Chapter 13
Author: Thanks to the lovely louisapallot, Siennax3, Kai, Greenj3llo85, Kat, DOPAndrea, WickedlyMinx, and mynameistolong for your incredibly supportive, encouraging, and motivating reviews. I gathered them all up and stuck 'em in a stew that helped fuel my ol' nogging into finishing this next chapter here. SO ENJOY THE PRODUCT OF YOUR STEW YOU GUYS. :) :) :) (Also, Kai, I SEE YOU PEAKING YOUR HEAD THERE LIKE A BADGER. Well done. That was literally a nice lil' kick in the butt to be like, "ARRGH RIGHT!" I had a moment where I was basically a child wandering around aimlessly in a store, distracted by other shiny things for a moment there. Good thing you badger came along to provide me reinvigorated focus otherwise who knows what would have happened :P KEEP IT UP. -badger sticker- ) (I would also like to personally thanks the lovely Siennax3 for letting me ramble about nonsensical bits that may or may not mostly have to do with Tom Hardy. YOU ARE A GODSEEEENDDDD I DON'T KNOW HOW ELSE I WOULD BE ABLE TO SATISFY MY TOM HARDY/BANE TALKING FIX WITHOUT YOUUUU -passes out-)
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.
Time to Neutron Bomb Explosion: 16 Days
During the middle of the night, Bane woke up to the movement and sound of thrashing. He eased himself forward in bed to survey the source of the thrashing. His eyes quickly diverted to Myra, who seemed to be suffering from a night terror. His brows knitted together in understandable concern; she was not prone to nightmares or physically flailing about while asleep.
Bane reached out to grab and shake her by the shoulders, ignoring the feeble onslaught of punches and blows against his chest. He gave her a gentle but firm shake to wake her up, leaning his head down to hiss into her face.
"Wake up," he wheezed out, giving her one more firm shake.
Myra's eyes shot open to stare up into Bane's concerned face. She stared in the darkness for seconds as her eyes adjusted to the dark, her body as stiff as a wooden plank. Then, after her eyes and mind had ample time to adjust and appraise the situation, she started sobbing.
Bane leaned forward to ensnare her in a gentle embrace, pulling and guiding her body into and over his. He moved a hand to cup the back of her head and began providing her scalp deep strokes with his fingers, moving his head to settle right alongside hers as he began sighing out soothing sounds from his mask directly into her ear.
Myra reached out timidly to ensnare his neck with both of her arms so she could hide her face into his chest. She was breathing as if she couldn't get quite enough oxygen into her lungs, as if on the verge of hyperventilating. She made several attempts at swallowing back her anxieties before she finally stammered into his chest.
"He's going to hurt me…" she sobbed out.
Bane furrowed his brows in concern, circling his arm behind her lower back to support her body up against his. He continued to massage her scalp for several moments before his sleepy brain finally caught up with what she was actually saying. He blinked slow and hard several times, making a hands-free attempt at wiping away the dew that seemed to have settled over his eyes from a combination of sleep and from a drastically different, considerably more emotional reason.
"Who? Who's going to hurt you?" he asked softly as he turned his head back to direct his mask into her ear, concern laced in his tone though in reality he already knew who - or what - it was she was afraid of.
Myra's fingers curled and grasped at the back of his head where his mask interfaced with the base of his skull. She inhaled several sharp breaths through her nose in an obvious attempt at sucking in liquid and mucus that was dripping down her lip.
"The monster…" Myra sobbed out gently, her eyes tightly shut closed.
Bane shut his eyes, taking several deep breaths to steady himself as he focused on calming his mind. He slowly opened his eyes after regaining control, uncupping her head and loosening his grip behind her lower back to look down and appraise her. He wiped away the wet matted hair that coated her face with his fingers so she could see him clearly. She slowly opened her eyes to look up into his.
"Shh...I vow there are no monsters here that can hurt you…that would dare to hurt you..." he soothed into her face.
Myra stared back, her eyelids heavy over her eyes from the moisture and emotional burden that they carried. Her eyes roamed over his face for several moments before they settled on his expressive eyes. The look he gave her pacified her considerably as she uncurled her fingers from behind his head, dragging her hand down the front of his chest before settling it on her own chest as if she were trying to catch her breath.
After seeing Myra visibly settle down, he released her from his arms and sat up to get out of bed. Myra's eyes followed him as he knelt down on the floor next to Myra's side of the bed, making a show of stooping further down to look under the bed.
"Nay. No monsters under the bed…" he said lightheartedly.
He then sat up with a slight groan of exertion before he walked across to the closet, using his hands to jostle around the hung clothing in the closet, being thorough with his search.
"Any monsters here? No...I didn't think so…." Bane eased out, his head moving back and forth to check the corners of the closet.
He marched back to bed, sliding himself under the covers and closer to Myra. Myra was sitting up on the bed with the blanket draped over her head, holding it right under her chin, creating a tent-like protective barrier as her eyes followed him. She got out of bed abruptly after Bane seemed to settle down to get comfortable.
"...I don't want to sleep in here," Myra eased out uncomfortably, grabbing at a pillow and blanket as she did so and turned to leave the bedroom with the long blanket trailing behind her.
Bane stared at her. He had to fight back the urge to question her motives and potential ridiculousness of her request. Instead, he simply got out of bed too. Bane noted her eyes seemed to dart anxiously towards the lone computer chair in the middle of the bedroom, and the destroyed TV; the same furniture and TV he had sat her down in to make her watch the Special Forces being hung on the bridge.
She hurried past them like she was crossing a mote full of alligators. Bane grabbed a pillow for himself before following her out the bedroom, indifferent as to whether she wished for him to join her or not. He found her in the living room, staring at the couch with concern on her face at the missing couch cushion which would undoubtedly make it more difficult and uncomfortable to lie on.
"What happened to the couch cushion?" she asked, confused, anxiety in her voice.
Bane's eyes darted to her. He of course wasn't going to tell her she peed on it; if she didn't or couldn't remember, then it was best to spare her that embarrassment. He moved to the couch and put the one pillow he grabbed in the gap left by the missing cushion.
"I spilled food on it and had it removed. Stay here, I'll fetch more pillows," Bane said before going back to the bedroom.
Instead of going to the bed to fetch the remaining pillows, he marched to one of the windows in the bedroom and propped it open, which required considerable force due to the possibility that they weren't intended to be open or that they hadn't been opened since they were installed. He then went to the computer chair, essentially compressing it down to a size that would allow it to be squeezed through the window with his strength. He ignored the large crunching sounds of destruction as he did this, gathering up the remnants of the chair and marching to the window and chucking it all out with seeming indifference to who may be struck far below by falling debris. He did the same to the destroyed TV, chucking it out the window unceremoniously before wiping his hands and closing the window.
