Chapter Four: Listen and Observe
Downstairs, Howard laid awake and stared at the ceiling for hours. His sleepless mind made him revisit the memories of Ras al Ghul, who he knew as Sebastian Listonstiger, when he came to him with news of the near-simultaneous death of Sienna and birth of the at that point unnamed infant girl.
Howard and his wife Sylvia had been trying for years to conceive and were considering adoption. Ras knew he couldn't keep the baby and that Howard and Sylvia had been destined to be her parents. Ras shed genuine tears for Sienna and the regret of not being able to raise the infant girl. He wanted the baby to know nothing of her conception and introduction to the world.
Sylvia was over the moon and had given her whole heart to the baby girl the moment she held her in her soft arms.
Howard had tried to decline Ras's overly generous offers for monthly payments and assistance wherever else he could be of help, all behind the scenes.
Ras would not be deterred, and Howard ended up just saying thank you and using the monthly money to ensure the baby girl grew into the woman she currently was. Sleep eventually found Howard as he remembered Ras only asking if he could name the baby.
Howard nodded at the name Helena. He remembered asking why.
"Why that name Sebastian?" Howard whispered to the dark as he closed his eyes.
"Because of her mother, she invaded my very heart and soul, part of me died with her and I know she is waiting for me."
As sleep consumed Howard, down the hall, Chris and Ryan crashed in front of a wide tv with game day replays in matching recliners. Both men dozed, each thankful to not have been left behind in Gotham to die like so many of Talia's loyal followers.
As the two men cheered for highlights of their teams of choice, in the spacious family room, Talia reclined on the sectional sofa. She pulled an afghan from the back of the couch over herself and frowned into the dark.
Her anger was still charged despite how much she had tried to water board it with alcohol.
Talia ran her palm over the smooth surface of the imported Italian linen and scoffed.
"Why does she get to live in such luxury? She hasn't earned anything, broken herself in service to another, never bent the knee in fealty," she thought and rolled onto her back and stared into the dark until the alcohol finally put her nervous system down and she succumbed to sleep.
While everyone else downstairs slept, Barsad was in the kitchen picking through the leftovers that Helena had put into various glass storage containers. As he dipped a corner of bread into some gravy, upstairs Bane settled onto a tacky purple sofa in the office/library/storage room and tilted his head to the left and right, stretching the tense muscles of his neck and shoulders. He stared at the wall, wishing he could see through to what Helena was doing behind her closed bedroom door.
He looked around the semi-cluttered room, the Ivory Tower's Room of Shame. His eyes fell on a half-empty bottle of Irish Cream on the desk and frowned. Seeing the alcohol made him think of the tabloid headlines of the billionaire Bruce Wayne out on the town with Miranda Tate. One image Bane couldn't shake was of Miranda and Bruce at a home game on the fifty-yard line.
He still felt a wave of disappointment rush through him as Bruce and Miranda were captured on the kiss cam and she let that pitiful excuse for a man shove his privileged tongue down her throat and practically grope her on national tv.
Bane despised the heady scent of Wayne's cologne that clung to Talia's skin after she returned from an evening out as Miranda Tate.
He eventually fell into a light doze as down the hall, Helena struggled to log double digit minutes of sleep.
Helena sat up and switched on her tv. She kept the volume low and tried to calm herself with some deep breathing and then a few yoga moves. She stood and fought a frustrated sob before deciding that sleep was not going to happen, and she was instead going to soak in the tub.
Back down the hall, Bane stirred when he heard the sound of the bathwater being cranked on full blast. He drifted back to a light sleep as Helena soaked under a layer of lightly scented opalescent bubbles.
Hours passed as the moon finished its pass through the night sky and gave birth to the dawn. Bane stirred awake as the early morning sunlight filtered in through the window.
He stretched deeply, his joints cracking in protest at his uncomfortable sleeping on the sofa. He stood outside Helena's bedroom door and listened for any sounds before knocking.
