Chapter Twenty: Take my Hand
"Would you choose to leave here with me Miss Mourn?" Bane asked her unconscious face.
As the moon rose high overhead and shined its face over Gotham City and the surrounding cities, Bane stayed at Gwendolyn's bedside, upright in a rigidly backed chair. He found brief stretches of sleep, never drifting completely into a deep sleep for fear that Gwendolyn would disappear with the rising sun.
The next morning, Gwendolyn stirred as shafts of sunlight streamed in through her room's large window. She groaned as her shoulder throbbed under the thick bandages.
"How are you feeling Miss Mourn?"
Gwendolyn couldn't help but flinch as Bane's voice came from the small, attached bathroom's doorway.
She looked over to find him holding a tray with a glass French press, squat ceramic mug and plate of stone fruit, pair of hard-boiled eggs and buttered toast.
Gwendolyn smoothed her messy hair back and off her forehead as Bane settled her breakfast on the rolling metal tray that fit over the bed and could be adjusted to just the right height for her to comfortably eat.
"Thank you," Gwendolyn murmured, her voice hoarse from the endotracheal tube that had been in place during surgery.
Bane nodded as he turned his attention to the cupboards and carts in her room.
Gwendolyn nibbled on the edge of toast as she watched Bane gather sterile packages of thick gauze, a tube of antibiotic cream and roll of paper tape.
"What are you doing?" she asked as she sipped at the cup of coffee he'd poured for her.
"After you've eaten, I'm going to change the bandages on your shoulder," he stated in a series of mechanical wheezes.
Gwendolyn parroted his earlier nod and finished another piece of toast before pushing the tray away, clumsily wiping the crumbs off her lap.
Bane moved the rolling tray away from Gwendolyn's bed and pushed the plastic button that raised the height of her bed.
She held her breath as Bane reached for the looping bow of the cotton ties that held her gown together.
Gwendolyn watched as Bane's hands moved deftly in removing her layers of gauze and square padding that was soaked with old blood.
She hissed when her eyes landed on the just healing surgical incision.
Doctor Fell had tried to minimize the scarring, but his hands were tied with how badly the exit wound had torn her flesh apart.
"Am I going to have any permanent damage?" Gwendolyn asked as Bane cleaned the margins of the wound.
"No, the doctor believes you will heal without any lasting damage."
Gwendolyn visibly relaxed at his words, quickly returning to frowning at the gruesome incision.
"This will lessen over time," Bane said in a haunting mechanical melody as he traced the rough pad of his fingertip around the perimeter of the freshly sutured wound.
As Bane finished bandaging Gwendolyn's wound, carefully, letting his touch linger, back in Gotham, Blake and Gordon were huddled together with a few members of the task force assigned exclusively to Gwendolyn's armed abduction and Bane.
Gotham's SWAT team had descended upon the mall after Bane's getaway, multiple arrests had been made but no leads had panned out on the missing journalist.
As Blake and Gordon poured over photos and videos taken of the mall and where Bane was believed to be locked away with the missing television journalist, back at the Tri-Towers, Bane cleaned up the used paper wrappers and wheeled her bedside tray back in place, ensuring her plastic pitcher of water was filled.
Bane could clearly see the turmoil in her cerulean blue orbs, the pyroclastic mixture of fear and confusion at the unknown.
He was positively divided on what to say to her, ending up remaining mute.
Bane ended up abruptly leaving the room, mumbling an incoherent goodbye as he closed the door behind him.
Gwendolyn stared at the empty spot he'd just occupied, his peculiar exit only adding to her confusion.
Sleep eventually found her, and she wouldn't stir until Doctor Fell and his nurse knocked on her door the next morning.
They walked in with Bane behind them, a moving wall of muscle.
"Good morning," August Fell said and explained after exchanging pleasantries that he'd be removing her surgical drain. That she was healing at a good pace.
Bane drew closer with each passing second it took Doctor Fell's nurse to peel away Gwendolyn's bandages, exposing the wound and the drain spouting from the incision.
Doctor Fell warned that there would be a fair amount of discomfort as the drain was removed.
Gwendolyn whipped her head towards Bane when he captured her hand, squeezing rhythmically as Doctor Fell began to remove the drain.
