Chapter 5

Author: This chapter is a bit difficult; it deals with a difficult topic (suicide). It's also short, and maybe a bit clumsily written, but I swear it gets better after this chapter; just muster through it! There's a light at the end of the tunnel, I promise! Be strong! My best chapters are right after this one!

I'd like to give a shout-out to Fall-Back-Down, AllLiesEnd/Dani, Jetsetter17, and Sienneax3. I really appreciating you taking the time to leave a review! It's incredibly encouraging to receive feedback and know there are people who are reading this story! (Special thanks to Dani for giving me extra tips/suggestions that were *SO HELPFUL*. -noms all the feedback and reviews like a savage for writing-fuel-sustenance-)

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.

Bane knew time was of the essence in terms of retrieving Myra. While his original plan had been to wait a reasonable amount of time before the Gotham Police's attention was drawn away from her, he now had the undue inkling that she was undoubtedly experiencing a considerable level of self-doubt, questioning, pain, and betrayal due to the outcome of the hostage exchange. That outcome, on top of the thoughts and feelings she had kept at bay concerning the three police officers that died in their attempt to retrieve her now undoubtedly undammed and festering, would create a perfect storm for depression and self-loathing. He wasn't sure how long she would last. He didn't want to find out.

Almost as soon as he made it back to the compound, he tasked out individuals to determine what station she was being held at, for how long, where she was kept at night, and to start making extraction plans.

The only positive outcome of Myra's sense of betrayal was that her despair, anguish, and sense of having been abused was genuine. This led to a considerably easier time with the police, who didn't push her into questions or answers that would instill more psychological distress or mental anguish.

Whoever interacted with Myra treated her as if she may suddenly transition into an emotional breakdown. Aside from the intense sobbing she did immediately following the hostage exchange, she felt that her emotional 'well' had been dried up and left her like a lifeless husk who just played at living and breathing. Her first stop immediately after her return to civilization was the hospital.

After treating her facial wounds (which required several stitches along her jawline) and assuring she wasn't malnourished, the doctors asked her if she had been raped.

Is it rape if I was manipulated into wanting it? Would it be considered rape if I wanted it at the time…? If there was no struggle? As Myra sat there looking down into her hand, wringing them together pondering these thoughts, the doctor interpreted her silence as confirmation.

"If you are willing and comfortable enough, it would be ideal to administer a rape kit as soon as possible," the doctor asked sympathetically.

Myra cringed inwardly. Despite the possibility of Bane having manipulated her emotions and body into submitting to his, the notion of him being identified by the remnants of his body inside of hers as a rapist didn't settle well with her, particularly due to his past history regarding his stance on rapists. Unless that story was a lie…

Why am I protecting him….he doesn't deserve it. Myra wasn't sure why. It made her upset that there was a part of her that continued to advocate and protect Bane.

Myra finally shook her head, turning her gaze away. The doctor looked at her thoughtfully.

"Well, if you change your mind, the sooner it's performed the better. In the meantime, we can offer you some emergency contraceptives and…an apportion bill, if necessary?"

Myra's mind swung back to all of the times she and Bane had unprotected sex. She started to realize how stupid and idiotic that decision was. She vigorously nodded at the offer. This seemed to both pacify and concern the doctor, with it being a level of treatment she was willing to take but on the other hand it also being confirmation that she had experienced some level of sexual abuse.

After spending the night at a hospital and determining whether she was pregnant (which, miraculously, she wasn't), they still provided her with some emergency contraceptives administered orally. She was then sent to a see Detective Reese about her experience as a hostage. She was asked to answer rudimentary questions about her stay, as well as whatever information she could provide. The detective asked her questions hesitantly, sensitively; again, not sure what might set her off.

Detective Reese's first question had been simply to identify Bane, her 'kidnapper'. The detective pulled a large photograph from a manila folder, hesitating briefly as if he wasn't sure he should show her the image, before placing it down on the desk between him and Myra.