Bane gathered up the pillows and spare blanket on the bed, marching back to the living room. He was greeted to the sight of Myra standing still in front of the couch with a blanket covering her like a giant poncho-tent. He put one more pillow down in the gap on the couch, then one more where his head would go. He eased himself on his back on the couch, ignoring the awkward topography of the missing couch cushion paired with the attempt to fill that gap with the pillows they used for the bedroom. After he adjusted himself, knowing perfectly well he filled up the width of the available couch real estate, he extended an arm to an observant Myra who simply stared and watched his process.
She took his hand tentatively, allowing herself to be guided over him into a prone lying position. Bane ignored the knee that accidentally rammed him in the groin as she made attempts at making herself comfortable over him. After some shuffling, she seemed content and simply let her head fall down onto his chest with her chest resting firmly pressed against his. After several moments, their breathing eventually synced up in unison, making the experience significantly more comfortable and soothing for Myra. She felt her eyes starting to fall, feeling like she was being slowly rocked to sleep by a slow, giant body of water.
Bane tugged the blanket that he had brought up around them, though he let it lie somewhat loose due to the heat that would undoubtedly generate from two bodies sleeping ontop of eachother. He closed his eyes after several moments of fidgeting. He woke up repeatedly throughout the night to Myra's hand either twitching against his skin, abrupt snores due to the angle in which her head was directed downwards against his chest which seemed to disrupt her nasal passage, or her body adjusting over his as she twisted while she slept. He also noted the large glob of saliva that had pooled from her open mouth directly onto his bare chest. He didn't mind any of this, because all of these things told him that she was comfortably and blissfully asleep.
Time to Neutron Bomb Explosion: 14 Days
Several mornings later, Bane was visibly tired from the lack of sleep he had been receiving due to Myra accidentally waking him up intermittently throughout the night. They had relocated back to the bedroom the next day after sleeping on the couch that one night, but Myra seemed perfectly content to just slide over his body like a sloth when they settled in bed, establishing a new habit to simply sleep on top of him since it seemed to suit her. His eyelids drooped over his eyes like heavy curtains, though he didn't seem any less animated in his actions as he prepared breakfast. Bane was conditioned and accustomed to occasionally not receiving a desirable amount of sleep from his time as a mercenary, which tended to work on an erratic schedule.
Myra wasn't as hindered; she seemed awake and lively. With an abundance of questions. Myra sat at the kitchen table while Bane finished preparing their breakfast, arranging and serving it on a plate for each of them. He slyly shoveled extra food onto Myra's plate, knowing she needed all of the food she could get into her system. It was obvious based on her slight squirming that she definitely was ready to unload a barrage of questions at him once he had a chance to sit down. She cupped her hands together and fidgeted, eying him as he walked to the table and set a plate in front of her before moving to his side of the table.
Myra was still experiencing bouts of confusion as it pertained to certain aspects of her situation; her recollection of events, names, and locations was still warped. Everything was slowly falling in place, however, and she was anxious to fill in the gaps. Bane knew she would eventually fill these gaps in regardless of whether he decided to assist with answers; she only had two days left before he had to revoke her dosage of drugs and simply let her mind mend itself. He knew how irritatingly impatient she could get, however, and knew if he didn't provide her with some answers then she would very quickly resort to outright pestering and stalking him.
As Bane took off his mask to begin eating the array of breakfast food, Myra began her questioning.
"We're a couple, right…? Boyfriend? Partner? Married….?" Myra asked quickly, trying to establish their foundation.
Bane's eyes flickered to her between the task of eating his food, providing her with a very modest answer and an equally modest nod.
"Yes," he said simply as his eyes moved back to focus on his food.
Myra's brows furrowed. That didn't precisely answer the question; which of those options was she? She decided it was relevant and plowed forth with her next question.
"How did we meet?" she asked candidly.
Bane had been taking a sip of water when she directed her next question at him, and he made an embarrassing and uncharacteristic show of choking. The question, though simple and innocent in nature, could be provided with an answer that could - would - be horribly misconstrued.
He quickly wiped his lips with a napkin before his eyes shifted to hers cautiously.
"We….met….at the Gotham Stock Exchange," he said, treading carefully.
Myra stared at him, her lips working together in a fine line as she worked this out in her mind.
"Oh. Did we both work there?" she asked.
Bane huffed, feeling the air in his lungs get expelled through his lips as he pondered for a decent answer. He also started to feel the harsh side-effects of pain from not wearing his mask. Bane clenched the edge of the table before reaching quickly for his mask to reinstate it. After properly latching the hardware, he turned to her to address her question.
"You worked there. I was just visiting…" he eased out.
Myra continued to look him over thoughtfully.
"Hmmm. I don't remember working there. What were you visiting there for? Was I introduced to you?" Myra asked, so aggravatingly full of questions.
Bane simply sat and stared for several moments, his breath making loud wheezing sounds through his mask as he concentrated on a judicious answer.
"I believe you had only been working there for several weeks as an intern when I first met you. You worked for John Daggett. I…." Bane started saying, his voice trailing off, his eyes squinting as he frantically tried to produce some viable answer that wasn't simply "I kidnapped you and made you my hostage".
"….I introduced myself to you. I invited you to my...house...office. You seemed to enjoy my company, and I yours, so we entered into a relationship not soon after. We've had our ups and downs, but you've essentially been with me ever since," he finished. He looked up at her quickly to determine whether she was satisfied with that answer.
Myra stared. She stared hard. Her lips began to work together, her eyes beginning to squint. She also began to scrutinize his appearance; she was having a hard time believing that she would be receptive to an invitation to someone's office – especially someone that looked like Bane – and incidentally find out that they had an attraction for each other while conducting business. Something seemed odd about that. Her eyes then began to roam around the large luxury kitchen. She then reflected on the master suite itself; it was undeniably luxurious, having rich amenities that would undoubtedly indicate Bane was wealthy. While she most certainly wouldn't claim to be a 'Gold Digger', she really could think of no other reason why she perhaps would prolong a visit with a man that looked like…Bane...that perhaps was showing an interest or making possible advances towards her, without there being some other underlying attribute that made him desirable. Being rich was really the only thing she could think of, and even that seemed 'odd' since that had never been on the forefront of her mind when she chose a partner.
