, I just wanted to see if I could topple a mountain. Join me."

As Bane used the cornstarch spork to swirl his bland breakfast, on the other side of the facility, the Joker was readied for a session with a new legal clerk.

The Joker would never be able to win an appeal, there was no bleeding heart in existence that would ever decry the Joker's confinement.

More than half the time, the legal representative inside the private counsel room in the Asylum were either all Johnny law or fan-fuck boys and girls.

Copious books were produced after face-to-face visits with the Joker or talking through a thick sheet of plexi-glass. Sometimes all it took was the Joker's winking reflection from the shiny part inside an aluminum can of soda.

While Bane slogged down the tepid, unsweetened coffee, on the first-floor counsel room, Joker met Isaak Cain, wearing the same suit as when he initially met with Bane.

The Joker's nostrils flared as he was secured to the chair across from Isaak.

Isaak was dressed sharply but still a tiger who'd just shredded open the abdomen of a zebra, viscera stuck in his teeth as he smiled widely.

The Joker recognized another predator but could smell the penitence and willingness to bend the knee. Bane had allowed Isaak to suss out any useful information that the Joker might have, as well as judge the veracity of his testimony.

Isaak would continue booking back-to-back sessions with the Joker and Bane, concocting, conspiring, and planning to again rattle Gotham City to its fragile, recovering core.

As the Joker and Isaak remained deep in criminal discussion, across the facility, Bane was led to Maureen's office.

Maureen sat with her eyes closed, soaking in the sun through the tall windows as Bane was led to her office. She hadn't slept well, certain she'd been experiencing early night sweats as she woke up with cold, wet sheets for the third morning in a row.

She had stopped by the twenty-four-fitness center before arriving at Arkham, she'd sat in the redwood sauna for thirty-five minutes, deeply breathing in the hot, eucalyptus scented air.

Maureen opened the door and immediately found the Bane that walked by to be different than every other time they'd interacted.

She waited until Boris left and she'd locked the door before addressing Bane.

"Good morning."

"Good morning doctor, how did you sleep?" Bane immediately rebutted.

"Fine, thank you," Maureen said in a halting staccato. "And yourself?" she added.

"Is it a problem for me to ask you questions?"

"Pardon?" Maureen asked, her tired brain having a hard time keeping a neutral expression, longing for the day to be over before it had even started.

"Am I allowed to ask you questions?" Bane asked.

Maureen sat down her pen, "Certainly, provided they are relevant to the sessions and not a part of the sealed state's evidence that I'm legally barred from discussing."

Bane stayed silent until Maureen turned her attention back to her pad of paper. He didn't know as his eyes landed on her dazzling wedding ring set, that she was now married to a man who'd been cremated nearly eight years before. Bane didn't know he was studying a woman stuck in time, land-locked by her grief.

"How's the nausea and indigestion been since the medication switch?" Maureen asked before looking up, showing no reaction to being suddenly inundated by his penetrating stare, his chestnut orbs pulsed with burnt caramel fire.

"It's manageable," Bane finally answered as Maureen returned his wordless stare.

Maureen nodded and made a note on his chart before tapping the end of the pencil against the paper. "And your quality of sleep?"

Bane stared at her a moment, seeing her neutral façade slipping around the edges.

"Is that the question you truly wish to ask me?" he finally asked.

"Pardon?"

"Do you really wish to know about the quality of my sleep?"

"Yes, in addition to many others," Maureen added as she tapped her lined notebook which was filled with inquiries.

"What other questions do you have in there?"

Maureen flipped through the pages, her eyes skimming over her sloppy cursive. Inside she thought that she was just tired enough to play a game of Russian roulette with a possibly fully loaded gun. "Alright, what would you do if you were on the other side of these walls right now?"

"I would fulfill Ras al Ghul's destiny and burn the city to the ground."

Maureen arched an eyebrow. "How would you do that without the army you had before and Talia al Ghul's leadership?" she asked on a lilt, waiting for a reaction after she pulled the sabretooth tiger's tail. Maureen kept her expression unreadable as she watched the corners of Bane's face pulse as he clenched his jaw at her question. He grew rigid in the chair, and she could imagine how much he wanted to lunge towards her but was restrained by cushioned handcuffs with reinforced steel links between them.

"There is no end to the brothers and sisters that are waiting to serve, just out of plain sight."

Maureen nodded and drew a question mark on her notepad.

"So you would raise a new army and how would you fulfill this destiny without the neutron bomb?"

"There are easier ways to call forth an army and bring about death," Bane murmured.

Maureen nodded and circled the question mark.

Bane spoke before she could ask her next question.

"What would your recommendation to the courts be if asked today?"

Maureen couldn't help but chuckle. "Well that's a loaded question."