He strained his ears and heard the morning weather report anchor wishing everyone a happy Monday morning before he lightly knocked.
He raised his hand to knock again when Helena's face appeared in the small space she allowed the door to open.
Bane felt his well memorized script fall away and he ended up just staring at her, his expression unreadable.
"I'm guessing this is the breakfast call?" she asked.
Bane saw the redness and residual puffiness from her on and off crying and couldn't think of any words to offer. Instead he nodded stiffly and stepped back so she could walk past him, down the stairs and to the kitchen that was growing brighter and brighter with the rising run.
His eyes tried to move everywhere at once over her. She had soaked for hours and he was practically drowned in the light rosewater scent that trailed behind her. She had slipped on a heather grey cashmere sweater that smoothed over her body; the subtle vee neck enhanced her lithe curves. Her worn jeans drew his attention and he was lucky to not stumble as his eyes gravitated to the curve of her bottom under the dark blue denim.
Bane settled at the kitchen island and watched Helena misdirect her stress into roughly chopping chives, aggressively whipping egg whites, and coarsely grinding black peppercorns and Himalayan pink sea salt over cheese hemorrhaging omelets.
He watched her scoop dark grounds of coffee into a brown organic filter and fill her cup as soon as there was enough to gulp in the carafe.
Bane kept thinking of things to say, to ask and stopped short of speaking each time, unsure of how she would perceive his questions. He didn't want to elicit defensiveness or invoke further fear within her.
He wished he knew what she was feeling at that very moment.
Talia appeared almost out of thin air as Helena was spooning a couple tablespoons of sugar over some unevenly chopped strawberries.
Talia looked like she had been through hell. She hadn't bothered to even brush her hair and instead made a beeline to the granite island and took Helena's half-empty coffee cup.
Helena arched an eyebrow but didn't say anything as Talia took fast sips off the ceramic mug.
"What's for breakfast?" she finally croaked.
"Omelets and some potatoes," Helena said and filled a new cup for herself.
Talia cleared her throat and gestured towards Bane.
"I need to speak to you privately."
Bane nodded and rose without hesitation, he followed Talia down a long hallway to a narrow laundry room. Talia closed the door and rubbed her eyes before she spoke.
"I spent some time in Howard's office looking for the safety deposit key and banking credentials. It's either hidden somewhere else or there is a safe that it's in. I need them alive for now to withdraw money, liquidate the stock accounts but Howard wouldn't tell me anything."
"What would you like me to do?"
"For now, just listen and observe. I'm going to discuss the financials again at the table and I want you to gauge her for the veracity of her truth telling."
Bane nodded. He kept his pleasure at being ordered to keep his eyes on Helena to himself as he followed Talia from the laundry room and back to the kitchen where he began to salivate with the delicious aromas in the air and the tantalizing view of the line of Helena's neck that was exposed from her low messy bun.
Bane took his seat as Helena bustled around and passed everyone a full plate. He watched her return to the cupboard to the right of the built-in microwave and put some pills from a multi-colored medication tray into a small cup.
Helena set the medication next to Howard's plate and laid her hand on his shoulder before taking a seat and sipping her cooling coffee.
For a while, the only sounds were eating and drinking. After the plates were empty, Talia send Barsad, Chris and Ryan out for various tasks. After the men dispersed, Talia watched Helena clear and wipe down the table before she started to speak.
"Where does a whore hide the key to a safety deposit box?"
"Quit calling her that," Howard barked.
"Shut your mouth, you are not a warrior and have no voice here," Talia snapped before she continued to address Helena.
"It'd be easiest if you got in the car and we drive down to the bank, I'll make sure you have enough money to live more comfortably than a whore's daughter deserves."
Bane watched Helena, studying her profile, wanting to interrogate her until he knew everything about her.
He was in love with her by the time Talia slapped the table and made Howard and Helena flinch.