"You…invited me here to your office? After I just met you at the stock exchange? And I went? For what?" Myra said, purely skeptical and aghast.
Bane diverted his eyes to the table. His eyes began to bulge, nearly popping from their sockets at the interrogation-like nature of questions being directed at him.
"Yes, we conducted...business. I then invited you to my home which you obliged," he said simply.
Myra's head whipped around, taking in her surroundings again before slowly turning back towards him, her expression dubious.
"This is your house?" she asked, sounding somewhat doubtful.
He decided to roll with the notion that the penthouse master suite was 'his' house, figuring that would ease up her scrutiny somewhat.
"Yes. Your boss...came along too. It was a business event. He unfortunately had to leave early, but you were having such a splendid and enjoyable time, you prolonged your visit," Bane eased out.
That answer seemed to make considerably more sense to Myra. Her probing eyes eased up.
"Oh. It was for business then. What kind of business are you involved with, exactly?" Myra asked.
Bane brought a hand up to pinch his fingers over his eyes.
"Project management," Bane replied simply.
Myra forked a mouthful of her food and began to chew it slowly while eyeing him. She then let her eyes roam around her surroundings again. They were extravagant; very obvious, expensive tastes. They were on the top floor of a penthouse building. It was undoubtedly, obnoxiously, expensive. She then moved her eyes back to Bane.
"Your...project management job allows you to afford this kind of place?" Myra asked somewhat suspiciously.
Bane cleared his throat before providing a clear, confident answer.
"Certainly," he said, giving her a steady confident gaze.
Myra's eyes widened somewhat, her mouth forming into a line before she slowly turned her attention back to the food in front of her as an indicator that she was seemingly satisfied with his response. Bane let out a relieved sigh. Her questioning wasn't over quite yet, however.
"How did the event of us becoming a couple actually happen…? Not to imply that you don't seem just…absolutely…charming…. I'm just curious. I can't imagine being overly flirtatious at a business event; were you? You don't strike me as the 'flirty' type either..." Myra gushed out stupidly.
It was a fair question, she told herself, as her eyes roamed over his sinister-looking mask, hardware, and his overall bald, muscular physique.
Bane cleared his throat loudly.
"I believe…you became smitten with me…. after... a rousing game of Scrabble that we had played together," Bane eased out.
He saw Myra's shoot up in interest, her eyes sparkling and focused with a soft smile forming on her lips.
"What? Really?" she asked excitedly.
Bane become emboldened by her apparent enthusiasm.
"Oh yes. My apparent charm and guile knocked your socks off. You swooned. You practically fell right out of your chair, if I recall correctly. You kept giving me doey eyes. You were also very persistent with your affections. I even acted the gentleman and established clear boundaries and politely declined your initial advances towards me," he said with such smooth confidence.
Myra's mouth fell open, gasping loudly, and stood up from her chair abruptly which caused it to fall backwards. She pointed an accusing finger at him.
"I DID NOT," she shouted, shaking her finger at him.
That blatant indignant lie triggered the electrical connections in her brain; they practically sparked in indignation. She quickly covered a hand over her mouth as clarity overtook her features. Then she narrowed her eyes after realizing she had been fed blatant misleading answers up to that point.
"WHAT? Invited me to your 'OFFICE', huh? Is that your interpretation of the events? Really? You kidnapped me. I was your HOSTAGE," Myra fumed, her finger wagging.
She then went into full-throttle.
"Knocked me off of my socks? Oh my gosh. Give me a BREAK. You knocked NO ONE off of their socks, unless you count the people you MAIMED AND KILLED. 'Doey eyes'? Who even says that? I'm pretty sure every time I looked at you for the first week, AT LEAST, was like I was looking at some weird mutated zoo animal who I kind of felt sorry for but was also pretty sure was maybe going to tear off my leg and start drinking my blood from my torn-off stump at any moment," Myra continued, ranting.
Bane's eyes focused on her passively as she expelled her rant. He could also detect one of Myra's infamous sass attacks a mile away, and he knew he was in the eye of the storm.
"You're more upset about how I framed the blossoming of our relationship than you are with the perceived slight of being kidnapped? Hmm. Interesting," Bane said with amusement and a subtle patronizing tone.
Bane's apparent humor in the situation fueled Myra's rant.
"VERY PERSISTENT WITH MY AFFECTIONS"? You are full of shit, sir. FULL. OF. IT. It is practically EXPLODING out of you. That's why you are SO BIG. FROM ALL THE SHIT YOU ARE FULL OF. The only thing I am persistent with is my gag reflex. BLEH. You have such an elevated ego, I'm surprised your head stays on your shoulders and your head doesn't just pop right off and fly upwards straight into space. THAT'S RIGHT. SPACE," Myra continued.
"Good thing you have so much muscle; otherwise that ego-laden head would just fly right off just "SLIGHTLY" flimsier shoulders. You ACTED THE GENTLEMAN and established CLEAR BOUNDARIES? OKAY buddy...right. I'm pretty sure you're the one that practically tore that towel off me and started groping me," Myra let out with an indignant huff.
Bane snapped his head towards her with his brows furrowed, angry and indignant at her perceived lack of chivalry he displayed towards her.
"I certainly did not 'tear the towel off'. Gravity played a hand. And I didn't start 'groping you'. I was curious and explorative with my affections. If I had sensed any bit of hesitation or discomfort on your part, I would have made no moves towards you. Did you look uncomfortable? No….no. No you didn't. Quite the contrary, in fact," Bane finished, having felt the need to defend himself from her distorted recollection of events which framed him to be more than unchivalrous towards her.
"A towel doesn't just FALL OFF. 'Curious and explorative with your affects' has another definition. GROPING," Myra said.
"Well, my 'groping' seemed to win you over quite easily. Maybe a little too easy," he teased, inserting humor back into his tone and appearing to enjoy the banter.
Myra gasped, the insinuation in his tone making her feel like some lusty harlot working the streets who solicits random gropings. Or that she had simply been on some precarious edge and needed only the smallest nudge to start seeking out his affections like some wanton woman with inexplicable desires. She ignored the fact that the latter option was a bit too close to reality for her liking, considering how pathetic the notion seemed in her head. She immediately transitioned into more sass.
"TOO EASY? WHAT? You invaded my privacy. You didn't even KNOCK. You just barged in like a dumb gorilla looking for a BANANA," Myra fumed, taking a moment to inhale and continue her rant.
