Chapter Eleven: Now to a Commercial Break
Bane's eyes drank in Gwendolyn as Talia threw a few parting words over her shoulder.
Talia's words in the dead language, gave life to the fire inside Bane's belly.
"Don't let her out of your sight and make her compliant."
Gwendolyn stared at Talia as she stomped from the room, watching long after she was out of sight before letting out a shaky breath as she returned her eyes to the hulking masked man.
She was transported back to the newsroom where she filmed The Morning Hoot as Bane gestured towards a door marked Fire Exit.
Gwendolyn shook her head, squeezing her hands around the chair's wooden arm rests until her knuckles turned white.
Bane held her in his gaze, considering her refusal.
She heard his deep mechanical inhale as he was confronted with such beautiful opposition.
Bane was accustomed to silencing protesting tongues and bring beating, defiant hearts to a standstill.
"I can carry you or you can take my hand," Bane finally rasped as he extended his hand towards her.
Bane had deliberately picked up Gwendolyn's wickedly high heels but didn't hand them to her before his silence encouraged her to leave the makeshift news studio through a door, a mystery to her as to what could be on the other side.
Bane followed at a close distance, certain there was a chance she might take off running or make a foolish attempt to hobble him.
Gwendolyn looked around the stores in the abandoned mall, amazed at how many were still packed with inventory, whether it be clothes boutiques, upscale candle stores and bargain bookstores.
"I can't believe how much stuff is still here," Gwendolyn couldn't help but remark aloud.
"We've quietly occupied this space for a while, neutralized threats," Bane rasped melodically from behind her.
Gwendolyn suppressed a shiver at the tactics a man like him must employ to neutralize any threat made against him.
Bane and Gwendolyn remained in collective silence as they approached a pair of glass double doors for a popular, nationwide furniture and housewares store.
Bane increased his pace and flanked Gwendolyn as he led her to a part of the store with rooms that were partially furnished to look like perfectly inhabitable kitchens, bathrooms, and bedrooms.
The store's patented design plan increased sales substantially when customers could see and spend time in rooms before paying. People didn't bat an eye at the exorbitant costs when they could recline on loveseats next to artificially created sunny bay windows.
Some of the men that Talia had procured to her band of murderous thugs and warriors had mechanical experience, one even a plumber after his dishonorable military discharge.
Several of the men had modified a few of the display rooms to be fairly functional, the spacious tiled bathroom had a small supply of warm water for a quick shower.
Bane paused outside the white and grey tiled bathroom with an extra wide display doorway with no door.
"Let me go, please, I won't say anything to anyone," Gwendolyn pleaded, her words trailing off into incoherent babbling when Bane took a large step forward, suddenly looming over her, leaving her in the shadow of Olympus.
She cried out when Bane reached out a hand, thinking he was going to grab her.
Gwendolyn froze when Bane wiped away a bit of remaining blood perched on her lower lip, speaking in a low, dangerous melody.
"This is your opportunity to clean up, do not squander this time Miss Mourn," Bane advised.
Gwendolyn gave a frustrated sigh, keeping so much unsaid, knowing what a hollow effort it would be.
She shook her head and dropped her eyes from Bane's, whipping her head away so he couldn't see the fear blossom in her bright cerulean blue eyes.
Bane watched her pass through the extra wide doorway of the fully furnished and mostly functional bathroom, stopping in front of the large mirror over the set of double porcelain sinks.
Gwendolyn froze when Bane leaned in the doorway and set her cosmetic case on top of the bright mosaic tile surrounding the deep sinks before exiting as quickly as he'd encroached.
She let out a slow breath and met her reflection, shocked at how wide her eyes were, her pupils looked blown open with how inky black and dilated they were.
Outside of the almost complete bathroom, Bane angled himself so he was out of Gwendolyn's line of sight but could clearly see her reflected in the shiny mirrors.
He frowned when her small hiss of pain reached his ears as she dabbed at her swollen lip with the corner of a wet washcloth. Her own forehead pulled into a matching frown as she leaned closer to the mirror's surface and wiped the cloth around the reddened, raised flesh.
The shrill ringtone shattered bane's contented voyeurism and he growled softly as he plucked his phone from his reinforced vest's pocket, seeing Talia's number flash across the rectangular screen.
Bane answered the call at the start of the second ring, holding his ground and continuing to watch Gwendolyn wash her face and brush her hair as Talia delivered a summary of the tasks she needed to deal with.
Bane replied in single, staccato syllables where appropriate as Talia stated she was calling from Wayne Enterprises where she'd changed into her Miranda Tate ensemble before being updated by Detective Blake as well as a private conversation with Commissioner Gordon. Talia shared that during their private chat in a spacious office, Gordon had assured her that her safety was his number one priority, and he would bring the perpetrators to justice.
The corners of Bane's lips twitched as Talia told him she'd be gone for at least a few days with all the fires she had to put out from the fallout at the news station as well as the death of Bruce Wayne and the Batman.
Gordon hadn't shared with Miranda that Selina Kyle had tried to pick-pocket the wrong person the night before outside of a night club. The easy mark she thought was just a stumbling drunk was quicker than her, even heavily intoxicated, and beat her to death in the alley adjacent to the club.
