Chapter 16
Author: HAPPY NEW YEAR! I'm sorry it took so long to update. It's been a busy crazy time for me! Thank you everyone that reviewed the last chapter! I'd also like to do a huge shout-out to Andrea for assisting with edits! SHE'S AMAZING. AN EDIT MASTER MACHINE. I'm super grateful for her editing prowess :D
I keep forgetting to point out the name of the story: 'Opening Bell'. That's the sound heard in the very first chapter in the Gotham Stock Exchange. 'Opening Bell' could also be used to describe what Bane is doing to Myra (BELL). -ZING- Opening her up out of her introverted 'shell'/'life'/whatev', and other such things :P OoOOoOooOo YAH.
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: 5 days
Myra was considerably reserved following the 'Bane-trying-to-shove-her-into-a-car' incident. While she allowed herself to be led back into the penthouse building by Bane, she did so with moderate reluctance. She peered at him out of the corner of her eye as if she were fully expecting him to retract his sentiments and simply decide he didn't want her after all.
Once they made it into the penthouse suite, Bane immediately beelined into the kitchen to begin conjuring up a meal suitable for Myra's tastes. Myra didn't follow him; she just watched as he marched hastily into the kitchen. To fill the void, she calmly walked to the bedroom and began systematically removing all of her clothes and belongings from the dresser drawers and shoved them into a large duffel bag. She then walked to the entrance of the penthouse suite and calmly set the bag just beside the door as a visual indicator that she fully expected there to be another instance in which Bane would attempt to remove her. When that occurrence were to happen again, she figured, at least she would be fully ready and packed and hopefully less disoriented. She also felt motivated due to the slow swelling of defensiveness over the situation and a desire to protect her feelings from that same level of hurt and rejection she suffered when Bane spew his verbal venom at her. She trudged back into the kitchen to join him when she was done.
As Myra sat down in the kitchen chair and watched him work her thoughts wandered back to the harsh things he said to her. They were so incredibly malicious and alarming. She never imagined words having the capability of making her feel so bad and worthless about herself. It was like suddenly being told of a handicap that she clearly had but had never really noticed or contemplated until it was needlessly pointed out to her with the sole purpose of causing her distress and discomfort. It was decidedly not a pleasant feeling. It was hard not to be self-conscious, frustrated, anxious, and angry pondering it. She wasn't just angry with him; she was also very clearly angry at herself for allowing herself to fall into the situation in the first place. She knew she very clearly failed to assess situations and scenarios that were going to be harmful to her whether that be in the short-term or long-term sense. She knew she needed to do better.
Myra reflexively rubbed her stomach as she thought about her lack of foresight as it pertained to the long-term. She then began to assess the masterful way he was able to manipulate the situation. The ease in which he was able to transition between dishing out such incredibly hurtful sinister things and then almost in the same breath whisper things that were so intimately impactful that it made her feel like she was going to implode. She knew he had a wonderful way of intimately knowing what she wanted to hear. This came with a downside; he very obviously also knew what she desperately didn't want to hear. He had said those things to her in front of the car - those mean, terrible, inexcusable things - knowing they would undoubtedly be incredibly impactful and painful for her. He knew her in a way that made her realize she wasn't able to reciprocate. She had no idea what kind of beautiful or hateful things she could say to him that would have the same level of impact that his words had on her. It made her feel moderately neglectful in a twisted and distorted sense because she felt as if she didn't know Bane as intimately as he seemed to know her as if he had vested the time to ensure he knew her deepest darkest nightmares while she obviously hadn't taken the time to know his.
Was he manipulating her in other ways and she was just too blind to see it? Had she fallen too deep into his snare? Was she blinded by her feelings for him, unable to see reality due to the smokescreen he enveloped her in? Could she break free from those feelings? Could she force herself not to feel those things for him if she concentrated long and hard enough on situations like this - situations that implied she was stuck forever in a loop of love and torment? Could she detach herself from him for fear that she would soon be in too deep like an engulfing all-consuming quicksand that took not only her body but her mind and soul? Could she focus on her anger instead of….No Myra. Don't think about it. Think about hate and anger and ways he has wronged you.
She knew she was transparent to him; as easy to read as one of the novels he devoured in his leisure time. He knew exactly what to say to whip her back into his arms like a yo-yo, even if he saw anger radiating off of her. And for all of the ways he seemed to know her he was still largely a mystery to her. An enigma. She didn't know what drove him, what he was thinking, or the secrets she certainly knew he kept close to his chest. She would often still find herself surprised some days when she looked at him, curious and in awe over the fact that he was even with her. And why? She felt like she had a vague superficial understanding perhaps of why he kept her around, but she knew there were other reasons beyond what she had surmised on her own. She knew they were reasons that he hadn't shared with her and perhaps never would because he wasn't as open or transparent as she was. Or perhaps he felt he didn't need to because he was the one in control of the situation. She had felt a moderate sense of safety and assurance knowing he was in charge of 'them' and that she didn't have to worry or think about the present or future because he seemed to be the one steering the course; but at what cost? When did she relinquish herself over to him? When would she ever regain control? Was she still just a hostage?
She knew with certainty that he would never divulge with her what he really was thinking or planning because she also wasn't 'in the know' or 'part of the club', therefore undeserving of knowing 'these things'. At first she loved this ambiguity; it in some way released a burden off her shoulders of having to deal with the moral responsibility of all of the things he may be planning as it pertained to the 'club' and 'his men', 'Talia', or even herself, like how she willfully neglected the ethics of living in the penthouse suite of a dead man with a known terrorist. Now it just made her feel like a study participant behind a one-way privacy glass window where he was always able to see her while she sat on the other side blind, alone, and confused.
She hated it.
She continued to watch him make a cheese pizza from scratch just for her and just the way she liked it in a luxury kitchen with tools, appliances, and equipment that didn't rightfully or legally belong to them. Bane took liberties with these amenities almost as if he decided one day that they were his now. What other things does he take that don't rightfully belong to him? Does he do this often? Will it catch up to him? Will it catch up to her? Did he take ownership of her, knowing full well she didn't rightfully belong to him or his cause until one day he decided she did, like that pizza pan he was using that was now his pizza pan? Does anyone ever say no to him?
She stared in somewhat of a trance as these thoughts continued to swirl inside her mind. When he finished up and placed the cooked pizza in front of her and took a step back like a chef waiting for an appraisal. She just lifted her chin up to give him a side-eye glance with her lips forming no other shape but a firm line before she turned her head back to stare at the pizza in front of her. She found that she didn't have an appetite despite the rebellious thunder coming from her stomach. After several moments she relented and began eating the pizza tentatively and somewhat reluctantly after Bane's breathing slowly escalated.
It was absolutely delicious.
She hated that.
After Myra ate her last bite, she settled in the kitchen chair in a vegetative state as she idly watched Bane clean up the dishes and the counters from the mess he made crafting the pizza from scratch. Neither of them said anything as he did this. Myra saw Bane's expression take on an almost light-hearted quality as if he were attempting to force calm and passiveness to the situation simply through the use of his eyes and eyebrows. He wasn't successful. Myra's expression turned into a slightly soured furrow-browed look.