Oh, how Bane missed Myra's sass attacks. Genuinely. It was something he didn't realize he missed until it was suddenly revoked from his daily routine. His eyes roamed to her passively, completely unaffected by her words and insinuations. He even gave her several slow thoughtful blinks as she proceeded with her verbal assault against his character. He of course couldn't allow her to know how much he perhaps actually enjoyed her banter; it might elevate her ego and embolden her into excessiveness. Though, Bane thought, there was nothing that Myra could do at this moment in time that he would consider excessive; he loved all of it, especially when he very closely came to having none of it ever again.
Bane continued to watch her sassing at him, using her fingers animatedly to drive her points. To tease her, his eyes began to glaze over and he even made a playful show of nodding his head as if he were falling asleep. Myra picked up on this, and grabbed her catheter bag that had been resting on the kitchen counter and brandished it at him like a weapon, swinging it in front of his face under his nose. Bane's eyes widened as he leaned his head back, focusing on the urine bag being swung threateningly under his nose at him. After eyeing the urine bag for several seconds, he stood up from his chair.
"Turn around for me, please," Bane asked calmly over Myra's continued sass attack, moving around behind her with a sigh as he issued his request.
Myra did as he asked, continuing down the trajectory of simply complaining and sassing for sass's sake. Bane brought an arm around and across her chest suddenly to hold her still up against his body while his other hand reached around and fumbled under her pajama and underwear waistband. He began to grope around, stretching his hand down to settle between her legs, arching his body slightly forward as he did this.
This most definitely made Myra shut up, who stilled in confusion at the sudden forward nature of Bane and his hands which were now legitimately 'groping' her, which had been the basis of her sass attack up to that point. Her assumptions were wrong, however, at what his intentions may be as his fumbling fingers finally grabbed hold of the tubing connecting her to the catheter bag. He began tugging at it.
This was, of course, entirely shocking and uncomfortable for Myra. She felt like her lungs were frozen from the uncomfortable tingling friction that came with the unexpected clumsy jerking of the tubing in her urinary tract. In technical terms, it gave her the 'heebie jeebies'. It made her cringe, gasping, frozen in shock for a second before she started flailing and thrashing wildly around at Bane for his lack of tact. She tried squatting down on the ground to move her crotch out of reach of Bane's crass handywork. Bane responded by simply bending further forward and squeezing his arm across her chest tighter to hold her more securely. He then arched his body fully backwards to lift her up off her feet from the ground to prevent her from squatting down again.
"Harbinger...of...sass," Bane muttered into her ear as he continued to work his hands between her legs.
"EHHHHHHHHH," was the only sound Myra could make in reply.
Her flailing hands reached behind her and found the front of his mask as she began pushing and prodding his face away. Bane took the brunt of the abuse since his arms and hands were otherwise preoccupied, but he did make attempts at turning and ducking his head away from her jabbing fingers. He was mostly unsuccessful in that endeavor, closing one eye after she very clearly rammed her finger into his eye.
"Hold still," he demanded in annoyance, his attention focused downward over her shoulder as he continued fumbling for the tubing inserted into her crotch.
Bane's fingers finally grappled onto it firmly, giving one final swift tug and pulled the tubing out of her crotch. He yanked it out of her underwear and pajama pants like he had just unplugged a very dirty shower drain.
He let out a somewhat exhausted huff over her shoulder, holding the tubing outstretched away from him like a dead rat with Myra still held firmly against his chest with his other arm. He let it dangle right in front of her face for several seconds as if he were showing her a prized goose he just shot from the air. Myra grimaced, leaning back against him and glared at it dangling in front of her.
"Time to use the loo like a big girl, hmm?" Bane breathed into her ear in a teasing tone before releasing the hold he had on her with a slight push away from his body before he moved to deposit the catheter contents into a garbage.
"...you can go fuggin use the 'loo' like a big girl..." Myra muttered under her breath as she straightened and fidgeted the front of her pajama shirt down over her waistband, her reign of sass terror clearly not over.
Bane stopped to turn towards her with the catheter bag still in his hands.
"Pardon me? Do you need assistance with the loo?" he asked her pointedly.
Myra just stared, working her lips into a sassy tilt.
"Yes, that would be delightful," she said sassily, calling him out on his bluff knowing full well there was no way he was going to be able to show her how to use the loo 'like a big girl'.
Bane started walking towards her with very determined strides. Myra backed up, her eyes going wide as she outstretched her hands to block him.
"NONONO. I don't need assistance! Don't show me anything!" she quickly rushed out.
Bane stopped, giving her a warning glare, turning back around to go and deposit the catheter bag and tubing in the trash.
"...just….next time, a warning would have been nice," Myra simply muttered, bringing her hand to her crotch to rub the uncomfortable tingling sensation while staring daggers at him.
"There's no sport in that," Bane responded matter-of-factly.
Myra continued to glare.
"Oh okay. I'll make sure to grease myself up next time," Myra fumed.
"That sounds delightful. Please do," Bane said with seriousness and a hint of amused inflection in his voice.
After depositing the catheter bag in the garbage, he rounded on her again and stalked towards her with very determined strides. Myra was still shaken up from the sudden removal of a tube from her crotch. She was caught off guard by his sudden decision to advance on her again. She backed up when she saw the predatory gleam in his eye, however, seeing that he was still in a 'mood' for deviancy. Before she could react, he grabbed hold of her wrist and ripped the medical tape keeping the IV needle connector grounded on her wrist off like he was ripping off a bandaid, and then removed the connector with the needle. He turned her wrist over to inspect it before relinquishing it back over to her. He gathered up all of the tubing and needles in his arms and left Myra in stupefied shock with visible goosebumps sprouting up all over her skin from the ordeal. Myra just stared before letting out a huff, relaxing after getting a sense and feel of being considerably freer without being tethered to tubes and bags.
She continued rubbing the area between her crotch to alleviate the tingling sensation. She stood bow-legged as she did this, grimacing. Bane took notice, marching up behind her. He reached around her and with his own much larger hand, he assisted her. Myra initially started swatting his hand and body away with erratic flails at the intrusion, feeling he certainly 'helped' enough for today but she stopped; his much larger, much stronger, much firmer and more pleasant-feeling fingertips seemed to be doing a better job at grinding out the tingles. His hands did, however, remove one kind of tingling only to replace it with a very different sort.
She just stood, staring down between her legs, somewhat stupefied but not entirely uncomfortable.
