Chapter Eleven: Tempus Fugit
Bane was unaware of all the happenings in the temperature-controlled room after he had been secured to the hospital bed.
His mind was elsewhere, far away, lost in a memory.
Remembering.
The dominating sound in the room was Blake continuing to pump Bruce's chest and fill his dead lungs with his hot exhale.
Compress.
Blow.
Press.
Push.
Throughout it all, Bruce remained dead.
The Morgue had been contacted by one of the many rubbernecking techs.
Gynecologist Doctor Seth Howard was standing at the nurse's station and nearly dropped his BLT as the morgue attendants moved swiftly through the halls with the covered gurney.
"This Detective; is one of the many reasons I need to move these two high-risk patients to somewhere more secure," Dr. Steele said to Blake, looking over at the doorway when the morgue attendants pushed past Officer Peechborn as they wheeled the gurney that was draped with a thick mylar sheet.
"What would you have of me?" Blake asked, his voice ragged, his breath coming hard, his hands shook as they hovered over Bruce's chest, his palms ready to compress the sternum.
"Detective, he's dead, let them take him away," Dr. Steele stated, attempting to sound compassionate as he gestured towards the morgue staff, their scrubs were a drab olive-green.
Blake coughed hard before reaching out and pushed Bruce's dead eyelids closed.
"Is that Bruce fucking Wayne?" Officer Peechborn asked shrilly.
Blake shot Officer Peechborn a dark glance, his eyes filled with all he could not outwardly show, his expression wilted any further words from Officer Peechborn's tongue, she quickly found a reason to be anywhere but Bane's room.
"I need somewhere more secure," Dr. Steele reiterated as Bruce's warm, heavy corpse was loaded onto the morgue's gurney, the crew was efficient, the toe tag tied to his big toe with a big, looping bow.
"Where's this secure place doctor, the city is only so big," Blake wearily muttered.
"Arkham," Dr. Steele stated evenly, his expression remaining neutral as Blake whipped his head towards him.
"Excuse me?"
"Arkham, I could keep them safe at Arkham Asylum."
Firmly restrained on the bed, Bane's eyes remained closed, his expression impassive, inside, his mind was far away, at the penthouse in the middle of the city, finding Talia, a priceless bauble amidst the pilfered living space.
"You've come," Talia stated as she sat up straighter on the antique chaise.
"I will always come to where you are, to be at your side," Bane said as he walked towards her, pausing when he saw a still sealed bottle of very expensive champagne on the penthouse's all-glass bar.
Talia watched him open the dark bottle and fill a glass with the glorious bubbles that would make her tongue tingle as it passed through her full lips.
Bane held out the glass to Talia, pulling it just out of reach at the last second.
"Take that off," Bane raggedly demanded as he gestured with the glass at the green blouse she wore.
The corners of Talia's lips lifted the smallest amount as she took an agonizingly slow time in unbuttoning the blouse slow to expose her naked skin, slower to let the fabric slip off her shoulders, down her arms to pool on the fine fabric of the chaise.
Bane took a sharp breath, disrupting the metered rhythm of his breathing apparatus as his eyes drank in the naked skin of Talia's upper chest, his eyes tracing the curves of her full breasts, the darker shade of her nipples which grew firm in their sudden exposure.
Bane slipped out of his jacket before unzipping his vest, he bared his upper body as Talia reclined on the chaise, letting her thighs fall slightly apart, enough that he could see the shape of her intimate center, the silken folds of flesh that hid her feminine opening. His cock twitched in anticipation of filling her wetness, feeling her body cling to him.
"I long for when we are able to bring forth a child," Bane growled as he set the champagne aside and began to unbuckle his belt, popping open the top button before haphazardly loosening his boot's laces and kicking them free.
"We're so close to the end, I don't want to wait any longer," Talia murmured as she leaned back.
"You're certain?" Bane rasped, his words hitching.
"Yes," she whispered, feeling his eyes move to land on her exposed full breasts, the dark pink nipples stiffened further in the penthouse's chilly room air, the heating system in the building no longer functioned.
Talia let her thighs fall further apart as she continued. "Gotham is very nearly just smoldering remains, it is time to cement our future."
Bane didn't care to muster any further rebuttal as he stepped out of his well-worn cargo pants, his cock hanging heavily between his thighs.