Once Bane was completed with his chore, he moved over to stand next to Myra and extended an arm as an invitation for them to proceed out of the kitchen. Myra got up from her chair slowly and perhaps begrudgingly before she started trudging out towards the hallway and towards the master suite. Bane followed closely behind and eyed her, intently focused on her as if she would suddenly disappear.
Myra proceeded to brush her teeth and prepare for bed. She was finished before Bane, as usual, and went to go lie on her side of the bed. She moved herself so that she was as close to the edge of the bed as possible with her back facing his side. She wanted to reduce the risk of him reaching out to touch her. She knew this was passive aggressive but she didn't care. Bane couldn't see the sour expression that continued to occupy Myra's face as he got into bed.
Bane either ignored or didn't notice her obvious attempts at lying on the very edge of the bed. He slid himself closer to her, gently pushing his body up alongside the back of hers to gently spoon her from behind. He brushed his hand over her hair in soft soothing strokes, craning his head up and over to peer down at her to gauge her mood and reaction. She didn't tilt her head to the side to return his gaze but instead closed her eyes as an indicator she simply wanted to go to sleep. Bane slowed down his calming strokes and rested his head down on the pillow next to her before he followed her lead.
The warmth radiating off of his body felt so satisfying, so pleasant, and comforting with his elbow resting gently at her waist so that his arm could curl over her body and extend upward to nestle against her chest. It made her feel like she was being encapsulated and protected by him. It also reminded her how strong and massive he was with each breath he took as his sculpted physique molded and brushed against hers. The airy mechanical rhythmic wheezes of his breathing amplified through his mask exhaling gently against the nape of her neck gave her a combination of goosebumps and the feeling of being coaxed into sleep and passiveness.
She hated it.
She felt like she was being coerced into compliance and passiveness. It was almost as if he thought an appropriate way of handling the matter was by tipping the scale of his 'niceties' into her favor, hoping she would just ignore or forget what he said and move on. Almost as if he didn't really know or care to comprehend how hurtful he was when he said those things to her.
Regardless of his intentions, all she knew was that she couldn't stop fixating on what he had said. Her mind kept spinning around the central theme that he essentially declared her to be a worthless insignificant human being whom no one would mourn if she were to spontaneously combust. It was deeply unsettling and jarring to know how truly mediocre and unimportant her existence was, particularly to someone else.
He declared these things in a way that indicated she should feel profound shame for these glaring holes in her character. And the problem was she did because what he was said was true and she hadn't stopped to realize the truth of it until he pointed it out to her. She had been living blissfully and happily - ignorant. She also had adopted a level of contended pride assuming he thought of her in some sort of elevated light, like she was special or had some sort of unique quality about her that he deemed admirable and desirable.
She didn't have to live like this. No one was forcing her. The only force she ever felt was her internal voice giving her doubt by constantly flashing reasons for why she loved him regardless of what he did or said. What did I say about thinking about that word? Stop. Fight it. Fixate on the negative.
Her eyes opened up in the dark. She blinked once slowly to let her eyes adjust to the darkness before she let her eyes fall down to settle on his arm that was nestled just over her chest and softly cradled between her breasts. Her eyebrows knitted together as she stared down at his hand.
The only desirable attribute that he probably found of any worth was her body. She figured he wanted someone to keep him warm at night. To satiate his sexual hunger. Talia was right. It didn't matter how worthless she was; the more worthless, the better probably. That way it was easier to just go and dump me in the trash when he was done with me. He already knows no one is out there looking for me; he said so himself. Almost as if that fact had been an important detail to him in choosing her as a bedmate. Now she knew why. It's not like she put up much of a fight, either; she knew she probably seemed all too willing and eager to just spread her legs open for him whenever the occasion called for it. Ugh. I'm going to be sick.
It took Myra several hours to finally calm - exhaust - her mind before she eventually fell into a restless sleep.
Time to Neutron Bomb Explosion: 4 days
The following day, Myra stayed in bed well past the time that Bane eventually got up to go do his morning routine. When she did get up out of bed she foraged for a notebook, a pencil, and a book to read. She then immediately navigated to an isolated area of the penthouse where she could find privacy and relative seclusion. She found this spot in the main living room in a lounge chair with a footstool that was set up next to the large viewing windows that had Gotham in full display. She nestled into the chair and began scribbling down her thoughts.
She began making several lists based on her desire to steer her mind into a slightly more pessimistic nature hoping that would give her some strength. The first list was titled, "Things I am good at." The second list had a title that was just simply in the form of a quickly illustrated frowny face presumably to list things she perhaps wasn't so good at or was lacking. She sat there staring at the list of "Things I'm good at", and after searching her brain for several seconds in frustration she moved on to the other list. She knew it would be easier to identify those things since they had already been so eloquently identified for her by Bane.
Job. Career. Friends. Family. Safety net. Life choices. Judge of character. Myra paused after being able to scribble the first seven things on the list without any sort of mental exertion. This made her a little miserable, but she decided to continue regardless. Cooking. Cleaning. Singing. Dancing. Playing chess. Fighting. Arguments. Cutting my own bangs….
Myra's list went on until she almost hit the bottom of the page. She doodled idly at the corner of the notebook before she decided to make the dive into attempting the other list again. She put the pencil down as if she were on the verge of writing something, but she ended up simply doodling a small amorphous blob shape since she was clearly at a loss.
She finally concluded that she should have just left when given the opportunity. 'Missed Opportunities', she added in the small margin of space at the bottom of the frowny-faced list. Why did I put up such a struggle? He was giving me an 'out'. I should have just gotten into that stupid car. She knew she should have realized he was going to remove her sooner or later. She knew it was mildly naive and foolish of her to think otherwise. 'Foresight', she scribbled down in the last available space at the bottom of the frowny-face list on the notepad.
She stopped doodling when she heard movement behind her. Bane approached her from the back of her chair, stopping just at her shoulder. Myra brought her notepad up to her chest to prevent him from seeing what she was doing. She just furrowed her brows and gazed down at the carpet, waiting for him to make the first move.
"What's that you're up to?" Bane asked casually as if he were simply curious to know how she was keeping herself busy.
Myra just put on a mildly sour expression.
"Nothing," she said quietly.
"It didn't look like 'nothing'. May I see it?" he asked politely, his tone sounding faintly like he was about to become a massive bully if she didn't comply with his request.
"No," Myra snapped back quickly, hugging the notepad more firmly against her chest.
Bane just stared at her, his brows slowly knitting together. He then walked around to the front of the chair stopping just where her legs rested on the footstool. He casually leaned down to grab her legs before gently removing them from the footstool. Before taking his seat at the now-unoccupied footstool, he leaned forward to snatch the notepad clean from under her arms.
Myra put up a struggle, grabbing the corners of the notepad and huffing fiercely at him even going so far as to slap at his hands to deter him. But there was no deterring Bane. He just plucked it from her hands like the massive bully Myra knew him to be before he settled down onto the stool with a huff and directed his attention to the list. It wasn't her notebook anymore; it was now his notebook. Typical.