After it was obvious Myra was fully pacified and relaxed, Bane removed his hand and stood up straight and went back to store the food leftovers into the kitchen, giving Myra a curious glance as he did so. She just stood there, shuffling on her feet, staring at him as if she had just gone through a wind tunnel based on the look of shock on her face and the windswept nature of her hair and demeanor.
Myra finally made a move to leave the kitchen, shuffling her feet along the floor as she did so. Bane caught up with her. He snatched a handful of fabric from the pajama shirt at her back, pulling it to stop her.
"Nuh uh uh. Time for a bath. You're starting to get a tad ripe. Considering your newfound habit to sleep on top of me, I insist on a bath," Bane declared.
Myra just stopped in her tracks, looking over her shoulder at him. She furrowed her brows at his insult regarding her personal hygiene. While it was true she did feel considerably oily, greasy, and in a desperate need for a shower or bath, she also didn't like to be told what to do in such a derogatory manner. She ground her feet in.
Bane sensed her rising defiance, responding by simply reaching forward to pick her up bodily off the floor and marched her to the bathroom. Myra squirmed considerably, but by this point in their relationship, Bane was an expert squirm-handler. He shoved her into the bathroom, taking a step back to leave and closed the door behind him. He held the door shut so she wouldn't make attempts at leaving. He did hear feeble attempts at pounding on the door and the jiggling of the door handle to open it and non-committal cries for her to be let out, but after several minutes he finally heard the sound of the bathtub water running and Myra humming idly. He propped a large piece of furniture in front of the door to keep her from leaving prematurely and turned to leave to deal with logistic-matters that required much-needed attention from his men.
Time to Neutron Bomb Explosion: 13 Days
The next morning was similar to the previous morning, with Myra sitting at the kitchen dining table while Bane served up breakfast. There were a few differences, however. For one, her injuries were at the point where they were just faint green blotches that peppered her skin. It was also the last day for her to take a dosage of medication from Dr. Crane. Additionally, her recollection and memory were also overtaking her confusion; before, she was confused about everything and just went along with the routine that Bane had provided for her. Now, she was simply confused at certain aspects of things that had transpired during the gaping black hole in her memory that sat like a sagging sack in her mind.
She began questioning some of the daily rituals in her life that appeared to be the 'norm', despite the fact that they didn't feel like her usual 'norm' based on her recollection of events prior to 'the black hole'. It was an odd sensation, like having two very distinct chemicals suddenly coming together to mix and create a new substance. 'She' was the new substance; the combination of what transpired 'before' and 'after'.
She gripped at the napkin in front of her on the kitchen table, her brows knitted together in concern, watching Bane at the stove as he prepared breakfast. Her lips worked together; it was obvious she was working out the courage to say something very uncomfortable regarding the 'black hole' incident.
"Did I...hit my head? Black out?" Myra eased out cautiously; she wanted to know what happened. While she knew she had been unconscious, she couldn't remember why. Did you knock me out? Did you hit me? Choke me? Smother me?
Bane turned towards her with a spatula in his hand, giving her a look over before he turned his attention back to the grill.
"Your head was not injured. You went into some type of shock," Bane said in a casual manner, trying to prematurely de-escalate the situation, sensing the discomfort and questioning in Myra's eyes. He knew what she was thinking.
Myra furrowed her brows, staring down at the table. Shock? Shock can cause me to black out for days?
Been let her stew in her thoughts as he continued preparing breakfast. He prepared her food first, taking it and moving to her to place it in front of her. He gave her slightly hunched back a gentle rub to coax her out of her reverie before he moved back to the grill to finish preparing his own breakfast.
Myra simply stared down at the food. Why is he being so nice? Like nothing happened? Didn't he...didn't he just try to kill me not too long ago? His niceness suddenly made her uncomfortable.
"I...uh….I…." Myra was fumbling verbally. She didn't know what to say. She screwed her eyes to focus and stare at an imperfection in the table.
Bane looked over his shoulder at her, giving her a casual stare as she started struggling with her words.
"I'm….I'm sorry…." she eased out, feeling like she needed to apologize for something. For going behind his back. For disappointing him. For abusing his trust. For causing him visible anger. For inconveniencing him.
Her head snapped up when she heard Bane throw the spatula down on the table with a loud 'CLANK'. He turned from the grill and stormed towards her with several long strides her. She leaned away from him when he stopped directly in front of her, unsure if he meant to push her out of her chair or plow her down. Instead, he knelt down in front of her and grabbed her by the hand and gave it a soft squeeze.
Bane looked at her; he looked at her hard. He had no illusions about what she was apologizing for. While she may have been making an attempt at appearing to apologize for her slight against him by going behind his back to thwart his plans, he knew better. If anything, she was apologizing for being found out and causing him perceived anger. He guided her head to look at him.
"I have no illusions about who you are and what you believe, so don't try and be coy with me. I refuse to accept an apology from you, because it was my own failings that allowed the events to play out as they did and escalate.I should have been keeping a better eye on you. I do expect, however, the same courtesy from you in regards to my own actions and beliefs. Understood?" Bane said.
Myra had lifted her chin up to stare at him as he delivered her this message. She felt very much like she was water, and Bane was oil; two liquids that had a hard time meshing together because they had a very different consistency. Yet, sometimes, on rare occasions, they certainly could be combined to make delicious recipes. She nodded to him that she understood.
Bane mirrored her nod, giving her hands one last gentle stroke before his eyes got diverted to the kitchen table that had an array of medicine jars and containers. He stood up and grabbed several of them, opened them up, took a tablet from each, and then handed them to her without explanation. She took them from his hand, playing with them between her fingers before popping them in her mouth and taking a sip of water. Bane went back to the grill to finish preparing his food after observing her take the medicine.
"Think of us engaging in opposite political views; let us pretend that one of us is a member of an opposing political party of the other. Plenty of relationships thrive with that duality," Bane offered as he flipped food on the grill, sounding lighthearted.
Myra knit her brows together at his over-simplified appraisal of the situation. That certainly was not what it felt like. She was, however, exhausted from thinking about it and simply wanted to move on.
She then eventually let her eyes wander to the bottle of pills that Bane had taken tablets from. She started wondering what the pills were, and focused on the container that Bane took them from. She squinted her eyes to read the labels.
"Pre…natal vitamins? What...aren't those for pregnant women?" Myra scoffed, almost restraining laughter at the prospect of getting her vitamin supplements from such a source.
"Astute observation," Bane said simply, busy with the task in the kitchen.
Myra's eyes began to wander, easing back in her chair. She then began squinting her eyes.
"Why am I taking them then?" she asked skeptically, suddenly feeling very disoriented.
