After the events in Gotham City, you and your friends are still on the hunt for treasures to steal, as long as the police is occupied with more pressing issues. While the group is looting a building, you come across an unexpected face.
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Bane's grip was awfully tight around your neck and you were a 100% sure, even in his weakened state, this man was able to break it with one simple and swift move. For a split second you thought about ways to free yourself from his hand but another thing you were pretty sure about was, that he'd catch you by your hair. "Seriously? I'm just trying to help you, man", your mouth complained before your brain could actually rate the words coming out of it as a teensy bit inept. Nice. Way to get yourself out of this mess. To be honest, you had never been someone to shut their pie hole when situations required it. Bane's eyes practically shot daggers at you. Stare still. Somewhat furious... but there was something else in them. Something you couldn't quite place. Fear? Pain? Confusion?
Bane was confused. What initially had triggered his reflex to defend himself, that no one could be trusted and everyone was just out to get him... there was nothing of it in your eyes. Assessing your motives, something told him, you meant every word you said. It was odd and frankly he was surprised by himself when he felt the muscles in his arm and hand shift.
You felt his fingers loosen and were able to pull away. Not trying to panic, you breathed in and out. In and out. While rubbing your neck. You could still feel the pressure of his fingers on your skin. If there was one feeling you hated, it was that of being physically restrained or downright inferior. Honestly, you had assumed this was the last time of you being cheeky in a situation like this. He could have hurt you so easily. Now it was your turn to look somewhat confused and you were about to speak when you heard footsteps moving quickly down the stairs in the large hallway of the entrance. One pair halted in the door frame of the room you recently occupied and you turned your head around to see who it was. "You were right, Y/NN. An absolute waste of time and energy. Maybe a couple of pieces of furniture but too big and heavy to actually keep this a short time visit", Cable, who's given name was actually Greg, admitted. Told you so, crossed your mind for a moment but being sassy was not the major priority right now. "Look what I found though...", you uttered and nodded into the direction of the almost lifeless body laying in front of you. Cable not being able to see what you meant, came closer. "Shit! Is that... Bane?" "Yes, and-" "Fuck!", he crossed the rest of the room and came to a halt next to you. "Wow, someone beat him up well", a bemused snicker escaped Cable's lips. "I need your help." Another confused look. "With what?" "We need to get him out of here", matter of factly. "Excuse me?!... No, this... nah", Cable pulled a face and lifted his hands in a defensive motion. "He needs help or he'll die, Greg!" "Sorry doll, but this is too risky for me... getting caught with him... and to be honest... he already looks fucking dead." In any other situation you would have not let his degrading nickname for you slip past. "That's because he's dying, you stupid fuck!", you felt your face getting heated. Cable put on his helmet and shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe it's better that way", it seemed like he thought that now was his turn to sound matter of factly, as he put on his motorcycle gloves. There it was. Your breaking point. The anger rushing from your head through your whole body, had you up in no time, when you both heard a voice yelling his name. It sounded urgent. Maybe someone from the group had turned on police radio and they weren't far. In just one or two seconds more, a whole lot of things happened. Inside your head at least. In milliseconds your mind raced through your memories and replayed moment after moment you had spent together with the group. Things had been nice at the beginning. Nice and simple. You all had had the same goal. Or so you had thought it seemed. Sure, none of you was a saint in all of this but was this group still what you initially had joined it for? Were you all still on the same page? Stealing from the rich and giving to the poor? The last couple of heists had ended pretty violently and you had done nothing to prevent or stop it. You were as guilty as them. Was that still you? What had happened to the girl calling people out on their bullshit? Even physically fighting for people who needed help? Fighting school yard bullies, mobsters, men who couldn't keep their hands to themselves? So much more rushed through your mind. Situation after situation that had you made feel more and more alienated and cut off from the others. Had you overthink and doubt everything you were doing. Into all of this you felt fury pouring in. Was that guy in front of you still that chill dude you'd hooked up with a few times? Right now he was a bit too chill for your taste. If you thought about it, you had never gotten to know any of them, really. Who was to say Greg hadn't been a complete ass before, already? But refusing to help someone who was dying? This was it. "Piss off." "What?" "You heard me right, Greg. Piss off", you almost spit in his face. Another cold shrug of his shoulders and he was gone out the door. A couple of moments later, the sound of engines could be heard and every other second if faded away gradually.