His eyebrows furrowed in concern as he scanned the list quickly. It didn't take long for him to figure out the meaning of the contents. He then looked up at Myra, giving her an annoyed and impatient expression while waving the notebook at her. Myra was ignoring him by pointedly staring out the window to look at the skyscrapers of Gotham.
"You're missing quite a few things from this list, I'm afraid," he said as if in an annoyed and impatient jest, waving it at her in mild irritation before throwing it into her lap.
"That was private," Myra mumbled angrily.
"Was it? I hadn't noticed. Perhaps we should discuss the contents of that list? But first we should address what occurred yesterday," Bane said with a mix of relative calm and determination.
"I'd rather not," Myra replied, clearly agitated.
She knew Bane could be described as being extremely efficient. He was precise, sometimes mildly aggressive, extremely blunt, and driven by military-like standards. There was no frivolity behind his actions. He steered right to the heart of the problem. Given that, she felt like more than ever he was dealing with her like he would any other problem almost as if he were internally running down a list of items he needed 'checking off'. Talk to Myra about how I implied she was a worthless human: Check. She couldn't help but feel mildly annoyed and upset over what she could only perceive to be a clear lack of empathy and instead only his desire to quell the problem. Because, Myra knew, any problem in Bane's world was always dealt with quickly. That was how he functioned. It was semantics regarding what caused the problem. He made her feel as if it were her fault for still being upset about it since he appeared to have already moved on from the event. Why hadn't she?
She also knew that whatever she said to him would be inconsequential to his words and reason. It was painfully obvious from the events that transpired the previous day how much he fully eclipsed her when it came to handling verbal disagreements. What was the point of getting into another one if she already knew who was going to 'win'? He won at everything, and in the rare instance that he didn't win fairly he simply took and claimed whatever he wanted like a giant bully.
Bane regarded her briefly before he responded.
"It's important that we do. Clearly you are still distressed and have demons plaguing your mind," Bane said with mild sympathy while moving his hand to gently cup her kneecap with his hand. Myra swatted it away.
"The only demon plaguing me right now is you. I'd simply prefer not talking about it. You're just going to win anyway. Can we just jump ahead and declare you the victor?" Myra grumbled in agitation.
Myra could already see the conversation laid out. He'd rationalize and insert logic into the conversation in a way that would make her emotions feel less validated. Perhaps he'd tell her what she wanted to hear while making her feel like he was entirely focused on her and her needs. She'd probably even come out in an elevated feeling of bliss without truly addressing the problem. She wasn't even sure what the problem was; the fact that he said those things, or the fact that they were true? It's not like he could take the realization of her failures 'back', either. He couldn't gather up the shitty feeling she was experiencing from the realization that he had judged her based on those failures which she hadn't even thought of as 'failures' until he pointed them out to her and made her aware.
Bane continued to stare at her patiently.
"This isn't about 'winning'. This is about us having a discussion. There is no 'winning' or 'losing' in discussions," Bane said, his eyes roaming over her face.
Myra turned to look at him. The expression she gave him very clearly indicated she thought quite the contrary. She also thought it was typical of him to adopt that mentality since he never experienced the losing side of a 'discussion' and having to submit himself to someone else's logic. He couldn't possibly fathom what she was feeling.
It was also still so fresh, so raw; how could he say those things? What else was he holding back? What else does he think about her? What other things is he going to tell her that will make her feel even worse about herself than she already does? She didn't want to find out; the only way to avoid hurtful things was simply avoiding the topic altogether. She didn't want to bring up each particular component of her failures, analyze it, and be reminded of it. It gave her anxiety just thinking about it. Her anxiety made her feel unloved, unimportant, and unappreciated. It was not a pleasant feeling.
Bane furrowed his brows at her response. The look he was giving her indicated that he thought she was being utterly ridiculous and irrational.
"I can see you're angry. Good. Rage is a fundamental component for discourse," he said.
Myra balked at his comment. Then, very slowly, she got up from the chair and put the notepad down. She then moved to leave. Bane snatched a hand out to her wrist to stop her.
Myra stopped and stood patiently, redirecting her gaze to focus on the floor. She then clenched her fist.
"Please let me go. I'm not going to talk about it with you. I'd prefer to be left alone for a while, if you don't mind," Myra said with forced politeness.
Bane stared at her hard. Myra assumed he simply wasn't going to let her wrist go based on the amount of time he continued to hold it. However, he did eventually let go of her wrist and dropped his hand without another word.
She then exited the room.
He watched her as she sauntered off, presumably in search for another more isolated destination within the penthouse suite since clearly the one she had just claimed had been discovered.
When it was time to eat, Myra of course followed her nose to the smell of cooked food wafting from the kitchen. As she entered the kitchen, she saw Bane was finishing up dishing the food out on two plates. She went to go take her seat at the kitchen table. She opened up the baby magazine that now looked like a crumpled mess due to the amount of time and energy she devoted to it, not caring whether Bane saw her looking at it. In some begrudging, retaliatory, and shameful way, a visual indicator of his annoyance at anything 'baby' might even make her feel some level of satisfaction.
Myra paging through a baby magazine was, of course, not going to get on Bane's nerves. If anything, the sight of it was a mild relief to Bane. It gave him an indicator that she perhaps hadn't lost interest in the prospect of being pregnant, despite the events of the day before. Her pointed silence, however, was unnerving and disheartening.
He served her food which she immediately started digging into. He sat down on his side of the table and stared down at his plate. He then looked up at the spectacle of her eating, seeing her look somewhat at ease as she was doing so. He figured now would be an appropriate time to make another attempt at addressing the white elephant in the room.
"So. Concerning yesterday..." Bane began to say in an almost upbeat fashion, but stopped when he saw Myra pause with her fork in her mouth.
He then saw her take a napkin and begin to gently wipe her mouth before getting up from her chair. Without finishing her food, giving him a look, or saying another word, she left abruptly. She simply sauntered right out of the kitchen.
Bane stared at her leaving. He then turned to look at her unfinished plate of food. He fought back the urge of strong-arming the situation and forcing her to both finish her plate of food and to discuss the matter, but knew that his strong-arm tactics would not be received well in this situation.
He gave out an annoyed grunt, clenching the fork in his hand as he turned his attention back down to his food which looked considerably less appetizing than it did moments prior.
That evening, Bane noticed that she had retreated to a lounging spot in the living room. He decided to give her the space she so desperately seemed to desire, but when it was time for bed he went back into the living room to check on her. He saw that she had placed her book on the coffee table and turned the lights off and seemed to decide to simply sleep in the chair snuggled up in a throw blanket. Alone.
He watched her sleeping for several moments, internally debating whether to attempt to relocate her to the bedroom but decided against it. He went to the bedroom instead and fetched a pillow and blanket before returning to the living room where he promptly claimed the larger couch as his bed for the night, knowing he simply couldn't leave her isolated and alone in the living room due to the prospect of an intruder sneaking in.