Bane didn't respond, but let his silence fill the void of unanswered questions as he continued focusing on his task at the grill. He made the assumption that she would come to the realization that she was pregnant on her own without needing to be provided with a clear verbal response.
Myra furrowed her brows, her eyes wandering around, feeling incredibly awkward. She brought a hand up to her stomach and began rubbing it.
"When?" she asked, incredulous, feeling like Bane may be teasing her and still unsure if he was being serious.
"Well, I certainly can't pinpoint the exact date of conception…," Bane began to say in a somewhat patronizing tone before Myra cut him off.
"NO. How do you know and I don't? What? WHAT? WHAT. What," Myra began saying, feeling more and more lost and uncomfortable.
"I had a doctor brought up here to check you out while you were unconscious. He's the one that made the discovery and he informed me. Eat your food," Bane turned towards her, pointing the spatula at her plate.
Myra looked down at her food reflexively after being given an abrupt order to eat despite her mind clearly focused on other matters. She worked her mouth in a fine line. This wasn't exactly how she'd imagine it would be when and if she ever discovered she was pregnant. She figured there would be more hugging, more crying, more laughing, more happiness and general fanfare. She also hadn't been sure she wanted to be pregnant, considering her preconceived notions surrounding the challenges of bearing a child from and for a 'warlord'; a mercenary; a terrorist.
She just straight-up felt awkward and misplaced. She certainly wasn't unhappy; she just simply wasn't sure how she should feel. She then realized her undecided, awkward-feeling mindset had more to do with wanting to follow Bane's lead in the matter concerning whether she should be happy or simply indifferent. She looked back up to Bane; or rather, Bane's back as he continued with the chore of preparing food on the grill as if in an almost seeming disinterest to the news. Does…he….even want one? It doesn't seem like it... Although, why would he have gone through the trouble of getting me prenatal vitamins if he didn't want me to keep it?
Myra and Bane had never discussed 'pregnancy'. They didn't even actively discuss contraception, despite the frequency of their 'adult activities'. Myra didn't take 'the pill'; it had a history of causing her depression. Considering her current mental history, that most certainly wrote that method of contraception off the table. Then there was one bout in which Myra encouraged Bane to simply wear a condom. He did obligingly at first, but in one of the very rare times Myra ever heard the man 'whine', he complained of the sensation of being 'strangled' and was very clearly uncomfortable. He dismissed the notion of using a condom after that one experience, giving off the impression that it was wholly unnecessary. Myra, from what she could recollect, just shrugged her shoulders at his decision; if he wanted to deal with the fallout of any unplanned pregnancy, then he could be her guest. He didn't appear to be bothered by the notion, despite the frequency in which they engaged in intercourse.
After months of this routine, they never got pregnant, so Myra just assumed there may be some other underlying reason that was preventing her from getting pregnant. And to be honest, she wasn't that interested in knowing about any possible underlying reasons why because she felt if Bane wanted her know, he would have told her. And for all she knew it could have been her that was the reason for a lack of pregnancy. She had no desire to go get herself checked out simply for a doctor to tell her she couldn't have children. She simply ran with it without question, not wanting to pry and perhaps imply that Bane may be 'sterile' from some injury or the medication he used. Considering his line of work, it didn't seem totally impossible for him to have sustained an injury that affected his reproductive capabilities. She never got the notion he was lacking or faltering in the act itself, however; in fact, he basically performed like a stallion. This led her to just push back any possible questions to the back of her mind, somewhat indifferent about the whole thing.
"What's your view on babies?" Myra finally asked him skeptically.
Bane turned towards her at her question, the elevated nature of his eyebrows indicating he wasn't expecting the question. He turned back to focus on the grill before giving her an answer.
"I have no opinion on babies," he stated, seemingly disinterested.
Myra chewed her lip slowly, thinking about his answer.
"That's not helpful. I want to know what your opinion is…," Myra eased out, slightly embarrassed at the topic, fishing for how she should proceed with the news she just swallowed. She most certainly wasn't going to start jumping around elated if she found out Bane would prefer she go to an abortion clinic and 'take care of it'.
Bane simply shrugged, staring down into the sink.
"It's your body. If you want to birth a child, I wouldn't object. If you wanted to terminate the pregnancy, again; that's your prerogative. I'm just the fumbling gardener who planted the seed," Bane said with slight amusement in his tone, speaking as if downplaying his role, importance, and involvement with the ordeal.
Myra's eyebrows climbed up her forehead. She would hardly consider the word 'fumbling' to describe Bane's actions; in fact, he was always very precise and skilled with just about everything he did, even 'planting seeds'. She also wasn't expecting Bane to have such progressive views on pregnancy. If anything, she considered him to be slightly old-fashioned. She almost got the sense that he was indifferent about the whole ordeal, almost deflecting any and all responsibility off his shoulders in the matter. She was speechless.
In reality, Bane knew full well he wasn't going to be around after the bomb went off. He didn't want her to have a child with the expectation that he would be around to help raise it. He wanted her to have the child because she wanted it; not because he did. He had to actively hold back his feelings on the topic, not wanting to motivate her into keeping it simply because he made any insinuation or slight indicator that he wanted a child. Why would it matter if he wanted one? He wasn't even going to be there when she delivered it. Thinking about all of this also gave him inexplicable aches in his chest, and he preferred just deflecting the decision onto her shoulders instead. He detected the stilling of her body, perhaps detecting his response and reaction as seeming indifference leaning more towards the negative variety. He, of course, was anything but indifferent. He was basically a pressurized vessel on the verge of exploding from the feelings and emotions he was experiencing regarding the matter, but he knew he also had to actively keep it controlled, hidden, and contained.
"Do you...have children?" Myra asked. She suddenly felt very awkward asking the question, but didn't regret asking it. For all she knew, he roamed from city to city, planting his 'seed' before moving on to the next town like Genghis Khan, leaving a trail of babies in his path.
He turned towards her, amusement thick in his facial features based on the creases at the corner of his eyes.
"No," he said simply before turning back to his task.
Myra simply stared, unsure of what to say and still unsure of how she should feel. Bane picked up on her unease.
"Granted, in the event you do desire to keep the child, know that you and the child would be taken care of and provided for, if that's your worry. You would want for nothing," he eased out almost reluctantly, turning to look at her to indicate his sincerity, putting the spatula down on the table.
Myra fidgeted with her hands and her shoulders visibly relaxed.
