Chapter 4

Author: If you are reading this story and even moderately enjoying it; or even if you didn't and want to provide feedback; LEAVE A REVIEW. DO IT. Let me know what you think! What do you like? What don't you like? I'd love to hear from you!

Disclaimer: I do not own Batman or any of the characters within the franchise. I own the original characters of this story as well as the plot that are not directly tied to the movie.

Bane gave Myra her space following what ended up as Myra reacting like a cornered cat. Bane was even absent for several days, which helped ease any discomfort or embarrassment Myra may have felt from their physical encounter. When Bane returned, however, they resumed their self-defense training as if nothing happened, though redness would periodically rise in Myra's cheeks depending on the situation. Bane chose to be polite and ignore it.

Bane also had a new point of contact regarding Myra's hostage situation. Following the planned takeover of Wayne Enterprises by Tahlia, John Daggett was less than pleased. This led to an altercation between him and Bane. The encounter ended with John Daggett's neck being snapped and his body tossed into a dumpster, with his Executive Vice President Phillip Stryver now assuming leadership of Daggett Industries. This also had the implications that Phillip Stryver resume the work that John Daggett had conducted concerning pushing the police towards a hostage exchange between two of Bane's men for Myra.

Leading up to John Daggett's death, Bane had found himself considerably easing the pressure on Daggett concerning driving the police towards a quick resolution. He wasn't sure if it was because he detested working with John Daggett and his superiority complex, or if it was because he was becoming use to the routine of having Myra around. Or quite frankly, even a third option in that he enjoyed her added presence.

However, Phillip Stryver had a fear of Bane that John Daggett did not possess which undoubtedly led to his own death. Once Phillip Stryver assumed command of Daggett Industries, he worked overtime with the police to resolve the hostage situation. This knowledge was constantly on Bane's mind as he interacted with Myra, knowing that any minute could potentially be their last.

Myra had been granted some measure of freedom since she had been taken hostage, which usually implied that she was allowed to escort herself to and from Bane's room to the sparring room when she wasn't holed up in her utility closet during the evenings and nights, where she was locked and enclosed for the night until someone fetched her in the morning to repeat the routine the next day. She was also allowed to sometimes enjoy freedoms and liberties outside of Bane's room during the day, which usually stretched as far as walking herself to the dining area or playing cards or another game or activity with Barsad directly outside of her room under the canopy that protected the electrical equipment from water damage. She didn't make any notion or attempt at escape, knowing her freedoms were precarious and that she had no real idea on how to actually get out of the underwater reflow system. That was her rational reasoning; in reality, she was comfortable with her routine and didn't want to ruin it.

During one of these card games with Barsad, she noticed Bane receiving a phone call while he was monitoring the electrical equipment displaying various information next to her and Barsad. When he answered it and determined who was calling him, he sauntered away enough from her and Barsad to be just out of ear shot so that he wouldn't be overheard. Myra's curiosity was peaked mildly.

The phone call was from Phillip Striver informing Bane that the police were attempting to keep his men as long as they could so that they could extract information from them. This was news Bane already knew from John Daggett. Additionally, he knew his men were not going to talk. That's why he chose them in the first place for the mission. "They will fail if that is their intent", Bane said irritably.

Striver continued on.

"Well…depending on what kind of techniques the police use, maybe one of them will talk…?"

Bane cut him off immediately.

"No. They would die first before talking."

Stryver was silent before replying, "You couldn't have picked a lousier hostage; she's a dud. No one is stepping forward to demand she be released, aside from Daggett Industries. She's also only an intern and she's new. We barely even know her; it doesn't seem sincere for us to even be asking for her to be released."

When Phillip Stryver said this, Bane's eyes turned towards Myra playing cards with Barsad. Myra sensed his eyes on her and lifted hers up to return his gaze. She didn't know what compelled her to do so, but she smiled sheepishly back at him before letting her smile falter after realizing how awkward it was to smile at him like that. She averted her gaze back down to her cards, focusing on the game pointedly to avoid embarrassment. Why do you do idiot things, smiling at him like that.

"We'll speak more of this later," Bane said before hanging up and making his way to Barsad and Myra. "Take her back to the parking garage room for the night", Bane ordered Barsad. Barsad put his cards down on the make-shift table made of boxes with a sigh, Myra doing the same though she shuffled the cards in her hand as if she had been on the verge of winning before also putting them down on the table.

Barsad led Myra down one of the outflow hallways before digging into his pocket and pulling out the blindfold, handing it over to Myra. Myra was so use to this routine that she simply took it and put it on herself with no fuss. She knew they were taking precautions so that she wouldn't be able to identify where the exit or entry point was to their main base set-up.

Once they made it to the metal rusty ladder that led up through a manhole, she took the blindfold off and climbed up the ladder after Barsad. They made their way to the bottom of the underground parking garage where she entered the room obediently. "Have a good night", he said politely before Myra heard the door close and click indicating it was locked from the outside. She settled on top of one of the sleeping bags before grabbing a book and making herself comfortable for the night.

Several hours later, Phillip Stryver called again.

The inflection in his voice and the note of panic was obvious to Bane as soon as he answered the phone.

"The police have men on their way right now to the location that video you released of the girl. They figured out where it was based on some nondescript cement building pattern on the wall…or some fucking thing, I don't know," Stryver said hurriedly. "I hope it's no where important."

Bane hung up without even acknowledging or saying another word to Stryver before he was storming towards the exit of the water outflow system base to the underground parking garage where Myra was kept. He was enraged. Enraged that the police were so fool-hearty as to attempt to extract a hostage. He was also enraged that he had been so foolish as to capture a video with enough physical evidence displayed in the video for the police to identify the exact building in which it was filmed. Bane rarely made tactical mistakes like that, and when he did, he was most definitely not pleased.

The combination of both his internal failings from a tactical perspective as well as the bold behavior displayed by the police led him to do irrational things. He didn't bring anyone with him when he stormed out of the underground base, thinking only of attempting to rectify the situation by extracting and removing Myra before the police arrived.

When he finally made it to the underground parking garage and stormed his way down to the utility closet, he observed that the utility closet door was wide open as he began approaching. He hurried his steps, practically barreling himself forward and finally through the door.

As soon as Bane made it through the door, Bane knew he made a mistake; possibly even a fatal mistake. As he was barreling through, he failed to check the corners of the room directly on either side of the door. As soon as he stopped, he felt a pair of pistols at his back.

"On your knees NOW. Raise your hands! We have orders to shoot on sight if needed – don't think we won't hesitate," an officer behind Bane's backed yelled at him. As Bane got onto his knees, he looked behind him and saw two officers with their guns aimed directly at his back. He looked into the other corner and saw Myra with another officer directly in front of her as if he were protecting her from Bane's unexpected arrival. This officer also had his gun directly aimed at Bane.

Myra was just as surprised at the arrival of Bane as the officers were, her surprise and shock interpreted by the officers as fear. Myra observed Bane's rigid body kneeling, vulnerable on the floor with three pistols aimed directly at him. She saw him turn his head slightly and his eyes made direct contact with hers. The look that she was expecting was one of rage, frustration, and anger - but the look he gave her made her heart stop and her breath catch. His eyes were unwavering and focused upon hers, enlarged, soft, with a look of…of relief? Why did he look relieved? Her heart started beating irregularly. You aren't gone yet, you idiot.

