Disclaimer: Don't own, so don't sue.

A/N1- Another story from my sister...enjoy!

A/N2-Hi there! This is pretty straightforward-you are basically getting what the description promises. I'm sorry if you can't figure out who's talking (because that's a really, REALLY big mistake on my part), but I hope you all enjoy! Please R & R!

Accidentally Starcrossed

I am about to die.

I have envisioned this moment for years, and most of predictions about it have been wrong. I thought I would fall in a haze of bullets, trying to save my city, ensuring its safety with my sacrifice. Instead, I will die in the fire from an exploding space station in an attempt to save the planet, and I have no idea if this will do anything to stop the Thanagarian's attempt to destroy the Earth. It's strangely comforting to know that my actual death will be different from the one I expected-I won't know the instant when I will go down.

But some of my predictions will come true. I will think about Alfred, Dick, Tim, Barbara, and Leslie in my final moments. I will wonder who-if anybody-will continue to carry my heavy mantle and defend Gotham. I will die alone. This has been my greatest expectation throughout all my thoughts on death.

Then, the supreme, bitter, ironic realization comes to me. I will not die by myself, I realize, as machinery comes crashing down around me. Two people, although not in the Watchtower, are trapped in the inferno with me. Kent, being the eternal Boy Scout, is trying to save me. Even though his last message to me ended in static, I know he's forgotten about everything and is now speeding towards the Gobi Desert with the deluded thought that he can get me out of here. Doesn't he realize that if his team fails, saving me will be for nothing? The thought of his stupid and unstoppable selfishness makes me grit my teeth.

My mind suddenly turns on my other companion. And before I can resist, her face climbs before me and envelops my thoughts and visions. The last two years, especially the last three days come to mind. I think about how she changed from that prideful, temperamental princess into a warrior with a heart of gold, royal without a homeland to represent. I remember how she unintentionally managed to charm every single member of the Justice League, until any of us would have jumped off a cliff if she had asked.

And then, three days ago, we began our journey together. For me, it will end here. I hope it ends somewhere better for her.

I think about those intense ocean colored eyes of her, the eyes that can cause people's insides to squirm with only a slight narrow. Her hair, long, jet black, sweeping, a tool essential in creating her proud air and unflappable grace. That joyful smile and painful frown. Those mesmerizing lips.

She was the only person I told about my real plan to stop the Thanagarians. And when I told her, she wanted to find another way. But I did what I always did-the unthinkable. I refused Diana, Wonder Woman, Princess of the Amazons, and I made her frown. I did what I always did to women-I pushed her away, leaving the words I wanted to say unsaid. Now, I can only thing about those silent words.

You are a friend.

The screech of scraping metal fills my ears.

You are one of the best fighters I've ever seen.

The whirring turbo engines outside cause the Watchtower to shake violently.

I wanted to actually kiss you before I left.

The light outside burns hellish orange and red as the tower goes through the atmosphere.

I started trusting you.

Smoke starts erupting from the control panels.

It took too much willpower to walk away from you.

Sweat begins dripping down my cheeks.

I almost wish I would be dying alone; I wouldn't have regrets. All I have are memories of the last three days, and these are the last images my mind will ever dwell on. I already know my last thought. And once again, death is not what I thought it would be.

I am so sorry, Diana.

Some might call immortality a blessing; it is a gift that many people on this planet would kill to possess. The gods intended for this to be an asset when they bestowed this power upon me, but at this moment it feels like the greatest curse I will ever have to endure. The first of my friends has died, the first in a line that will continue throughout many long years. Some might say that I am being too emotional about an event which will be reoccurring. Those who have witnessed death would try to tell me that 'the first is the hardest'-they think I would be able to deal with the grief if it happened multiple times. They would be completely and utterly wrong. The fact that I am never going to see the face of a dear friend again, never hear their voice behind me, and be left with only their cold shell of a body is a heart wrenching, disconcerting thought. It is an 'occurrence' which I am sure I will never embrace. It is just another belief that comes with immortality.

The only thing that popular opinion is right about is that the first death is the hardest. I knew it was going to happen, but the fact that the world has lost a Dark Knight is still difficult to comprehend. He was one of the most constant members of the League-always quietly deadly, and the most solitary figure I had ever seen, with an almost fanatical devotion to his mission. His razor sharp intelligence was only comparable to his extremely high levels of suspicion, which gave the League the surest edge in detecting the plots and analyzing the mindsets of criminals. And despite his cold demeanor, he was one of the League's figureheads, visibly feared yet secretly admired by many of my friends.

At first, I thought that we would only be allies in battle. I never expected us to grow close to each other. Even at this time, I smile when I realize that we, as two intensely stubborn people, would naturally become friends. And that was my next expectation-we would be just friends, like I was with Superman.

But this past year, we really came to know each other. We were actually able to see past our costumes and public facades, and look at our real selves. And the man that I glimpsed in those moments, Gods damn me, I was attracted to.

This affection was self centered, greedy, and completely unlike anything I had ever felt about any man. But the true exhilaration was the fact that we had all the time in the world to battle with each other, both verbally and physically, never letting anything too deep slide out of our mouths.

I would be the one to underestimate time, I think bitterly. The room I'm sitting in feels cavernous, even though most of it is occupied by a medium sized wood desk. I sit behind the piece of furniture, and despite a crystal clear window which reveals the cleanly cut hedges of Wayne Manor's expansive backyard, the only object I can focus on the empty chair propped up in front of me, the chair with black padding on the seat.

It would have been so different if he had made it back. The last three days had driven us to that crucial ledge whose presence neither of us had been willing to acknowledge. We'd been on the brink of ending a flirtation and entering the unknown, daring, potentially catastrophic but intriguing and exiting future of something more.

Because of our duty to save the world from the traitorous Thanagarians, he would have no future, save for one in the underworld. I had waited until it was too late, and now the wondering of, what if?, was going to be trapped in my mind forever.

With what I know right at this moment, I would have jumped off the ledge a long time ago. This death is more that the first death of a close companion-the man I wanted for so long is gone, and I am only left with the consolation that we were so close to getting what I desired. I am only left with myself, and the guilt that will haunt me through immortality.

Note: Chapter One will be up soon, hopefully! Bye!