"You mean I can have one of those fancy strollers? The really really expensive kind?" Myra asked, trying to sound teasing and jovial, but still sounded somewhat sad as if recovering from the perceived slight of his indifference. She did visibly start to warm up to the notion of being pregnant based on his sudden declaration, however.
Bane simply nodded, amused at such a superficial request appeasing her so easily.
"Can I send them to whatever school I want? A really nice, expensive prestigious school?" Myra asked, her voice rising.
Bane continued to simply nod; he saw no reason to deny any of her requests, which all seemed logical to him regardless of any perceived extravagance. Myra spat out several more requests which Bane made no hesitation to agree to, before she transitioned to a different concern.
"Well, I'm glad we have that established...but, to be honest, I'm a bit more concerned about something else," Myra eased out almost reluctantly.
"What's that?" Bane inquired.
"I'm concerned about whether the kid will eventually grow up to be a mercenary too...know what kind of crimes you've committed...will commit…," she confessed somewhat bashfully.
It was obvious she had massive disdain for his profession and plans regarding Gotham; she had even been willing to sacrifice their relationship based on some semblance of hope that would have prevented him from carrying out his plan. She now knew any efforts by her regarding the matter were futile, and if she wanted to be with him, then she had to accept there were certain aspects about him that were out of her control and that she may not like. That still didn't mean she couldn't use words like 'hate' and 'disgust' to describe how she felt about some of the things he did. She also knew she had no control over her feelings for him. It wasn't the most comfortable experience to be in love with someone who you knew did terrible things.
Myra loved Bane; she knew that. She also knew the futility of ever wanting to change aspects of a partner when in a romantic relationship. HOWEVER, if there was just one thing – just one 'itsy bitsy' thing that Myra could change about Bane, it would most definitely be his chosen profession. She knew she was never going to be able to change that aspect about him, so she decided henceforth to be willfully ignorant as it pertained to certain aspects of it if she was ever going to be able to be comfortable being with him.
However, if she were to have a child, there was no way in hell she'd want it to grow up hurting, choking, and killing people; like their father. It would be slightly harder to ignore your own child's involvement in those things because then you became responsible. Questions like, "Why didn't you raise them better? Why didn't you show them there were other paths to follow? Nurture them? Love them? Care for them?" would become painfully frequent.
Bane found her concern incredibly endearing, so he smiled. Bane turned his body around to face her, resting his hips against the kitchen counter casually and crossing his arms over his chest.
"When our child comes along, they are free to follow their mother's ideals without my interferance. They are also free to pursue whatever profession you wish for them. Does that satisfy you?" he said simply.
Myra looked up, startled at the ease in which he agreed to her request. She stared, caught off guard.
"That sounds agreeable," she finally said as if they were drawing up legal paperwork, laying out contingencies and conditions for the birth of their child.
"Did you follow your father's footsteps? Was he a mercenary too?" she asked curiously, deciding she wanted to know a bit more about Bane's family history since it would become her child's family history now, too.
"My mother didn't know who my father was; he was one of the other prisoners. She was raped almost immediately when she was exiled to live in the prison. All I know about him is that he was a rapist, which, advocating for myself, I am not. So no, I didn't follow in his footsteps," Bane said, using the same detached voice he had used prior when talking about his mother.
Myra found this information scandalous. She decided to move on with the conversation.
"What was she like? Your mother," Myra asked gently.
Bane let his eyes drop to the floor as if he were digging into the recesses of his brain to capture the fleeting images he had of his mother. He stared for several moments before answering.
"Soft. Warm. She had a marvelous sense of humor, despite her horrid situation," Bane's eyes drifted back up to Myra's suggestively.
Myra returned his gaze steadily, which looked far-off and contemplative. She gave him a moment to continue to reflect on his mother before she decided to speak again. She decided to tease him when she saw him refocus on her.
"Well, it's a tragedy that none of her humor managed to get passed on to you. You would be more tolerable to be around, I suppose. I would have liked to know what her humor was like," Myra confessed.
Bane smiled at her tease, giving her a meaningful look.
"You already seem to be a master of her style of humor. The similarities between the manner in which you tease me is uncanny. She loved to tease me mercilessly for being too serious for a child," he said affectionately, evocatively.
Myra paused briefly, interpreting what he said for several moments. She even clearly missed the food going into her mouth as she maintained her focus on Bane, the fork scraping against her cheek and leaving a messy food streak. She quickly wiped the food off her face awkwardly. Her face went beat red for a multitude of reasons. Oh great. I remind him of his mother. THAT explains a lot….
Redness overtook Myra's features, all the way to the tips of her ears, as she continued to think about the implications of what Bane said. I mean….normally I'd be a little weirded out if I found out one of the reasons a guy really likes me is because I remind him of his mom…but…...I suppose I'll give him a pass this time though, since he clearly missed some established social norms ….I suppose if one of the reasons why he likes me is because I bring him some type of nostalgia concerning the comfort, humor, and warmth his mom gave him, I suppose there are worse things in the world to be associated with. I don't blame him for wanting to seek out someone that makes him feel those things, even if he did so without truly realizing what it was he was doing. I guess that's...cute...
It was obvious Bane had a constant emotional connection to his mother, despite talking about her rarely. She was probably one of the very real, very genuine emotional connections he had with another individual. She was probably the one responsible for teaching and showing him how to be warm and nurturing. Those attributes don't just 'happen', especially if he grew up in a prison. That was probably what led to the very obvious duality of his nature; the deeply emotional, deeply caring side of him that was nurtured and influenced by his mother paired with the fact that he was molded and shaped by the harsh realities of living and surviving in a prison after his mother died.
The fact that she died when he was still very young must have been extremely polarizing due to the sudden removal of that warmth and comfort stripped from his life. She also immediately snapped back on one of their initial conversations regarding his mother, and how she named him "Bane". At the time, she assumed she was a terrible vindictive mother who hated her situation and named him "Bane" because he brought her pain and misery, and as he stated, 'The bane of her existence'.
Myra realized now, that if she were to name someone "Bane", particularly her own child, mixed with the fact that she did carry a level of humor and sarcasm wherever she went regardless of the situation as evident by her own short time as a hostage, it would have been done so as a term of endearment and love, almost as if to mock the fact that he was anything but the bane of her existence. His mother must have loved him very much, regardless of how he came into the world as well as her being condemned to live in the prison.
"How old were you when she died?" Myra asked softly, redness continuing to deepen into her cheeks at the emotional impact and implications of his previous comment.
"Just a youngster, probably 4 or 5," he mused. "I was forced to grow-up in hell at an early age; no one was there to protect or comfort me," he continued.
