Chapter Bane is suspicious

Bane narrowed his eyes at the doctor who stood innocently by the gurney. She seemed both more annoyed and happier than usual. Something was going on. That and her long hair was down. Usually she had it up when treating patients but he did pull her out of bed at 1 in the morning.

"So you going to stare at me all night and hopefully bleed out at, or are you going to let me do my job," she said. Annoyed he grunted, "Get on with it."

"Lay on your back and hold as still as possible," she said after wheeling the gurney into a room with a CT machine. She stepped behind the wall and turned on the machine. Studying the images she chatted amiably.

"The guys who shot you got close. They almost clipped your aorta and femoral artery. There is lots of internal bleeding and old foreign material in your back. Shame. If your men brought you back 10 minutes later, you would have died."

"If I die, you die," He wheezed.

With a huff, the surgeon grabbed her instruments and donned her gown and gloves. Barsad stepped behind her and tied the strings, surprised she turned around.

"I heard you needed an assistant, we cannot risk bringing another here to help. Do not worry, I was a medic and I know how to maintain sterility." Barsad stated plainly. Nodding she said, "Scrub in, let us begin."

2 hours later, she said, "All the bullets are out and the bleeding has stopped. His liver is actually causing the internal bleeding. The hepatic portal vein got hit, we need to put him under." Before Barsad can respond, Bane growled, "Continue."

"No, It is deep inside you. You will feel a lot of pain and start moving around. This is risky, if I don't fix this, the bleeding will continue and you will lose your liver." She shot back. "No doctor," interrupted Barsad, "Bane cannot feel pain. He mask he wears makes him invulnerable to pain." Curious, the surgeon turned to Bane. "Is it a gas?"

"Yes."

"We still need to strap you down though. Just in case." She said.

When he nodded his consent, the two tied him down and got to work. Forgetting about him, he listened to them chat about trivial items. It was fine, he enjoyed hearing her talk-not like she said anything important-but the sound of her voice was delightful, low and feminine. Her voice was the audible equivalent of black coffee: warm, rich, and dark. And bitter. Especially towards him but whenever she talked, her voice seemed to suggest secrets and he couldn't help listening.

Too soon she wrapped up and was out of the room. "Sir," Barsad ventured. "May we, the men go and get her some clothes? She was saying that she needed some clean clothing."

After a short deliberation, Bane agreed. "So long as it is appropriate."