Chapter 22

Author: I KNOW. I have been absent for.. - checks- A YEAR? AHHH! This past year was a void for me. A black hole. A 'nothing'. I went through a pretty difficult situation (LAYOFFS!) that put me in a TERRIBLE head space. I feel like I'm only just now starting to get out of that 'funk' and recovering both physically and mentally. I WILL PREFACE BY SAYING: All of you who left reviews: THANK YOU. You definitely helped pull me out of that 'funk' and motivated me to take a stab at continuing this story. Every time I got a new review, I would BEAM HAPPINESS out of my ears. It was such a welcome surprise to know there are folks who still enjoy and read this story. I still have a lot of story to share about Myra and Bane - leaving reviews is extremely helpful and lets me know that I'm not just writing to an empty crowd. This next chapter is for 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.


Myra went in and out of sleep for a handful of days, physical and mental exhaustion still set deep in her mind and muscles. After several long days passed, Myra was well enough to be disconnected from her IV and catheter bag. As soon as she was physically able, she made her way to Bane's room. She had not properly prepared herself for what she saw.

Bane's mask had been removed entirely and was replaced with a clear medical respirator connected to oxygen. The transparent nature of his new mask led to the visibility of his old facial wounds and deformation around the nose and upper lip, making him appear even more vulnerable given his current state. His vest, shirt, and pants had been removed and were replaced by swaths of white cheesecloth bandages covering his immense chest. She noticed his face and arms had been cleaned, the dark soot that had radiated over his body earlier when he was brought in all but gone. She could detect bruising creeping from under the bandages around his arm, neck, and chin in dark grotesque blotches of black, green, and violet, on the verge of reverting back to normal pigmentation judging by the pale yellow that lined the bruises. He was also connected to an IV bag and catheter. Despite all of this, he looked peaceful and didn't appear to be in any pain.

Myra stood next to him as she took in his wounds. The methodical hissing sound emanating from his respirator provided her a small amount of comfort, the familiarity of the sound putting her in a moderate sense of ease. Her eyes roamed over his body once more to confirm his state of wellbeing before she stepped closer to his bedside. She brought up a hand with extreme hesitancy, unsure whether to reach out and touch him else he succumbed to his wounds by just the simple weight of her fingers. She took one self-assuring sigh before reaching a hand out to touch his cheek.

Myra let out a breath when he didn't immediately crumble into a million tiny pieces. She stroked her fingers along his jawline several times before taking a step back, crossing her arms over her chest. With Bane's wounds treated, Myra knew all he needed to do was wake up. Which may happen any day, or it may never happen. Don't think that.

Unsure of when or if he would wake up, Myra and Barsad resolved to ensure someone was with him in his room in case he woke up. She took to sitting in a moderately uncomfortable shaggy chair next to his bed. To fill the void, she took to reading whatever material she could find around the safe house. This involved unremarkable paperback books about subjects that she had no general interest in that looked like they had been submerged in water at one point. When she was bored of this, she would revert back to napping or idly humming while looking out the dirty window by the chair. The landscape proved to be unexceptional and bland, and it was obvious that they were in a very remote area with no sign of neighbors. The weather outside also seemed to be consistently gray and overcast with a periodic light mist coating the property.

After a week of this routine, Myra transitioned to rest along the narrow strip of open space on Bane's bed, being mindful not to disturb the bed or IV when she settled in. She kept her back to him, letting her hips nestle against him gently. Her heel or toes usually nestled against his leg, hoping this minimal touch would alert her to any shifting or movement on his part, indicating he was on the verge of waking. She would also periodically adjust her arm so that she could hold his hand in hers, still amazed at how truly large of a human he was with his hand dwarfing hers. It became a habit of hers to trace her forefinger against his calloused palm and up each of his equally calloused fingertips. During this time of idle touch, she couldn't help the fact that her mind would wander to her state of insecurity. She had no idea what her life would be like if Bane never woke up. He had been a constant source of power and reassurance the past year, being the foundation for which her life revolved around. He had provided a consistent level of protection, familiarity, warmth, guidance, and assurance. Her perception of him had evolved dramatically since their initial meeting, that was obvious. Now what?

