BUT EMOTIONS WON'T GROW
Bane let out one final grunt as he collapsed beside me in bed. I didn't bother moving my arms to cover my bare breasts as I had in the past. It wasn't as though he hadn't seen them only two moments ago. It was a hot night at the end of Gotham's summer months. My body was sticky with sweat, as was his. My hair arranged around my hair on the pillow like a hallow but I had never felt less saintly. Bane was breathing hard beside me, he had really exerted himself this time and went a little faster and harder than my body was used to. I was no virgin, not even close, but there was something different about having sex with Bane. It was like someone had severed his connection between his sexual desires and his emotional responses. I had never felt more unloved or unimportant as I did when he was "making love" to me. Though people thought differently, I had never spent the night with a man I was not dating, a man who didn't have a long-term romantic relationship in mind. It might ruin my uncaring reputation, but I did care about this. This was intimate. This was me. I couldn't say it was rape, because it wasn't. I was willing even though you could make the argument that I was too scared to refuse him. I couldn't control my primal response when he touched me. He was experienced and well rehearsed. He knew what would make me scream out his name or what would make me beg him for more. But he was so indifferent about the whole thing. Afterwards I just felt… used.
"Perhaps I should start calling you my little harlot hmm?" He laughed from beside me. I didn't respond, instead I just continued to stare up at the ceiling. It had been about a week since I was taken, and in that time he had moved me out of the sewers and to his own private residence, which seemed to be a boarded up house in the middle of the narrows. It was actually a rather nice place. It had been cleaned and furnished rather stylishly, obviously not by Bane himself. He had also been "generous" enough to bring me some art material from my studio, the day before. It was the middle of the night but I wasn't at all tired. Being ravaged did nothing but make me restless and I didn't want to toss and turn for another few hours before sleep finally claimed me. I sat up and reached for the oversized shirt that I used as a makeshift nightgown, before slipping it on, "Where are you going?" Bane asked.
"Nowhere, just to the living room." I told him and he furrowed his brow at me before deciding that he didn't care enough to make it an issue. He just lay back in the bed and closed his eyes. I walked out into the living area of the house, closing the door of the bedroom behind me. I got a glass of orange juice before starting to sob. I didn't know what had come over me but tears were suddenly pouring out of my eyes and falling down my cheeks. I raided the medicine cabinet's stash of Aspirin before downing 5 of them and setting to work. The paint and canvas were the only things I could see through the cloudy drug induced haze and tears. I tried to express everything I wanted to say to the man sleeping peacefully in the other room but I couldn't. My hands were covered in black and red and blue, which matched the bruises on my wrists and thighs. When I was done, I succumbed to the darkness and collapsed on the hardwood floor. Curling up into a ball, my mind was drawn back to that night when I had slit my wrists and watched the blood drain from them. I felt like I was there all over again. I felt at peace.
I was awakened by a quick kick to the stomach, which made me double over in pain. I opened my eyes to see an unfamiliar man, one of Bane's goons probably.
"Look at the fucking mess you made bitch." The man spat at me but couldn't really comprehend what he was talking about, "The boss is not going to like this. Not one bit. And when he wakes up, I'm sure he'll give you the thrashing you deserve. So you better get cleaning." I relaxed immediately. For a second I thought that he was doing this on Bane's authority. That would have been concerning. But no, he was acting on his own initiative. I pressed my palm to my forehead and sat up.
"You hurt me." I stated calmly and felt for the source of the pain in my side, "My rib might be fractured."
"Do I look like I fucking care?" The man yelled, "Get up or I'll break the next one."
"What's going on in here?" Bane immerged from his room, shirtless and annoyed by the sounds of it, "Did I give you permission to be in here."
"I was just delivering a message." The man spoke quickly, "Ms. Al Ghul wants to speak with you."
"And you thought it was your duty to wake me up to the sound of you barking orders." Bane had not once looked down at me, or what I had done to his living room.
"Well no, I didn't mean to wake you, I uh- just saw all this shit and her and it was just unacceptable so I, well I-"
"You decide what is unacceptable do you?" Bane questioned. The man was becoming more and more weary of the situation he was in. He stuttered to find his words.
"Well no sir but-"
"So how did you act on you initial reaction to the current state of my living room?" Bane cut him off.
"I woke her up."
"How?"
"I don't remember." He clenched his jaw tightly, lying through his teeth.
"Fair enough." Bane responded then turned his attention to me for the first time, "Magdalene, do you remember?" His voice was slow and menacing in its light tone.
"He kicked me." I answered as I looked up at the man who had woken me so rudely. He looked petrified. I couldn't blame him, I would be too if I were standing where he was.
