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Scutum, Or unexpected reactions of a troubled heart.

In which nothing is as it seems at first.

Part 3

The Shock

Her gums hurt. Itched like teeth were about to fall out or maybe new ones bud. She drank plenty of water but could barely eat anything.

Nasty, nasty cold.

And she ran out of tissues. Wet ones were finished first, her most precious resource wasted on what turned out to be only the beginning of her drudgery. Three packs of regular were out in a blink, and now she was reduced to wiping her nose with toilet paper. Chamomile scent was pleasant, but it was way too coarse for her abused nose. She had blisters.

Clerk at the clinic barely understood her over the phone with how hoarse she sounded. That, or her Norwegian was worse than she was led to believe. Somehow she secured an appointment with a physician. In the end.

There was no way she could drive with sinuses aching so much her eyes watered from the light. She resigned to the only option left.

'I need help getting to town. Can you come over?'

She sent the email before her mind changed. Well, she was only going to ask a favour. As a friend.

Their last talk still sat bitter in her memory, a reminder that he had his reasons, valid feelings she forgot to take into consideration. So what he didn't know better. If he wanted specifically her, why was she even thinking of pushing him into arms of other women?

It was for the best, she told herself. To spare them both the disappointment of betrayal later on, when the excitement dies down and routine starts crumbling on the edges of their understanding. Maybe Bane would find her insufficient or disgusting in normal, daily life. Maybe she would bore him.

Maybe he would be too dull for her?

Maybe, just maybe, the memory she had of him would be too much of a challenge and even Bane himself won't be enough to satisfy her anymore?

She moaned, frustrated, and punched on the mattress beneath. She couldn't even keep away for more than two days. Who was she kidding? She wanted him, every way she could have him.

Still, there was a part of her that wanted him to be happy too, and that stupid chunk of her heart that wasn't egoistic whispered that maybe he could be happier with someone whole. Untainted by knowledge of who he was before.

But it did sting when he finished his angry tirade with that impersonal 'goodbye, neighbour.' Fuck, did it feel wrong. She was so much more to him.

Was this how he felt when she called him 'pal' and 'friend'? Would it really be so difficult to try and bind his face to Tony she knew from hours of conversations over emails?

Shadows of clouds darkened the ceiling. Even that was too much for her sore eyes.

Hearing sharpened with loss of distractions from sense of sight she picked up steady marching on the pathway. Hurried marching. Eager? Worried? She counted seconds, imagining him on flat steps up, then turning slightly to slide to the entryway without rubbing his shoulders on coarse rock.

A knock.

Oh for the love of… Didn't she explicitly tell him to stop with that nonsense? Fucker didn't know where to stop.

"Come in!" She croaked out.

The door opened tentatively.

"Mrs Wolf?"

That wasn't Bane. She sat up abruptly. Went into a coughing fit that probably sounded like she was about to spit out her lungs.

"Who are you?" she wheezed out eventually. "I was actually waiting for a friend to pick me up, I don't have much time before my visit at the doctors."

"I see. My name is Brown. I'm with Homeland Security." ID flashed briefly, but she didn't need to see it anyway. Even if he really was with the organization.

Helena scoffed.

"Homeland," she practically spat. "Wouldn't it be easier to understand if you said you're with US Government?"

"Perhaps," the man smiled. After all she didn't have any problems with discerning who he was representing. "I was wondering if we could have a talk. When you get better, of course."

"Concerning what?" Helena asked, already knowing the answer.

"Bane."

What else?

"Why would you want to talk with me about a dead man?"

"Missing man," he corrected.

"Why would you want to talk with me about a missing man then?" She asked again, not really caring about the answer.

Would Bane notice a stranger and keep to his cottage? She hoped so. Desperately.

"I think you are a person he might want to contact."

"He didn't through last ten years. I'll let you know if he changes his mind. Leave a card on the stairs please." The dismissal was plain to see.

The man smiled up at her. Didn't move an inch.

"Helena."

Oh no. Bane.