Creases formed at the corner of his eyes indicating he was smiling, though Myra knew it was half-hearted and insincere, as if he were pitying himself.
Something dawned on Myra as he shared this information with her. She knew that Talia had lost her own mother at a very early age, probably the same age Bane had lost his, for almost identical reasons. However, Bane had saved and protected Talia. He did this, Myra realized, probably because he knew intimately what it was like to have no one to help fend off and be protected from hell. To have someone to comfort them, to know what it was like to lose a mother to hell and be subject to the brutalities of prison so young. He couldn't tolerate that happening to someone else. He even sacrificed himself for her to escape, injuries to his body and face as well as the mask that he wore permanent reminders of that sacrifice. He did these things selflessly, Myra realized, because he had probably wished more than anything that someone would have done the same for him.
Myra felt like she now had a deeper understanding for why he may have followed Talia so ardently. She was him. She was a reflection of him. He probably developed a guardian-type relationship with her, protecting her.
In reality, unbeknown to Myra and even Bane to some extent, Bane was simply blinded by the innocence he had saved at an early age and unable to see Talia as she was now after slowly being twisted and distorted by an external force - her father. Once Talia left the influence of Bane and the prison, Bane had no control over the effect Talia's father would have on her and how it would shape her as a person. She grew up being guided and manipulated by a father whose only goal in life was to cause rebirth and destruction on a large scale under the umbrella of an ancient organization. She eventually grew to the point where her own selfish endeavors under the guise of revenge required those closest to her to sacrifice themselves, which Bane had agreed to and would do so willingly and without question because he had already done so once before. It was effortless for him at the time when he agreed to sacrifice his life for Talia and her cause.
Myra slowly rose from her chair, abandoning her meal as she approached Bane. She inexplicably had tears forming in her eyes at her realization about Bane's inner workings and past history. She moved to ensnare him with a warm hug, smothering her face into his chest.
Bane had the look of confusion over her reaction to his words, not considering the news he shared with her to be particularly jarring or sentimental. He reciprocated her warm gesture, however, by wrapping an arm around her shoulder while his other hand came up to softly comb his fingers through her hair. He was still slightly confused over her seemingly emotional over-reaction, blaming it perhaps on the hormones of being pregnant, but enjoyed her affections, nonetheless.
As Myra settled into his arms, Bane stared down at the top of her head.
"Tell me about your mother and father," Bane suggested gently.
Myra wrapped her arms around his middle tighter, turning her head to the side so she could speak clearly.
"My mom was super talkative. I don't remember much about her except her talking all of the time. My dad….just….let my mom do all of the talking. He seemed like he was just a passenger along for the ride whenever he was with her," she mused.
Myra paused for several moments as she gathered up more memories before speaking again.
"My dad called me 'RaRa Bean' when I was really upset or out of control, which- I know this may come to you as a shock- happened somewhat frequently as a child. He used to wrap me up in a strong hug and whisper it to me when I was having a fit. It always seemed to work; he didn't usually have endearments for me, so to hear him say "RaRa Bean" made me want to sometimes purposefully get into a fit just to hear him say it." Myra grinned devilishly before continuing.
"He loved to take his finger and his thumb and pretend to steal my nose. He thought he was so clever doing that. I thought he was so clever doing that...stealing my stupid nose," Myra sighed out, leaning back to visually illustrate to Bane with her own thumb and forefinger the process of 'stealing her nose'.
She looked up at Bane's mask, bringing her hands to cup around his mask and starting making imaginary 'fluffing' gestures as if she were pulling on a beard.
"He had this huge big burly beard that covered his face. He also let me stay up with him in his lap and watch late night news with him. My mom hated that. She thought the news was too scary for me to watch," Myra grinned.
"I was so young when they died...I remember it hurting so much to think about them, but now it….it's just a memory. My grandma took care of me longer than they did. Her death wasn't as unexpected; she had cancer. She always joked that my sass was what gave her cancer." Myra grinned wickedly, though Bane could detect an underlying note of sadness as if her grin was an attempt to mask that sadness.
Bane stroked several strands of hair off of her brow.
"That, I can believe. Your sass is toxic," Bane hummed in a gentle tease, stroking her hair before cupping a hand at the back of her neck.
After several moments of both Bane and Myra enjoying the comfort of each other's arms, they eventually made it back to the table to finish their now-cold Breakfast.
Time to Neutron Bomb Explosion: 12 Days
The next morning, Myra found herself kneeling in front of and hunched over the toilet. She vomited into the toilet with unexpected force, her legs sprawled out on either side of the toilet as she performed this task. She held onto the seat with both hands to steady herself from the force of her projectiling. Bane was standing behind her, crouched down and leaning forward to hold her hair out of the way of her vomit loosely in one hand.
Myra groaned, which was amplified from the sound of a stuffy nose, feeling liquids oozing out of her eyes, nose, and mouth. She tried inhaling in a quick sniffle to clear the snotty liquid that was running down the front of her lip. Bane moved her hair into one of his hands, leaned towards the toilet paper dispenser to tear off several sheets. He then leaned forward and reached around to start wiping her face with a bit more force than was necessary, causing Myra to squirm and try to deflect his helping hand. He ignored her attempts as Myra felt her nose being pinched with the toilet paper and thoroughly being squeezed of the liquid that was settled and running down from inside of it. She recoiled again slightly at the awkwardness of someone else cleaning her snot and facial fluids, but thankful he was doing it since her hands were settled on the lid of the toilet.
"This is your fault," Myra finally groaned after feeling her stomach fully emptied.
"My fault?" Bane questioned with concern and indignation.
"YES, your fault. If you hadn't taken me hostage from the Gotham Stock exchange, I wouldn't be here, RIGHT NOW, puking my brains out," Myra groaned with all seriousness, leaning forward from exhaustion.
Lines blossomed around the outer corners of Bane's eyes.
"Oh, I sincerely apologize. I'll try to be more considerate and thoughtful with my future hostage pursuits. Perhaps a brunette next time…?" Bane teased.
Myra turned her head away from the toilet to glare at him suddenly, giving him the biggest stink eye of the universe. As she did this, a dribble of vomit ran down her lip, her eyes moistened and puffy with her nose red from congestion, hair plastered to her sweaty forehead. Bane couldn't recall the last time he saw anyone so beautiful and radiant in his life.
Author: Don't forget to review! You guys have been lovely and amazing; it makes my day when I receive a review! I love hearing what you thought about the chapter, so please do so if you haven't done so already!