Myra looked down at the image of Bane reluctantly, a marginally out-of-focus photo taken from a slightly elevated vantage point obviously from some type of telephoto lens meant to capture an image quick before the individual being targeted noticed. It was a picture of his profile, his arm slightly raised as if he were issuing orders. The profile view also amplified the shape of his mask, his brows furrowed, and his eyes set in a severe expression. She reached for the photo, picking it up and analyzing it. To the officer, it looked as if she were trying to determine if she had seen this individual before. For Myra, seeing him only brought back emotions that she had already started to bury deep into a box that were starting to rumble from their confines, threatening to break free. She was left confused and struggling. She slowly put the photo back onto the table, turning it back towards Detective Reese.

"That's Bane," she said simply. "He's the one…who took me," she continued, sheepishly.

Detective Reese raised his eyes at her timidly before giving a nod.

"Thank you, Myra. I know this may be difficult for you, but you are an invaluable resource of information, considering how long you were a hostage," Reese continued.

Myra slumped in the chair she was sitting in. She didn't want to be reminded of the fact that she had been a hostage 'for so long'. Detective Reese must have picked up on her grievances, because he continued on quickly.

"Would you be able to tell us where you were kept during you time as…a hostage?" he asked.

Myra simply stared down at the photograph of Bane on Detective Reese's desk, contemplating the answer. While she wouldn't be able to lead them to the inner compound where Bane's men stayed, she certainly could provide him with the fact that they were in the water outflow system. Myra's prolonged silence as she contemplated whether to share this information was immediately picked up by Detective Reese.

"Myra…it's really very important you provide us with any information you may have that would help us capture these individuals and prevent them from doing this again to someone else," he continued in a strained voice that sounded like it was making attempts at being soothing.

Myra continued to slouch in her chair, working it out in her mind before she provided him with an answer that would hopefully satiate him.

"It an underground parking garage. In a utility closet," she said matter-of-factly.

Detective Reese eyes her briefly as if she may be slightly dimwitted, before giving her a nod.

"Yes…we know you were kept there for a considerable amount of time during your stay. However, we are very curious to know where you were transferred after…"

He didn't finish his sentence. After three police officers came in to rescue me and were brutally killed. Myra knew that there was no way for Detective Reese to know whether Myra was in the room when the police officers died, or whether she even knew that they died. She decided to press on, making an effort to avoid that topic of discussion.

"No, I can't help you. I don't know," Myra said quickly, decidedly, almost shocking herself.

Detective Reese's mood seemed to shift slightly. Before he had been acting like he was walking on egg shells. Now he acted like he was privy to a deep dark secret.

"Can't help, or won't help?" he asked darkly.

Myra continued to stare at the photograph before her eyes, very slowly, rose up to his. She didn't respond.

Detective Reese said nothing else to her, and she was dismissed and transferred immediately to a psychologist. She was subsequently treated for classic symptoms of Stockholm syndrome. It was a tendency for victims of Stockholm syndrome to refuse to cooperate with police investigations regarding the victim's captors, which they were clearly seeing now in Myra.

The psychiatrist that Myra saw to, Doctor Solson, was a small aged woman who was far bolder with her questions than the previous individuals Myra had so far encountered regarding her time as a hostage. She also liked to use anecdotes in hopes that Myra would connect and relate her experience to one that had happened previously, forcing her to see the ethical dilemma she was facing.

"Have you heard of Patty Hearst?" Doctor Solson asked Myra curiously.

"Who?" Myra asked.

"Patty Hearst," Doctor Solson said. "She was kidnapped by a terrorist group in the 1970's."

Myra just stared at her, clearly not knowing who 'Patty Hearst' was.

"She was kidnapped against her will from her apartment; I believe they beat her, and she lost consciousness during the abduction. She was kidnapped because the terrorist group wanted to use her as leverage to free two of the terrorists' groups members who had been arrested for murder," Doctor Solson said matter-of-factly.

Myra swallowed. There were some strong parallels between Patty Hearst and herself. They didn't beat me unconscious though…Myra thought inwardly, as if that made the situation better.

Doctor Solson continued on. "The authorities failed to release the imprisoned men, so the terrorist group refused to release Patty. They kept her in a small dark closet for weeks, kept a blindfold on her at all times and kept her hands tied. She was constantly threatened with her death", Doctor Solson said, pausing to allow Myra time to digest her words.