Time to Neutron Bomb Explosion: 3 days
When Bane woke up early the following morning, Myra was still fast asleep on the lounge chair. He excused himself and attended other matters in the kitchen while she continued to sleep.
The neutron bomb was set to go off in three days. There was work that needed to be done and unfortunately, he couldn't do it in the penthouse. This required him to call up several of his men who he then stationed just outside the door, giving them strict orders not to enter the premise unless they heard any audible signs of distress. He also appointed several men just outside the building to keep a bird's eye view on the penthouse in an attempt to spot and divert anyone attempting to foolishly scale the building. He did all of this and was out the door before Myra had woken up or realized he was gone. He even prepared her a plate of food that he left on the coffee table.
When Myra did eventually wake up, it was a sluggish affair. She immediately eyeballed the plate of food on the coffee table. Ordinarily the sight of a plate of prepared breakfast foods just for her would bring her a moderate amount of excitement and satisfaction, but all she could fixate on were her own inadequacies. She decided to go make her own breakfast instead in a show of mild rebellion and perhaps proof that she could be self-sufficient when the opportunity arises.
She ended up settling on food that didn't require any cooking or prep, which was a very stale bagel and some dry oatmeal. She drank a healthy portion of orange juice before she then proceeded to reclaim her perch on the lounge chair with a view overlooking Gotham.
When Bane came back later that evening, he found Myra reading peacefully in her lounge chair. She didn't look up from her book to acknowledge him, but instead simply turned the page of her book as if she were deeply distracted by its contents. He observed that she hadn't touched the food he prepared for her, making him slightly concerned and curious to know what it was she ate instead. The dry oatmeal mess and bagel crumbs in the kitchen provided him compelling evidence.
Bane proceeded to prepare dinner. Despite the very aromatic smell coming from the kitchen as well as the very loud declaration from Bane indicating that food was ready for consumption, Myra chose to stay settled in her chair. Bane sat in the kitchen chair for several minutes in hopes that she would join him, but came to the conclusion that she wasn't going to. He ate alone and in silence instead. He left her a plate on the counter in case she decided to come in later and eat, but doubted it very much since it appeared, she developed a newfound preference for scavenging snacks.
Bane went and attended to his business in the master suite before he made his way back to the living room. He noticed the lights were turned off. He went and investigated.
He saw her taking up her same sleeping spot on the lounge chair, clearly still preferring to sleep alone. Bane stared at her in the darkness, experiencing the same indecisiveness of whether he should attempt to relocate her to the bedroom. Considering they only had a handful of nights left together, he didn't want this to be how they would be spent; alone and isolated from each other. He made up his mind.
He ambled up next to her quietly and bent down to gently move his hands under her shoulders and knees. He then smoothly lifted her up from her spot in the lounge chair.
Myra immediately woke up from being shifted in her spot.
She was not pleased.
She instinctively pushed her arms against his chest, writhing and twisting her body like a cat that did not want to be handled or picked up. Bane had no choice but to clumsily let her down onto her feet after her writhing intensified into aggressive shoves and pushes.
She righted herself on her feet, turning around in the darkness to give him a seething indignant glare.
"I was asleep," she said, sounding affronted that he would have the audacity to wake her up.
"I know," Bane replied calmly, ignoring the glare she was directing at him.
"I do not enjoy being woken up," she replied irritably. She knew he was taking her back to bed so he could sleep next to her; to feel and touch her as he nodded off to sleep, thinking only of his comfort and utilizing the only quality of hers worth anything to him. He doesn't even seem to care whether I want to sleep next to him or not. All he cares about is some warm body next to him.
She gave him one last furrowed-brow glare before she bent down to pick up the throw blanket that had fallen on the floor. She then stalked off towards one of the spare guest bedrooms since clearly this spot had been 'compromised'.
The dismissiveness in her glare and the turn of her head as she walked away from him made him stare in silence.
They had such little time left together on this earth, and this is what it had come to.
Bane continued to watch her, fixated on the visual image of her marching away from him. She very clearly wanted nothing to do with him. Hated him for touching her. Hated him for trying to talk with her. Hated him for wanting to be close to her so he could feel her comfort just one more night. But most of all, hated him for saying those things to her and making her feel the way she did.
He knew her anger wasn't just for him. It clearly extended beyond that. He could see that she was angry at herself and the reality of her situation that she had allowed herself to get into. He couldn't tell who she hated more at this moment. That thought outright crushed him.
He clenched his own fists. His frustration was almost unbearable. His inability to explain himself to her was too much. The burden of these feelings inside his head. They were blinding. Enraging. Insufferable. Oppressive. They were constricting his lungs and making his chest feel heavy. They were fogging his brain and vision. They distorted and toyed with his senses. They made him feel disoriented, clumsy, and drunk.
He followed after her sluggishly towards the bedroom. When he made it into the hallway, he slowed down to a snail pace until he simply stopped as if he was suddenly depleted of all energy. He blinked several times in seeming disorientation, his eyes fleetingly looking up to gaze at her ahead in the hallway as he blinked furiously to try and regain focus. Her fists were clearly balled up in annoyance at having been woken up and disturbed by him. At being with him. At words spoken by him.
He turned his head to the right as if to idly inspect the framed art that had decorated the hallway, and then proceeded to look to the left which was just simply a clear undecorated wall. A blank canvas. A clean slate. An open surface. He took several deep breaths as he directed his focus on the large painted wall.
Without another word, he rammed himself head-first into the wall.
Once his head settled several inches into the painted drywall, he removed his head, not even seeming to care to inspect the massive dent left behind before he continued to repeat the process. He brought his large hands up for leverage as he performed the repetitive and aggressive act. Alarming crunches permeated through the hallway from the plaster and wood being splintered, crunched, and broken. It sounded like a wrecking crew pulverizing a wall with a sledgehammer.
This, of course, got Myra's attention. She startled, turning around to detect the source of the unexpected and frightening sounds of destruction erupting behind her. When her eyes spotted Bane and what he was doing her first instinct was pure shock. Then fright. Then panic as she instinctively bolted towards him to grab hold of the vest covering his back. She gave it an aggressive tug in a seemingly futile attempt at stopping him.
"What are you DOING? ARE YOU CRAZY? STOP IT. STOP IT NOW," Myra cried out to him over the sound of carnage.
Whether he noticed her attempt at thwarting the crisis through combined tugging and screaming was a mystery. One thing was for certain, however; he did not stop ramming his head into the wall.
The amount of damage to the wall was devastating. The painted drywall seemed to crumble and fall wherever his head made contact. When he rightfully cleared one section of the wall with dents and craters that reached into the inner wooden 2x4 frame, he simply re-directed himself to the next unscathed section as if he were a man with the sole purpose of tearing down the entire hallway wall.
Myra began punching him after realizing he was too preoccupied with the task of inserting his head into the wall to even notice her. When he also failed to notice her punching fists, she quickly circled around to the front of him. She roamed her hands over his body like she was circling a skittish horse's behind that had a tendency to kick, hoping he could detect where she was physically due to his vision being sporadically obstructed.