Myra continued to read the stiff paperbacks while laying next to Bane. She began by occasionally looking over her shoulder to make sure he was still there, as if he would suddenly fly through the ceiling at any moment if she didn't check on him often. After several days of this, however, she resolved to keep her mind and attention on the book in her hand, not wanting to revert to obsessing over what might happen should he not wake up and how different her life would be because of it. When needed, she also assisted with cleaning Bane with Kal's instruction as well as ensuring he did not develop any bed sores. Barsad and Kal spent most of the time in the kitchen which also served as the dining room, either preparing food, medicine, or looking over documents. Myra wasn't quite sure what the contents of the documents were, since every time she got close enough to read them she would get an unwelcome look from either Barsad or Kal indicating they would prefer privacy. This would prompt her to go back to Bane's bedside where she would continue to wait idly for any sign of improvement in Bane's health. However, Myra couldn't shake the feeling of discomfort and discontent that continued to plague her mind.

After an additional week and a half of this routine while Myra was sifting through a paperback novel that had seen better days, Myra felt a soft shift of the bed.

Before she could react and turn her head towards the source of displacement, she sensed the hair that nestled along her shoulders being lifted up carefully away from her back by calloused knuckles.

"….this…must be heaven," Bane wheezed out gently.

Myra startled, dropping her book to the floor. She turned her body around to face him, the mattress bouncing from her movement. Bane's eyes closed and his brows furrowed in pain from the sudden jerking of the bed. Myra's expression was of pure euphoric relief at his awakening. She bent down to gently cup his face between her hands.

"Bane…." was all Myra could say. His eyes opened, blinking several times for clarity.

Their eyes locked. They both gazed at each other for what felt like eternity.

Suddenly, her expression turned sour.

"Don't you EVER do that again! EVER. EVER. EVVERRRRR!," she shouted. Spittle practically exploded from her lips, using her hands to lightly choke him by his thick muscled neck. It wasn't clear what she was referring to; whether it was abandoning her outside of Gotham, or his tactics of rendering her unconscious prior to his return to Gotham to follow-out the plan to destroy it.

Bane turned his head away from her to the side as if to deflect her verbal assault.

"No," he wheezed. "The heavenly gates remain elusive. This must be the bowels of hell," he continued.

Myra's gaze softened at his jest, her eyes transitioning into a saddened state as her mind continued to recount the events.

"You…left me," Myra choked out finally, removing her hands from his throat.

Bane turned his head back towards her after hearing the betrayal and heartache in her voice. He watched as moisture glistened and coated her eyes, her lips forming into a hard line. Bane's expression transitioned into one of pain and regret knowing his actions must have incepted a deep level of abandonment and questioning on her part, huffing out a wheeze before speaking.

"…I am deeply burdened with regret for the path I have chosen," he confessed softly, almost inaudibly.

Myra returned his gaze, noting the conviction in both his tone and in his expression, deciding now wasn't the time to continue her verbal accosting. Instead, she brought a hand up to settle on the side of his forehead and slid it down to his cheek, hovering over him by shifting herself up to rest on her knees.

The gentleness of Myra's gesture caused Bane to let his eyelids flutter down lazily, considering her pacified, for now. He was aware, however, of the great level of questioning and abandonment that still must linger in her mind due to his actions. He shifted his hand to settle on her waist when she rotated her body and angled her chin to face him, his thumb brushing up and down along her side in slow, firm circles.

Suddenly, Myra's breath hitched.

Bane's hand had unknowingly rubbed over her bandaged wound on her abdomen. She reacted by recoiling away from his hand, a hiss of pain escaping her lips. Bane quickly but delicately lifted up her shirt to observe her bandaged abdomen. His focus became severe. When Myra finally recovered from the spiking pain, she looked at him shyly.

Then, without warning, she started to cry.

These weren't regular sobs. These were sobs of great loss, guilt, and layered emotional pain.

Bane didn't need her to explain or elaborate. While he did have questions, those seemed inconsequential to the simple need to console, hold, and comfort her.

Bane guided her down against his body, fighting the pain and discomfort he undoubtedly felt from the weight of her body against his abundant bruising, wounds, and fractures. He placed his hand firmly against the top of her head, gently stroking his fingers through her hair in a calming and pacifying manner. He exhaled gentle sounds of comfort and encouragement into her ear.

Myra remained in Bane's embrace for some time, time inconsequential and forgotten as she willed her pain out of her mind and body, Bane being more than obliging to take that burden from her. .

When Myra finally spoke, her hand covered her face. She kept her nose buried under his armpit as if in shame, unable to look at him.

"I lost it," she sobbed out in a muffled tone.

Myra heard Bane's breath freeze, his fingers constricting involuntarily in the hairs on her scalp. After a moment, he reached over with his other arm to wrap her snuggly against his chest. Through his body language, he continued to encourage her to lament, cry, and heal next to him, ignoring the raging pain in his mind and body. He told his body to simply shut the fuck up, his priority and focus utterly on her.

