Chapter 6

She felt the familiar quickening of her blood, the pounding of her heart, coupled together with the sensation of time slowing down to an infinitesimal crawl. She knew the reason for it - WAR, and the anticipation of the imminent battle to come. The light in the sky was dim now, the flames of the burning city - her city - visible on the horizon. She held aloft her round shield, emblazoned with its stylized ascendant eagle, braced on her left arm as was customary, while her right gripped the smooth wooden shaft of the Amazonian spear, the "eight-footer," its deadly steel tip gleaming as she held it over the shield's sharpened edge.

Although she could not see them, she felt the presence of her warrior-sisters on her right and left behind her, the host of the Amazons ready for battle. Diana's eyes narrowed, her teeth clenched. Excitement coursed through her armored limbs, even as she then heard the tramp of the enemy's feet, approaching steadily without break in the rhythm.

They were coming. The Men of Alar.

Hate flowed like adrenaline through her veins. It was all she could feel, all she wanted to feel. She needed the hate to make her strong, to drive all other weak emotions away. She bared her teeth, feeling the weight of her crested helm against her cheeks, her forehead. To kill as many of the damned Alarians as possible, before they overwhelmed all Themyscira, was her only thought. Hatred of the cursed men, the invaders, the occupiers. There could be no reasoning, no compromise with such demons!

Thrump-thrump-thrump-thrump.

She heard them before she saw them; their rhythmic marching, more like machines than men, their boots shaking the ground. There must be hundreds of them, thousands of them. Unnatural defilers of the Great Mother herself, the very earth protested their existence - she would destroy them all!

They emerged over the ridge, a long line of them resplendent in their black gold-braided uniforms, holding out their long rifle-crossbows menacingly before them. Their faces were half-concealed by their high shakos. Neither one could be distinguished from the other. Their marching spoke of iron discipline. She knew that their mission was to eliminate the Free Women, to the last woman and daughter. They would show no mercy, it was alien to them as cowardice was to the Amazons.

But this time, she was ready for them, this time they would not take her by surprise. She would not wait for them to fall into their defensive squares as was their custom. Her sisters would smash them before they could. Her battle-cry rang out clear and loud in the air.

"Amazons! Attack!"

Diana charged, not knowing if her sisters followed. She roared as she felt the eight-footer strike home, burying itself in the guts of the first Alarian directly before her. The man collapsed in a pile of gory entrails as she yanked the weapon free, swinging it over her head to smash the head of a second soldier. His skull exploded in a shower of bone and blood and also fell like a ripped sack. Howling with bloodlust, Diana leapt into throwing stance and flung the eight-footer with all her force, skewering at least three of the enemy where they stood. Without pause she drew her xiphos, blocking the bayonet thrust of a grimacing Alarian, then with a quick twist of her wrist she slashed at his arm, slicing it away from his body. Another lunged at her, and she ducked his blow, rising to sever his head from his shoulders in a smooth stroke of her blade. Blood splashed across her face and chest. It dripped from her helmet and armor. She raised her sword high and cried out her voice a primeval scream of triumph.

"Kallinike!"

She eagerly turned to fight more of the enemy, but when she did she was no longer on the field of battle. Instead she was standing before a farmhouse, a neat and tidy building quite unlike those on her island. Despite that it looked vaguely familiar but she didn't have time to think where she might have seen it before. More Alarians were racing through the front yard, leaping over crumpled heaps that might have been rocks, or the bodies of her sisters. They ignored these obstacles. She called out to her sisters for aid, but it seemed none were left standing. She could see none though she called for them desperately. Then the Alarians were upon her, their sabers drawn. She raised her shield just in time to take the blows they rained down. She dug her heels into the ground but they were inexorably forcing her back into the house.

As she crossed the threshold, she cursed, spitting at them through her teeth, and gave a mighty heave, sending them flying backwards. Yet still they poured on her like a tsunami of black uniforms. She lost her shield and in anger she slashed about with her xiphos, cutting down the faceless soldiers left and right, until there was a pile of corpses at her feet on the thick brown carpet...

Carpet?

Startled, Diana stared about her, finally recognizing where she was. This was her house! This was her home where she lived, not Paradise Island. No, this was in California, in America. Only down the street outside there would be a laundromat, a panaderia, an oil-change shop, the Cheesecake Factory where she and her husband had gone out to dinner several times since they had moved here...