She kept circling until she was in front of him. She half expected him to simply ram himself right into her, which of course would pulverize her. When he reeled back and was on the verge of making another dive forward into the wall, she braced herself by squeezing her eyes closed and bringing herself flush against his body in an attempt to minimize the pain and injury she would undoubtedly suffer. She knew her attempts would be similar to trying to brace herself from being struck by a massive bull's head. She took a quick final intake of breath as one final futile preparatory measure.
Time seemed to stand still as she waited for that physical mass to crush her up against the wall like the small, helpless thing she was compared to Bane. She felt her mind racing beyond belief. After one second went by, and then another, she slowly opened her eyes. She saw that he had stopped and slumped forward slightly before letting out a loud aggravated breath, using his hand against part of the wall to help keep him upright. He then used his hands to propel him back away from the wall and Myra who stood between the two.
His eyes slowly dropped to look at her. He studied her for a moment before he slunk down to the ground suddenly as if his energy was all but spent. Myra followed him down to the floor and knelt beside him. She saw he appeared to be on the verge of lying prone along the floor as he adjusted himself so she gently grabbed hold of his head and guided it into her lap. She cradled it as he eased his body into a lazy fetal position on his side, his expression clearly dazed, hurt, and disoriented.
She began picking at pieces of painted wall and plaster that had embedded themselves in his eyebrows and face, her other hand curled around his head gently but firmly to prevent him from moving. She then began gently stroking and massaging his skin. She saw that his eyes were glistening in apparent pain or emotion, the corners of his eyes starting to gather moisture that looked like globules of dew on the verge of plummeting down his cheeks. The sight of him looking so pained and miserable made her heart ache. It made her instinctively deeply regret her behavior the last few days. It suddenly made her feel very petty. What would she do if he were ever seriously injured? If he suddenly no longer existed? That thought made her nauseous.
She was forced to confront the reality of the situation. Regardless of how much she tried, no level of internal toxicity or rage could remove the fact that she loved him, unquestionably. It was like those two feelings existed on a completely separate plane within herself, having no influence whatsoever on the other. This realization made her confusingly remorseful, almost like she was simply surrendering and giving up. Would she always love him no matter what he said or did to her? When was enough? Would she continue to blindly love him even after his abuse escalated into something else? Could he see that in her? Is that why he treated her that way - because he knew he could get away with it and she would still love him regardless? How would she know? She was so mad at him just moments ago but seeing him hurt like he was now and suffering made her anger feel foolish and shallow and instead all she could feel was choking panic and concern. And love. All she could think about was how lost and helpless she would be if he were suddenly gone. It made her realize how little control she had over her feelings for him, despite her attempts at steering her mind to think otherwise. Great. Add that to the ever-expanding list of things I don't have control of.
She plucked a particularly large piece of plaster from his eyebrow and held it out for him to see as if she had just peeled off a particularly large skin flake for him to admire, her tone sounding as if she were lightly chastising him for being out in the sun too long which resulted in a scaly, peely burnt noggin.
"Look at that. Will ya just look at that," she said as if in amazement, giving no real reason for why she was showing him the destruction that riddled his face. She was still very clearly processing the event that had just transpired and was saying and doing things in a way that still very clearly reflected drunken-like disorientation after feeling very real shock. Her ears wouldn't stop ringing almost as if an explosion had suddenly gone off next to them; she even felt the hair over her body stand up from the eruption of goosebumps over her skin.
She held it out in front of his face for several seconds to let him observe it despite the fact that his eyes didn't appear to move or make attempts at focusing on it. She then flicked it away before she continued grooming the rest of his eyebrows and face of small white particles as if that were the most important job on earth while she slowly settled down from shock.
"Promise me you won't ever do something stupid like that again," she finally mumbled out softly after the foggy numbness of shock ebbed.
Bane blinked slowly as he continued to stare at nothing in particular.
"I promise. You did not deserve the cruelty I directed towards you. It was foolish and heartless. I will spear my tongue with a red-hot poker before I say such terrible, mean, nasty things to you again," he mumbled out lethargically as if he were near his breaking point.
Myra knit her brows together as soon as she realized his words and promise wasn't in response to him ever ramming his head into the wall but instead on something else entirely. She wasn't sure how to respond; anger started swelling into her chest but it was soon extinguished by the overriding emotions of sadness, concern, and empathy. Oh, and love of course.
Myra groaned in feigned mild annoyance instead, sweeping more bits of dust off of his face. She traced her fingers along the forehead hardware of his mask, detecting a trace amount of blood leaking from under the hardware.
"Ugh, you're bleeding. Let me go get the first aid quick. Don't move," she said as she gently removed his head from her lap, swept a clean spot on the floor for his head to lie on before gently placing it down. She then hurried into the bathroom and rummaged in the cupboards quickly before making her way back with a small white first aid container and a washcloth. She knelt back down beside him and reclaimed his head by placing it back into her lap comfortably.
Without seeking his approval, she gently unlatched the hardware of his mask to get at the wound beneath the central forehead hardware. Bane just lie passively, his eyes blinking lethargically as she worked to unlatch the hardware of his mask.
"Take a deep breath," she urged him as she kept her hand held firmly over the front of of his mask to keep it flush against his mouth after properly detaching the hardware.
Bane obliged by inhaling deeply from the mask. Myra then removed it and set it down next to her on the floor. Her eyes then went to the small linear wound that ran down his forehead. She wiped at the clotted blood before she grabbed a small alcohol gauze pad and began cleaning it up. Her eyes inspected the rest of his head for other injuries as she dabbed idly. She saw several lumps beginning to form, but nothing else appeared to be bleeding. During the end of this inspection her eyes locked onto his. She saw a considerable amount of moisture begin to coat his eyes possibly due to the sting he was feeling from the alcohol against the wound.
"Quit acting like a baby," Myra teased softly as she continued dabbing the cut on his forehead, knowing she wasn't being cruel and aggressive with her tactics. After several moments she came to realize that the moisture in his eyes wasn't because of physical pain; he was experiencing mental torment. She should have realized a small cut on his head wouldn't cause him distress; he wore a mask that pumped him full of anesthetic that undoubtedly numbed him to most physical pain.
She quickly finished dabbing his wound before putting a large band aid right over it. She then leaned down to kiss the band-aid-covered wound gently with a slight smile on her lips as she did so, feeling like a mother kissing away the hurt of a toddler's wound considering Bane's awkward fetal-lying position and his physical and mental state. She then tenderly reinstated his mask over his face, latching the hardware at the back. She then used the washcloth to dab at his eyes.
"It's okay….please don't cry. It's just a wall. We can get a new one. Or, better yet - we can fix it and cover up the...holes...," Myra whispered into his face, hoping her lighthearted comment would help ease the pain that was radiating off of him like heat in a molten lava field.
She bent her head down further so that her lips made contact with one of his plaster-speckled brows, giving him a gentle kiss before easing her head back to look down at him again.