Myra felt slightly less at ease than she initially felt when being introduced to 'Patty Hearst'. I was eventually released, though. Although I 'was' kept in a closet for weeks, it wasn't small and dark and I wasn't forced to wear a blindfold all of the time. They didn't bind my hands. No one ever threatened my life, either…Myra stopped herself from thinking further. Am I really trying to justify and rationalize why my hostage situation was superior to Patty Hearts? What is wrong with me?

Doctor Solson continued on, seeing the internal dialogue that Myra seemed to be undergoing coming to a conclusion.

"However, after weeks of this, she was eventually allowed out to engage in some of the political discussions that the group engaged in. They eventually went easy on her, providing her with a flashlight so she could learn about the political mantras of the group. The group constantly told her that they were thinking of either killing her, or letting her stay with them."

Myra couldn't help but continue to compare her situation with Patty's. I only ever briefly engaged in anything that would be considered 'political discussion' with Bane or Barsad…nothing consequential. My mindset never changed. Thank god I never had to use a flashlight to read in the 'closet'…god that sounds awful. What if Bane came into the room every day to tell me he was thinking of either killing me or letting me stay with them, only to repeat that process the next day? God… Myra physically cringed.

"She forced her mindset to coincide with theirs so that they would keep her. When they finally asked her if she wanted to stay with them, she said yes. They finally took her blindfold off – after weeks of it being on – and she was given daily lessons, duties, weapon drills," Doctor Solson continued.

Again, more parallels. Hmmmm. Myra thought. I was the one that asked "THEM" if I could stay... My mindset didn't change; I definitely didn't adopt a need to fulfill a life as a mercenary. They did provide me with daily lessons…although no weapons were involved. I was never given duties either. From a hostage stand-point, I was relatively pampered.

"She was raped by the members of the group repeatedly. She changed her name. She attempted to rob a bank, shoplifted constantly, engaged in petty crimes for the sake of the terrorist group. She even helped make explosive devices. When she was eventually arrested and captured by authorities, she refused to aid the authorities; even against those that had raped her and essentially brainwashed her – manipulated her – into this criminal world," Doctor Solson said pointedly.

Myra was shocked. She felt like she was unloaded with a large container of emotional and traumatic baggage that she wasn't sure how to respond to. Bane protected me from being raped… Myra squinted her eyes, thinking more on what Doctor Solson said. I feel 'no' desire to go rob a bank or commit any sort of crime. Not even at the high-point of my stay with Bane. If he had asked me to go rob a bank for him, I know I would have said no. I also know he wouldn't have asked me…

Myra decided she had better respond to Doctor Solson.

"But…I never felt like my life was in danger and I wasn't mistreated. I also don't consider myself 'indoctrinated'….I certainly am not a member of their army."

Myra's comments were, of course, met with skepticism, remnants of her facial injuries still on full display. Doctor Solson let her eyes wander over her face at the visual reminders of the facial beatings she received from the day of the hostage exchange. It made Myra feel incredibly self-conscious.

Maybe I was radicalized. I don't feel 'radical', though…I don't want to hurt anyone, I have no clue what Bane and his men actually "DO". She preferred ignorance.

Despite the psychiatry sessions, Myra continued to withhold information regarding her captors. She also withheld information about her own mental wellbeing, clearly becoming more and more depressed the more she talked about the perceived living hell she experienced.

It wasn't hell though…it felt like home. He was there. Myra grabbed the side of her head, grabbing chunks of her hair and pulling, trying to extract these thoughts out of her head. He deceived me. He never meant to get me. It was all a lie. Everything…was a lie.

Doctor Solson prescribed Myra with anti-depressants following their first session, clearly seeing the mental spiral that Myra started tumbling down.

That evening, Myra sat in her bed cross-legged. Her mind had felt like it was wired non-stop since she returned from the hostage exchange. She was having incredibly conflicting feelings. She couldn't breath sometimes. She was getting anxiety. I never get anxiety. She felt worthless, abused, manipulated. Then she would have a moment, a 'high', in which she would look on the brighter side of things and momentarily forget about her troubles before the spiral would repeat itself. Her 'high' was always short-lived; she couldn't find anything in her present situation that was positive.