He came through the terrace. Thick scarf peeked out from navy blue jacket, fluffy and green like moss. He had jeans secured in brown chukkas, messenger bag hanging off one shoulder. The very picture of an academic. No one would believe it was the same man who terrorized Gotham just three months prior.

She barely remembered about it herself when he wobbled carefully closer, the pain of every step visible in rigid way he held himself.

"We should go soon," he said. Nodded at Brown. "Tony Dorrance."

"John Brown."

They didn't shake hands.

Helena had another coughing fit, so she didn't catch any parting words the agent might have had. When she caught her breath, he was gone already.

"Shall we?" Bane asked.

So he heard their conversation.

She slid down the stairs, sat at the bottom step to put on her boots.

"Sorry to bother you, but I'm in no state to drive and I have an appointment at the clinic in half an hour. I need some groceries too, if you don't mind."

"My pleasure."

"He will be back," she observed.

Bane only grunted in agreement.

"Others might come too," she added.

"That's possible."

She stood up to put on coat that Bane gallantly held out for her. Then he wrapped scarf securely around her neck. Calloused fingers stroked her skin with every movement under guise of straightening the fabric.

"You sneaky bastard." Helena smiled.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." He winked.

She wanted to wrap herself in him and stay at home. Lock the door and install blinds, for no one to interrupt an eternity of lying down doing nothing.

Sneeze crept up on her, an unwelcome reminder she was ill.

Touched in the head, too.

oOo

Drive in and back were done in a blink. Before Helena finished at the doctor's, Bane was waiting in the car with groceries put away neatly in linen bags. How did he manage to buy anything this fast was beyond her, but she was too drained to linger on the subject.

She watched pines and other conifers she couldn't name whizz past in a matted green blur. The experience of going somewhere brought back memories, ones she usually had to keep hidden away.

Not anymore.

"Feels so weird to go away with you without a blindfold on," she mused.

"Easy to amend," he said, sliding up her scarf.

"Keep your eyes on the road," she scolded playfully, pulling the fabric back down.

He stopped the car in his usual spot by his cabin.

"I thought you could bring me a bit closer."

"No need."

"I beg to differ."

"It would be best if you slept at my cottage tonight. For security reasons." He kept looking at the road. "Guest bedroom," added after a brief pause. "It's easier than at your place to get to bathroom and kitchen too."

"Okay."

He smiled. He did that surprisingly often for a terrifying mercenary overlord. Former, she remained herself. Ex terrorist.

It was hard not to smile back.

He showed her the room and Helena wasted no time, dropping face down on the bed. As soon as she hit the mattress she dozed off.

When she awoke later it was already dark outside. Her throat was parched, lips dry as sand and chapped. Sinuses still pulsed with throbbing waves of pain.

"Bane?" she tried, but her voice was barely above a whisper. Fantastic.

Sluggishly, she slid out of the bed. Looked down at herself. She had pajamas on. No bra. Fresh pair of panties. Even though she distinctly remembered falling onto the mattress completely dressed right after they came back.

Arrogant bastard, she thought with a smirk. But, he made her comfortable, and it felt nice. To be cared for.

There was a pitcher of water on bedside table. Some pills and a note. Warm long cardigan waited draped over the dresser, along with woollen socks. Of course, he thought of everything.

Now she needed only to find the bathroom.

Shuffling uncertainly she moved towards the door. Certainly there should be a light switch, but she debated if she really needed one. Skylight in the room provided some bluish shimmer from the moon, and she already knew the house from previous visits with Grace and Graham. Unless Bane changed something drastically, she needed only to go down the corridor and find her way to second door down. She could do it without stabbing her eyes out with surge of brightness.

Entrance to her room was ajar, so she slid out noiselessly. Felt almost like back at the monastery, when she tried to sneak away. Memory of Bane carrying her back to the cell warped and she remember only how nice it was to be close to him, surrounded by taut muscles and his earthy scent.

Was this a murmur behind the door on her right?

She stood listening in. That had to be Bane's bedroom. Was he talking with someone? There was no indication that he had computer on, the floor beneath his door as black as the rest of panels. But maybe he was on his phone. He had to have one.