Bane lay there for several moments, his mask putting out haggard huffs as if he were having trouble breathing before he eventually turned his attention to her with a lazy sideways glance. He focused on her for several seconds before turning his gaze away to simply stare forward at nothing in particular. Myra leaned forward again and planted another gentle kiss over his eye, brushing her fingers over his reddened and swollen-looking face.
"Are you hurt?" Myra asked tentatively.
Myra wasn't sure if he heard her since he didn't reply immediately. It took about 15 seconds for him to generate a response.
"Yes," he said hoarsely.
Myra frowned, running her fingers against his skin, continuing to pick at the small white plaster bits that littered his face.
"Should I go find a doctor?" she offered gently.
Again, he seemed to stare at nothing as he continued to look as if he were focused on his thoughts inwardly. It was another handful of seconds before he gave her a reply.
"No doctor can help me," he whispered regretfully through his mask.
Myra studied him for several moments, frowning. She continued to lean down and provide him with periodic gentle kisses against his skin as if that would simply kiss his hurt away. He eventually closed his eyes, content with the feeling of the comfort she was providing him, ignoring the dull throbbing at the front of his cranium. He instead concentrated on the sweet and lovely feelings Myra was giving him as her hands stroked his face and her lips continued to make quick sweeping pecks as if she needed to frequently re-energize him with healing power only her lips could provide.
"You shouldn't go to sleep if you have a concussion," Myra whispered into his ear, interpreting the closure of his eyelids as an indication that he was drifting off into sleep.
Bane opened his eyes sluggishly at her comment. He brought a hand up to grab her hand tenderly so he could pull it close to his chest. He simply held onto it, squeezing and stroking it and not letting it go. He held it firmly over his heart like a child holding a treasured stuffed animal to their chest as a means of comfort. Myra just watched him while idly stroking his face.
"Why did you try to plant your head into the wall?" Myra asked shyly several moments later after she had time to mentally calm down and evaluate the situation at hand.
Bane didn't respond immediately, his eyes slowly gazing forward with lazy intensity.
"I had an idea in my head that I wished to remove," Bane finally said matter-of-factly.
Myra furrowed her brows, leaning forward over him so that he was forced to make eye contact with her.
"That was stupid. Don't. DO. That. You could have given yourself serious brain damage. Is that what you want?" Myra softly chided, frowning as she glared at him.
Bane stared sideways at her for several moments before he gently closed his eyes again, not issuing a reply to her questions. Myra pursed her lips together when she saw his eyes close in either a show of ignoring her concern or because he was tired and was trying to fall asleep. She used her hands to cup him by the cheeks before bringing her lips close to his ears.
"I told you not to go to sleep. If you've injured your head, you need to stay awake," Myra continued to chide.
Bane's eyes fluttered open at her insistence; a coat of moisture glazed over both of them.
"Then you must keep me awake. Perhaps you'll humor me with a story," he suggested.
His request gave her enough shock to where she froze for several seconds, staring at him intently as if he may perhaps revoke his request because he was only teasing. He didn't.
"Uh..hm. Er….uh…." Myra said, trying to decide on a story. She knew she was rubbish at telling stories. So, she decided to make one up instead.
"There once….was…..a brilliant and beautiful…..trading….analyst….intern who worked at a local Stock exchange. One day during what was otherwise a normal business day, a huge and humongous gorilla-man thug waltzed in looking to start some trouble for no good reason, it seemed. He acted like a brute, and boy was he scary looking," Myra began, stroking his cheek under his eyes with the side of her finger as she began her story.
"This celestial vixen woman intern with beauty and whit rivaled by no one saw this scary gorilla man walk in thrashing about like a big dumb hairy animal. She used her womanly wiles to convince him that he was being a huge idiot and should stop causing such a scene," Myra continued. She saw Bane's eyes begin to drift off again, not focusing on anything in particular but he still seemed mildly engaged from the mild periodic pressure he was applying to her hand whenever she was clearly referencing the fictional representation of him within the story.
"Instead of seeing reason in her words, he snatched her - KIDNAPPED HER! - like King Kong himself snatching the beautiful damsel in distress. He ran away with her in his arms, using his massive strength to climb up the side of the building to the very tippy-top of a tall massive penthouse building where he deposited the woman. He imprisoned her, not letting anyone near her, shouting and bellowing like a massive animal-idiot, periodically pounding his chest when he got angry which caused loud "Boom boom boom" noises to be heard throughout the city. It was quite the spectacle," Myra continued. She saw Bane's eyes begin to faintly crinkle at the corners.
"The beautiful vixen used her cunning and….means of persuasion to convince him that he should stop acting like such a huge brainless animal buffoon because he certainly wasn't impressing anyone; especially her. He eventually agreed with her because he could see she clearly was basically a Greek goddess who knew better than he did and decided to let her go," Myra said, pausing as if she were finished with the story and that was that.
Bane turned his head in her lap, adjusting it so he could give her a sideways glance.
"That's the end of the story?" he asked after several moments in case Myra continued, sounding mildly disappointed.
"No, not exactly. Despite him agreeing to let her go, she knew she couldn't leave. She wanted to stay with him. She would have missed his massive gorilla-strength hugs too much and knew she loved him. My mother always said, "Stay close to your loved ones in case they decide to start ramming their head into the wall!". Smart woman, my mother," Myra finished, grinning down at him, bringing her nose down to rest against his cheek hoping to lighten the mood by teasing him in the obvious shadow-portrayal.
Bane just blinked slowly before knitting his brows together in concern.
"Foolish of her to stay. What qualities could she possibly find redeemable or endearing in that beast-man-creature?" Bane asked, sounding mildly put-out.
Myra leaned back and thought for a minute as she stared down at him.
"Oh I'm sure there were lots of reasons why she liked him," she offered.
Bane looked skeptical with his brows still firmly knitted together, his gaze critical.
"Such as?" he asked, challenging her as if he fully expected her to fumble and be unable to produce these 'reasons'.
Myra continued to stare at him before a grin slowly spread across her face, surprised that he seemed to be off-handedly fishing for words of reinforced praise, validation, and encouragement from her. She found this surprising because to her Bane always seemed like an incredibly confident and insightful man who never experienced self-doubt. He didn't need anyone telling him anything to help sway what he thought about himself or of others. He seemed to have an intuitive sense about these things and seemed to know what others thought of him already as if he could read their minds. Any advice or opinions offered to him verbally was simply amusing nonsense that had no impact whatsoever against his own assumptions due to his elevated level of confidence and insight. She realized that perhaps his self-confidence was now simply fractured, similar to the very large hole in the hallway wall. She decided it would be good to humor him to help ease his mind. She realized the task of listing things that this fictional version of her 'loved' about this gorilla-man wasn't too difficult, despite trying to force herself not to think about such things for the past few days. It was almost like the ideas and thoughts were just waiting in excited anticipation, wanting nothing more to spill out of her mouth.
"Well, for starters - she probably appreciated the time he sacrificed for her, despite being a very busy buffoon. She probably never felt like she was ignored or neglected. He always listened to her and did things the way she liked them even if that resulted in a mild inconvenience for him," Myra said.