"Did he hurt you my darling?" He asked, using the term of endearment as further threat.
"No." I spoke quickly. I didn't want to be responsible for somebody's death, at least not this early in the morning. But Bane obviously didn't believe me.
"Did he hurt you Magdalene?" He repeated his question this time slower. I just swallowed nervously and nodded.
"And how did he hurt you?"
"My rib. He kicked my rib. It's probably just bruised or fractured though…" My voice trailed off and I watched Bane's reaction. He just nodded once and moved towards the man slowly.
"So you believe that it was quite within your rights, as a message boy, to come into my house and injure my property, then proceed to wake me up with your insufferable voice?" Bane asked. I didn't want to see what was going to happen next but I just couldn't look away."
"No. No. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." He sputtered out. Taking a step back and putting up his hands as if to surrender.
"Don't apologize to me, I wasn't the one you hurt." Bane said pointedly. The man turned to me quickly.
"I'm so sorry Miss." He apologized, no longer the angry man who had woken me up, he had been reduced to a little sniveling schoolboy.
"It's okay." I answered, "I'll be fine, really." Suddenly, before he could even turn his attention back to his foreboding superior, Bane had grabbed him by the shoulder and issued a quick punch to his midsection. That was followed by the unmistakable sound of cracking ribs. I shuttered and the man fell back with a yelp of pain.
"Then he'll be fine too." Bane spoke, his demeanor still completely collected. The man was rolling on the ground, groaning with what I could only imagine to be indescribable pain. Bane, obviously, had no sympathy for the pathetic creature, "You have delivered your message now get out." The man, not wanting to anger the beast more, scrambled up and all but crawled out the door that Bane held open for him. After I saw the door slammed shut I let out the breath that I didn't even know I had been holding in, "Take off the shirt." Bane addressed me, "If the bone is fractured I'll have to bandage it." I nodded demurely and unbuttoned the long shirt and blushed when he laid his eyes on my panty-clad body. He walked over to me and put his hand on the afflicted rib. I yelped when he put even the slightest pressure on it, "Not broken. Definitely fractured."
"Okay." I said quietly. Bane looked around the living room, at the paint, pills and completed canvas all strewn across the floor.
"This is what all the fuss was about?" He asked with a scoff and I nodded. He walked forward to pick up the artwork that I barely even remembered painting, "It's good." He said. He picked up the half empty bottle of Aspirin in his other hand, "I do not approve of your methods but the results are… undeniable." He thought for a moment, "Do I truly cause you this much anguish?"
"Sometimes." I answered with a shrug, pulling a blanket around myself as I spoke. He raised his eyebrows and shook his head disbelievingly.
"Shall we hang it?" He asked and I shook my head.
"No, it's not worthy of display."
"Why are you so critical of yourself. Look." He held up the painting for me to see, "This is your soul, your pain. I can read you better on this canvas than I can when I fuck you. I see you my little starlet."
"And what do you see?" I whispered.
"Anger." He answered, "You're… disturbed. Twisted by your need to feel something. Anything. I make you sad. Disheartened even. Though I'm not sure why." He looked thoughtful for a moment, "Is it because you spent so long trying to escape belonging to someone or being used like a doll? But now, when you're with me, you almost revel in it." He put down the painting and grabbed me, forcing me to look directly into his icy eyes.
"No." I said coldly.
"You like it." He whispered, his words worming into my mind, "You like being treated like this. You like being controlled. It makes you to feel things, things that you can't feel otherwise."
"Stop it."
"I researched you." He continued mercilessly, "The month before your attempted suicide you didn't produce any new work. Why was that? You would think that a suicidal individual would feel more than inspired enough, especially a painter who's whole profession relies on her sporadic emotions."
"I wasn't up to it. I was miserable, that's why I did it. I didn't want to do anything anymore. I wanted to stop for good."
"No, you did it because you felt nothing. Not miserable. Nothing. You couldn't produce anything because you were indifferent to everything."
"You're wrong!" I screamed, "You kidnapped me and forced me into submission and now you think you know me? Why don't you just kill me? That's all I want! Can't you see?" I took a deep breath before continuing in a dark controlled tone, "I hate this awful city. I hate that I can't enjoy my wealth or my talent. I hate that you make me feel this way. That you make me cry, or worst that you make me moan." I laughed humorlessly, "Fuck I don't want this. I don't want any of this. I wish I had died innocent. Without knowing what I know now." That time came flooding back to me and a familiar anguish came over me, "I wish I had died in that hole. Oh god, I wish I had been forgotten." Then I launched myself at his chest and started crying all over again. He put a hand on my back and rubbed it in a soothing manner. Once I couldn't cry anymore. Once I felt the pain turn into numbness. I struggled to get away and he released me from his grip. I stumbled away and fell against the couch. He just watched me.