No, this is wrong, Diana wanted to cry out to the Alarians, you're not supposed to be here, but she had no voice. They were true to their reputation: relentless and merciless. They overwhelmed her. They wrested the xiphos from her grip, but still she struggled, shocked and furious, until they had trapped her back into their bedroom.

Clark! She wanted to shout, but it was if the power of speech were taken from her. She felt their hands on her arms, her shoulders, and they forced her to her knees, as if to behead her. So. She would die now, but she had no regrets for having fought and resisted, it was the way of the warrior. But they waited there - for what? There was something else, and she saw it as they turned her about, forced her to look.

A single Alarian had broken off from the group that held her down. He strode over to the other end of the bedroom, where there was a wooden cradle. A noise was coming from it. For a moment she was stupid with confusion, then, horror swept over her as she recognized it too.

Jon! JON!

She did not know if she cried it aloud. Stunned, she saw the tall Alarian soldier pause at the head of her son's cradle. He pushed his shako up over his forehead with his fist. Then...she saw his face as he turned to look at her.

...Bruce?

Stunned beyond comprehension, Diana saw that it was Bruce in that uniform. There was no doubt of it, his eyes, his jaw. But how…why? His face was blank and he did not appear to recognize her at all. Then, he returned his attention to the cradle, the crying baby within. She saw the drawn saber in his hand, and terror and disbelief took over her mind.

He raised his sword, reversed it so it hovered point down.

"No! No! Not my son! Bruce! Please!" Diana screamed, struggling to break the grip of the Alarians, but she knew with there was nothing she could do.

The Alarians were merciless.

The sword point flashed as it struck down.

"NO!"

"Diana! Diana!"

Strong hands were on her shoulders; instinctively she struck out blindly, felt something tear under her hand. A familiar grunt, but she knew this sound, and she knew she was awake. She realized her eyes were open but she couldn't see, it was dark; she struggled to clear the fog of sleep from her vision.

"Clark?" Diana gasped, confused. "What…what is...?"

"It's all right, Diana, you were having a bad dream."

Clark's voice was comforting and reassuring, tinged with worry. Diana realized she was sitting upright in their bed, the linen bedsheets tangled and half-thrown off. Clark sat close to her, his eyes full of concern. She realized that in her flailing she had ripped the old Kansas City Royals t-shirt he liked to sleep in.

Diana's eyes darted around their new bedroom, still only halfway furnished since their move-in day. There was nothing untoward lurking in the dark (of course not: why would there be?) and she felt her muscles relax from their involuntary tensing, but she realized her hands were still shaking, just as if she really had been in battle. She hid them underneath the sheets, suddenly feeling embarrassed. The red lights on the digital clock (set up atop a stack of cardboard boxes) read 4:41 AM.

"I'm so sorry, Clark," she said apologetically. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"It's okay," Clark still gently held onto her. He draped a corner of the bed sheet around her naked waist. "Are you feeling better now?"

She nodded wordlessly, still trying to think of what her dream meant, although the details were fading fast from her memory. Whatever had brought that on?

"What were you dreaming? It sounded like you were fighting."

"I...was. I was back on Themyscira. The Alarians were invading...again. I was fighting them, and then we were in our home, but they were there too, and there were too many of them, I..."

She stopped, thinking she was rambling. Diana contemplated for a moment whether she should tell Clark that she'd seen Bruce in her dream, but then thought better of it. The whole thing was absurd; it was all just stress from the move, and the remarkable news of Clark's uncle. She thought he might find it upsetting if she mentioned what Bruce had done in the dream, she thought he didn't need that right now.

"It's nothing," Diana assured him. "Just bad memories perhaps."

The look of worry did not entirely leave Clark's face. He had noticed how she had hid her shaking hands.

"Perhaps you should talk to someone," he suggested carefully. "It was such a traumatic experience for you."

"Oh, Clark," Diana said, in that tone of voice that Clark knew meant she wanted him to forget the whole thing. "I'm fine, really. Besides, who would I talk to? Call up a shrink?"

"I mean it, Diana," Clark insisted. "I know you're a 'strong Amazon warrior' and all but it doesn't mean you're not stressed. It could help you to talk about it."