Bane waited as Maureen closed her notebook, straining his eyes to discern any of the looping letters before she shut the blue and white cover before she spoke.

"It wouldn't be appropriate of me to answer that question," she finally said, leaving Bane wholly unsatisfied with her evenly spoken syllables.

"You know as well as I, that there is no chance of me being confined here for the rest of my days, tell me what you would state in your evaluation."

Maureen leveled her gaze at Bane, hearing the stirrings of suppressed primitive rage in his tone. "I haven't reached a place that I could make a formal recommendation."

"Then your informal opinion," Bane quickly rebutted.

Maureen pressed her lips together to keep from smirking as she reached for the antique glass bowl of shiny, candy-coated chocolates.

"Doctor. Please," Bane forced himself to say on a ragged whisper, despising the begging undertone that stained his syllables. He looked down the floor, expecting to see the ground open up underneath him to swallow the crippling blow to his pride and ego, the pleading was so foreign on his tongue.

Maureen took a deep breath and cleared her throat as she studied Bane's face, etched with the scars of his violent life, all he'd seen and done as he'd walked the earth remained in his unblinking eyes as he returned her wordless stare.

Maureen plucked a few candies from the bowl, not paying attention to the colors as she embraced the recklessness her fatigue had given birth to as she allowed her eyes to openly scrutinize patient number SE10190779's face.

The surgical scarring had only further enhanced Bane's sharp features.

Maureen lazily moved her gaze over his cheekbones which could cut through tempered glass and along the sharp line of his jaw until she watched his lips form his next words. "Tell me what you see doctor."

Maureen moved her eyes up to meet his, the irises were a swirling, rust-colored, burning pile of Autumn leaves as he waited for her to speak, longing to be unrestrained and encourage her to answer.

"Will you tell me how you actually feel and provide honest answers for my informal opinion?" she volleyed back over the net.

Bane narrowed his eyes, evaluating Maureen from his restrained position across from her before nodding. "I will," he stated.

Maureen couldn't help but smile, gifting Bane with a rare and genuine smile pull at the corners of her lips, unable to recall the last time she'd truly smiled at someone. "I watched hours of footage captured of you, both by people on their phones as well as what's been submitted by the prosecution."

Bane nodded as Maureen continued. "I saw the terror you brought to the city, but I also see you as more than a criminal."

"What else do you see me as?" Bane immediately jumped on.

"You've endured a lot of suffering and even though you state it hasn't affected you, it has. I see you as a man with needs and wants that you're afraid of admitting."

"Afraid?" he interrupted.

"There's no need for defensiveness, everyone has fears."

"What are you afraid of doctor?"

Maureen smirked; "do you want to hear that I'm afraid of you?"

"No."

"No?" Maureen asked, unable to conceal her surprise as he shook his head, wordlessly reiterating.

She dropped her gaze to the candy bowl, chastising herself for unprofessionally enjoying herself, knowing she needed to stop with the playing.

Bane watch her sift through the candy bowl and select a primary-colored trifecta.

"Tell me what you're afraid of," Bane stated in a tone just shy of demanding before she raised her eyes to meet his.

"No," Maureen said. "I apologize for encouraging this deviation, I'm going to end the session for today and we'll meet later this week," she said as she reached for the phone to call Boris back early, knowing he was most likely down in the hospital wing flirting, badly, with the new dayshift lead nurse.

"You're only refusing because I am chained to this chair," Bane growled at her fearless reply.

Maureen dropped the phone back into the cradle at his words and couldn't stop from becoming the embodiment of Jacques Cousteau after the elusive deep-sea giant squid, when Bane fished with his accurate statement. She dove to greater depths than a human should even fantasize about with their infantile lungs among the depths of the ocean, a place where light went to die as she let him get further under her skin.

"Well that's a pretty easy deduction there, anything else of the obvious that you'd like to state?" she smirked and leaned back in her leather chair, crossing her legs.

Bane's nostrils flared at her smug smile as she waited for him to drive his words back over the net towards her with the force of an intercontinental ballistic missile.

"Without these restraints, the continuance of your life would be solely at my discretion."

Maureen shrugged, "that tracks."

"Do you think your impertinence is cute doctor?"

"I could ask the same about your threats," she quickly rebutted.

"I am not threatening you doctor; I am reminding you of how different you would be speaking if I was not under lock and key," Bane practically growled as he flexed his arms, his brachial arteries a fat, blue ridge over his heavily muscled bicep, under his taut skin.

"I would not speak to you any differently, you would still be the same person, just a realization of your known capacity," Maureen said in a low pitch, trying to keep her quickened breathing rate under control, conscious of her every movement in an effort to maintain a casual façade.