Myra reclined back on the bed, rolling onto her side and grabbing one of her pillows between her arms, hugging it. What kind of person would let me feel the things I felt…and then just….Myra squirmed, bringing a hand up to cover her eyes. He let me get close…he knew what was going to happen…he enjoyed knowing how much it would hurt me. That's what he excels at. Hurting people. I'm just too blind or stupid to think he didn't mean to eventually hurt me too.

She pulled herself out of bed and made her way to the bathroom. She grabbed her toothbrush and some tooth paste, and began the process of brushing her teeth. She looked at the bathroom mirror as she did this before her eyes started glazing over. She could almost picture him looking back through the reflection at her, unmasked, brushing his teeth too before spitting his toothpaste out and brandishing her with a lovely knowing smile with those equally captivating lips. She felt like she was losing her mind. She didn't even finish brushing her teeth, but instead flung the mirror open to reveal the medicine cabinet behind it. She grabbed the antidepressants that had been prescribed to her earlier that day, opening the child-proof lid, and let one of them fall into her hand. She rolled the tablet between her fingers for a moment, before looking at the rest of the pills in the container thoughtfully.

When Myra didn't show up for the psychiatry session early the next morning, Doctor Solson immediately called the police for them to perform a well-check on her. When the police officers arrived at Myra's temporary residence, she didn't answer. They busted the door down and found her passed out on her bed with a bottle of antidepressants that had been prescribed to her in her hand and a spilled glass of water in the other.

They checked her pupils, which were enlarged. They immediately made attempts to induce vomiting, but she was thoroughly passed out. The police rushed her to a hospital, where they instantly started the process of having her stomach pumped. They also gave her an IV to help speed up the body's removal of the excessive and lethal number of antidepressants in her blood.

The system very clearly failed Myra Bell. Aside from their inability to misdiagnose early signs of suicidal thoughts, they began questioning her in a manner that very clearly was not conducive to a healthy mindset. Myra eventually recovered from her attempts at ending her own life, though it was an incredibly slow and groggy process. They confined her to a hospital room, elevating her status to a 'high risk for suicide', which of course made her stay in the hospital far less enjoyable. She had to ask permission to use the restroom and was escorted inside the restroom with a nurse watching her. She couldn't have access to sharp objects or any other material or object that she could use to inflict bodily harm. She was checked on every 15 minutes by a nurse, regardless of the hour. This meant that she was constantly in a state of drifting in and out of consciousness because she would be startled awake by the periodic nurse passing through and collecting blood samples to assure that she was healthy and alright.

During the day, she would receive the same routine; a social worker would come in and talk to her, followed by her psychiatrist Doctor Solson, then a recreational therapist visited, and lastly, she was invited into group therapy sessions which she declined to attend. The initial introduction to all of the nurses that came in to perform the 15-minute well-checks on her was enough for her not to want to be around people any more than she had to be.

Myra wasn't sure how long this routine lasted; she felt like it had been weeks, with no end in sight. She thought she had felt mildly manic prior to her stay at the hospital, but she felt that she had elevated to a whole new level.

Bane squatted by his make-shift fire that he kept near the canopy that covered the electrical equipment that displayed tactical information. Bane had his old tin cup in his hand, half-filled with tea. He heard footsteps approaching him from behind, so he turned his head to the side to see who it was. It was Barsad, and he had a look that indicated he had news to share.

"She's being held in a hospital," Barsad told Bane reluctantly when he stopped behind Bane's back.

"A hospital? Were her injuries that serious?" Bane asked seriously, getting up from his squatted position, keeping the tin cup in his hand. Bane couldn't fathom how the injuries she sustained on her face during the hostage exchange would require her to maintain a hospital stay for more than several days.

Barsad allowed himself to swallow before he continued on.

"She's being held on suicide watch. She tried killing herself," Barsad said before immediately dropping his gaze after the words were out of his mouth.

Bane stared at him. Anger started rising in his chest, clouding his vision. Emotions rising up and constricting his windpipe were making it difficult for him to breath or speak, so he remained silent. He tossed his tin cup down next to the fire, the cup bouncing off cement causing loud 'dings' to permeate against the cement walls, before turning his attention back to Barsad. Bane appeared as if he had expected Barsad to have a tactical plan set up to resolve the situation, as per usual. Bane remained silent, waiting for the follow-through.