Right when Helena decided to move forward, there was strangled yelp, a sob, and Bane yelled.

"Talia, don't!"

The anguish was heartbreaking, filling air with echo of fear and sorrow.

He was having a nightmare. The realization rooted Helena to the ground. What was she to do? Was it okay to wake him up? Maybe she just had to hug him, to let his subconscious feel he wasn't alone?

Whatever it was, she had to do something. Anything.

Now that she focused on it, his rapid breathing was audible, distinct in its regularity in the overwhelming silence of the house. Not even swooshing of the sea and surging wind could drown it out. He mumbled something, too quiet for her to understand, words unintelligible or in a language she didn't know.

He was hurting. She didn't want him to feel bad anymore, not even as a penance for all lives he took.

Drawing in a deep breath, she wiped her nose one last time and stepped towards his room.

The floor creaked loudly.

In the same second she jumped with fear, as loud bang reverberated through the corridor.

Heart fluttered rapidly in her ribcage, hammering away with a deafening roar in her ears. Before her, at level with her eyes, a blade was fixed in the door. Blackened sides didn't reflect meager light, but silvery edge glistened dully in a long, serrated, lethal line.

Helena gulped down thick saliva pooling in her mouth. Body rigid with fear she listened on.

It was silent, but she caught a squeak of the bed. Then gentle rustle of sheets and a tired sigh. No more panting, no more whispered or shouted pleas. Bane must have heard the crack and he reacted instinctively, neutralizing the danger. Throwing a knife with such force it lodged up to the hilt in thick wood.

If the door wasn't closed it would pin her to the wall.

Okay. That was a reminder she needed. He was still dangerous, whether he acknowledged it or not. Could hurt her, or kill, without even realizing it.

Back in Armenia he let her sleep beside him, allowed himself rest along her. She never saw him toss or turn, his body always controlled even in the midst of dreams. What happened now had to be a repercussion from the stress of Gotham, before, during and after the siege.

Come to think of it, it was a wonder he didn't suffer anything more than night terrors.

Or did he?

Tentatively, Helena moved back to her room. Bathroom could wait. She had rest of the night to think over what had happened. And how to make it stop.

oOo

She felt like shit. Sleep overcame her somewhere in between worrying about Bane and praying to hold her bladder in check. It wasn't a restful slumber too, her nerves strung tight with memory of a near death experience.

Never a dull day with Bane.

Speaking of the Devil. He was sprawled on the sofa, reading something on computer. Hands kept stroking through skin of his scalp, fingers playing restlessly with short mane of hair on top. As if he couldn't get used to actually having something there, something else than straps of the mask.

"Enjoying freedom?" she asked, walking carefully towards the kitchen behind his back, mindful of stacks of boxes and books around.

Bane only hummed in affirmation.

"What are we gonna do if some CIA or NSA guy comes around asking again?" Voice hitched up and down, she barely understood herself. Fucking cold.

"Nothing."

Water filled kettle with gentle hum, masking her tired sigh. It wasn't mystery that he wasn't simple to be around, but she had no patience left to pick apart every little thing. She needed some clear, fast answers and solutions to calm herself down.

One problem at a time.

Mug of tea in hand she plopped beside him looking out to the sea.

"I saw the crack in your bedroom door."

"It's nothing."

"I was on the other side where you made it," she noted calmly.

That got his attention. He looked at her, no doubt trying to gather every clue as for her standing on the matter. No luck buddy, she thought, I can't breathe through my nose, no way I'm gonna look anything but miserable.

"That won't happen again."

"Damn right, I'm sleeping back at my place as soon as I feel better. And I'm not going to attempt or in fact even think about waking you up if you'll have another nightmare."

"Good."

She scoffed at him. He really thought that was the end of it?

"You're fucking unbelievable. Do you think you're impervious to all human affliction only because you're Bane, the legendary mercenary asshole?"

He probably did. Now he was more focused on her agitation than the fact that her life was at stake because of him. Nothing happened, so no harm done. Helena was far from being at peace with that reasoning.