Recently Batman and someone else, a Dr. Veritas or somebody, had been pushing some kind of "self-help" therapy specially tailored for members of the Justice League, which Diana thought was ironic since she thought the only one who really needed it was Batman. To her surprise, Clark had taken advantage of it and said it was helpful, but as far as she knew Barry was the only other person who had done the program.

"You give me all the help I need," Diana insisted, and she smiled. "Besides, I have you to talk to. Really, I'm fine. Everyone has bad dreams once in awhile. Even you did, remember? We got through it together." She patted his hand. "I'll be all right, darling."

Clark did remember, and he remembered that his bad dreams back in Smallville had been something of a bad omen. But he had been so resistant to help, and so he couldn't blame Diana if she was the same. Still...when he heard Diana crying out in her dream, it had chilled him. For one thing, it hadn't sounded like she was winning her fight. Perhaps she was thinking of her mother...

Then, as if on cue, a faint crying came from the next room over.

"Oh, no, I woke Jon," moaned Diana. She tossed the remaining covers aside and reached for one of Clark's old XXL t-shirts, hanging over a chair. "I'll see to him."

"No, I'll take care of him. It's almost five, I should be getting up anyway. You get some more sleep. We have our big meeting with the Justice League today."

Diana reluctantly lay back down on the bed, watching as Clark got up and disappeared out of sight into the other room. She stared up at the ceiling, listening to Clark patiently soothing Jon. She thought about Clark's words, wondering if it could be true that she was suffering from trauma. If anyone else but Clark would have suggested that, she would have coldly brushed them off, but he knew her better than anyone else in the world, and she trusted his wisdom. The battle on Themsycira had robbed her of her people, her friends, and her mother; the strange Alarians had taken her prisoner and humiliated her. Did she wish revenge? Perhaps she did. Although she had committed herself to the ways of peace and protection rather than war and retaliation, many years ago, the urge was still there. Of course, there was no one to take revenge on. The Alarians and their strange King - Bruce's relative - were unreachable in another dimension, forever sealed by his dream-magick. There was nothing she could do. Maybe that was why she was feeling stressed. She wouldn't go as far as think she was traumatized.

Or perhaps it was recent events, and what they had agreed to take on. Either way, Diana had felt unusually restless, and in the past she would have exercised to banish it from her mind, but now she was a mother, and couldn't just disappear for days to be alone. It was hard enough working at the League, but she wouldn't use the excuse of work responsibility to be absent from Jon's life. Her mother, Hera knew, had done that enough.

As the dream's vividness faded, Diana considered it more to just be a nuisance. She had already forgotten than Bruce was in her dream. She resolved to throw herself into the work of making this house habitable for the three of them (Hera also knew that it was a dump when they bought it), but she knew it would be a home. A good home. She was certain of it.

Earth Orbit, Over Africa

The Watchtower, high in orbit, kept watch over the Earth. The only individuals allowed on that particular space station were full-fledged members of the Justice League, or perhaps the occasional VIP or "guest" carefully screened by at least two senior members. There was too much valuable (and dangerous) technology floating about the place, for "casual visitors" to be admitted. Everyone who set foot on the station had to have a good reason for being there, and be on some kind of official business.

Everyone, thought Bruce Wayne, except for one person.

A commotion outside the quarterdeck drew Batman's attention away from his inspection of the logs. He was already in a partially sour mood because he had asked J'onn J'onzz to help him research British rocket experimenters of the mid-twentieth century. J'onn had in fact done some half-hearted work towards that on his last shift, but Bruce saw that the damned Martian had mostly spent his time looking at cat videos on the Internet and streaming up episodes of Orange is the New Black. Was he the only one who took any of this seriously? He was thinking of giving J'onn a reprimand, but then he heard the loud noises coming from the alcove where he maintained his workstation. Immediately, he could tell what it was: Superman and Wonder Woman had arrived, and they had brought their kid with them.

Of course, a child aboard this highly secret and secure facility was an uncommon sight but evidently not an unwelcome one, Bruce realized: the Justice League members present clustered around the couple, cooing and complimenting the baby, who was held securely on Diana's chest.

"I can't believe he's gotten so big!" Huntress said admiringly. "How old is he now?"