"There isn't a clear way to get to her, but it's honestly the safest place for her to be. She's being treated by doctors. It would be best if we waited for them to release her," Barsad continued as if offering a brighter side to the situation.

Bane wasn't having it.

"And when will be, pray tell?" Bane practically bellowed as the emotional dam that made it difficult for him to speak or breath broke free.

Barsad didn't give him a reply, but lifted his eyes up to return his gaze, obviously not having a clear answer for him.

Bane let out a frustrated huff before pacing back and forth a few steps, processing the information and determining the best possible solutions to the situation since Barsad had clearly failed in that regard.

In the end, he knew Barsad was right. Despite the idea of storming a hospital sounding slightly intriguing to Bane, he knew she was being taken care of by medical professionals who were providing her with the medical help she needed that he wouldn't be able to himself.

Bane would just have to wait until she was released from the hospital.

Due to the absence of Myra, who had generally kept him mildly occupied, Bane's efforts at resolving loose ends had become his primary focus; almost obsessively so. He issued orders to have his men follow and bring Selena Kyle to him and kill her if necessary, knowing he had promised John Daggett ages ago that he would take care of her one way or another. Despite Daggett's death, he still felt a moderate level of need to complete the task he promised him. When he did manage to track her down and she was subsequently brought to him, he made an agreement with her that he would cease his plans on killing her if she managed to bring Batman to him down in the underground reflow sewers. She agreed, albeit reluctantly.

Bane and his men were waiting patiently for the arrival of Selena Kyle and Batman in a large amphitheater-like area of the sewers, a large pipe emitting water from the ceiling which allowed water to flow down like a waterfall that created noisy liquid ambient noises. Bane turned and stood on a large metal walkway, looking towards the direction of incoming footsteps indicating Selena Kyle and Batman were near.

"Just a little further," Selena Kyle said, guiding Batman through a very rusty metal gate. Once through, it slammed shut behind him. Batman turned to Selena Kyle slowly, betrayal causing his body to go stiff.

"I had to find a way to stop them trying to kill me," Selena Kyle said sadly, apologetically.

"You made a serious mistake," Batman said, staring at her between the bars of the caged door that created a barrier between him and Selena Kyle, caging him in like an animal.

"Not as serious as yours, I fear," Bane said slowly, almost lazily, with a hint of amusement. Bane was holding onto the upper straps of his military vest, standing on the opposite side of the metal walkway, looking amusedly at Batman.

"Bane," Batman let out quickly.

"Let's not stand on ceremony here…Mr. Wayne," Bane said. Selena Kyle looked surprised, inching forward upon the realization that Batman was, in fact, Bruce Wayne. She grabbed hold of the metal cage door.

Bane and Batman slowly started walking towards each other; Bane's boots making large metallic clinks against the walkway while Batman's were fainter and softer, indicating the drastic difference in mass between the two. Batman made the first punch at Bane, who simply took it, before Batman started unleashing punches to Bane's chest and his face. Bane seemed absolutely unphased by the assaults.

After allowing Batman to punch him for several seconds, Bane snatched out and grabbed hold of Batman's fist. "Peace has cost you your strength", he said, before he left his eyes roam up and down Batman's body as if he were able to see-through his armor at all of the injuries and chronic ailments that plagued him. "Victory has defeated you", Bane continued, chastising him.

Bane used the fist he was holding onto Batman to smack him back in the face, who responded by grunting sharply. Bane put his hands on the metal rails that framed the walkway, leveraging it to support his body while he started kicking Batman, who started retreating backwards. The pair engaged in several more punches, before Bane gave Batman a solid kick that sent Batman flying over the metal railway, down below.

Bane followed him by climbing easily down a long metal chain that hung from the ceiling. He grabbed Batman by the throat easily, slamming him against a metal support beam. Batman attempted to defend himself by unleashing a furious assault against Bane. It appeared Batman had received somewhat of an upper hand, as his fists repeatedly made contact with Bane's head.