Bane stared at her expectantly, clearly waiting for her to continue. She obliged.
"She loved how big his hands were compared to hers," Myra said as she gently grabbed his hand in hers and planted her palm against his as a quick visual comparison between the size of their hands. His dwarfed hers; he could easily bend his fingers right over her dainty fingertips.
"She enjoyed how caring and compassionate he could be, despite his tendency for simply smashing and destroying things. He had a soft gooey middle that he protected with a hard, gruff exterior. It was like a Cadbury creme egg; coincidentally, also her favorite candy," Myra grinned.
Bane just blinked slowly. Myra continued.
"She liked the way she felt when she was with him. Despite being a massive gorilla-man buffoon, people listened to him. He had an inherent-like authority about him. She loved being with him when his authority exuded onto those that followed him, even if those instances were rare for her to see since she seldom got to hang around his...friends. She realized people followed and listened to him not just because he was a big massive idiot who could probably smash their brains in, but because he was incredibly smart and passionate," Myra said earnestly.
"She liked that he didn't get upset at her for sometimes stealing his big long-sleeved shirts to wear as pajamas. What she didn't like, though, was when he'd wake her up once a while in the early morning to steal that same shirt right off her back so he could wear it. Maybe he should do the damn laundry more often so that she didn't have to steal his shirts because her shirts were all dirty," Myra said, quickly transitioning into unsolicited advice.
"Speaking of laundry, she liked the way he folded the laundry so perfectly and precisely….," she said, clearly deviating into superficial tendencies.
"She loved his hugs. They were always so strong….and gentle at the same time. He gave the best hugs," she said.
"Oooh. oh! She loved his smile. He had the best smile...she just wished she saw it more often."
"She liked how easy it was for him to pick her up off of the ground and hold her close like she weighed nothing at all."
"She loved the way she could see his veins popping off the side of his head when he was suppressing some sort of opinion to her that he knew would probably piss her off so he shut up about it in instead."
"She loved the sound of his laugh. It was rare, but it made her happy for days after hearing it. She wished she could bottle his laughter up into a mason jar and open it up and hear it when she wasn't feeling well."
Bane brought an arm around to wrap around her back to hold her close, clearly adjusting himself into a more comfortable position as if he were settling in to listen to a good long bedtime story. Myra continued, adjusting her hands to gently feather along his cheeks.
"She loved how baby-soft his cheeks felt," she said.
"She liked how he made sure to keep a full stock of her favorite snacks in the kitchen."
"She loved the way he would grab one of her feet and squeeze it before walking off whenever he passed by her lounging around like a lazy lump."
"She loved how expressive his eyes were," she said, moving her eyes to focus on his. She saw he was settled into a comfortable, relaxed state seemingly perfectly content to just lie right there on the floor and stare at nothing. She eased her body back away from his head as an indicator that it was time to relocate off of the floor, knowing this wasn't the best spot for him to lie down.
"Come on. Let's get up and get you into bed. You can't be comfortable lying on the floor like that," Myra said as she slowly untangled herself from him which she found to be mildly difficult due to the strength he maintained around her as if he were reluctant to let her go. She eventually slithered out of his grip and eased herself up onto her feet so she could bend forward to grab a hold of his arm, tugging on it gently to encourage him to stand on his own, knowing full-well that she was not going to be able to help lift him up even a fraction.
Bane lay unmoving on the floor, the tugging on his arm seeming to go unnoticed by him.
"Will you accompany me?" Bane softly inquired, his request clearly a condition of him moving up off of the floor.
Myra eyed him before giving out an exasperated sigh as if his request was terribly inconvenient for her.
"Yes, fine. Who else do you think is going to help you get into bed? Come on you loaf. Get up," she urged.
Bane let her tug on his arm for several more moments before he started easing himself up off of the ground. He rolled forward with a massive grunt before lifting himself up slowly onto his feet. Myra brought her body closer to his and braced an arm behind his back in an attempt to stabilize him. He draped an arm over the back of her neck and shoulders, taking advantage of the small amount of stabilization she was offering him. They then finally shuffled towards the bedroom.
Myra walked with him to his side of the bed, helping him take off his military vest, brace, and pants so he could slip more comfortably into bed. She pulled the covers back for him to slide in which he did so as if he were extremely arthritic and geriatric. Once he eased into bed, Myra knelt next to him and eyed him, grabbing one of his hands so she could hold it against her lips idly.
"Can I get you anything to drink? Maybe some caffeine to keep you awake so you don't fall asleep? Are you hungry? Do you need ice for your head?" Myra asked, her hand briefly brushing across his forehead while her eyes searched his for any indicator of what it was he needed.
Bane lay there for several moments, simply taking in deep methodical breaths, appearing to either not properly hear or process her questions as his mind seemed to be far off focused on something else.
Myra paused briefly before turning her attention to his far-off gaze. What thought in his mind did he want gone from his head?
"Is there...something wrong?" Myra asked, unsure of how to broach the topic without causing him more distress.
Bane, of course, didn't respond instantaneously. He massaged his fingers into the back of her scalp before he eventually answered.
"I have none of those things either," he breathed out.
Myra was confused.
She leaned forward and knitted her brows together to determine whether she misheard him.
"What? None of what?" she asked.
"A city. Relatives. Family. Individuals who truly care for my well-being…." he breathed out.
Myra felt her eyebrows furrowing, her fingers curling into balled fists. Inwardly, her mind was reeling. She suddenly remembered how upset she had been at him and the reason behind her anger towards him; those words he said. And here he was, wanting to bring it up to her in the most indirect of ways. In a way where he knew she couldn't deny him because he was obviously hurt and suffering. Her eyes roamed over him trying to decide whether planting his head into the wall was a ruse to manipulate her into talking to him. Was his manic episode just an act? No. He can't be THAT crazy...could he?
She forced herself to settle on the fact that it didn't matter why he smashed his head into the wall; if he did do it because he wanted to talk about 'this' and saw that this was the only way he could get her to do it, then that took a moderate level of physical pain and sacrifice on his part. Even if that was slightly stupid and outright manipulative, she couldn't ignore the pains he went through to get to this point. Alternatively, if he did truly suffer a brief manic episode and simply wanted comfort and reassurance through verbal conversation and this was the first thing that came to his mind, who was she to deny him that? He was clearly suffering; those tears in his eyes were real. Despite what she felt about what he had said, seeing him struggle made her want to do whatever she could to ease that suffering even if it meant making allowances and sacrifices on her part.
"That's not true. I care for you, don't I?" Myra asked gently, moving her hand up to gently stroke his cheek.
Bane leaned his head to accept the gentle touch appreciatively, closing his eyes as he did so without giving a verbal reply. Myra watched him and smiled gently, bringing a hand to brush the back of his scalp.