Fat tears rolled down Gwendolyn's cheeks as the last of the drain was removed, the pain sharp, intense, squeezing Bane's hand as she surfed the waves of pain.
She was grateful for the fast-acting opiate the nurse slipped into her I.V. Just enough of a drug to soothe her pain receptors but not knock her down or out.
Bane watched as Dr. Fell exited and his nurse finished dressing the wound, rushing in order to be away from the masked man and his dangerous silence.
August Fell had met his nurse, Irina Solovyov, decades before, love at first sight if there was such a thing. She'd been with him since his meteoric rise practicing medicine in illegal circles for huge cash payments and trips around the world on billion-dollar yachts owned by oligarchs.
Irina fumbled the thick roll of absorbent gauze when Bane shifted his weight. The gauze landed on Gwendolyn's tray and knocked her coffee into her lap.
Gwendolyn couldn't help but give a startled shout when the hot coffee landed on her lap, protected from the scalding French roast by the hospital gown.
"Go about your work elsewhere," Bane growled as he walked around the side of the bed, making Irina pivot on her heel and exit without taking her eyes off him.
Bane shut and locked the door before Irina could apologize to Gwendolyn for spilling the coffee on her lap.
Gwendolyn mopped at her saturated gown with a few coarse paper towels, not making much progress as Bane returned to her bedside.
He had filled a pink basin with hot, soapy water and held a stack of varying sized towels, new gown, and non-slip socks.
Gwendolyn felt hesitance fall around her for a beat but vaguely and vividly remembered Bane's touch as she'd floated in and out of chemical unconscious.
She felt a shiver of remembrance of him smoothing lotion over her skin and replacing the gown's cloth back in place, tucking the linen snug around her sleeping form.
Bane kept his eyes on hers, unblinking as he pulled away the bedlinen and began to strip away her soaked cotton gown.
Gwendolyn didn't know where to put her hands as Bane saturated a rag and agitated the wet fibers until suds spilled forth.
Her breath came out in a slow shudder as Bane began to drag the cloth along her bare skin, murmuring an incoherent, soothing melody more for his benefit not hers.
Gwendolyn felt her mouth go dry as Bane began to dry her with slow, languorous strokes, the cotton fibers bloating as they drank the scented beads of water.
"Are you going to be leaving after this?" Gwendolyn heard herself ask.
Bane paused as he unfolded her fresh gown.
"Do you desire an absence of my presence?"
Gwendolyn held his fiery orbs before a flattering flush kissed her features and she looked away, shaking her head, "no," she said softly.
"No?" he asked mechanically.
Gwendolyn shook her head.
"You desire that I remain Miss Mourn?" he wheezed.
Gwendolyn pressed her lips together before giving he barest of a nod.
Behind his mask, Bane smiled as he helped Gwendolyn into the new gown.
"Miss Mourn?" Bane rasped at Gwendolyn's unreadable eyes, but sparkling eyes made even brighter by their film of unshed tears.
"It gets, it, it gets cold and lonely," she admitted. Too embarrassed to tell him how scared she initially was when she stirred in the middle of night and was momentarily paralyzed from fear.
Bane remained wordless as he tied the straps of her cotton gown in place, letting the rough tips of his fingertips linger on her skin.
Bane forced himself to clean up the soiled laundry and clean up her sleeping area, pushing her overbed tray back in place and pouring her a fresh cup of coffee.
Gwendolyn watched him move around the room, each step and movement deliberate, nothing he did was fanciful.
She watched from the bed as she pulled a blanket over her lap as Bane dragged a heavy, rigidly backed chair close to her elevated bedside.
Gwendolyn knew the chair had to be uncomfortable, she'd watched him move and noticed that he must have chronic aches in his joints and perpetual back pain.
She sipped at her hot coffee, speaking as her lips were close to the dark pink plastic rim of the cup.
"You could stay here," Gwendolyn murmured before she quickly took a big sip of the unsweetened coffee.
Bane looked up, unable to conceal the startlement from his visible features.
"There?" he echoed, pointing to the rigid chair.
Gwendolyn set down her half-empty cup, holding his penetrating gaze with a great deal of effort.
"Here," she murmured as she never blinked and patted the empty space on the bed beside her.