Two weeks. It had been two weeks since the news of Ben's death came to Brisbane Castle. George wasn't the same, she was quieter, reserved and sad. Sometimes he'd catch her crying when she thought no one could hear her. Unfortunately for her privacy, Bane had become acutely attuned to her every move and emotion. She was overly tired, he knew by the sound of her voice. She was thinking of her brother, he could tell by the way she held her mouth. She needed to eat something but probably wouldn't unless he brought it to her and charmed her into it - well, that was just about always. She hadn't joined the family since the news came, but rather had locked herself up in her bedroom, only allowing Bane access every few days through their shared closet. Watching her pain wasn't as hard as he'd thought it might be. Certainly, he was helpless to bring her brother back... but this wound could heal... and now, selfishly he knew that she had nowhere else to go once her legs was free of its cast. And that brought him more comfort than it should have.

"George?" he called to her through the mahogany door that separated her bedroom from the closet. It was locked tonight, though he'd been able to get through this morning.

"I'm not hungry," she called quietly from the other side, and Bane felt a sinking in his stomach, wondering how long the grief would keep her so isolated.

"Can I come in?" he asked next, just to see her, he told himself. He just needed to see that she was alright.

"I'd rather be alone," came the small but firm answer and Bane let his hand slip away from the doorknob. This was her most common answer lately. Clenching his jaw, Bane felt a rare bit of frustration flare to the surface of his emotions.

"I'll give you three more days of this, George - then that's it," he explained, "You have to come out - you have to keep going."

Silence from the other side of the door.

"George?" he repeated, laying a hand against the wooden barrier, feeling more desperate than was appropriate for a man to be when locked out of his wife's chamber.

"I'm fine," came her reply at last, weak and disheartened but still a response. Bane sighed and rubbed at his tired eyes.

"Goodnight, George," he spoke his customary evening greeting through the door between them, then waited the standard five seconds to see if she's answer. But there was nothing.

Finally giving up for the night, Bane returned to his own bedroom where a fire was going strong in the grate. Partially because the spring weather had turned chilly once more - a light snow covered the mountain despite the lateness in the season. But also partially because Bane was convinced that she was not using the coal that was being delivered to her twice a day to build much of a fire... it was always cold when she opened the door to him... and if his fire was large enough, the warmth might radiate into her room as well.

Idiot, he chastised himself.

Since when did his entire life revolve around the well being of one single other human? Never before this.

"Still nothing?"

Bane turned to find Harry and Mal at the door to his room where it connected with the corridor, both men had their hands shoved into their pockets and gave him pitying looks.

"She'll come around," Bane answered with a shake of his head.

"She will," Mal insisted encouragingly, and Harry nodded. It was odd to see the two not at one another's throats over the past few weeks, as if some accord had been reached between them that neither man had been bothered to inform him of. Whatever it was, it brought peace to Bane's world with it. And with a wife refusing to eat or sleep or leave her room, leaving him to sort through the fact that he was madly in love with someone who had lied to him from the beginning - Bane needed all the peace he could find at that precise moment.

The three men said their good nights, and Bane took his time preparing for bed even after his valet had left for the night. There was something off about George's behavior ever since she'd returned from visiting the Stanley's. Bane wasn't sure what had happened in Hamil... but it was something that made George more skittish, nervous, jumpier. Then again, she'd barely returned to Brisbane Castle before the news had come of Ben's death... he'd burned in a fire at the sanitorium. Apparently, George's brother had a madness that was somehow centered around fire... this being at least the second time he'd tried to start a fatal inferno. Bane wondered if there had been others before, perhaps signs in his childhood... but George would never see it that way. To her, the death of her mother and father were to blame for everything, Ben's madness included. And perhaps that was what had changed her mood so drastically over the last two weeks - she was now the only surviving member of her family.

Rubbing a hand over his face, Bane told himself to leave it until morning and go to bed. He'd given his George an ultimatum, more for his benefit than hers. Three more days and he would be all but removing the doors to her bedroom and taking her out into the sunshine thrown over his shoulder if he had to. With this thought running over and over in his mind to keep him from breaking down the door that very night, Bane drifted into a light sleep... still thinking of George as he did so.

He dreamed of Cora, of George and of staircases that seemed to go on forever.

Later, when asked what had woken him in the early hours of that next morning, Bane would never be able to pin point just what it was. It should've been the smell of smoke as it rolled from under his closet door, or the sounds of Gina screaming, glass smashing... but whatever it was - Bane woke up to find all of these things. A nightmare come to life.

"George!" he shouted, leaping from his bed and bursting into their adjoined closet. His fists pounded against the door, and he could hear her yelling just on the other side. Bluish smoke curled up from the small crack under the door, filling the closet and his lungs with an oddly sweet smelling scent - almost like it was incense burning instead of a house fire.

"George!" he yelled it again, but he didn't wait for an answer this time before putting his shoulder to the door and throwing his entire body's weight against the thing. The lock gave way with a screech, and the door swung open onto a scene of fire and smoke that filled the room. He couldn't barely make out where the bed and the windows were, so think was the smoke. But he could see the flames.

"Help!" George was wailing, still laying on the bed from the sound of her voice.

"George, get up we need to go!" Bane insisted, fighting his way through the heavy screen of smoke in the direction he knew the bed to be.

"Bane! I'm chained up!" he heard her scream - desperate and afraid, like an animal couaght in a trap, "BANE!" she screeched again and he followed the sound to her side, wondering if the household had heard them yet, if anyone would come with help.