Standard disclaimers apply. Made for practice, not profit.

Say nothing

The doors of the cargo elevator opened to the penthouse armory.

Hello. Diana smiled her welcome from the door between the armory and apartment.

Entering, Bruce tipped his chin up a bit. Hi. Face bland, he walked past her, removing the cape.

She placed a hand on his shoulder and gave him a concerned look. You okay?

Um-hum. He made an unconvincing nod.

Diana tilted her head, eyebrow up. What happened?

Bruce took the Kevlar shirt off. Nothing... He looked over his torso in search of overlooked injuries.

Diana inspected his back. All clear. She pat him on the shoulder.

Good. He gave a brisk nod and moved on to refilling the belt's expendables.

Diana joined in, handing him items from supply boxes. She looked at him kindly, patiently. Tell me.

Bruce sighed. All right... „I prevented a theft."

And? Her brow went up, urging him to go on.

„The attacker shot at me, missed." Bruce hesitated. „Shot the woman." His face fell. She didn't make it.

Diana slipped her hand in his and gave it a squeeze. You did everything you could.

He snorted. Lot of good it did...

She frowned, turned him around so they were face to face, caught his eyes and gave him her best stare. You are NOT going to beat yourself over this. Her eyebrows rose. Got it?

Got it. Bruce nodded.

Coming? She tipped her head toward the bedroom.

Not yet. He shook his head.

Diana cupped his jaw and gave Bruce a caring look. May it help.

Thanks. He smiled a little, bashful smile, than pecked her forehead. See you.

With that, she left the armory. He followed soon after, but turned for the gym instead of the bedroom.

Diana heard Bruce punch the dummy, violently if the loud blows were any indication. She spied on him from behind slightly opened doors. If Bruce noticed her presence, he didn't show it, just kept beating the dummy.

One, two, three... Diana counted the lethal blows. She reached seventeen. Seventeen deaths to sate his anger, his need for revenge. It was the only way to stay objective and catch the killer. And make sure he didn't kill the man once he found him.

Having vented the rage, Bruce settled into a crouch, balancing solely on the balls of the feet, legs parallel to the ground. It was a stress position common in endurance training, except he held it for longer than recommended, much longer. Held it until his body shook, breathing became labored and face cramped with suppressed pain.

Diana sighed. She knew from Alfred's stories that Bruce's mother was a Catholic and often took him to church. Christmas midnight mass was a beloved family tradition. But after the fateful night Bruce stopped attending, demanded not to. Though the obsession with guilt and penance thing obviously lingered.

Finally Bruce dropped to his knees, stopping just short of muscle failure. Steadying his breathing, he massaged the strained limbs. An inflammation was the last thing he needed. As Bruce settled into seiza Diana snuck up to him and sat behind him, back to back.

I'm here. She offered the comfort of her presence.

Accepting, Bruce leaned against her. Easing, they quickly harmonized their breathing. He meditated to mourn, and to reaccept his limitations. She meditated to keep him company, to keep an eye on him and not let him sink too far. Eventually she started snoring.

Bruce grinned despite himself. He turned around, taking care to keep her upright. Gathering Diana in his arms, Bruce carried her over to the room.

Diana murmured and gave him a drowsy look. What's happening?

Sleep. He kissed her eyelids and he laid her down. Tucking her in, Bruce brushed his knuckles over her cheek. Sweet dreams.

When he was about to rise, she gripped his arm. Stay.

He clasped his hands around Diana's and his lips touched her knuckles just barely. I'll be back.

Bruce returned from the shower to see her sleeping. His throat tightened from the sight of her, serene and fair in the faint moonlight. With utmost caution he came to her side, careful not to wake her. Propped up in the making-of-Adam pose, he brushed a hair from her face ever so lightly.

Diana stirred and opened her eyes, meeting his.

You are so beautiful. Bruce stared transfixed.

Diana smiled a wide ear-to-ear smile, eyes smiling also. Gently she pushed him onto his back and curled over his chest, her head resting in the crook of his neck.

She pulled him tighter for a second. Night Bruce.

What was once awkward now came to Bruce instinctively and he wrapped his arms around her. Night Diana. He replied with a matching squeeze. Burying his nose in her hair, he planted a soft kiss on her scalp. Love you.

The End