"You don't hate me." He stated.
"No." I said in a raspy voice.
"Who do you hate then?"
"Myself."
"I can see that." He said casually, "You are more interesting that I originally bargained for my little starlet." He turned away from me to examine my painting once again, "Your work is beautiful, tainted, but beautiful nonetheless and yet you cannot even be sober or clean to produce it, to go to that dark place that inspires you. You hide from your own mind."
"Yes."
"But why?" He spun around again and approached me, cupping my cheeks in his hands as he kneeled down in front of me, "What happened to you?"
"I don't- I don't remember." I answered quickly, too quickly.
"Yes you do."
"I won't tell you." I said with a new resolve, "You have to earn that." I mimicked what he had said to me when I asked about his past. Bane's eyes wrinkled slightly.
"I think I've more than earned it. For the last week I've done nothing but feed, clean and fuck you."
"You think that's what I want?" I whispered resentfully, "To be fucked." He stared at me for a moment longer before laughing.
"Go clean yourself up." He dismissed me; "We'll have plenty of time for your epiphanies later." I didn't hesitate to stand up and run to the washroom, slamming and locking the door behind me. I let the blanket that I had kept securely around me the entire time I was screaming and crying fall to the ground at last. I turned on the shower and turned the knob to a scalding temperature before getting in. I leaned my head back against the tiles and let the water wash away all the paint, sex, and suffering that seemed to coat my skin.
When I exited the shower I put on a little summer dress and went to get some breakfast. Bane was reading the newspaper at the kitchen table. He didn't even look up when I passed him. I got some cereal out of the cupboard and made myself a hot cup of coffee. After he had finished whatever he was reading he folded the newspaper slowly and set it down on the table. He then reached into his pants pocket and withdrew what looked like a bottle of prescription pills and held it up for me to see.
"What is that?" I asked.
"Your anti-depressants." Bane said, "I had someone pick them up for you."
"When? While I was in the shower?" I asked incredulously.
"Two days ago." He replied, "The drug store said that you never picked them up after your little… incident."
"And they give away that information to just anyone do they?" I grit my teeth as I spoke.
"I know a psychiatrist. His methods are a little unorthodox but he still has connections." Bane returned her glare, "The entire world knows that you nearly killed yourself a little over 3 weeks ago. I didn't want a repeat of that on my hands." He stated matter-of-factly, "You should take the pills. They might help."
"I wasn't taking them for a reason." I replied.
"You weren't taking them because you were afraid that you might lose control and overdose again." He said and I scoffed, shaking my head, "Like how you almost emptied my bottle of pain killers, that I so carelessly left around, last night. On that note, the medicine cabinet shall be locked until I can trust you again, and I shall monitor your dosage of these daily." He got up and went to the kitchen, pouring a glass of water. He then popped open the pill bottle and took out one. He slid both items across the table to me, "Swallow." I complied and took the medication. He nodded and beckoned for me, "Is everything better now?" He teased, pulling me down so that I was straddling his lap.
"Yes, everything looks sunnier already." I replied sarcastically. He couldn't kiss me, instead he would pull my head down to his, forcing my lips onto his mask whenever he wanted my affection. I would then lean down further to kiss his neck, while he scraped his fingers through my hair.
"Good girl." He laughed, "Are you grateful?"
"Yes."
"Prove it." Then he got up, taking me with him as he did so and pushed us down onto the living room couch, "I've been good to you my little starlet, now I want you to good to me." I spread my legs for him obediently.
I ended up lying on top of him on the couch. His skin was pressed against mine, and he seemed to be amusing himself by tracing patterns on my breasts with his finger. The warm sensation made me squirm happily in his arms. I got bored easily though and reached for my camera that was sitting on the coffee table. He watched me and helped me flip over onto my stomach so that I could frame him in the shot. He looked different then he normally did, he was strangely at peace, and I wanted to capture the moment. I took the picture and grabbed the Polaroid as it came out. Before it developed though he snatched both the picture and the camera from my hand. Throwing the picture onto the table, he quickly snapped another one of me on top of him. I looked flustered and tried to get the camera back.
"Give it." I complained when he held it above his head, just out of my reach.
"No." He replied and I continued struggling against him. He took a few more pictures as I grappled with him in an unsuccessful attempt to get the camera out of his hand. I was laughing too hard to put up much of a fight though.
"Fine, you win." I muttered as I gave up and fell back against his chest.
"I always will."
PLEASE REVIEW... I know everyone always says that. But I am not above begging... so please please please please please please!