"You care about me," he noted, looking back to his computer with smug smirk.

"Act like you do now and that will change," she warned. "Unless you'd like to see my bloodied body in the corridor when you wake up. I saw the blade right before me. Your aim is uncanny."

He grew serious then, but Helena felt the urge to hammer the point inelegantly, to let him know how she felt.

"I don't feel safe around you."

Getting up to fix herself something to eat she glanced at him. He was crushed, unseeing eyes still on the screen.

Helena seethed as she ravaged through the fridge, and went back with full plate to sit back beside him. She offered it, and he took a piece of salmon on egg like a peace offering.

"I'm still mad at you," she said around bite of bread she was chewing.

"I'm aware," he mumbled.

"Are you going to get help with your nightmares?"

The movement of his head, sharp but fluid, didn't surprise her. Hurt in his eyes though, did.

"I don't need help."

Like fuck he didn't. She didn't have it in her to argue though. The right was on her side, she had proof in flesh.

"So, are you going to do anything about it yourself?" she inquired.

"No."

"Why not?"

"I'm not going to discuss that."

Helena knew he had to have his reasons. Mainly his history of global terrorism. Still. There were ways to work over that.

"Why not, Bane?" she drilled.

Silence. He glowered at the laptop and stole an apple from her plate.

"You can't deal with it on your own. Even if it doesn't impede your daily life now, it will. Go see a doctor," she insisted.

"No."

He didn't even look at her, engrossed into something on the computer.

"Please go see a specialist." her throat was giving up, and it came out weak and pleading, instead of harsh and demanding as she wanted.

"No."

Clacking of keys was rapid, as he worked, ignoring her.

"Oh, for the love of…" Exasperated, she grasped at straws. "Will you at least let me try something?"

"No."

"It was adorable first two times, now you're just being annoying."

"No."

Oh, so he thought he could just shut her out. After he nearly begged for attention. For a relationship.

"Fine," she said.

Bane missed the look on her face, but he glanced worriedly after her, retreating back to her room.

Like hell she would let him stew in his guilt and fears. Like hell she would let herself be brought along.

oOo

"Helena!"

The shout was angry, loud and succeeded in tensing her muscles. Fantastic. Here she was, taking a well-deserved hot bath before she went back to her simple cottage and he had to go and ruin it.

Good thing she closed the door.

"Open up."

"Whatever it is, you can wait until I'm done," she shouted back.

Really, she was a doll for past week. Took her medicine, ate everything he brought even if she didn't have an appetite for it, entertained him with conversation even while her brain was slowly stewing away.

And now this.

"I picked up your package," he informed, no doubt leaning heavily on the wall just outside the door.

"Thank you."

"Don't you fucking mock me!" Bane shouted.

Sighing, she closed her eyes. So very unlike him to lose control like this. All the more reasons for her to assist him in resolving his problem.

"You didn't want any help. How do you expect me to behave when you're being childish? It's only natural I'll treat you like a child."

Lock snapped, manipulated from outside. Shitty manufacturing. The door opened, slowly, with bone chilling creak. Bane had to be very deliberate to produce it, especially prolonged as it was.

Intimidating Helena was more difficult than that. Especially while she had bigger guns in her arsenal, currently aimed at him. So to speak.

She cracked one eye open to look at him.

"Well?"

Whatever argument he had died on his lips once he saw her, submerged in bath, mounds of thick foam enveloping every visible stretch of her skin.

"I didn't think so," she said, smiling lightly at the look on Bane's face. Stupefied. Who would have thought his weakness would be some water mixed with soap?

"Be nice and at least see what it says on the package. "

Bane shook his head as if he needed to clear it from a haze. And maybe he did, considering their history with baths. And showers.

"Lully Sleep Guardian uses the proven scheduled awakening technique to prevent night terrors," he read out loud, sitting on a chair after he nudged her clothes to the floor.

"Ninety percent success in clinical trials since 1988," she supplied with a sing sang voice.

Bane was already engrossed in a leaflet provided with the device, frowning slightly. He did look like a petulant child.