"My equitable and nonviolent offer isn't on the table much longer. Are you going to get in the car and drive to the bank like a good little trollop?"
"It's a holiday today, the bank is closed," Helena finally muttered and watched Talia flush with anger at her simple calendar oversight.
"Fuck," Talia shouted and jumped to her feet and fought a wave of nausea as her sour stomach protested the acidic coffee and full belly of food.
Talia shouted for Chris who came running like an obedient dog and shuttled Howard off at her command.
She squeezed the bridge of her nose. "I don't have the energy for this," she groaned. "Don't let her out of your sight," Talia directed at Bane. She paused before she stomped out of the room and spoke as she looked back over her shoulder once she caught Bane's eyes and spoke in their shared foreign tongue.
All Helena heard was the aggressive sounding language but didn't know what Talia had said.
"Make her talk and get me answers, you just need to keep her alive for now."
Talia returned to the guest bedroom at the end of the hall and laid down as her hangover headache made her close her eyes and groan.
As she napped, back in the kitchen Bane watched Helena plunge her hands into the lemony sudsy water as she washed the breakfast plates and utensils.
"I know you were lying when she asked you about the safety deposit key," he said to her back and watched her shoulders tense before she answered.
"Okay," she finally said and continued to rinse and load the dishwasher.
"I know almost everything you said was untrue," he said when she kept her back to him.
"I heard you the first time. I offered you money and you said it wasn't about money."
"It's not," he reaffirmed as she let the sink drain.
"So, what do you want then?" she asked in an exasperated tone and turned towards him where he remained sitting at the table.
"What?!" she repeated and dropped the damp dishtowel she'd been holding.
Bane slowed his breathing and stilled his mind. "How do I even begin to answer that?" he asked himself.
Bane made himself casually stand and take a measured breath.
"This is the only woman you'll ever love, don't mess this up," his mind warned.
"Are you done cleaning up here?" he asked mildly.
Helena nodded and slid down the length of the counter as he approached her.
He paused, understanding but still not liking her fear that only grew as he drew closer.
"You need to head upstairs."
"Can I stop and get a few things out of the upstairs desk first?"
Bane nodded and she concentrated on each step as she proceeded up the stairs.
He watched Helena randomly run her fingertips over the spines of her book collection. "You don't have to stay in your room," he said to her back.
"What else would I do?" she asked without turning around.
"You could sit outside."
"With you?"
"Yes, I'd be nearby."
"My room is fine."
Bane clenched his teeth until his jaw popped. "How do I tell her what I want?" he asked himself.
His irritation at her refusal to turn around when she spoke to him made him act like a juvenile when he spoke to her. "Do you think your bedroom grants you privacy?"
He smiled and felt triumphant as her shoulders tensed. She turned around and his victory turned hollow at the fear in her face as she met his gaze. Bane instantly regretted his tone but didn't want to recant his words and reveal any cracks in his façade.
Helena cleared her throat nervously, "what's the end game here?"
"Honestly?"
Helena nodded.
"I'm not entirely sure," he admitted before he added. "I know a lot depends on you and your father and the financial details she wants you to provide."
Helena felt her breath catch as he closed the door behind him and was certain her heart was going to actually beat out of her chest as he held her wide-eyed gaze and locked the door.
"You know I can't tell her anything," Helena started before her words broke and she felt her remaining energy evaporate as she sank onto the sofa and added in a near-incoherent mumble. "You have to know I can't give that woman anything."
"That woman is your sister?"
"Half-sister," she spit tersely.
"Why the hatred?"
"How could there be anything else?" Helena scoffed and slid back on the sofa as he leaned against an oak bookcase. His silence invited her to continue.
"I just learned my parents aren't my parents and my half-sister is a terrorist and is trying to extort the man I consider my father. I don't know anything about Talia's father, my apparent biological father."
"He was a warrior, a solider, a man of honor," Bane murmured.