"Blame finds no purchase in the realm of unjust misfortune," Bane whispered.

Bane continued to run his hands through her hair, his eyes downcast while he rode out her body convulsing into his. Each tremor from her sobs was a tremor against his damaged body. Bane shared Myra's pain in a very real physical sense. Myra's convulsing quieted after a handful of minutes, and eventually quieted to periodic sniffles from the moisture that fell down her face. She finally wiped her nose with her hand to clear it of congestion, tilting her head back gently to gaze at him bashfully.

"I'm sorry…" Myra eased out shamefully.

Myra was sorry for her emotional display. She was also sorry for her miscarriage, feeling it was her fault. She had failed to protect her – Bane's - child even before it even had a chance to properly grow and flourish. If she had been stronger or more capable with defending herself, perhaps things would have turned out a different way. She felt entirely miserable and inadequate. Bane knew immediately the wide array of meanings captured behind her apology. He wasn't having it.

"Listen to me, Myra," Bane said, making sure he had her full attention. He even angled her chin to look at him.

When Bane saw that he had Myra's full attention, he continued.

"The mantle of failure rests squarely upon my shoulders. My absence is a scar upon my soul. I will not have you seeking my forgiveness, for it is I who should be - will be - seeking yours," Bane uttered out gravely.

Myra simply stared, skepticism, numbness, and disbelief lacing her features. She knew Bane wasn't aware of the full story of how they both ended up in this safe house covered in bandages. Would he feel differently if he knew I went back into Gotham, going against his wishes and orders? Bane also wasn't lucid enough to have captured the encounter in front of the helicopter between Tahlia and Myra.. He couldn't possibly even know Tahlia was the one who stabbed her, or that Tahlia was dead because of it. Myra wasn't sure how she was going to tell him. Her heart started to sink, worry overtaking her features.

Bane picked up on her skepticism, perhaps detecting an untold story.

"Despite whatever the unfolding of circumstances, if responsibility craves a name, let it be mine to bear. I am the author of our shared lamentations. Whatever ill that becomes of you is my responsibility, and mine alone. These tears that wet your face belong to me," Bane said, emphasizing his words by rubbing a thumb along her tear-stained skin, his voice taking on a deep and finite tone that gave her goosebumps.

"I only hope one day you will forgive me for my transgressions," Bane eased out, running his palm against her forehead to brush aside her hair.

Myra let out a sigh, inexplicably pacified by the authoritative knowing in his voice paired with the soothing nature of his large fingers against her skin.

"Grief knows no timeline. When the time is right, we shall discuss this further. I will be your beacon in the darkness," Bane said with a sense of deep-rooted conviction.

They remained silent again for a handful of minutes, Myra relishing in the warmth and comfort of Bane's presence. Relief washed over her chest as she allowed his words to sink in and sooth her, as he always had a way of doing.

Myra's facial features suddenly turned to pure mischief as she angled her face to better look into Bane's. Bane saw the transition, adjusting his chin and the angle of his gaze just slightly to better look at her. Bane knew this look; she was on the verge of producing some Myra-sized teasing sass and would most certainly require his full attention for full effect.

"My boyfriend Batman saved Gotham. He flew the bomb over the harbor…" Myra let out as if mentally far away, her brows raising up as her hand idly swept along his arm dreamily, obviously waiting for some emotional shift to be triggered from Bane at the utterance of "Batman".

Bane simply stared at her as he processed her words.

Myra continued to wait for several long moments, her eyes lifting up to meet his expectantly. Then, to Myra's utter shock, one corner of his lips twitched upward into a mild smile.

Myra was hoping for some sort of reaction that wasn't mild placidity from Bane, so when he simply smiled at her, she furrowed her brows.

"Did you hear me? BATMAN SAVED GOTHA-!" Myra repeated louder at him, but was swiftly albeit gently cut off. Bane had brought up his hand to cover her mouth as an indicator for her to lower her voice.

"Hush…I heard you. Your boyfriend, the Batman, saved Gotham, and in doing so spared our lives. Bravo," Bane teased, his hand moving from her mouth to slide to her cheek and then to cup the side of her face.

Myra continued to keep her brows raised at his drastically unaffected attitude towards her words. Myra's gaze eventually softened. She observed that Bane's eyes had weeks of drowsiness and pain still settled behind his lids, which were currently lowered to indicate his state of lethargy. He was obviously doing his best to accommodate her need for his attention in the moment, but he was swiftly fading.

Myra swallowed, her senses finally finding her.