Myra stared back at him, searching his expression to confirm her suspicions. His look was unwavering upon hers, his attention entirely on her and he alone could care less that death was on his heals. She swallowed, before allowing her eyes to shift to the officer 'protecting' her in front of her between her and Bane. She looked back at Bane one more time, his eyes still soft and unwavering from hers as if she was the only thing that existed in the room.

"Sir? Do we have permission to shoot on site? Hostile targeted, ready for your order," one officer hurriedly shouted into a radio attached to their shoulder. As he did this, he ground his teeth. "Son of a bitch killed my partner…I should just do it and say he attacked us…" the officer continued on, expressing his own internal thoughts. The other two officers looked considerably uncomfortable at the proposition but neither of them objected.

Myra snapped out of her daze, allowing her focus to settle on the gun that the officer 'protecting' her was holding which was aimed directly at Bane. She looked back at Bane quickly, who despite hearing the perilous and murderous insinuations of the situation from the police officer pointing a gun at him, still considered to gaze softly at Myra.

Before Myra had time to think, before she had time to truly contemplate her actions, to truly understand the scope of what it was she was about to do, she lurched forward to duck underneath the police officer's arms, pushing his gun up and away from Bane's direct line of sight which caused the gun to go off from the officer's reflexes on the trigger. This distraction led the other two officers to snap their focus on her and the officer in the corner, which was all the distraction Bane needed.

Bane sprung from his kneeled position, spinning around and with a giant monstrous sweep of the arm, punched the first officer in the throat while using his other hand to grab the officer's face and smash it into the wall like putty. The officer that had been directly in front of Myra and who had discharged his weapon turned around and pushed her back against the wall where she ultimately stumbled onto her bottom. The officer spun around just in time to see a giant mass snare his vision into blackness, a hand squeezing his skull tightly before unceremoniously being ground into the concrete wall with a sickening crunch.

Myra stayed on the ground in complete shock at the carnage being laid before her. She didn't have the advantage of bringing her hands up to cover her face to block out the nightmarish images. She was transfixed. She was nauseous. She lurched to the side as she unloaded the contents of her stomach. After the contents of her stomach had been thoroughly dispelled, she brought her knees up to her chest and began to shake, closing her eyes tightly in an attempt to block the images. They were trying to protect me…they came here to rescue me. You killed them. They were innocent police officers just doing their job. They had families. They didn't deserve this.

Bane, in the meantime, moved towards her and bent down, ignoring her vomit and her obvious state of shock and put his hand around her arm. She struggled from him briefly, but he pulled her to her feet with one swift motion. Myra's balance and state of shock caused her to stumble and fall to the side though Bane's firm grip on her arm prevented her from falling to the ground. Thoughts of her actions and consequences swarmed her head. The sheer magnitude of what she did. She was responsible for the deaths of three good men. And for what? For someone that…that kidnapped me. Held me hostage. Held me…

Bane was out the door in a hurry, practically dragging Myra along at his side who continued to stumble and struggle, the scraping of her shoes heard periodically as her feet bent at an awkward angle and dragged before righting themselves. Bane's patience with her fumbling attempts at keeping up were resolved when he bent his arm to bring her closer, bending his body forward to scoop her up into a firm hold. Instead of having a calming effect at no longer being dragged, her heart immediately began to putter. Her eyes were immediately transfixed to his mask, mere inches from her own face. She wrapped her arms around his neck for balance.

The first physical sensation Myra came to focus on was his intense body heat. She also couldn't tell whether he was breathing heavy which caused his mask to make periodic 'shhing' sounds, or if it was his verbal attempts at calming her down from her obvious state of shock. Myra couldn't help but fixate on the actual shape and color of his eyes. Her heart began to pound against her chest. Bane's eyes shifted to look at hers, sensing her gaze.

Bane huffed slightly, readjusting her in his arms, his pace hurried, his eyebrows furrowed, eyes regaining their steely focus to detect any additional threats and his only concern being to get out of here with no further complications.

Bane relocated Myra to his room permanently, though he inwardly referred to it as 'her room' now that she spent a vast majority of her time there – more so than he did. Bane also made sure to continue on with their routine as if nothing had happened, hoping to keep her mind off of the events that had transpired with the police. He was ready to respond if he sensed any grief or trepidation on her part, knowing depression could be one's worst enemy.

Bane knew Myra had undoubtedly undergone moral torment from the decision she made in inadvertently aiding in the slaying of three officers who were there to extract her from the hostage situation. He also knew that decision would most likely haunt her for the rest of her life. He also would have willingly carried that burden of inner anguish and torment for her if he could, but he knew that was impossible. So he decided distraction and routine was the best form of medicine for now.

Myra did not show up to for sparring practice the following day, however. Bane did not like to be kept waiting, nor did he appreciate individuals being unpunctual regardless of any inner torment an individual may be experiencing, so when she failed to show up several minutes past their usual scheduled sparring time he immediately began stomping towards her room.

He entered the room without knocking or announcing himself, letting his eyes search the room before fully entering but already knowing she was going to be settled on the bed. The blanket fully covered her, but Bane saw a hand sneak out to clutch the corner of the blanket and tugging it up to further to shield her head after she undoubtedly heard him enter.

Bane seethed silently before stomping towards the bed, waiting for her to show herself. "You're late", he barked.

"I'm not feeling well," Myra said softly. Simply.

"That excuse again?" Bane said, knowing that was her go-to excuse for avoiding uncomfortable situations. He lost his patience and instead grabbed her blanket and ripped it off of her with a vicious tug. Myra was lying in a fetal position, wearing the usual sweatpants and loose tank top she used as pajamas indicating she hadn't even gotten up to prepare for her training. When the blanket was pulled away from her, she shrunk deeper into a fetal position, her back facing him. This irritated Bane, who threw the blanket into the corner of the room to highlight his annoyance.

"If you aren't up in 5 seconds, you'll regret it – I can promise you," Bane threatened with no indication at humor.

Myra's eyes had been open during this whole ordeal, and of course they grew larger at the threat laced in his tone. Myra has always been a curious woman, and part of her almost wanted to know what would happen after 5 seconds and she wasn't up. She also knew she was suffering inwardly from depression and was skirting along the fine edge of being considered suicidal. She hadn't slept all night, images of the previous day plastered in her mind making it difficult to rest or sleep. She felt herself become irrationally emboldened with her lack of self-preservation. She let the lids of her eyes drop slyly and looked to the side, deciding to wait it out and see what would happen. She inwardly counted to five, feeling Bane's eyes boring into the back of her head. When her count reached to 10 (she may have been counting a bit too fast to begin with), she felt him move behind her.

She felt a pair of masculine hands grab her from behind, one gripping her upper arm to force her onto her back as the other one reached over her to grip her other upper arm, hoisting her up and out of bed.

"I believe I've been spoiling you too excessively," Bane said as if lecturing a child.

Once fully hoisted out of bed, he kept her slightly elevated off the floor, the tips of her toes not making clearance with the floor. Myra simply gawked at him, curiosity piqued to see what he would do but sensibility and fear also making their way into her common senses. Bane gave her a look-over, noting huge dark circles under her eyes despite her having been in bed undoubtedly all day and all night; he wouldn't even be surprised if she had stayed in the cot since he had initially relocated her. He could also tell, based on her haggard appearance and dark circles, that she hadn't been sleeping well (if at all) most likely due to the mental anguish she was experiencing from the slaying of the three police officers.