Helena nodded and stared at the carpet between her feet, realizing it had been way too long since she'd shampooed the rugs before she whispered raggedly. "You have to know I can't give her anything."
"Can you give her enough that she'll move on?"
"She'll never leave us alone; it'll never be enough money, property, deeds."
Bane wanted to assure her that couldn't be true, but he couldn't be sure. Helena didn't need him to speak as she continued. "If I give her any kind of opening at all, she'll have the house and property under her name within the week."
Bane felt his negotiating tactics wane and he shifted on his feet and leaned back against the door as he tried to maintain a neutral façade while inside his thoughts were roiling.
"You understand that I still need you to provide whatever information is needed because I'm performing a job?"
"Are you not listening to me?" she asked and wiped at her eyes, smearing her eye makeup.
"I am listening to you," Bane said gravelly as he moved away from the door and rose to his full height as he added.
"Everything you're saying is valid, but I am still going to need to you to provide what is needed by Talia."
Helena shook her head and didn't have words until he moved in her direction. She leapt to her feet which made him pause.
"Go back and sit down," he demanded and any reflexive desire for a rebuttal died before it was born, and she sank back onto the plum colored sofa as he settled in the mismatched burgundy chair across from her.
"I don't understand Talia's sudden descent on our house, her outrageous demands," Helena said as she shook her head.
"She is angry that her father proved to be human, a man driven by his basal wan… needs," he corrected.
"And that's my fault?"
Her question was surely rhetorical.
"You're in front of her and her father is in the ground, you're a place for her rage."
"And what are you?"
"The instrument of her rage."
"Is that why you locked the door and are sitting there now?"
"More or less."
"What's the 'more'?"
"Tell me the needed information and we won't need to have a possible hostile interaction."
"and the 'less'?"
"Same answer?"
"Just like that?" she asked on a smirk as she snapped her fingers.
Bane nodded.
"What did she say to you downstairs?" Helena whispered, not trusting her voice to speak any louder.
Her imagination soared at the multiple translations in the space of his silence.
"She essentially told me to obtain the banking information and secure your cooperation," he said evenly.
"What exactly does that mean?" she asked, proud that her voice didn't break.
"It's my discretion but your words and actions will certainly influence any outcome," he said and stared at her until she squirmed uncomfortably on the gaudy sofa.
"You know I can't tell you anything," she murmured.
"That's a perfect example of how your words can influence the situation," he growled.
Helena tried to slow her breathing before she spoke. "I don't know what you can possibly expect," she stammered.
"May I join you on the sofa?" he asked, abruptly changing the climate of the conversation.
"Why?" she asked quickly, her tension going straight to Def Con One.
"I'd like to talk to you more, get to know you," he said carefully as he slowly stood.
Helena licked her lips, "why do you want to know more about me? What purpose would it serve?" she asked nervously.
"Helena?" he asked softly, noticing that she blinked when he said her name. "May I sit?" he asked and closed the distance between himself and the sofa.
Helena nodded as he settled on the last cushion of the sofa, keeping a whole purple square in between them.
She leaned back and crossed her legs, picking invisible pieces of lint from her denim clad knee. She stopped plucking at the air above her knee and looked up at Bane. "Well?" she said. "What purpose does this serve?"
As she asked the question, she gestured at the air around them.
Bane captured her eyes before he spoke. "I think you're a beautiful and intelligent woman. Last night, I read through a lot of your notebooks and some of your lecture notes that you are working on," he started and reached out with lightning fast speed and captured her bare-fingered left hand.
He continued in a low, rapid tone as he urgently squeezed her hand. "After reading them, I, more than anything wanted to spend time with you, talk to you."
Helena felt varying waves of feelings wash over her. Her notebooks were private, and she was embarrassed at what he might've read. Her lecture notes were unfinished thoughts and not something she usually shared.
She flushed at having such an intimate conversation about the thoughts and feelings she had poured into her notebooks about love, lust, and infinite reasons to distrust people.