"Let me go fetch the doctor and tell Barsad that you're up. Can I get you anything?" Myra asked emphatically, giving his hand a comforting squeeze.

Bane's head shifted to look straight at her, gazing at her for several moments before his eyes lazily dropped to her lips, his mask projecting slight wheezes which hinted at the mild discomfort and difficulty he was experiencing from breathing due to his injuries. Myra regarded him, observing where his eyes had settled on her face and the subtle nonverbal request. Her lips twitched into a smile before moving forward, pressing her lips into his cheek, which was one of the only open real estate options available on the skin on his face without taking his medical respirator mask off.

Bane's hand slid from her waist to circle around to her back, Myra noting his strength seemingly not diminished by his injured capacity based on the firmness of his arm against her back, pulling her even closer. When she went to lean back, she noticed he wasn't easing up on his hold, so she decided to shower him with some more kisses until she felt that she covered his face with a gentle sheen of kiss moisture.

When she went to make an attempt to lean back to fetch the doctor a second time, and still noted the firmness of his hold against her back, she gave him a stern look.

"I really should get the doctor…" she pleaded.

"That can wait. I wish to linger in this dream's somnolent embrace a while longer…" Bane said, his large finger trailing down her cheek.

Myra sighed but subsequently surrendered and shifted her knees out from under her and adjusted her body so that she was lying prone on her side lengthwise against him. His arm moved so that she could rest on his upper arm, leaning her head forward and nestling her nose against the soft skin of his neck for several moments. She inhaled deeply, capturing his distinct masculine musky smell. I almost lost him…

Forcing composure and strength, Myra brought one of her hands to gingerly settle on his heavily bandaged chest, being careful knowing that was where the brunt of his injuries were but also wanting to feel his warmth and the rise and fall of his breathing. She used her other hand as additional support under her head, sandwiched between his upper arm and her ear. The tip of her toe fidgeted against his calf, unable to contain her state of pure bliss. Bane's eyelids closed, curling the arm that Myra used as a headrest along her body and rested it on her lower back, slipping his hand underneath the hem of her shirt to make contact with her skin. He idly thumbed the scar that inhabited her lower back with gentle repetitive strokes. The hand from his other arm lifted up and settled over Myra's hand that was placed on his chest, completely encapsulating it with his much larger one. Myra wasn't sure how long it was before she eventually dozed off, the burdens shadowing her mind these past few weeks slowly easing from her conscience.


Barsad walked in several hours later to exchange shifts with Myra, somewhat startled to see an unmoving Myra entwined in Bane's limbs. He snuck closer to the bed, waiting for Myra to turn to acknowledge him, but when she didn't move, he made the assumption that she was asleep. He noted Bane's hand resting over Myra's on his chest, his other hand curled up against her body nestled under the fabric of her shirt, indicating that there was no way that Myra could be laying like this next to him without some movement and accommodation on Bane's part.

Meaning he must have woken up. His eyes snapped to Bane's face, looking for some indication that he was awake.

Bane immediately opened his eyes to focus on Barsad's, undoubtedly having detected and waited for his approach as he entered from the other room, his senses not entirely diminished despite his weakened state.

Barsad moved around to Bane's side, giving him a lazy smirk.

"Still alive are you?" Barsad said quietly.

Bane didn't reply with a verbal confirmation, but instead lifted his brows and closed his eyes, moving his head to the side as if in an indifferent shrug. Bane then moved his head slowly back to look at Barsad, fixing him with an intense stare; an obvious signal for his second-in-command to issue an update on their current situation and circumstances. Barsad knew he was probably confused as to why he was laid up in a room with peeling wallpaper with injuries riddled over his body. Alive.

Barsad stared back with his signature lazy gaze, trying to figure out the best way to tell him, unsure what Myra had already told him if anything at all. The bomb didn't go off. Batman saved Gotham. Tahlia died but not before stabbing Myra, causing her to miscarry. All pieces of information that would undoubtedly be utterly devastating for Bane. Barsad swallowed hard before pulling the shaggy chair up next to Bane's bedside and sitting down on it, resting his hands on his own knees.

"…the mission failed," Barsad said, eying Bane for an indicator to elaborate.

Bane nodded to him irritably, able to surmise this information already from the pieces of information Myra had provided earlier. Barsad sighed before continuing.

"The Batman was able to take the neutron bomb over Gotham bay where it went off, the Batman being the only casualty," Barsad continued unhurriedly, choosing his words carefully to best list the series of events that unfolded. With this bit of information, Bane could have surmised that Myra and Barsad simply found him after the neutron bomb failed to explode. However, that wasn't the entire truth and Barsad knew he had to provide explicit information surrounding the events to Bane.