Bane dismissed her appearance and made his way into the bathroom, positioning her under the shower, releasing her and letting her drop on her bottom to the floor. He turned the shower on and then bent down to put a hand on her shoulder to prevent her from moving. Cold water sprayed down directly on top of Myra, her body and clothing becoming soaked. Some of the water that fell down and ricocheted off of Myra splashed at Bane, but he remained relatively unphased. When she began to struggle, he reinforced the hold he had on her shoulder so that she was forced to endure the discomfort of being dowsed in her pajamas in icy cold water.

A good solid minute went by before Bane finally turned off the shower, watching her sputter and frantically wipe water and hair out of her eyes with amusement.

"There. That should help with your illness," Bane sneered.

Myra responded by bringing her knees up and both of her hands up to cover her chest, obviously soaked and most definitely immodest, but the chill of being soaking wet in frigid cold water compelled her to rub her hands against her arms vigorously. The glare she gave him as she looked up at him from the tiled floor would give any normal man chills, but it only brought Bane slight amusement.

Bane took a step away from her in an invitation to let her pass him back into the bedroom. She sprang at the opportunity, lifting herself up clumsily from the floor and marching past him with her posture slightly hunched as if to capture any remaining heat her body held in her chest. When she got to the center of the bedroom, she circled it for several seconds before turning back to him, her teeth chattering and pointing her finger at the exit.

"Get…out…" she stammered, a pool of water forming at her feet as water dropped off her body.

Bane's eyes crinkled in amusement as he sauntered out of the bathroom, moving to the exit before turning towards her.

"I'll give you 2 minutes and you better be ready," Bane said.

Myra only glared at him, not acknowledging his order but instead continued to let her teeth chatter and moved forward to slam the door after him.

Myra stripped off her wet clothes immediately, draping them over the door of the bathroom in hopes that they would dry relatively soon due to the lack of apparel options afforded her. She grabbed the only towel in the bathroom and began vigorously drying herself off. She moved back to the bedroom and stood in front of the pedestal sink and the mirror to aid in the process of drying her hair. As she ran the towel through her hair, gazing at the mirror, it reminded her of the evening she had seen Bane's unmasked reflection in the mirror.

No no no. STOP. Myra closed her eyes shut, smacking her hand at the side of her head. Stop it, you idiot. Stop it. Stop it. Stop it. Stop thinking about him. Myra felt conflicted; she knew if she steered her thoughts away from Bane, they would resettle back on images of the slain police officers. She decided to settle on the more positive imagery, as her mind shifted back to the shape and look of Bane's lips. She felt redness creep up into her face again as she bent forward to clutch the edge of the pedestal sink, dropping the towel to the ground.

When she heard the door to the bedroom begin to open, her eyes shot open and she immediately crouched down to pick up the towel in an attempt to retrieve it and cover herself before Bane came in. Bane looked at her as if he wasn't seeing a half-naked wet woman in his room.

"You still aren't ready? Have you not learned your lesson?" he said threateningly.

Myra kept fidgeting with the towel, looking down to make sure that it covered the appropriate areas but feeling one slight tug upwards to cover her breasts only meant less surface area of the towel to cover her thighs and crotch, which of course lead into a vicious cycle of tugging the towel up and down. She was looking down as she continued this awkward display, before a wave of boldness induced by her apparent lack of self-preservation considering her tormented mindset washed over her.

"No," she said before she could stop herself. Once the words were out of her lips, though, she owned up to them and even lifted her chin up at him confidently and let her chest puff out even slightly in the hopes of displaying her confidence.

Bane regarded her comment, fully entering the room and closing the door behind him so that no prying eyes would be able to see Myra in the towel, respecting her privacy in that regard. He casually strolled towards her, his weight shifting dramatically from one foot to the other as he came closer with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Oh?" he said, uncrossing his arms to allow for a hand to reach out and take hold of her chin so that he could examine her face properly. "It doesn't appear that the cold shower did the trick".

Myra knew he was making a double innuendo at both the fact that she was being mildly insubordinate as well as the fact that her face was now fully flushed. Her eyes settled on his as he regarded her, before finally letting her eyes drop down his mask and settled on the spot where his lips would be.

Bane's breathing was amplified through his mask as he continued to analyze her, the hold on her chin softening but maintaining its position. Bane brought his other hand forward slowly, settling on her hand that was fidgeting at the corner of her towel over her thighs. He engulfed her hand with his, easing her hand away from the hold she had on the towel and guiding it to his chest, the same spot where she had reflexively clutched at the day before. Once her hand was settled on his chest, he removed his hand from hers only to repeat the process with her other hand that was positioned over her breast. When he eased her grip away from the towel, her grip being the only thing that kept the towel up and from falling from the floor, he let his eyes dart down. The imagery that he saw reminded him of a sheet covering a prized sculpture being whisked away to present the grand display behind the fabric. Myra still had remnants of moisture covering her skin, but what he saw pleased him to put it mildly. His eyes to roamed over her body, before bringing them back up to hers.

Being in this compromised position made Myra bashful and awkward, and as soon as the towel got whisked away she compulsively curled her body inward in a display of modesty and tried angling her elbows inward to cover herself appropriately. After several moments of being eyeballed by Bane she started to feel extremely shy and embarrassed, unable to interpret whether he approved or was disappointed. When she moved a hand from his chest in an attempt to further cover herself, Bane wasn't having it.

"Don't. Your beautiful," he said gruffly, staring straight at her as if nothing else existed in the room.

Myra's cheeks flamed at his rare compliment, her eyes gazing back at his before she felt shy again and her eyes faltered and roamed off to the side. Bane took a half a step forward to bring himself even closer. It took all of Myra's willpower not to reflexively back up into the pedestal sink, aware of his mass and his strength.

Bane moved his hand to cup the side of her face, his other hand moving to rest on her shoulder before slowly gliding down her arm. The feeling of his fingers against her bare skin left it tingling, her lips slightly parting at the sensation. Bane's eyes darted to the movement of her lips, seeing no indication that she was in distress or uncomfortable. This emboldened him as his hand glided back up her arm, briefly making contact with her shoulder and across her collar bone before falling south down her chest.

Myra took a quick intake of breath as she felt a large, warm, calloused hand glide over her breast, cupping it before moving back up to repeat the gesture. Myra's lips opened wider but only to react to the sudden heaviness of breath she was feeling in her lungs. Bane continued to watch her for any indicator on her part that she was uncomfortable or repulsed, and after stroking her breast a second time and only seeing traces of curiosity mixed with a form of pleasure dance across her face, he made his move.

He reached forward and behind her with both hands suddenly, cupping her bottom firmly and lifting her up against him, encouraging her to wrap her legs around his waist as he turned them around and sauntered towards the cot. Myra reflexively curled her legs and thighs around him for support, but also clutched at the lapel of his jacket for dear life due to the suddenness and intensity of the act of picking her up and the centrifugal force of them turning around. She even momentarily forgot about her nakedness. Only for a moment, of course.

When he got to the cot, he leaned forward and let her fall back into it, softly coaxing her legs to disengage from his waist so that he could begin to remove his items of clothing.

Myra stared up at him from her back, his eyes unwavering from hers as he removed his clothing. The imagery of the intense, almost primal stare he gave her paired with the act of removing and discarding his clothing caused Myra to squirm, feeling warmth gathering and settling between her thighs. Her ears started to ring, her eyes glistening from the emotional intensity and built up frustration of the situation. Her body also instinctively reacted to his lustful stare with a subtle arch of her back and easing her knees and thighs apart invitingly, her mind in too much of a haze to realize or control the instinctual movements her body made.