She brought her eyes back to his when he closed his other hand around hers as he spoke heavily charged words.
"I don't know how much trust you have left inside you, but maybe you can see if I could earn the trust that remains?"
Helena tried to pull her hand back, but he only tightened his grip.
"Talk to me," he demanded.
"I'm honestly surprised, you participated in the destruction of Gotham City, are with that woman and her other little cohorts. It now seems we can't leave; Talia has offered only threats and gave you supposed marching orders and yet you're not acting like a captor."
Helena lost her patience with his silence and neutral expression as she continued. "Is this some sort of pick-up technique, you feign interest, get close and then what? Is this something you have set-up with my half-sister?"
"No, it is not a line or a pick-up technique as you call it. I am not unaware of pick-up lines, but I do not favor them. I simply wanted to sit down and spend time with you. I see in you something that I don't see in very many women. It has nothing to do with your half-sister," Bane said without any emotion to his voice to give away what he was thinking.
"What do you see in me?" Helena asked with a great amount of hesitation.
"I see a woman who is lonely yet accomplished, a woman that has been hurt and now treads very lightly, if she treads at all."
Helena hated that she heard truth in his words and wished she had a glass in her hands to occupy her attention.
"Come closer," he murmured and patted the empty cushion between them.
Helena shook her head, "I'm okay here."
"You'll be okay here too and I'm not asking," he said easily, just the sudden surge of heat in his eyes reminding her of his strength and the futility of actually attempting to stop him from doing anything.
She stiffened when he tugged on her hand but eventually slid across the cushion until she was closer to him but still further than he'd like.
"Sit next to me properly or you can sit on my lap," he growled, and she quickly slid closer until the outside of their thighs touched.
Helena cleared her throat as she felt overwhelmed with his warm, masculine scent. "I guess a lot of what you said is true. I'm pretty cautious," she said as he dropped his arm around her shoulders. She felt the tensile strength as his arm fell around her and squeezed her tighter against his side.
"Would you let down your guard and let me get to know you?" he asked.
"To what end?"
"For me to show you that I can offer you everything you need."
Bane relaxed his hold on her, giving her just enough room to look up at him.
"What can you offer me?" she asked hesitantly.
"I can offer you companionship, safety, protection, conversation and if you want, affection," Bane said as he trailed off trying to gauge Helena's reaction.
She mentally dissected each of his words one at a time, asking herself what each word meant to her. The two words that offered the most conflicting views were protection and affection.
His dark eyes locked onto hers as she considered her words. He offered her protection and she was certain that he could enforce his words. Under the heat of his gaze she imagined what his definition of affection included and felt a slow blush creep across her face, she uttered a silent prayer to any god that was listening that he wouldn't comment on her rosy glow.
When she finally spoke, she wasn't sure exactly what she was going to say, until the words started tumbling out of her mouth.
"How would you offer me all of that?" she started slowly. "Specifically, how would you offer me protection or even affection?"
Helena was going to not mention affection at all but part of her wanted to want to hear what he had to say.
"I've never had costly needs and have amassed what some would call a small fortune from the work I've been completing for decades. You will be safe with me; you won't have to worry about anyone hurting you ever again."
Helena believed him when he said that. "And affection?",
"What does affection mean to you?" Bane countered.
Helena surprised them both with a harsh laugh. "I have no fucking idea what anything even means anymore," as she tried to move away from her and stand.
"Don't turn your back on me," Bane growled and felt his anger spike as he grabbed her upper arm and yanked her back against him.
She yelped in surprise as he caught her wrists and swallowed her in his formidable embrace.
"What do you want from me?!" Helena shouted and made a futile effort to get out of his arms.
"I want to know what you need, what you need to feel loved," he murmured.
Helena felt her breath catch in her chest but knew he wouldn't release her without a response.
"I don't know what I need," she finally said as she shook her head and renewed her struggling.