"However…Myra had taken a helicopter to Gotham prior to that to try and find you. She was successful in finding me outside of Gotham City Hall. Together we were able to find you inside, unconscious, with severe injuries across your chest. I believe it was a blast from the Batpod. Your ballistic vest saved your life," Barsad continued, his pace continuing to slow, hoping to ease Bane into the information.

At this point, Bane's eyes turned steely and cool. His brows furrowed, a lethal glint sharp in his eye. A natural reaction for Bane, of course. Myra not only was able to thwart his efforts to keep her outside of harm's way, but blatantly disobeyed his orders and disregarded the value of her own life in favor of his. Barsad continued before Bane's emotions manifested in a very physical, very negative sense.

"We didn't have an accurate assessment for how much time we had left before the neutron bomb would detonate. I made every attempt to get Myra to go back to the helicopter without us, but…" Barsad scratched the back of his head, averting his gaze, not caring to elaborate on the stubborn qualities of Myra, instead letting Bane decipher his mannerisms.

"Myra…she refused to go ahead without you, even knowing she would have a chance to save herself before the bomb went off…," Barsad let the words settle for several moments, observing as Bane's eyes eventually shifted to settle on the top of Myra's head.

"Being unable to persuade her…we instead made an attempt to carry you back to the helicopter to get out of the city, knowing we were likely going to die along the way. However, the bomb failed to detonate. Instead, we encountered a different sort of…difficulties along the way," Barsad continued before pausing briefly to shift uncomfortably.

Barsad saved the worst news for last.

"Tahlia…she must have followed us to the helicopter. As we were boarding, she…stabbed Myra," he said, swallowing before continuing. "To keep Tahlia from killing her, I had to shoot her. I had to kill Tahlia," Barsad said, his tone indicating he just delivered the most unfavorable sort of news imaginable while maintaining a professional calm.

Barsad wasn't sure how Bane would react given the fact that their mission failed miserably while Tahlia, the woman Bane protected and followed for years, was dead and it was his fault. Not only that, but Tahlia was ultimately responsible for Myra's injuries and misscarriage. As he pondered this, Barsad began to wonder whether he should awaken and relocate Myra to let Bane vent any displeasure he may exhibit in a physical sense by either punching, choking, or killing whoever was closest (which had been known to happen), especially since Myra was now directly in his proximity and seemingly had his focus.

Barsad reacted to this impulse by stepping around to Myra, moving to her side of the bed and reaching his arms out to wake her up and shift her away. Bane finally reacted to Barsad, his brows furrowing upon realization of Barsad's intent. His eyes fixated on him with a threatening glare.

"Leave her," Bane wheezed out sharply, the arm that was curled around and along Myra's body flexing possessively to pull her even closer. Barsad froze where he was, giving Bane a questioning look but acknowledging the command.

Myra jolted awake from the severity of Bane's voice and firmer grip along her body. She was frozen for several moments as she processed her environment before she finally let out a sigh through her nose, stretching her body sleepily like a cat along Bane's in what could be perceived as a sensual manner, modesty and privacy lost as she was unaware that Barsad was also in the room behind her spectating the interaction.

She lifted her head to yawn, resettling her head to rest her cheek on Bane's arm, moving her head back to gaze up at him affectionately, noticing his eyes open and gazing down at her. She gave him a lazy smile, slipping her hand that was nestled under his larger one to slide up to settle on his cheek. Her thumb gently grazed the skin under his eye, oblivious to the news he just received and may be processing.

Barsad observed this delicate interaction and waited several more moments, seeing no indicator on Bane's part that he was going to unleash a fury of displeasure and frustration over the recent news. Instead, he observed Bane lean down to Myra's ear, whispering something so quietly that not even Barsad could hear. Myra's reaction to Bane's words, whatever they were, were immediate. Barsad noticed Myra's knees and feet curl up impulsively, her toes moving feverishly under the socks she wore as she quietly giggled in response, her cheeks turning a mild rose color before burrowing her head into the crook of Bane's arm and chest affectionately.

Barsad's feelings soon transitioned into awkwardness and unease, however, feeling as if he were intruding upon a deeply personal moment. He stiffly observed Bane's unwavering gaze on Myra, his eyes periodically scanning her facial features before relocating to her eyes.

Barsad took this moment to slip out of the room quietly, undetected.

All of Myra's attention and senses, meanwhile, were utterly devoted to Bane, oblivious to Barsad's departure.