When Bane saw her back arch slightly and her legs begin to part, the fervor in which he removed his clothes intensified. He practically tore them off. He let out a huff that sounded like a growl through his mask that caused a shiver to travel up her spine. His last pieces of clothing he removed was his back brace, which he did with care, followed by his pants, and finally his underwear briefs. He reinstated his back brace after removing his pants and moving the waistband of his briefs down enough to remove them later, knowing his back was going to undergo some level of exertion which would be infinitely more comfortable with the brace. Myra watched with impatience but could already see a large bulge straining against the fabric of his briefs threatening to tear through the fabric. Another shiver ran up her spine as she shyly observed the bulge, both in anticipation but also with slight trepidation due to his size. Is it possible to be TOO big? Will he even fit? Wait...what the hell am I doing? Is this too sudden? Does this feel rushed? No...it doesn't 'feel' rushed..it feels...Wait, why am I letting him do this? He's…killed people….But- I let people die to protect him…..He's...

Myra's thoughts did a mental whiplash back and forth between the justification of right and wrong of the situation. She was experiencing the same dangerous level of curiosity she had felt just moments earlier when she refused to get out of bed at the count of 5; she was curious to know what would happen if she saw this through. She could tell by the look that Bane was giving her and the gentleness he subscribed to treating her was his way of letting her now that he was aware of the tremendous weight she added on to her psyche from allowing those police officers die; all in a move to protect him, and he was enormously grateful. Myra knew perfectly well that his current actions could be a simple move by Bane to show his gratitude. Myra felt there were definitely worse ways to show someone gratitude.

She was in an extremely compromised position both physically and mentally, yet she didn't feel like she was. If anything, she hasn't felt this sure about anything since…Since when? She knew what was going to happen; she was willingly inviting someone else to enter her body. Bane. That thought alone indicated that she had a significant amount of trust towards that individual who was going to penetrate her body and briefly inhabit it with their own. That notion made her squirm. Metaphorical imagery of a person being invitingly asked into a house with a huge 'welcome' mat outside the front door popped into her mind. Stop thinking so much…

Myra's thoughts were wiped clear as Bane finally released himself from the confines of his underwear, letting them drop to the floor. Myra had a second to glimpse his nakedness before he was hovering over her, bringing his hand to rest palm-down by her head for leverage of his weight with one arm while the other hand found its way to her thighs. His hand at her thigh willed her legs further apart with care, his eyes fixated on hers as he performed his task. She could only return his stare as she felt her legs blossom open for him, feeling him lean his body forward between her knees to keep them open. Her knees rested on either side of him against the leather brace he wore at his waist.

Once that task was done, he allowed his hand to travel to her inner thigh until they brushed her womanly folds. His knuckles grazed over her softly, before one of his fingers swiped her opening. What he found caused him to huff out a seemingly aggressive breath through his mask in satisfaction, causing more goosebumps to find their way across her body. She was absolutely dripping with eagerness, with wetness. He let his finger linger, before testing her opening by sliding his finger in to determine the ease in which his finger entered her. It glided in smoothly without any friction whatsoever.

Myra inhaled sharply at the intrusion of his finger, knowing she must be soaking wet – almost embarrassingly eager. The feeling of his fingers against her, inside of her, was causing her toes to curl with pleasure. She reflexively brought her hands up to grip either side of his face as if she needed an anchor to focus her energy on to. As his finger pumped lightly into her, his thumb made its way to her sensitive nub further up her folds. He rubbed it gently in unison with his finger, which now curled and uncurled against her inner flesh to stimulate her further. Myra lost her mind. The breath that she inhaled seconds earlier was finally released in a very soft moan, her legs bending and unbending as if they were unsure what to do or how to respond to the intense sexual pleasure. She didn't care that they were beginning to get rubbed raw from the friction against the leather brace he wore.

Bane continued to watch her with his brows now furrowed as if in slight concentration. He serviced her for several more moments before dislodging his fingers, seemingly satisfied with the results. Despite it being undoubtedly pleasurable for her, the activities of his fingers also ensured she was stimulated enough for him to enter her without causing her pain or injury. Myra could feel disappointment rise in her chest but knew he had bigger plans for her.

Bane grabbed his penis with his free hand and guided it to her moistened entrance. He inserted the head just barely, her folds parting with ease around the head, not fully entering her but putting him in the position where all he needed to do was provide one solid thrust and he would completely penetrate her. Once settled, he brought the hand that helped guide him to rest palm-down on the other side of her head, caging her head in with both of his hands. He looked down at her pointedly as if giving her one last chance to protest or change her mind. She held his face between both of her hands lightly, one thumb idly tracing the contour of his mask, gazing back up at him. When all he saw in her expression with lips parted with pleasure, eagerness, and want clearly played across her face threatening to burst from the anticipation, he propelled his hips forward with one powerful thrust.

Myra could feel her insides strain and possibly tear from the intrusion, even causing her to wince in pain and her fingers constrict against the skin on his face at the stretch she was feeling despite her state of arousal and lubrication. Bane was a huge man, everything about him was massive; the body part that found its way inside Myra was proportionate to the rest of him. She could feel him push all the way inside in what felt like to her very core, the head of his manhood reaching her cervix. It felt like a solid hard thick copper artillery shell driving deep inside of her. Bane settled, thankfully, and didn't attempt to remove himself and repeat the gesture until her body had ample time to respond, expand, and accommodate him. Bane let a husky groan escape from his lips from the sheer tightness and grip she had around him which highlighted her lack of recent sexual encounters. Bane observed her during the process, knowing she would undoubtedly undergo pain during the initial penetration due to his size. He waited until the tenseness in her face eased and her hands holding his face softened, indicating that her body had responded, accepted, and adapted to his. With that signal, he proceeded.

Bane was practically a machine, steam powered with willpower and grit. His strength, stamina, and intensity were unparalleled to anyone Myra has ever known. She knew that was partially what attracted her to him. She also knew his potential physically and knew despite the ferocity and force in which he thrust into her was astounding, she also knew that he was actively holding himself back else he injure and cripple her. The cot squealed and screamed from the weight of their bodies, the fabric straining with effort with every thrust Bane delivered.

Myra found the rise of an orgasm slowly forming and on the verge of erupting much sooner than she had anticipated considering the initial pain and discomfort she experienced. He was grinding into her at just the right angle, pausing at just the right moments, looking at her with just the right hunger in his eyes; it was difficult if not impossible for her to think or focus on anything else. She even made an attempt to will the orgasm from breaking free so soon, wanting to enjoy this moment with Bane because in this moment she didn't have to think or feel anything else except the look he gifted her and the feel of his body inside of her. However, when she did come, it was an eruption of senses; her back arched convulsively, her mouth opening in a silent scream before a low moan erupted from a deep pocket in her chest which slowly formed into the word "Bane". She threw her hands down to the cot to steady herself, shutting her eyes in hopes of taking back control of her senses, her toes curling and uncurling into the rough wool military blanket on the cot.

Bane watched her and felt her come beneath him, never ceasing his movements but watching idly and patiently as she bucked slightly from sheer pleasure. When Bane finally did come inside of her, it was practically an explosion, for nothing Bane ever did was mild. Myra even startled slightly at the magnitude of it, feeling the intensity of his release shooting its way up deep inside her with astounding force. The gasp she released from her lips wasn't just purely from the pleasure she was feeling, but also from the shock and startlement she felt from the force and intensity of his release.