"What if it doesn't work," he asked, raising his eyes to hers. "What if I'm in that ten percent left?"

"Then we'll try an adult way of dealing with PTSD," she stated. "One that is illegal, but efficient."

"What?"

"Pot."

That made him laugh. He snorted derisively at the end.

"I don't know which is worse," he said.

"You suffering versus some recreational smoking or a vibrator under your mattress? Gee, Bane, and you were supposed to be the intellectual here."

"Stop mocking me."

"Start behaving like yourself. Don't hide the issue, don't run away from problems."

"Oh, you have monopoly on that, don't you?"

"If you say so." She shrugged.

Her indifference infuriated him and he scaled the distance to the bathtub with thumping steps, sitting on the side to lean dangerously over Helena.

"Maybe I need some other outlet to my stress, hmm?" He hissed, calloused fingers gently stroking her cheek and neck. "Maybe I just need a good fuck to settle."

"I don't want to fuck you," she said calmly.

That wasn't even a lie. At this moment he was being difficult and bratty, far removed from anything she wanted to get herself into.

Humiliated, he straightened, lips twisted in bitter scowl.

"Don't forget you came to me before. Of our two, you're the one who can't endure without a good fuck for more than a few months. How long has it been this time? You'll come to me again."

Typical, lashing out when balance of the argument tipped out of his favour. Defensive mechanism as clear as day. Apparently, he forgot Helena had some experience with trauma, and claws of her own.

"How can you be so sure now that I have other viable options on the table? I'm not bound to you, Bane. Neither are you to me. If you want, go and find someone to screw with."

She watched him storm away, leaving the door open, seeping all warmth out.

She plunged into receding foam down to her eyes, nose submerged under the water. Blew a raspberry, bubbles tickling her cheeks.

What a mess.

She never thought it would be easy. Still, some insane part of her brain wanted to just get up and go to him saying 'You have a butt and I have a pair of hands, gosh what a coincidence', and let him ravish her all night long.

Now that the mask was gone? Fuck. What was she doing?

But it would be more damaging to hide everything under the rug. Pretend nothing happened between now and Armenia. They both needed more time.

Maybe she should go away? That would probably be for the best, time for both of them to think rationally and clearly. No aggravating their wounds, old and new alike.

Easter was around the corner, so she could surprise her sister with a holiday visit.

Mulling over everything she took her time drying and dressing, absentmindedly tying a loose knot of the robe. It was high time she went back to her cottage anyway, since the only remnants of her illness were tender throat and slightly runny nose.

Bane was sitting in living area, hunched on the sofa with elbows on his knees.

"I'm packing my things and going back tonight."

"Indeed?"

If she didn't know better, Helena might be tempted to think he was glad she would be gone. What an awful thought.

Before she gathered herself enough to say anything more, he straightened and leaned back craning his neck on the backrest.

Damn. That part of him was always her weakness. Inexplicably, it was still smooth and strong, a trademark of masculinity, with adam's apple bobbing slightly when Bane swallowed.

Only after few seconds she noticed tears silently rolling down to hide in hair at his temples.

"I'm sorry. I don't know how to do this. Don't leave me to figure it out without you."

How was she supposed to go now?

Sofa creaked when she sat beside him on folded legs. Bane turned his head to look at her.

"Why are you smiling?"

"We're both idiots," she stated. He frowned.

Why was she building artificial walls between them instead of focusing on getting rid of those that already existed?

"I'm not abandoning you. I will stay for two nights more, but only if you promise to try Lully out. "

"Agreed." That was too fast, but Helena was far from done. Her eyes strayed to his neck again. How in hell did he avoid getting burns there?

"Good. I'll need you to remove any weapons you might have in easy reach around your bed, too."

"I can't do it." He tensed, and to prevent him from straightening up she threaded her hand through his hair.

"Yes you can, and you will." Fingers playing with short strands she watched him settle gradually under her touch. "Ask something in return and it will be a trade, not surrender."

Voicing it out loud was risky tactic, but she needed him to understand he wasn't as secretive as he probably thought.