"Don't run away from me," Bane growled and shifted his hands, handling her roughly than he intended.
He heard her try to suppress a pained gasp and softened his tone and touch. "Please," he practically begged and smoothed her tangled hair away from her face.
Bane searched her wide, frightened eyes, looking for any flicker of hope to cling to in her eyes.
At the exact same moment that Helena parted her lips to speak, as though the planets aligned themselves cosmically for just that moment, downstairs while Ryan played with a free sugar-stomping app, one of Howard's blocked coronary arteries decided to announce its faulty presence loudly.
Ryan dropped his phone as Howard gave a low grunt, grabbed his arm, and fell forward to the plush carpeted floor.
Ryan shouted out for Chris, Talia, and anyone else listening.
Talia and Chris rushed into the room where Ryan had rolled Howard to his back but otherwise was completely useless.
Upstairs, Bane lessened his hold when Talia's shouts came up the stairs and Helena was able to clumsily slip out of his grasp.
Helena shook off Bane's reaching hands and he was soon right at her heels as she tore down the hall and staircase.
She fought a scream when her eyes fell on Howard's ashen face. "What did you do to him?" Helena screeched and dropped to Howard's side and fumbled for his pulse.
"Why are you just standing there, call 9-1-1," she said struggling to find a pulse over her own thudding heartbeat.
Talia shook her head at Helena's sobbing. She directed her words between Chris and Ryan. "Put him in the car."
"Stop, what are you doing?!" Helena shouted and pulled at Chris's arms.
"Stop your hysterics," Talia said loudly. "It'll be faster for us to take him in the car. I'm sure a lot of extra manpower has been needed in …. Gotham after its little… accident," she added with a smirk.
Bane wanted to intervene somehow, he knew Talia was not being benevolent and taking Howard anywhere to receive medical help.
He also knew if he uttered a sound that Talia would slit Helena's throat without a second thought.
He followed Helena as she followed Chris and Ryan carrying Howard. Everyone was following Talia as she led the way to Howard's sedan in the driveway.
Talia turned around and held up her hand as Helena tried to climb in the backseat with Chris and Howard as Ryan slipped behind the wheel.
"You're staying here, I can't risk you opening your whore mouth," Talia said coldly.
"You can't keep me away, he's my father," Helena spit at Talia.
Bane suppressed a flinch as Talia's hand was suddenly in the air, her palm smacked loudly as it came into contact with Helena's face.
Helena staggered back and would've fallen had Bane not semi-caught her. He struggled to keep his expression as he yanked Helena upwards roughly and deliberately made his movements aggressive with the weight of Talia's eyes on him.
"Please," Helena cried weakly as Talia slid onto the passenger seat.
Bane's last and final straw was the moment that Talia looked over and smiled at Helena and transformed into Miranda Tate in front of his eyes. He watched her lips curve into smugness and heard her pour her generous philanthropy into her Miranda voice, akin to delivering pleas for money with a side of fifteen thousand-dollar plates of lobster.
"Please excuse me, I've got to get my uncle to the hospital."
Bane kept his fire inside as Talia raised her eyes to his. Her ego was so engorged she couldn't see the inferno that Bane had become.
Talia spoke in their shared tongue.
"Keep her away from the phone, computer. We're going to take the old man for a drive and ask him a few questions, I doubt we'll get much, he looks bad." Talia glanced down at her diamond-encrusted Miranda Tate watch before she continued in their shared language. "I'll be back at 2 and I want answers to every pin number and account password," she murmured and tapped the glass watch face with her Miranda Tate gel-manicured index fingernail.
Bane wordlessly nodded and watched the sedan leave the long driveway.
He felt Helena sag in his arms as the fight left her as soon as it had arrived. He knew if he let go of her that she would fall to the gravel ground.
"It's now time to sit down and talk," he said and shifted Helena until he could lift her in his arms bridal style and carry her back into the house.