Bane eased his movements, slowing down before finally releasing a huff through his mask that sounded like a gorilla claiming his territory. Beads of sweat littered his brow and dripped down the sides of his face, a few making the plunge from his skin to fall down onto Myra. A sheen of perspiration coated the rest of his body from the exertion. He kept his arms positioned on either side of her head which were used to leverage himself up off of her. He looked around the room briefly as if in confusion while he gathered his breath, stars dancing in front of his vision before letting his eyes finally settle back down on hers.

He finally removed himself from inside her after catching his breath. As he did, he shifted his weight on the cot just briefly. The strain of the fabric in the cot moaned, screamed, and then finally broke. They both crashed through the cot onto the floor. Myra banged the back of her head against the hard-tiled floor with Bane falling partially on top of her, though his reflexes were quick enough to where he was able to prevent most of his weight from squishing her by bringing his arms out.

Myra groaned in pain, bringing a hand to the back of her head to rub the spot where it made contact with the floor, one eye closing in a squint. Then a giggle erupted from her mouth. Bane's reaction was slightly more intense, his eyes fierce and his body rigid as if trying to decipher the situation and whether there was any possibility of a threat. After several moments of letting his head shift to the side to assure there wasn't anything sinister behind the cot breaking, he let his eyes fall back on hers and observed her giggling. He didn't reciprocate, but instead observed her with moderate curiosity. He brought his hands palm-down on either side of her head to keep himself leveraged up, the same as before, and kept his body rolled off of her less he accidentally squash her.

After several moments of watching her giggling fit, he let out a sigh as he maneuvered himself so that her body was no longer on the floor but now comfortably on his, deciding to settle on the floor under the tattered canopy of the destroyed cot. He moved his hand to her back and began lazily tracing his fingers up and down her spine, sounds of relaxation and contentedness heard through the grill of his mask mixed with the remnants of her giggling fit.

After they had settled for several moments, it being impossible to decipher who's sweat belonged to whom as she lay partially over him across his chest, she gazed up into his mask.

"Can I see you without your mask?" she asked timidly.

Bane's hand that was stroking her up and down along the spine stopped as he regarded her request, taking several moments to consider her question before resuming his gesture.

"No," he said simply.

Myra squirmed away from him as if affronted so that she could lean up on her elbow to glare at him. "Why not?", she retorted exasperatingly. Bane noted her timid act had vanished.

He replied casually, "Because you've already seen it off."

Myra retorted quickly, "I know, but I just-." She stopped herself, realizing that she was both caught not in a 'lie', per se, but definitely the withholding of information to him. Bane's eyes shot up and looked at her, satisfaction written in his eyes at catching her in his verbal trap.

Bane was smiling, which was evident by the creased that blossomed at the corner of his eyes.

"I told you that you would regret it if you weren't up in 5 seconds. Consider me denying your request your punishment."

This only infuriated Myra, who brought herself fully up off him, reaching up towards his mask with both hands as if taking it off were as simple as pushing a button. Bane didn't let her hands near his mask, casually batting them aside before holding them steady away from his mask by the wrist. Myra struggled just briefly but subdued almost immediately, knowing she was no match against him physically. He held both of her arms by the wrist, her fists clenched, her lower body flush against his. She rested her elbows on his chest and used them to leverage herself up, her back arched as she gave him a scowl. Bane found this vastly amusing, indented creases evident at the corner of his eyes as he smiled fondly at her. "That will teach you to do as you're told and to head my warnings", he snarked.

Bane kept Myra on a strict routine to keep her mind focused and distracted away from her tormented wonderings, knowing she was constantly on the edge of teetering into uncertainty and self-loathing over the decision she made to help protect him against the three police officers. One of the scheduled activities involved Myra continuing to expand her self-defense techniques. Besides from that activity which had already been routine, there were other activities that Bane inserted as routine that weren't strictly carnal. One of these included reading by the crude fire that Bane frequently used to make tea for himself. He made it a habit of demanding they sit by that fire and read for an hour before dinner was prepared. At first Myra and Bane sat separately and read in silence, Myra adjusting to the sudden familial tone that Bane set with this activity by sitting next to her as if it were the most casual thing in the world. After about a week of this situation and as Myra become more emboldened and comfortable around Bane, Myra made it a habit of resting a cheek on his arm as he read from his book aloud. He didn't seem to mind her intrusion or the request to be read to aloud, which helped solidify the new reading arrangement as the new routine. Myra preferred the sound of his voice, inflection, and ability to instill character and humor into the text to that of her own silent narrative. Myra knew reading was done when he snapped the book shut before hauling himself up with feigned exertion. He then would escort her to the kitchen where he would assist her with preparing a meal. Oftentimes it would simply be silence between the two of them, but for some reason Myra found great comfort in the normalcy of not needing to say a word. Sometimes, though, one of them would ask a question which was always answered abidingly by the other. Myra also started to get a good idea of what kind of mood Bane was in or what he was thinking based on the shape of his eyebrows and the intensity of his eyes, and knew when the best time to ask him questions or strike up a conversation based on the intensity of his expression.

From Myra's perspective, the intent of his routine was working. Every day she spent with Bane made her feel a sense of belonging she hadn't felt in a long time, if ever. She didn't feel a belonging to his cause; to be honest, she asked very little questions about it which she knew was foolish and ignorant. It was Bane himself that was instilling this feeling of contentedness, belonging, and being where she was supposed to be. When she had these feelings, she would eventually remember where she was; in the sewers underground, technically being held hostage by a terrorist. Myra usually forgot about this technicality when she was around Bane. Although he continued to maintain a stern presence around her, she couldn't help but notice the increased sense of patience, protectiveness, and gentler looks he now gifted her which she knew were nothing but sincere. It gave her goosebumps. It made her realize there was more to him than what she initially perceived him to be. He was someone with immense depth and emotion. She also felt that he truly cared for her wellbeing, despite the situation. She also felt that he trusted her more than she would have expected someone in his position to, considering she was still technically a 'hostage'. For instance, Bane gave her some improved shaving and cleaning tools for the shower. After she dropped it off, she eyeballed the razor that was presumably given to her so she could shave if she so-chose. What he was silently communicating to her, however, was that he trusted her.

In terms of intimacy between the two, Bane knew Myra was shy which alluded to the fact that she didn't like public displays of affection, particularly if the audience was a handful of mercenaries. For this reason, Bane didn't treat her much differently than he had weeks before to the casual observer. He also didn't want to create an abundance of confusion among his men in terms of her role as a hostage, though it was obvious that she had superseded that role into something else. This was particularly obvious when Bane, without seeking verbal permission from Myra because it was assumed, immediately joined her in her sleeping space henceforth following their initial tryst. It was difficult to determine who enjoyed the simple nicety of sleeping with someone more. Considering the standard size of the cot and the non-standard size of Bane in addition to Myra, Myra would describe the new situation as 'cozy'. She had no real complaints, though, even when Bane meandered into the room in the late-hours with visible exhaustion and did nothing more than bodily shove himself next to her before quickly transitioning into a state of slumber, sometimes without so much as a word of greeting to her. It also became a nuisance when there were sudden and frequent taps at the door for Bane's time and attention, which he responded to quickly by getting up and exiting without a word to her. At first it was difficult for Myra to adjust to the sudden intrusion at night and get to sleep, particularly due to the loud mechanical wheezing generated from his mask. Eventually, though, she got used to it and soon she associated it with nighttime ambient sound that quickly put her to sleep. She also found her fingers idly moving up to his mask, tracing and touching the contraption with delicate awe as if she were exposed to a rare beauty like the inside of a lion's mouth, one breath away from snapping down and consuming her fingers.