There was never enough time to allow for slow exploration of each other's bodies, an overbearing sense of urgency accompanied much of their stolen moments.
The skin of Bane's cock grew taut as his thick length hardened, arteries bulging under the surface, dark blue lines from his heavily active vascular system as he stroked himself harder, his gaze hungrily drinking in her naked center, the soft silken folds slick with her wet wanting.
"Let there be nothing else but this," Talia murmured as she reached out a hand towards him.
Bane closed the short distance towards her, partially kneeling on the chaise between her spread legs, his chest shuddered with his series of ragged exhales as he settled his hands on the inside of her thighs, the skin warm under his palms.
Talia stared up at Bane's naked body, her eyes moving over the scars etched in his broad musculature, she felt a pulse in his hard length as she gripped his thickness, patient as he settled closer to her.
Behind his mask, Bane's tongue darted out to moisten his scarred, dry lips as Talia traced the head of his sensitive cock through her silken folds, teasing irregular circles around her swelling clit.
"Our future begins here," Talia moaned as Bane slid his cock inside her wetness, entering her with incremental slowness.
Bane smoothed a hand up the inside of her thigh, dancing the pads of his fingertips on her bare femininity, spreading her intimate, swollen lips, exposing her further, wanting to see all of her as he filled her.
The brisk air in the penthouse was filled with the combination of their breathless gasps, moans and ragged groans.
The climax of their pleasure seemed to come regretfully swift, their rapid nervous system made every touch electric.
Their time together was never fully satiating, always remaining ravenous.
Talia's full breasts bounced rhythmically as Bane increased his thrusting, plunging with urgency as he chased his deep needs, so much hope in the life they'd create, shared passion in the winding of the their naked limbs and shared exhales as they paved the way for their future under the sun.
In the light.
A strangled, mechanical sound fell from the front of Bane's mask as his pleasure climbed to its peak, his balls pulled up tight to his body, his cock spasming as he shuddered in time with spilling his sticky seed inside of her.
Talia closed her arms tight around his neck as she followed him into the pleasurable abyss, her vaginal walls pulsed around his thickness. Bane groaned as her innermost femininity contracted around his cock that remained sheathed inside her wetness.
The weight of everything still undone returned to encroach on any quiet time they'd take in the aftermath of their lovemaking.
"I desire to linger," Bane rasped as he cupped Talia's jaw, tracing the pad of his thumb around her lips.
She reached up and gripped his wrist, pulling his hand away from her face and pressing her lips to his palm before whispering. "I long for the same but we must hold the line, we draw closer," she added as she rose up and pressed her lips to the front of his mask.
In the present moment, Bane's eyes snapped open from where he was secured to the hospital bed, the chilly air was a welcome relief to his flushed skin, his heart racing from remembering.
He forced himself to slow his breathing rate, count as he measured the air in and out of his lungs.
Bane swept his eyes around the room, noting it was considerably lesser in badge count before he closed his eyes and focused on the tense conversation between Doctor Steele and Detective Blake.
He kept his expression neutral, inside he was pleased to hear the Doctor push for relocation to The Elizabeth Arkham Asylum for the Criminally Insane.
Bane heard the defeat in Blake's voice as he reluctantly agreed to the Doctor's spontaneous demands, pushing patient safety first.
Former Commissioner James Gordon was running as 'The Peacekeeper,' but he'd made it a priority to repair Blackgate Prison, reinforce its walls, encourage swift and due process as well as fund greater patient capacity at Arkham, he was going to keep the peace at all costs, after all, that's what his campaign posters said.
As soon as Blake agreed to the transfer, Doctor Steele directed staff to the order of preparation for Bane and Talia's transfer to Arkham.
He stopped in to check on Talia after Blake set up a handful of trusted officers to ensure Bane was kept safe before he could be transferred.
Doctor Steele was pleased to find Talia alone, her evening vitals had just been taken and recorded, a window of time had opened.
He wanted to lock the door but instead pulled the privacy curtain, he staged a few sterile items on one of the metal stands in case someone unexpectedly dropped down beside him.
"You're awake," he murmured to Talia.
She'd turned her head to look over at him when he walked in, quickly resuming staring at the ceiling that one of the volunteers had decorated with butterfly stickers and fat, green caterpillars.