"And while you don't have any family now, there's one currently brewing that should arrive here soon in a half dozen months or so. It will be a family member for both of us since we both appear to be lacking on that front. We can share that accomplishment together," Myra said with a smile as if she had just said the funniest thing in the universe, her strokes becoming rapid in nature to highlight the excitement she felt when she said something she deemed to be funny. She also was hoping for some sort of positive response from him regarding the matter; he always seemed deflated or dismissive when it came to 'baby' talk.
Bane's brows knitted together as he closed his eyes and turned his head away, looking pained and irritated as if he didn't want to discuss that fact. This made Myra's smile falter, her heart clenching at the brief feeling of hope that perhaps he could be as happy as she was about being pregnant, but his physical display dashed that from her mind. Of course, Bane was simply heartbroken. It was upsetting to be reminded of something he would never be able to experience, and no level of enthusiasm displayed by Myra could change that fact. It made him upset at the world for being so cruel and tormenting and wholly unfair.
Myra waited several moments before breaking the uneasy silence.
"Can I get you anything?" Myra offered again, searching his face for any signs of thirst, hunger, or pain that needed alleviating.
Bane whispered a suggestion out more readily than last time.
"You may list more 'reasons' in that story of yours," Bane offered quietly, his face still coated with moderate pain and exhaustion.
Myra tried suppressing the urge to smirk, but couldn't help one corner of her lips twitching upward. She decided to oblige him by getting up off of the floor and crawling into bed right next to him, pushing at him to scoot further into the bed to make room for her. He happily accommodated her. As soon as Myra was settled up next to him with her chin resting on his chest, she continued.
"She loved how strong his heart was, and how it would audibly speed up sometimes when I - she got near," Myra said as she adjusted her ear to settle over his heart, feeling as if each beat was straining against his skin and up into her ear with a loud 'thump thump thump' noise.
"She liked the way his skin felt against her lips," she said before moving her face upward to give his exposed neck a quick peck with her lips before she repositioned her chin.
"She loved the way he talked with his funny accent and the sounds he made and how his voice could sometimes give her goosebumps."
"She loved how deeply sensitive he was sometimes."
"She liked when he gave her some of his food simply because she ate her own food too damn fast."
"I'm also sure she liked the way he would come up behind her when she was wearing only a shirt and underwear to fishhook both of his fingers along the elastic band over her hips to help straighten out the cloth and get rid of any wedgie that may have formed over her butt almost as if he were affronted by the mere presence of said-wedgie. She liked how casual he did this, almost like he was walking up to her to help straighten out a hypothetical tie," Myra said with a soft reminiscent grin.
"She loved how gentle and soft he could be sometimes despite how rough and abrasive he could be other times."
Myra suddenly stopped as if something suddenly took hold of her lungs, causing her to go rigid. She felt her own eyes begin to coat with moisture. It was so sudden that it startled her and left her gasping in confusion. She quickly wiped away the water knowing she was on the verge of bawling her eyes out, unable to deflect her mind away from the very thing she tried so hard not to think; his meanness. His abrasiveness. Towards her.
Bane turned his attention to her after sensing her body going stiff, his expression imploring her for an explanation.
"Why'd you have to say those things...," Myra finally whispered.
Bane gazed at her for several moments before he lifted a hand up to stroke the side of her cheek and cup her ear tenderly.
"I regret it dearly," he said, feeling like his response was wholly inadequate but the heaviness in his chest prevented him from saying more lest he start crumbling and breaking into a thousand pieces. His eyes took on a pained look as he assessed her, heaviness and ache creeping into his chest knowing he was the cause of her tears and anguish.
"You're a huge...bully sometimes," Myra grumbled out as her eyes focused on him for several moments before flickering away.
"That's putting it mildly," Bane said with strained humor, reaching for her face with his hand to massage and coax her into a more comfortable state.
They sat in silence for a few moments before Bane removed his hand from the side of her face. Myra adjusted herself to lie prone alongside him on her side, staring right into his chest as if she were searching and contemplating some deep profound logic. She then spoke again.
"She loved it when, after taking a shower together, he'd gather up her hair and twist it really tight to wring out the water for her. She didn't even mind when he accidentally pulled a few hairs in the process," she said.
"She loved the way he smelled."
"She loved the way he cooked."
"She likes the way he played board games with her."
"She loved how brave he was. Probably the bravest person she knew."
"She loved the color of his eyes."
"She loved his humor and the way he teased. He could probably work on his jokes, though. Sometimes they were terrible. Especially that stupid one about the old man and the elephant...I still don't get it. It's so stupid."
"She thought when he scrunched his eyebrows together when he was either concentrating or just looking really stern was pretty cute."
"She liked the way during certain movies they watched how his eyes would get all dewy and watery almost like he couldn't handle all of the 'feels' of whatever it is they're watching on screen."
"She liked the way he walks which is almost like a strut. Almost like he owns the damn universe. Maybe he does; he certainly acts like it."
"She loved the way he felt inside her when they made love," she teased, rubbing his chest affectionately and letting her fingers linger against his skin.
"She loved how dramatic and theatrical he could get sometimes, almost like he suddenly decided he was acting in a play.'
"She loved how he would speak very delicately, politely, and tender to her despite his tendency to then turn around and speak so abrasively mean and loud to someone else."
"She loved the way his voice would get dramatically high-pitched to mimic her voice when she said or saw something that was super cute even if she knew he was teasing her by doing so."
"She loved the way he would go into detail about a historical fact or detail, even if it probably bored her to tears. He always seemed so passionate about facts, history, and knowledge."
"She loved the way he'd push her to do and be better, either by challenging her or providing her with tools or lessons to help her succeed in her endeavors like recruiting George the tax analyst to teach her tricks of the trade."
"She loved...him," Myra finally finished.
Myra continued to lay there next to him with both of them silent apart from their breathing with hers soft and wispy and his strong, raspy, and mechanical. She fidgeted her hands against his chest for several more moments before she finally put her palms against him to help leverage herself up and away so she could get up. Before Myra properly got up, however, Bane leaned towards her and grabbed her with both of his arms. He then guided her forward to settle her on his chest.
Myra instinctively felt herself giving in to him, settling over him comfortably with her head tucked under the nook of his chin. She settled her hands on his chest, curling her fingers gently against his skin with both of her legs resting between his. Once she was properly settled and adjusted, he grabbed the blanket to tug up over them and then moved both his arms across her back to hold her firmly against his body as if she were one breath away from floating away.
"You shouldn't go to sleep yet…your head is injured…" she protested weakly, the soothing effects of his body making her feel tired and lethargic.
Bane seemed to ignore her protests.
"My head is fine now…I assure you," he said softly but with confidence.
Myra couldn't help but believe his self-diagnosis, his tone both persuasive and convincing. The pull of sleep and comfort was also becoming too much for her as she started feeling drowsy.
"Are you sure…? I don't want to wake up to you in a coma," she mumbled out into his chest.
Bane rubbed his hand along her back reassuringly.
"I promise that won't happen," he said with sincerity.
And with that said, they both went into a comfortable, peaceful sleep.
Author: Wooo sooo cloooose to the neutron bomb explosion! Also, don't forget to review! :D