In terms of other activities that became routine, it wasn't difficult to surmise what Myra and Bane were up to based on the growing pile of garbage of destroyed cots. While Bane had initially replaced the cot that they had worn through their first night of coupling, he was now onto the 3rd cot replacement (with some of them being more resilient than others and lasting quite a while before they, too, met their predecessor's fate). Myra was also thankful beyond reason for not being interrupted during these activities by the usual tapping at the door to indicate a matter needed Bane's attention. Myra assumed that anyone approaching the door could surmise what was happening based on the loud, deep animalistic grunts from Bane that reverberated through the room and could undoubtedly be heard from just outside the door. Myra also assumed that any individual behind that door didn't want to test what kind of fury Bane would be in if he were interrupted.

An hour or so after one such cot-ruining activity as Myra lay there on top of Bane, a feeling started to blossom across her body. She was trying to determine what the feeling was, but the closest thing she could come to describing it was the feeling of being 'at home'. She let her eyes wander around the somewhat dingy, small room with unfinished furnishings and bare walls, under the tattered frame of the broken cot, wondering why she was even having a feeling in such an inadequate setting. Bane's hands shifted slightly from around her, adjusting her torso so that it was positioned more comfortably against his chest. His hand then slid down comfortably against her skin in a relaxed desire to keep his hand on her as he let out a tired sigh through his mask. Her mind refocused on him, idly thinking perhaps it was he who was inspiring these feeling as she lay there feeling protected, admired, and adored. She felt connected to Bane on an intimate level, which made her realize that she had an emboldened sense of belonging to him. It also inspired a slew of questions in her mind that she wouldn't have been capable of asking him weeks or even days prior due to fear.

She also contemplated Bane as a man. She understood why he had so many devoted followers; he was strong, imposing, represented confidence and competency. He was a strong speaker, able to instill passion or fear with simply his voice. He was also extremely intelligent, if not a genius. She almost hated herself for getting sucked into his charm and characteristics knowing he was also a mercenary who's killed people, wondering idly how many other women got sucked in to him for similar reasons of attraction. How many other women has he lured down here? How long does he keep them before he gets rid of them?

"How many women have you had?" Myra blurted out suddenly, unfiltered.

Bane shifted his head at her question, turning to look at her with a mild level of surprise on his face. He didn't respond immediately, but instead looked as if he were taking in every feature of her face and memorizing it.

"Why do you ask such a question?" he asked curiously.

Myra responded by shifting and turning her head away with a sigh, stretching her body slightly as if she were fidgeting at being called out for even asking the question, hoping he would respond autonomously without much thought.

"I'm just curious," she said in a pitch that was slightly higher than she had wished.

Bane brought a hand down to stroke the top her head idly, letting his fingers come together to feel the texture of her hair. He continued to stare at her as if she would change her mind at any moment and rescind her question. Myra felt like he was absorbing her thoughts through his fingertips as he stroked her scalp.

"Do I not provide you adequate pleasure?" Bane asked questioningly.

Myra snapped her head back to look at him, eyebrows raised and a look of shock in her eyes.

"No! I mean…yes, you're wonderful. That's not the reason why I'm asking."

Bane caught her in her own web.

"Oh, so there is a reason for your question?" he asked with satisfaction in his voice, catching her in another trap. Too easily for Myra's liking.

Myra's face dropped, her mouth turning into a straight line realizing the trap he caught her in. She let herself squirm again, uncomfortable at being called out and equally uncomfortable at having to explain herself over something like this.

"I just….I want….I just…" Myra was having difficulty forming her words, trying to figure out exactly how to form her question.

"I just….I…..just want to know how many women you have brought back here." Myra turned her head to stare at the pillow as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world.

Bane smiled at her question, his skin creasing at the corners of his eyes indicating the depth of the smile. He continued to stroke her hair, finding humor in her bashfulness as well as her question. The gaze he gifted her indicated he knew fully well her sense of insecurity, fear, and desire to not be discarded. It also indicated that he knew she wasn't one who shared her body or emotions easily, and was perhaps phishing for an indicator of how guarded she should be with her body, mind, and heart. He waited a few moments before he answered her, one of his hands settling on her cheek as he continued to process the magnitude of her question, observing her squirming body language as confirmation that perhaps it was too late for her to think about guarding that heart of hers.

"Including yourself?" Bane inquired, appearing suddenly pensive but with a mild hint of tease.

Myra's body suddenly stilled, her eyes shooting to his in a look of wide-eyed reluctant curiosity. She nodded slowly. Bane waited for her non-verbal confirmation before he leaned his head back to make a show of looking up at the ceiling as if internally counting. After several moments, he leaned his head forward to gaze down at her.

"Just the one. You," he said simply, emphasizing his point by stroking her cheek in a startling show of unabashed affection.

Myra let her eyes wander back to him after he answered her, her mind easing considerably. Her chest started to rise as it transitioned at the notion that she was a 'special case'. "Well, then when was the last time you had a woman?" The squirming again.

Bane let a deep sigh escape through his mask as he tilted his head back to look up at the ceiling once more as if he were digging deep into the recesses of his mind for an answer. He kept his eyes raised up to aid in his recollection, though his hand continued its rhythm against her scalp.

"That's a more difficult question…allow me to think a moment…" Bane said thoughtfully.

Myra's squirming ceased when she realized that Bane's bedding of women was either so infrequent or so long ago that he was having difficulty recollecting. This increased the feeling and confidence she had in her chest of being slightly 'special' and that their situation possibly wasn't just a means for Bane to ease his boredom and simply satisfy his lust with the closest woman available. She let her eyes settle on his face as he continued to search the recesses of his mind.

He finally answered.

"It was probably when we were in Kazakhstan, 3 or 4 years ago. I treated myself and my men to a brothel that we stumbled upon," Bane replied matter-of-factly.

Myra scowled, though her scowl was superficial. She was somewhat relieved to hear that his last sexual encounter was, assumedly, with no strings attached. Bane turned and saw her scowl, sensing that she was judging him for his decision to go to a brothel despite seeing nothing wrong with it from a personal perspective. "Well, when was your last sexual encounter?', he asked.

Myra let her scowl drop and she froze, looking at him. She bit the bottom of her lip in contemplation before answering. "I had a boyfriend a few years ago.". That was all she said, the implications of that relationship hopefully obvious. Bane's response was only a "humph" through his mask, seemingly pacified by her answer. She was relieved when he didn't ask why things didn't work out. She didn't' want to have to relive the awkwardness of finding out that her boyfriend had decided to sleep with another woman while he was traveling abroad without her.

Myra relaxed, settling her head and cheek against his chest with her arms curling under his. She closed her eyes, trying to fight the sleepiness she was feeling from the intense body heat that radiated off of Bane's chest, causing her to become passive and drowsy. She was fighting a losing battle, however, and fell into a deep peaceful sleep as her worries and torment were temporarily forgotten. Bane didn't move; he wanted to make sure she was fully rested and got a proper night's sleep so the dark circles under her eyes would dissolve and the torment plaguing her mind would ebb.

After several weeks of this routine, Bane was forced away to tend to business for several days. Myra's routine, of course, was interrupted due to Bane's absence. It bothered her more than she cared for. She was left idle in her room to read alone, or sit outside the room and watch the sewer water drain down the noisy tunnel. She also started hearing extremely loud construction happening around her, which reverberated through the floor and walls, creating a cacophony of noise paired with the already loud sewer water. She did not care for that noise, so she found herself holed up in her room to block it out. This left her with limited activities to pass the time with which defaulted to reading. She also couldn't help but feel disappointed at night when she was left to sleep alone in the cold dark without the body heat of Bane to keep her naturally warm. She also found herself missing the sound of his voice and the touch of his hands. She even missed the stern look and words he gave her when she wasn't performing well during their self-defense practice.