It was Bane's turn to be unable to conceal surprise from briefly filling his face as he spoke. "You think I'd be the same person without your shackles and restraints?"

Maureen nodded. "You'd just be able to completely be yourself, you could embrace your full potential."

Bane considered her words, moving his eyes from her face to look from framed degree to certificate from a couple universities covered in Ivy. He set his lips in a firm line as he felt a swell of insecurity at knowing her intellect was larger than his, that even though he could end her life without a shred of effort, that he could never possess her neurological prowess.

"Are you afraid now?" Bane asked when Maureen remained wordless and picked the phone back up.

"No, I shouldn't have let the conversation deviate so much, that's my fault," Maureen said as she began to dial Boris's five-digit extension.

Bane stopped thinking about toying with her as she pressed the grey, square button for the number four.

"Doctor," Bane struggled to say calmly as she pressed the square number three.

"Yes?" Maureen said without looking over at him as she depressed the number five.

"I'm sorry," Bane said so low that Maureen barely heard him.

"Excuse me?" she asked, pausing with her fingertip over the sixth button on the keypad.

"I apologize for, for speaking to you in that way, I also strayed from decorum, you have demonstrated nothing but professional courtesy in these sessions."

Bane held his breath as Maureen's fingertip continued to hover over the sixth button as she looked over, nearly startled at his admission as she met his eyes, searching for deception in his fiery, orbs, only naked truth was present in the deep orange of pyroclastic eruptions.

"I would not like to see the session end early," Bane added as Maureen narrowed her eyes as she evaluated the veracity of his testimony.

Bane slowly let out his breath as Maureen replaced the phone in the cradle. "Do you feel you benefit from these sessions?" she asked, her question catching him off guard.

Bane nodded as Maureen pulled the candy dish closer and shifted as she pressed. "How do you benefit?"

Maureen dug around the dish for the blue candies as Bane couldn't force himself to articulate that time in her office was a respite from being surrounded by the insane and the varying temperaments of the guards and technicians.

"You expect me to find you a safe place to share doctor?" Bane asked as he stalled, struggling to formulate a coherent answer to her initial question.

"You can tell me anything," Maureen said.

When Maureen looked back at that precise moment, she would never know if she meant to sound suggestive and of a license losing nature.

Bane let a slow smile tug at the corners of his lips, his bottom lip marred with just enough scar tissue to invoke fear over disfigurement.

"I can breathe freely here doctor, there is no fear present."

"You're afraid?" Maureen asked, not caring that her tone held a bit of shock and awe.

"Someone is always waiting to offer a challenge," Bane flatly stated, his cheek twitching as a visual reminder.

"Has another inmate hurt you?" Maureen pounced at his words.

Bane reminded wordless until she pressed.

"A guard?"

Bane's expression revealed nothing of the whirring neural activity as he thought of everything he couldn't tell her. The fights at the three-a.m. shift change, the solicited murders and targeted hobbling, and interrogations that were illegal on American soil.

"It's best to keep a separation of that from these sessions," Bane lamely managed.

Maureen frowned, "it's important that I know of any abuse, regardless of how insignificant it seems to you."

"I will not bring that element into this office," Bane said.

Maureen made a mental note to return to the topic, "what other benefits do our sessions provide?"

Bane toyed with the idea of bringing up another opportunity to share the elevator but decided against it, knowing she'd finish dialing the extension for Boris at that point.

"I enjoy having your full attention," Bane delivered bluntly.

Maureen cleared her throat under the weight of his gaze, dropping her eyes to the hem of her skirt and plucking away invisible strands of lint.

Bane watched her spin her wedding ring around her slim finger, unaware she was performing the action.

"Do you discuss your day with your husband?"

Maureen thought of Josef's brushed bronze urn on the mantle as Bane continued. "What kind of man is your husband?"

She looked over at her and Josef's wedding photo, "we're both scientists, doctors."

"What is he like?" Bane further pressed.

"Kind," Maureen said with a small smile.

Bane swore under his breath and Maureen jumped when Boris knocked on her office door, returning from another unsuccessful try at the new nurse's phone number.

"Are you disappointed our time is up doctor?" Bane hoarsely asked, his fingertips tingling with electrical wantonness to touch her.

"I will see you in two days," Maureen said, ignoring his question as she let Boris in the door.

Maureen's attention shifted back to her desk when her phone rang. As she turned towards her desk, the movement brought her closer to Bane than she realized before he flicked his fingers out to dance against the center of her palm.

Maureen pulled her hand back with a startled gasp, "don't do that," she managed, forcing herself to not rub her hands together, her skin scorched like she'd just touched liquid fire.

"Two days," Bane parroted as he allowed Boris to lead him back to his temporary room.