Your eyes fell back to Bane's face. Okay... you knew where to get him, you only needed a plan to get him out of here. Preferably as fast as possible. The sirens of police cars could be heard far in the distance of the city. Turning your gaze from the man's eyes, yours scanned the room yet again. This time for something that could be of use but nothing seemed obviously helpful in your endeavours or trigger an idea. Quickly your feet carried you out of the room, the building and to your motorcycle. Without thinking twice, your hands opened the hatch at the back of the small trailer that was connected to your bike and emptied all the stolen valuables on to the street. So, now you knew how to transport the masked man. Just not how to get him down here. His injury was probably way too severe for him to waste too much strength on carrying his own weight. "Think, think, think!", you said out loud and gave your forehead a few good pats. Again your feet started moving. It had always been like that since you had been a child. Either your feet knew where to lead you or walking helped you to get your brain into motion as well, ideas flooding in. This time they made you pace up and down next to your bike. And you were about to give up on their stimulating support this time and go back inside, when your feet made you trip over something and fall hands first down on the pavement. Looking back at what had caught your two fellas attention, your eyes spotted a rolled up rug. You knew you could always count on them. This morning you had taken the rug from the house of a guy who had the walls of his home plastered with photos of himself. The only face you found was a movie poster from The Big Lebowski right above a cosy sofa with a rug in front of it that tied the room together. You had to take this thing with you just to simply fuck with this wannabe playboy. It had been more of a meta joke to take it but you never thought the sight of a rug could've made you feel inspiration, excitement and relieve. You quickly got up on your feet again.
Bane hadn't expected to see your face ever again when you had left, so he did what this cruel world had made him exceptionally good at. Surviving. He knew his chances were small, certainly non-existent, but if he'd be able to block out the pain, as his mask partly did for him and as he was trained to do in greater detail and intensity all his life, he might could get a few blocks away from here. There he would die in the darkness, hidden from the world, he was sure. Anything was better than being in the hands of the police. Getting thrown in a cage again. As he was about to slip into some kind of trance, to disassociate himself from the pain in his body, he felt something from the outside pulling him back. A physical impulse. And a voice. Muffled. The voice started sounding clearer as he shifted his mind back to reality again, clinging to the pain to guide him back. "Bane!", he opened his eyes to the sound of his name. And there it was again. The face of that girl.
And there he was again. You exhaled deeply with more than some relieve. The moment you had seen him with his eye lids closed, you had feared the worst. Feared? What kind of thought was that? And what was he to you anyway? A terrorist? Scratch that. Someone who was about to die infront of your eyes and you couldn't let that happen, could you? No matter who he was. "I'm really sorry about this...", you apologised in advance for the increase of pain he was going to feel from what you had in mind. You rolled out the rug next to him, fuzzy side down. This way it would function as a poor excuse of a stretcher you could drag across the sleek marble floor and thus be able to get someone his weight out of here. "You've got to help me a bit to get you onto this thing", you explained. For a moment you could see the hesitation in his tense body, the suspicion in his eyes. The sirens of the police cars cut through the silence between the two of you. Definitely closer than before. You held out your hand to grab. "Please...", a whisper. Almost pleading.
Heavy breathing grew heavier as Bane's hand grabbed yours. Luckily you weren't opposed to work heavy physically and nature had you made with a bit of counterweight anyway, so you weren't pulled down by his. Together you managed to get him on the rug, his agitated breathing was the only sign of pain you could read off of him, and you wasted no time to pull on it. It wasn't as easy as you had wished it to be, with all the rubble specking the way out. Tomorrow you'd definitely have sore muscles but that was a ridiculous price you were willing to pay to get both of you out of all of this. Alive. The stairs were the short way but no option, so you played it safe and dragged him down the long wheelchair ramp at the outside. As soon as you reached the back of the trailer and hold out your hand another time, Bane's already held on to it. Either way he had realised how close the cops were now or... no, don't you think like that, Y/N! You scolded yourself while you helped the man who was easily a head taller than you and built like a brick wall into the vehicle. With a few quick movements you fastened the top cover to hide Bane from eventual encounters with the officials and other folk, and hopped onto your bike. A good and precise kick to the starter and you fled the scene.