When he did finally return, he made sure logistically his operation and men were in order (albeit with a mild level of impatience) before he immediately beelined for Myra's room. When Bane entered the room where Myra slept and closed the door behind him, he turned to see Myra jump from her cot and rush towards him with a predatory gleam in her eye. She stalked quickly at him; lust written on her face with a moderate level of fierceness. It startled Bane, who took half a step back from her as she sprang on him. Bane never backed up or shied from anyone; he has never felt the need to, has never felt threatened like someone was on the verge of eating him up. Until now. The look Myra had implied she wanted nothing more than to devour him. It was almost comical for such a large, imposing man startling away from a much smaller, slightly gangly female with noodle arms. He regained his composure immediately as she jumped up at him, wrapping her thighs and legs around his waist to lift herself up off the ground, gripping his shoulders to hoist herself up in case he didn't respond quickly enough to pull her up and support her with his arms. Bane responded quickly, however, by gripping her below on her bottom with a "Hmph" in a show of mild exertion and surprise. "I assume you missed me during my absence?", Bane asked with amusement dripping from his tone.

"Shut up," Myra said, resuming where they left off before he left.

Roughly an hour after Bane's return, Myra lay naked and prone with her chest against Bane's in the wreckage of another failed and broken cot. She was idly tracing her finger along the metal canisters that made up the lower portion of his mask which undoubtedly contained compressed medicine that was dispensed into his lungs to ease his chronic pain. She kept her cheek rested against his collarbone. Her other arm was bent against the side of her body and held onto his bicep loosely. Her toes rubbed against his muscularly defined (but hairy) legs in a mirror of idleness. Bane's eyelids were closed, resting from the combined exertion of very recent sexual activity on top of traveling from the business that forced him away. One of his hands was nestled at her lower back, idly tracing the scar that she bore from her childhood accident. His other hand was placed at the back of her head with his fingers loosely intertwined in her hair.

"I don't want to go," Myra said suddenly.

Bane's eyes snapped open at this, the sleepiness he felt consuming his body before now evaporated. Myra felt Bane's hands tighten reflexively into her scalp at her comment, and the hand that was brushing strokes against her lower back ceasing its activity. She waited for a reply. After seconds, and then a minute or two went by, she knew she wasn't getting one. It made her heart squeeze lightly and her stomach drop at the myriad of implications at this.

Myra removed her hand away from his mask and his bicep, bringing them both to cup under her chin as she processed her own frank confession and trying to decide if she made a mistake by even mentioning it and overthinking their relationship. You could have ruined 'this'…he might not want to touch you anymore, if he thinks you believe there is more to this. Idiot.

Myra's mind started to slowly digress into self-deprecating thoughts, self-doubt and concerns of self-worth. She started feeling foolish. She felt herself having difficulty breathing as she was overcome with emotions that she didn't find very comfortable. She pushed her hands against his chest to lift herself away before she let her emotions get the better of her and start crying. She didn't want him to see her cry.

As she was lifting herself up, Bane's arms encircled her to stop her. "What are you doing?" he asked as if confused, anger on the fringe of his words.

Bane's confusion and hints at anger startled Myra and caused her own confusion. Is he asking me why I'm getting up?...or….why am I making ridiculous statements and ruining 'this'….'this' that we have that doesn't need to be more complicated with me saying things that can't be helped…and implying I want to stay when I know I can't….

Myra, of course, assumed Bane's anger was due to the more complicated reasoning of Myra possibly ruining their situation through fumbling declarations. Myra was looking right at him when her eyes starting to glaze over. When she felt the moisture slam into her eyes, she held in a breath knowing that one simple shift in her body would cause a waterfall.

Bane returned her gaze and saw the moisture spring into her eyes, his eyes softening considerably though his confusion was still apparent. He kept his hold around her firm, however.

"Shhh…..we're not done here," Bane said as he coaxed a rather reluctant Myra back down onto his chest. Myra complied reluctantly, planting her face into his neck, and smothering her nose into it so that he couldn't see her face. He moved his hand to the back of her head to thread his fingers into her hair and gently massage her scalp. His other hand kept a firm pressure against her back so that she would stay tight against him.

"I will come for you after the hostage exchange is over, if that is your wish," Bane finally responded.

Myra brought a hand up to wipe the moisture from her eyes away, turning her head to the side so that the words from her mouth could be understood and not muffled. "You would?" Myra said slowly, softly.

After her response and feeling her body stiffness soften considerably, Bane resumed his idle strokes along her spine, stopping short of her scar at her lower back.

"Yes. Granted, I won't be able to come for you until after you've lost the attention of the Gotham Police who will most certainly have questions for you in regard to your time here. Once the dust settles and you still wish to come back, then I will come for you," Bane said.

Myra held her body still as she listened to him and processed his words. The moisture behind her eyes started to disappear as the darker emotions that had consumed her moments earlier evaporated.

"Yes," Myra said softly.

Bane rested his head back more comfortably against the pillow on the cot, letting his eyes re-settle into a state of rest as his body relaxed. "Good", Bane said simply, though Myra felt that his simple word conveyed a wide array of emotions and feelings that she felt resonate into her, making her feel warm and content and comfortable again. She buried her head further into the skin on his neck, her eyes closing and falling asleep almost as soon as she let out a relaxed breath.

Due to Myra's continued presence, the types of activities that Bane appeared to favor for recreation or entertainment purposes shifted. He still had periodic stints where he would enjoy a round of cards with a few of his men, or share a cup of tea with several others, but it seemed to the casual observer that his favorite leisurely activity was simply being with Myra. It wasn't uncommon to see the two sitting closely together reading a book in each other's quiet company. When they were alone, Myra would plead for Bane to read a passage of the book he was reading, finding great pleasure in the way he spoke and enunciated words from written text. He always obliged her, inviting her into his personal space by wrapping an arm around her and pulling her into his lap as he reclined back in what Myra referred to as his 'reading position'.

The call from Phillip Stryver indicating an agreement by the Gotham Police to exchange two of Bane's men for Myra finally came. Bane and Myra knew it was going to happen; Bane more so than Myra after Stryver assumed leadership of Daggett Industries following Daggett's death as well as Stryver's understandable fear of Bane pushing him to resolve this situation sooner than later. He almost hated him for it.

When Bane told Myra of the news, Myra noted Bane became distant. She thought it was possibly due to distraction. Or something else, Myra thought. The actual exchange was happening the following day. Bane gave Myra a day off from their usual rounds of self-defense or offensive training, which of course rattled Myra further. She slept alone that evening, though internally she rationalized Bane was probably trying to stay focused on the task at hand to ensure that nothing failed or went wrong. I hope he remembers to come for me.

The agreed upon location for the exchange was at the water's edge next to docks. It was open enough to where any visible threats could be located, and the water's edge limited one extra angle of possible snipers the police has to identify. When Bane and his men initially made it to the docks, Bane stood at Myra's back and guided her hands behind her back so that he could bind them with a zip tie. When he did this he leaned forward towards Mya's ear.

"It would be pleasant if you could make a show of screaming, for theatrics," he whispered to her.