"14 months and 8 days...I think," Clark smiled proudly. Actually, he had had some difficulty matching up Themysciran time with Earth time.

Jon, positioned face first in the carrier on Diana's chest, took a quick glance at the unfamiliar people around him, then he quickly buried his face back in her chest, not looking at anyone.

"Hah, he's shy!" Shayera exclaimed in amusement. Diana nodded.

"He's not used to that many people yet. He does like animals though. Any kind."

"Well, he'll have to get used to all his uncles and aunties," Oliver grinned. He tried to get Jon's attention, making goofy faces, but Jon was having none of it, trying to burrow deeper into his mother.

While Diana stood and chatted with Hawkgirl and Huntress, Clark looked around. Batman stood aloof as usual, just watching them, his black mask rendering his face expressionless. It was always difficult to guess exactly what the man was thinking; Clark never knew another human being who could so effectively mask even his body physiology so that it didn't give away whether he was nervous or excited. No doubt Bruce had trained himself to be like that.

But one thing he did know – despite all his eccentricities and strangeness, Bruce was a friend. He had helped them in Themyscira; without it, they would have never made it out of Carcosa alive. But how much had the experience affected him? Clark wasn't sure. For a time, just after their return, Diana would hardly speak to him (privately, she had admitted to him that she had suspected his cousin might have possessed him, "Who knows the tricks of that black magician?") but that was only a brief spell.

Bruce finally walked up to him, extending his hand. Clark took it firmly; early in his life he had learned how to shake a man's hand without breaking the bones.

"Thank you for calling this meeting on such short notice," Clark began. "I know it's inconvenient..."

"Nothing is 'inconvenient' when it comes from Superman," Bruce murmured. "Besides I have some news of my own I need to share with the others."

"I...hope it's not bad news," Clark wondered at the rather more-than-usual grim look in his friend's eyes.

"Well, it's not good...but it's nothing to do with League business. How is Jon?"

"He's great, he's healthy and strong," Clark hesitated a moment, wondering if Bruce's question had another intent. "He hasn't displayed any powers yet. He probably really won't until he gets older. He's just stronger than other one-year olds."

"Good..that's good, Clark," Bruce said noncommittally. "Are you finished moving?"

"Almost. Still a few more boxes to unpack. We'll have to have you out for a visit."

"Mmm, yes," Bruce glanced at Diana again. She was still talking to the others, and hadn't looked his way yet. "Well, let's get this meeting started."

The conference room was situated in an area of the station which typically held a glorious, panoramic view of the Earth. Otherwise, it was really no different than any other room in a Wayne Enterprises office. Each seat had its own 3D tablet. Today, Clark thought, there was almost a full house. The Flash, Green Lantern, Aquaman, and Cyborg were there. Also Huntress, Green Arrow, Black Canary, Huntress, Hawkgirl and Hawkman. Shazam wasn't there, since today was a big testing day at school, and Bruce had refused his request to skip class. Zatanna Zatara wasn't there either; her absence was noticed by the others.

"Where's Zatanna?" Ollie asked.

"She couldn't make it today. I'll have more to say about that later," Bruce said, his voice already businesslike and to the point. "First, Superman has called this meeting, so I'll let him start."

"Thank you all for coming," Clark said, nodding at everyone. "I know this is short notice, but I wanted to give you some news...I'm not quite sure if it affects any of you, actually, but I think it may be significant enough in another way."

"Another superbaby on the way?" Flash winked. Batman shot him a curt look, as if to tell him to speak only when spoken to.

"No, not yet," Clark grinned, then his expression turned serious, drawing in their attention. "But it is kind of a family nature. I'll explain."

He began by describing what had happened in the past week, the visit by General Lane. Bruce, Diana noted, was paying very close attention.

"My uncle was a Special Forces soldier, a Green Beret. Back in the early 1970s, when the Vietnam War was still on, the U.S. Army sent certain units out into the other countries surrounding Vietnam, like Laos and Cambodia, maybe Thailand. They were like Black Ops, sent out on search-and-destroy missions to wipe out VietCong strongholds, kill top Communist leaders and sympathizers. He belonged to one of those units, they parachuted into the highlands of Laos, their particular mission was to try to link up with a tribe that might be friendly to Americans, but they were never seen again and presumed lost. My parents got a telegram - they didn't always notify next-of-kin in person like they did now - and later, a flag. No personal effects were returned, they thought it was the end of it. Until a month ago, some German tourists came across a man who wandered into their path, who spoke English and some other language they didn't know. He was delirious and raving, they said. Somehow, they managed to get him to local authorities, who notified the Red Cross."