"Sleep with me." Immediate, without thinking about it. Breath hitched slightly in her throat. Oh yes, yes please! she wanted to shout.

Instead, nagging demon of reason forced her to say,

"That would defeat the whole purpose of my stay."

"Kiss me." Again, without a shred of indecision.

Hesitation written on her face resulted in Bane straightening back, disappointed scowl twisting scars marring his cheek and jaw.

"Why can't we take thing slow and stay at being friends for now?" She tried to reason, twisting slightly to face him better. It was an argument both for him and her… One she wasn't sure she had a good answer to anymore.

"Because I love you and…" He trailed off. His eyes were turned down, focused on something with troubling intensity. "No, you're right. Friends is fine."

Helena narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

"Really?"

She didn't see his hand sneaking behind her, but felt it splaying possessively on her lower back. Bane slid her closer, twisting his head to bring his lips to hers.

"Friends with benefits. It's a thing, isn't it?"

Arrogant fucker.

His skin touched hers, an electric tease, raising fine hair at the back of her neck. Warm breath ghosted over her cheek. Unoccupied hand sneaked under the robe, lapels so far apart he barely had to nudge the fabric away.

So that what he was looking at; ogling her tits, while she was battling between keeping his psyche while and her own needs in check.

She lost it when he started worrying his lower lip, sucking it gently between his teeth.

Both palms splayed on each side of his head she forced him to close the distance. Ten years and all that teasing, the dilemma over his well-being and hers… Even a saint wouldn't be able to resist that sinful mouth just mere millimeters away. So she licked in between the seam of his lips, moaning with exquisite pleasure of finally fulfilling desire she was coveting since she first saw him on an unnamed road somewhere in the mountains.

Thin robe she had on practically slipped open itself, the tie already loosened enough for Bane to move his hands to her hips, hauling her to his lap with a laugh.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He asked between kisses, in precious few seconds when Helena had to move back a bit to bunch up his shirt.

"Don't you fucking mock me," she growled.

Laughing again, he cradled her close, hiding her head in the nook between his neck and shoulder.

"I gather you're not opposed to benefiting from our friendship this way?"

Delivery of his taunt came out breathless, because Helena was in the middle of nipping and licking her way up the side of his neck. She stopped by his ear, mauled and cut, but still sensitive from years of being safely tucked away behind straps of mask.

"I will deal with your later," she warned. "I will teach you to be considerate, and respectful, and mindful of people that want to take good care of you."

"Why later?"

She straightened, looking down at him, beautiful in her seriousness, smoldering need reddening her cheeks and glinting with heat in her eyes.

"Now I want to sample if those benefits of yours are worth the hassle."

Bane grinned, the challenge as welcome as relief it promised. He pressed her insistently back to his hips, letting her know that the benefit was quite ready, and indeed ripe for the taking.

Someone knocked on the door.

Their eyes met in mutual agreement. Fuck whoever was outside. Hide.

Bane stood up, keeping Helena nestled in front of him. Two steps towards the bedroom and he grunted, spine complaining over unexpected weight it had to carry. He masked it with a kiss, and rested for a second, pressing Helena to the corridor wall. That was a first.

Knocks echoed again, insistent.

Before he could start towards the bed, their hideout, someone shouted through the door.

Helena shifted, at once alert.

"I think it's Grace."

"I think I don't give a flying fuck," he retorted, distracting her with another kiss. He ended up distracting himself as well.

"Well, well, well," came from behind them. "The ever elusive doctor Dorrance. You both make yourself decent and meet me in the living room. I'll make tea."

"Hi Grace," Helena waved meekly one hand that was gripping Banes shoulder. To him she whispered "Better listen, she's scarier than you when she has to wait."

The mood was killed anyway. Might as well try and behave like a civilized being towards the intruder, Bane thought with a sigh.

He had some questions he wanted answered, and knew Helena wouldn't squeal on topics he was the most interested in.

"All in good time," he mumbled to the scribe, letting her go gently at the entrance to her room.

Yes, she won't dare escaping him again.

And here I am, still unsure how Bane should be called now...

R&R!