Roderick pinched Talia's chin and urged her to look at him.
Talia blinked at Dr. Steele, "what happened out there?" she finally asked, her voice scratchy from the recent removal of the breathing tube.
Doctor Steele half-smiled, "I've arranged for you to be moved somewhere safe, somewhere you can heal and return to your rightful place," he murmured.
Curiosity filled Talia's eyes, "where do you see me?"
Doctor Steele leaned closer, licking his lips before he answered, "leading, punishing and enslaving those that decry you as a true goddess on earth, you'll fulfill the hope of a perfect world in your image, a civilization as it should look like."
Talia allowed a small smile to play at her dry lips, the last tech had failed to smear the petroleum jelly on her mouth.
"What is the cost of this support, your demands?" she whispered.
Roderick's lips parted as he let go of her chin and danced his fingertips down the front of her body, pushing the blanket down before resting his hand on her intimate center, moving his palm in circles higher, over the bump from the growing life inside of her.
"Do you know who the father of the child is?"
He didn't wait for an answer as he continued, "did you couple with the masked mongrel?" he spit as he began tugging at her patient gown, staring down at her exposed naked flesh without speaking, barely breathing.
"You want to know the price?" Doctor Steele finally asked as he brought his eyes back to meet hers.
Talia nodded, her throat dry, not entirely trusting her voice to speak.
"I want the latitude to perform real medicine without oversight or intrusion," Roderick murmured as he returned his eyes to her naked center. "I will heal your body, provide you an army and elevate you to great heights as long as I'm given free rein to practice medicine as I see fit, everything supplied without question."
Doctor Steele returned his eyes to Talia's when he laid his hand over her naked center, his palm just barely kissing her nudity. "I want rank, status," he whispered as he closed his hand into a fist before hastily covering up her femininity, "I want a secure position."
"And what of my friend?" Talia asked.
Doctor Steele kept his expression neutral as he spoke, "his body will heal, he will rise back to health and position along with you."
Talia nodded after a few quiet moments, not seeing the deception in Roderick Steele's eyes, not seeing his plans of embalming Bane while his heart still beat, just to see what would happen.
Dr. Steele smiled as he pulled Talia's blanket up to her chest, she reflexively closed her eyes when he leaned down and pressed her lips to the center of her forehead.
"I'll see you soon," he whispered before continuing to direct the staff to the prioritizing of their transfer preparation.
It took some time to get all of the paperwork together and arrange transport to Arkham Asylum.
The transfer itself went without incident.
Doctor Rodrick Steele commandeered the office of the on-staff Neuroanatomist Doctor Maureen Hightower, she was at home recovering after being stabbed by an inmate.
It took some time to get Bane and Talia settled at The Elizabeth Arkham Asylum for the Criminally Insane.
During the transition time, after Bruce's body had been removed from the floor of Bane's hospital room, he'd been transferred to the medical center's morgue.
He had been tagged, bagged and later autopsied according to standard insurance procedures.
Bruce had then been picked up by a driver from the Morning Star Crematorium, a fifteen-minute drive from the medical center with perfect traffic conditions and owned by three generations of the Geranie family.
Jedediah Geranie had immigrated to the country and opened the crematorium in the early-19th century.
His only child, a son, Judah, began working with corpses as soon as he could walk.
Judah's only son, Joseph, continued working in the family business and was the one who unzipped the body bag which encased the dead Bruce Wayne.
The Morning Star crematorium still boasted some of the original stained-glass windows, an effort to make cremation beautiful, the light streaming in was soft as Joseph loaded Bruce's corpse into an oblong carboard box, carefully arranging his dead limbs before putting a cardboard lid over the deceased billionaire.
Jospeh watched the box travel on the slow-moving conveyor belt towards the 1800-degree chamber, destined to become six pounds of ash and pulverized bone.
Bruce's funeral was attended by the masses, so many people paid their respects, all crossing their fingers that they would be benefactors during the reading of the dead billionaire's will.
After Bruce's body had been laid to rest and the Wayne Estate settled, Alfred left Gotham City for Florence, never returning, seeking solace, searching for comfort in the bottom of the glasses of Fernet Brance he'd down nightly at the café on the banks of the Arno.
It never tasted the same.