"Wow, that's...incredible!" Hal looked excited, almost thrilled. "I haven't heard anything on the news yet?"

"No, it's been kept out of the media, for now."

"But this is huge!" Dinah spoke up. "I have friends who are really involved in veterans issues, they're bikers who ride with a Vietnam vets' group, I know they would would love to do some kind of homecoming!"

"Um, I don't know-"

"You don't know?" Dinah was astonished. "Man, people have always thought we never brought all our guys back home, and here is proof! We should do something for him, it's the very least..."

"That's very interesting," Bruce interrupted, watching both Diana and Clark closely. "I suspect that there is more to this story, that warrants League attention?"

Clark took a deep breath, paused. Everyone around the table stared at him, wondering what else there was.

"Yes. I saw General Lane two days ago. He gave me more information about what they found out. It seems something happened to my uncle when he was missing. There's more to it than just some old soldier walking out of the jungle. Whatever he found, he found something incredible. Something…that made him stop aging."

That made everyone sit up and pay attention. Wide-eyed looks were exchanged around the table.

"What do you mean?" Flash said in astonishment. "Stop aging?"

"Whatever happened to him, it seems he hasn't technically stopped aging completely," Clark clarified. "But something's dramatically slowed down his aging process. He looks like a 45 year-old man, when he should look 75 at least. It's not just his looks, it's affected his cellular level too."

Clark passed three photos to the other members. One a studio portrait photograph of Sergeant David Kent, in dress uniform, the same one that was in Jonathan Kent's scrapbook. The other was a photo of David Kent in drab green jungle fatigues, posing with another Green Beret and an Asian man, who may have been an interpreter, all three standing in the jungle.

The last photo was clearly recently taken. It showed a middle-aged man, clad in a hospital gown, staring blankly into the camera. He had thinning blonde hair but clearly the same man in the other two photos, the same chiseled jaw.

"David Kent was 32 when he disappeared in Laos, in 1974," Clark added in a strained voice. "He would have been 72 this year."

"Well, this is clearly not a 72-year-old man, unless he has exceptional genes," Aquaman muttered. "What could have done this? We don't have anything in Atlantis like this. Some kind of special serum? Magick, or-"

Hal Jordan shrugged. "Hell, maybe he found the Fountain of Youth. Maybe we should look for it," he looked at Clark. "What did the Army find out? I assumed they did some kind of debriefing."

"General Lane wouldn't talk about that too much," Clark said. "He only said it was a 'mystery they're still investigating. When I pressed him, he just said it's 'classified.'"

"The usual 'official' answer. I'm surprised they haven't kept him locked up and out of sight," Flash said. "That they even told you."

"That's another thing, that you should know," Clark said. "General Lane said they when they first talked to him he was delirious, raving, speaking in a language none of them could determine. It wasn't Laotian, or Vietnamese, or any language of that area. They think it may be some dialect of the the people he was sent to find. Eventually he seemed to calm down, and respond to treatment. But he wouldn't say where he had been all these years, or what had happened to him. He claimed he couldn't remember, and that he only wanted to be back with his family. Technically, as far as anyone knows, I'm his only family left."

An uncomfortable silence followed, as the implications dawned on them.

"That's why they told you all this?" Hawkman sounded skeptical. "If they wanted him to talk they would make him."

"I don't know," Clark stared down at the table. "I suspect there's a lot more Lane isn't telling me."

"Can't you get that Lois Lane woman to tell you?"

"The general doesn't share top secret information with Lois," Diana said in exasperation, glaring at Hal. "But I agree with Clark - there's something the Army is keeping back. That's why they asked him to take in David Kent in our home."

Astonished mutterings at that; Bruce glared around the table until they shut up. "You agreed to this?"

"What could I do? He's my uncle."

