Chapter Four

She wasn't exactly asleep, but no one could call her awake. Later Diana would claim that she could draw up feelings and hazy, blurred sights and sounds by concentrating on the memory of that day very, very hard, but for the moment she might as well have been unconscious. She tossed and turned for an unknown period of time before opening her eyes and yawning, stretching out as if she'd just woken up from a long nap. A throbbing protest in her leg made Diana cringe and sit up, fully awake from the jolt of pain. The stiff, white hospital sheets rustled underneath her as she pulled them away from her leg, exposing her bandaged thigh and calf.

"Careful."

She didn't look up from the white gauze wrapped in layers around her skin. Diana's brain was still struggling to recall the events that had led her so unceremoniously to the place she was in, but when they came back to her the girl's mouth pursed in a thin line. Terra. Slade walked farther into the room as Diana gingerly touched her injured leg. She didn't try to bend it and instead glanced up at Slade, the breath catching in her throat. Her savior leaned against the hospital bed, arms casually folded over a black t-shirt as he turned his upper body to look down at her. The fabric was taut against his skin and she could see the outline of his powerful, rippling muscles through it, but his form wasn't what held her gaze. Diana could count on one hand the number of times she had seen him without the mask, and each time what her eyes were drawn to was his hair. At the moment it was parted down the side and slightly tousled, and she wordlessly dropped her eyes before the urge to run her fingers through it grew any stronger. It looked soft. But more than that, it made him look like an angel. That hair combined with the smooth skin of a man in his early thirties and strong jaw surely turned some heads on the street, if he ever went out dressed normally. Diana's evil angel was wickedly handsome, but most of the time she was able to put that thought out of her head.

"How's the pain?"

"Tolerable," Diana replied, watching Slade as he pulled out the tablet computer he carried with him, presumably to check her vitals.

She could feel the leads attached to her skin and Diana flushed, suddenly self-conscious about being clad only in a bed sheet and her underwear. Her hands curled around the edges of the sheet and she positioned it so that it covered more of her body.

"Are you sure you're quite all right?" Slade asked, glancing down at his computer to give the heart monitor reading another glance.

She frowned and began to grow suspicious. His normally-flat tone had an undercurrent of curiosity and he was studying Diana's face closely, which couldn't be good for her. Anything that held Slade's attention like that tended to have horrible repercussions for the object of his interest.

"Just a bit sore," Diana replied, "I think the morphine's making me feel off."

"Perhaps," he speculated emotionlessly, "Though I did give you a very low dosage. You were only out for about an hour and a half and I've no desire to medicate you too heavily. It'll be Tylenol from here on out."

She gave a generic murmur and looked down, picking at a loose thread in the scratchy hospital linens. There really wasn't a good way to thank him. They were close, too close, for a boss and an employee, but it wasn't as if they were friends either. Diana's heart skipped a beat and she raised her eyes to Slade when he leaned in closer, gently tilting up her chin with the hand that wasn't holding his tablet computer. His eye flickered over her face, assessing the damage.

"You did hit your head, but I don't think that's left more than a faint bruise…the other wounds will heal up soon."

Slade released her jaw and glanced down at his screen. Diana let out the breath that she didn't know she'd been holding and resumed fiddling with her sheet. For the first time upon awakening she thought of Terra. During the incident she'd heard Terra scream. She felt a brief stab of pity for the much-younger girl. The fact that she had the power wasn't her fault, and no one had been around to teach her how to use it very well so it was no wonder it was raging out of control.

"Slade?"

"Hm?" He asked, glancing up from his screen, a quizzical expression on his features.

"Is Terra…is she doing alright? She's not hurt, is she?"

It was the wrong thing to say. Something in his face shifted and he leaned away from her.

"Terra's status shouldn't be your principle concern."

"Slade," Diana said emphatically, leaning forward and placing her bare hand on his before she realized what she was doing, "You know that I've always been completely focused on the current mission. I won't let Terra complicate that. Besides, it's been all of a week, and"—

"Enough."

The word hung in the air, commanding the silence that followed. There was no malice behind it, no force— the fact that their fingers were still laced together was an indication in and of itself that he wasn't terribly angry—there was only emotionless weight in the dead air. Diana was instantly and completely still. She fought to keep her eyes from rolling in the back of her head when he began lightly stroking the back of her hand with his thumb. Biting her lip as a shiver ran through her, she warily watched Slade's face and looked for a reaction. His features were smooth and relaxed.

"Terra is shaken up, but there isn't a scratch on her. I'm more concerned about you Diana, and you should be as well. Focus."

"I'm sorry, Slade."

They were interrupted by two light taps on the door that gently opened to reveal an older gentleman carrying a tray that Diana assumed was for her. Slade separated his hand from hers and she felt a pang, but she couldn't help but grin at seeing Wintergreen. His hair was as white as Slade's but appropriately so, as proven by the wrinkles that aged his dignified, clean-shaven features.

"Miss Diana," Wintergreen said, setting the tray down on her bedside table, "Your lunch, if you choose to have it today."

"Thank you," she said quietly, and even Slade gave the older man a nod and a brief smile before Wintergreen made his exit.

Wintergreen was a neutral force in the compound. He always had been. Diana knew without having to ask that he was closer to Slade than she would ever get. The pair of them were almost friends, or at least as close to being friends as Slade could get with anyone. But he'd also been a listening ear for Diana. Wintergreen had taught her how to make tea properly and how to buy sheets with a decent thread count. They weren't as close as he and Slade were, but every time they spoke it was amicable. When Wintergreen left the room Slade folded his arms across his chest and sighed. The air in the room seemed lighter with the brief presence of another human being, and Diana was glad for the diversion.

"Your communicator is on the table," he said quietly, "Let me know if you need anything. I'll be back in later to check on you, and naturally I'll be taking over Terra's lessons for awhile while you recover. Don't worry about anything else for now."

"Yes, Slade," Diana murmured, picking at the hem of her bed sheet again as he stood up to leave.

"Get some rest," Slade said over his shoulder, the door sliding closed behind him.

Author's Note: I still suck at updates. :/ Sorry guys. And any reviews are appreciated.