Several of Bane's men, including Barsad, watched from an uncomfortable distance, knowing better than to intervene and that Bane was more than capable of ending the fight at a moment's notice and that he appeared to simply be playing with Batman, giving him false hope by allowing him to punch him. Bane let him do it several more moments before he swung around, unleashing a giant smash against Batman's face like a whirlwind, emitting a sound through his mask that sounded like a speeding train. He then kicked Batman in the side, who had fell down onto his knees.

Batman tried retreating onto the metal walkway, though he was no match for Bane. He eventually was able to retreat far enough, grabbing at his belt and throwing smoke bombs at Bane. Bane appeared amused.

"Theatricality and deception – powerful agents to the uninitiated. But we are initiated, aren't we, Bruce?" Bane mused. "Members of the League of Shadows," Bane continued, as if he found this information extremely amusing.

Batman made several more attempts at attacking Bane, before Bane gave Batman a ferocious gut punch.

"And you betrayed us," Bane said viciously. He lifted Batman up by the throat, walking him backwards as Batman's feet danged off of the floor.

"Us?" Batman said. "You were excommunicated by a gang of psychopaths," Batman managed to breath out. Bane pondered these words that Batman delivered briefly, as if reflecting on Batman's interpretation of the events that had unfolded, before his punches became severe and passionate against Batman's side, the sounds emitting through his grill highlighting the severity of his punches. Batman fell backward.

"I am the league of shadows!" Bane shouted, sounding pleased. "And I am here to fulfill Ra's Al Ghul's Destiny!" Bane continued, outspreading his arms as he said this, the sound of water in the background also spraying against them. Batman yelled as he started charging at Bane. He catches Bane by the middle, forcing Bane back, causing Bane to stumble and fall on his back.

Batman started punching Bane who was still on the ground, before Bane grabs hold of Batman's head and gives him a head smash, forcing him backwards.

"You fight like a younger man!" Bane goaded. "Nothing held back," Bane said, strain in his voice as he eased himself back up off the ground, letting out an exerted sigh. "Admirable, but mistaken," Bane said, almost sadly.

Batman clicks something at his belt. The lights go out in the underground sewer amphitheater.

"Oh, you think darkness is your ally?" Bane asked, his eyes adjusting immediately to the dark. "But you merely adopted the dark. I was born in it. Molded by it. I didn't see the light until I was already a man. By then, it was nothing to me but blinding." As Bane said this, he snatched out and grabbed Batman by the throat. "The shadows betray you because they belong to me!" Bane barked, clearly in his element. Emboldened.

Batman fell backwards against the ground. Bane sauntered up to him, leaning down and holding Batman's head down as he started delivering ferocious punches to the side of his face, the crushing sound of Batman's mask permeating into the area.

Batman lay limp. "I will show you where I made my home whilst preparing to bring justice. Then, I will break you," Bane said as if he were toying him. One of Bane's men tossed him a transmitter device. Bane snatched it and pressed a button. A string of small explosions traveled up the walls of the large amphitheater, traveling all the way up to the ceiling where a massive explosion took place. Cement ceiling and wall started crumbling down around them, one of the armory's ground vehicles crashing to the floor in rubble.

"Your precious armory! Gratefully accepted. We will need it," Bane said as if he were reasoning with Batman. Bane's men started climbing up to the surface with hook-shot ropes, immediately rummaging through all of the militarized equipment to be used for their benefit.

This seemed to be Batman's tipping point; it was too much for him to witness someone like Bane take ownership of all of those resources and weaponry. He started getting up.

"Ah, yes!" Bane shouted. "I was wondering what would break first!" Bane shouted excitedly.

Batman charged him with a yell. Bane deflected it easy, punching him to the ground.

"Your spirit…" he said, bending down to lift Batman bodily up over his head "…or your body!"

As he said this, he brought Batman's body down against his knee, snapping his back in half, bones crunching.

Several of Bane's men inched forward to get a better look at the spectacle. Bane reached forward and snatched the broken mask that Batman wore, walking away from his body and analyzing it briefly before tossing it aside casually, his task completed. Several of Bane's men immediately rushed forward and hauled Batman's body up and away, his final destination being 'the Pit'.

Author: PLEASE don't forget to review! ***If no one reviews, I'm assuming no one is enjoying it.*** I also love constructive feedback; were there things you didn't like? wanted to see more of? Let me know!