Myra smiled and turned her head partially to see his head bent down, focused on the task of binding her wrists. She nodded lightly, agreeing to his request. Bane guided and handed her off to another man, but not before he gave her an affectionate but invisible squeeze on her arm.

Myra observed Bane whisper and issue orders to the man, who she didn't immediately recognize but it soon dawned on her that it was one of her original sparring partners. He was the one that Bane used to instill fear into her, to try and drive her into proper self-defense. Her stomach dropped as he took hold of her somewhat roughly, him eying her again like a piece of meat that had jilted and deprived him. Bane's whispered command to the man was simply, "She'll scream". However, those words were interpreted much differently by the man as evidence by what ensued.

Bane nodded to the man who had control of her, indicating for him to lead her forward and wait for the Gotham Police to reciprocate and bring forth his two men that were captured. Bane didn't see any indication from the other side that they were ready or willing to engage in the hostage exchange, and knew theatrics involving Myra screaming would expedite the situation.

The man dragged Myra away from Bane and his men, stopping halfway between the two groups; one group being Bane and his men, the other the Gotham police and the accompanying emergency response personnel. He forced her to her knees rather roughly, causing her to react by twisting her head to grimace at him and verbally protest. However, as soon as she was kneeling and her face turned towards him, he backhanded her in the face with considerable force, taking her by complete surprise.

"You need to look riper for them," he spat in a hushed tone.

He grabbed her by the front of her shirt to shake her and hold her still before winding an arm and driving it forward, punching her in the jaw. With her hands tied behind her back, she was unable to prevent her body from falling forward. Her face made contact with the gravel ground, her cheek sliding and catching on the uneven and harsh rocky surface. She was too shocked to even make a noise of protest, her mind screaming at the combined pain of the brunt force of his strike and the excruciating road rash. His hand darted out to to grab her by her shirt collar, dragging her back up with half of her face a red streaked smear combined with blood and pebbles.

He brought his face closer to hers. He let his mouth get even closer.

"Why don't you scream for me?" he said.

She felt his lips graze her bottom lip aggressively, the tip of his tongue dart out to touch her cheek before giving her another shake leading her to lurch forward. Myra cried out in disgust, but held herself back from screaming. She watched out of the corner of her eye as a string of blood eased from her mouth, stretch in a red line, and finally fall to the ground.

Myra turned her head away from Bane, her worst fears materializing from the deepest recesses of her mind. Tears clouded her vision. She knew he was watching, maybe even gave the order for this to be done to her. And he wasn't stopping it. Why aren't you stopping this, she thought. During the manhandling, her hair fell forward to cover half of her face. He wouldn't have ordered this or allowed this if he intended on coming back for me, she thought. Complete and utter embarrassment, abandonment, betrayal, and disappointment overtook her upon her realization. She felt used, discarded. Manipulated. But I didn't ever feel like I was manipulated…She thought. Idiot. Just because you didn't 'feel' it, doesn't mean you weren't.

Myra was startled at the physical sensation of her heart literally dropping to her stomach like a pit, shattering. She didn't want him to see the the tears in her eyes, the blood on her lips, the bruising in and around her eye in case that was his intent all along. In case it brought him satisfaction. I'm the reason those policemen died…they were only trying to help me…why did I do that...Her insecurities resurfaced at an exponential rate. She wanted to vomit. Maybe he is a monster and he manipulated me into having sex with him and….l. She let herself sink further down onto her knees in defeat, closing her eyes, letting the tears stream down her cheek freely. She didn't want to turn and see his face saying, "Foolish girl to think the thoughts you did. What did you think this was?" Embarrassment and a sense of complete loss and failure continued to grip her chest. A pit, a wide chasm. Sucking her dry, making it difficult to catch her breath. To think. To breath. She felt herself starting to hyperventilate. She tried to focus and will herself into calmer breaths, forcing her eyes shut tightly.

Bane was, for the moment, a model of self-control but Barsard could physically witness the strain Bane was undergoing at not stomping towards her and correcting the situation, knowing if he did then the hostage exchange would fail. Bane mentally willed Myra to turn and look at him, to let his eyes comfort her and tell her that he was angry and there would be suffering for what was being done to her. When she didn't turn to look at him, but instead slumped down as if in agonized defeat, her head very pointedly turned away from him, he took a step forward, ready to plow the man holding Myra. Barsad was waiting for this moment and took a half step in front of Bane to physically block him, giving him a look in hopes that it would allow Bane to regain his focus of the task at hand. Bane's fury was refocused on Barsad in front of him. Barsad could stop Bane no more than a fly could stop a raging bull. However, his actions did distract Bane for the half a second it required him to regain focus and concentrate on the task at hand. Bane's fists continued to clench and unclench, aching to break a neck. Barsad simply stared back at him with his signature lazy stare as if he wished he were anywhere else but right here, right now.

Observing a hostage being abused most certainly incited haste from the Gotham Police, who removed the two captured men of Bane's from the back of a truck and rushed them forward towards the meeting point at the center. Bane's captured men were uncuffed quickly, where they proceeded to reunite with Bane and his men. Myra simply stayed kneeling on the ground, her head lurched forward either in pain or from emotional distress. The police officers that brought both of Bane's men over moved over to her and hauled her up onto her feet carefully before retreating back towards the Gotham Police and the emergency responders.

Bane watched as Myra was escorted by two police officers back to safety, a nurse rushing forward to wrap a blanket around her shoulders and cup her face in her hands to examine and treat her facial wounds and check for fractures. Bane could make out Myra's shoulders beginning to shake before she fell forward to her knees, sobs racking her body. The nurse that was seeing to her as well as the police officers at her side quickly bent down to comfort her, the nurse offering her a comforting shoulder to cry on and gently rubbing her back. Bane turned away, stepping towards the spot where Myra was held and beaten. He looked down at the ground and saw fresh droplets of blood. His fists clenched, his nails digging into his flesh as he looked down at the fresh evidence of blood. To say he was furious would be a severe understatement.

Bane and his men walked away with the hostage exchange fully concluded. Once they were around the corner, Bane turned towards the man that handled Myra, clenching and unclenching his fists as he sauntered towards him. He saw Bane approaching him. The man lifted his hands as if exasperated. "Sorry, boss, she didn't end up being a screamer…" Before anyone could react, Bane was unleashing all hell onto the man in the form of repeated strikes and punches. The man had no chance to respond or even react before he was on the ground, being knocked out from the very first strike to the head. Barsad had stopped to observe from the side with a look of bored expectation, knowing what was going to happen to the man as soon as he mistakenly delivered his first blow to Myra's face. Bane didn't stop. He kept at it until all that was left of his head was a collapsed shell oozing brain matter, bone, and blood. After he was done, Bane let out a breath that sounded like a raging bull, standing up and pacing as if waiting, willing for someone to challenge him.

One of the exchanged hostages asked hesitantly to a comrade, "What's the matter?". Before anyone could silence him, Bane was on him like the rising sun. Bane simply grabbed his throat and crunched it like he was condensing a can for recycling and dropped his lifeless body to the floor with the other corpse. Everyone was silent and motionless, particularly the lone surviving hostage, potentially fearing responsible for the source of his anger. Bane looked around at his men, offering one last sweeping invitation for another challenge before he turned around and stomped off back to the direction of their base. Confusion and concern mingled in everyone's expressions as they watched Bane's retreating back before they followed him.

Author: I hope you liked it! Please review! Every review matters :0 It lets me know people are reading it! Let me know what you'd like to see, or if you have suggestions - ANYTHING!