Selina's death was witnessed by a handful of society's forgotten citizens, beggars and drunkards with cardboard signs and failing livers.
Selina's body had been found in a dumpster and identified by her thieving roommate.
Bane stopped hearing Talia as he watched Gwendolyn fold a two-ply tissue and rub it under her lower lash line.
Talia didn't detect the subtle changes in Bane's breathing as he was drawn into the world of watching Gwendolyn move with methodical precision through her beauty routine, nerves made her movements deliberate.
Bane was transported swiftly back to his childhood, standing in the doorway to his parents' bedroom as his mother cleaned up her face after being beaten by his father.
He didn't know as he stood there watching her run a folded tissue under her swollen eyes that she'd been beaten for undercooking the roast.
Bane had become fascinated and captivated with beauty and femininity at that moment.
The world he inhabited with Talia was devoid of beauty, fragility, and grace.
Talia only wore the Miranda Tate suit, under the façade, her fingernails were uneven, dirty. She was rough-hewn and unpolished, not the picture of lovely elegance.
Bane was shaken back to reality when Gwendolyn latched her cosmetic case and smeared on a layer of clear lip balm, careful to avoid the sore corner.
He ended the call with Talia after she reiterated him securing Gwendolyn's full cooperation.
Bane's fingertips tingled, feeling compelled to reach out and touch her when she emerged from the retail bathroom, to see if she was real when his eyes moved over Gwendolyn's face free of makeup, not filtered for televised viewing pleasure.
He wondered briefly, how many people had seen this much of her true self, not camouflaged in couture.
Bane pushed the thoughts away and escorted her to another section of the store that boasted semi-working kitchens and living rooms.
Gwendolyn was glad to be able to sink into the plush cushions of a compact sofa, the smooth micro-suede was a rich olive-green shade.
She was startled to see the television worked and quickly scrolled through the guide until she landed on a popular trivia show rerun.
Gwendolyn found the distraction needed, grateful to lob internal criticism towards the gaudy outfits, shitty makeup person and tacky prizes.
"I was watching that," Gwendolyn stated flatly when Bane plucked the remote from the cushion next to her.
Bane ignored her as he began scrolling through the channels.
"This," Bane proclaimed loudly as he sat down heavily on the sofa cushion next to her. "This is real television," he added as he turned up the volume of a recently aired episode of her new show, Mourning in Gotham.
The entirety of the show was built on a foundation of news poached from social media and conversation snippets from the dark web. Every part of the new show was accusatory, slanderous, hateful, and ugly.
"Watch this with me," Bane murmured in an amused melodious tone as Gwendolyn looked down at her lap when the show began.
Gwendolyn glanced up at the HD screen, remembering how itchy that green blouse had been the day the episode had been filmed.
"Why is this necessary?" she asked before Bane turned up the volume, drowning her out.
Gwendolyn pressed her lips together as she watched and listened to herself condemn with nasty, revolting words, spewed from glossy, dark pink lips.
"Welcome to Mourning in Gotham, I'm Gwendolyn Mourn, and it is truly with a heavy heart that I bring this to you, constant viewers, patriots all of you," Gwendolyn started as Bane shifted closer, their thighs nearly touching as her television screen self, discussed finding the bodies of an affluent Gotham City couple who had alleged ties to the criminal underworld.
"The masked terrorist known as Bane has killed the son and daughter-in-law of a Wayne Enterprise board member. According to Gotham City Police Department spokesperson Anna Celeste, Bane killed Mr. and Mrs. Bryce Hollingsworth, the son of Wayne Enterprise's board member Arthur Hollingsworth."
"This terrorist has compromised the Gotham Exchange and traumatized countless citizens, residents seeking mental health care has tripled in the last month and no one is doing anything to stop this man that is hiding his identity behind a mask because he is afraid of people seeing his true face."
Gwendolyn swallowed hard, continuing to stare straight ahead when Bane put the episode on pause.
"Do you think I fear your judgement?" Bane asked.
Gwendolyn closed her eyes and shook her head as he turned back on her speaking in mid-sentence.
"….. Scientists on the 'Book of the Face,' and my very own next-door neighbor who went to community college for chemical engineering and dropped out his first week, all say that this Bane character is all just a physical manifestation of someone that was bullied and picked on as a child."
Bane chuckled dangerously, the sound reverberating through his broad chest before he spoke, his words a haunting, broken lullaby.
"Is that what you think? Do you think I'm a little boy inside, scared?" Bane mocked as he turned off the television and shifted on the sofa to face her, wanting to make her look at him, give him the same attention she gave to millions of viewers every night.
Gwendolyn finally shook her head. "Not afraid," she choked, adding with a little more strength. "I don't think you're afraid," she managed.
Gwendolyn was thankful that the lights in the faux complete living room were low, she felt herself flush from the weight of his penetrating gaze, could still hear her rants and ignorant diagnoses spilling from the surround sound speakers.
"What is your opinion of me Miss Mourn? You may be candid with no cameras around to capture your words, no one else in Gotham will hear what you say," Bane murmured on a ragged, mechanical exhale.