"You don't have an uncle," Bruce pointed out. "This man could be dangerous-"

"What?" Dinah blurted out. "I don't believe I'm hearing this! No matter what's happened to him, he's a hero, and he needs to be welcomed home!"

Bruce ignored her. "The Army will be watching your home constantly, you know. Your family will be under 24-hour surveillance."

"You don't think I know that?" Clark stared at him. "I'll do what I can to make sure they don't bug our home. We'll be careful."

Bruce looked at Cyborg. "This may be the cause for the chatter we picked up."

"What?" Hal threw up his hands. "You didn't tell us about any chatter!"

"We didn't know what it was yet," Bruce snapped. "But now it's definite A.R.G.U.S. and the Army are working together on this. Something this out of the ordinary would come under their purview."

Bruce stared hard at all of them. "Who knows what he was doing in the past 40 years? Who or what he was with? Or even what his real orders were? He could be a very dangerous man."

"I don't think he could be dangerous to me. Anyway, it doesn't matter. I'm going to take David Kent in. I know he's not related to me at all, but he's Jonathan Kent's brother. I owe my father that, at least." He stared meaningfully at Bruce, who seemed to concede. He only asked:

"When is he going to be at your place?"

"In two weeks, pending further medical tests," Clark replied. "As far as the Army can tell, other than the slowed aging, he's fine. No injuries, other than dehydration when he was initially examined by the Red Cross. I also had to give them copies of the medical 'paperwork' that you made for Diana and Jon and me, to prove we're not contagious."

Chuckles sounded around the table, and Bruce scowled.

"I still don't like it but I supposed it can't be helped. You won't be able to participate fully if there's any League emergencies."

"Damn, Batman, is that all you can think of?" Dinah shook her head. "No matter what's happened to him, he should be recognized. Superman, Wonder Woman, whenever you think the time is right to do a celebration for David Kent, you let me know! We'll have something up."

"Thanks, Canary," Clark smiled.

"But Batman's right, we're gonna be missing you again," Hawkman grunted. "Where's Zatanna been?"

"That's the other news I wanted to report on," Batman said shortly, and explained about John Constantine's 'indisposed' condition. "For now he is hospitalized indefinitely at Ravenscar."

"What?" There were a few shocked gasps around the table.

"Can't say I'm surprised," Hal muttered in aside to Aquaman, who suddenly looked uncomfortable.

"What happened?" Shayera asked, astonished. Although she herself never really cared for him, this was still disturbing news.

"He was trying to summon something similar to what we encountered on Themyscira. He made a mistake. He may never recover."

"But what about Zatanna?" Dinah demanded. "What about her? Was she with him...when 'it' happened? Is she all right?"

"She is going to be off on a separate assignment until further notice."

"That didn't answer my question! Is. She. All. Right?"

"Yes," Batman replied, gritting his teeth. "She's fine. But she'll be busy. That's all you need to know, unless she deigns to tell us more."

"What a bunch of crap, all that magick stuff," Hal complained to no one in particular. "Why do people muck about with that?"

"Power, knowledge, wealth," Arthur shrugged. "The usual suspects."

"Waste of time!"

The rest of the meeting was taken up with further back and forth between Dinah and Bruce, then old items such as scheduling and Watchtower maintenance. Jon finally expressed some of his boredom and began wailing, signaling a welcome end to the proceedings. Batman took the opportunity to vanish back to his alcove, after letting Clark know that he would want to talk to him 'privately' later.

Afterwards, Clark and Diana took their places in the Watchtower quarterdeck for the beginning of their shift. Jon had been left with Ollie and Dinah, who were thrilled at the opportunity to watch him in their quarters during the 12-hour period. When they were alone, Clark said to Diana:

"You think I did the right thing in telling everybody?"

"Of course you did," Diana assured him. "This is an unusual event, they should know. There's something going on with that, and the League can help uncover it."

"But is it something...bad?" Clark looked away. "Bruce seems to think it is, that it's some kind of danger for us. He'll want to be all over this, you know."

"I told you Bruce is an old woman!" Diana insisted. "Dinah thinks this is something wonderful, and it can be. Even if David Kent was a...a difficult person when he was younger, that was 40 years ago. He was through something...traumatic, too. We can help him, all of us."

Clark was silent a moment. "Yes, you're right. We'll get the house looking good, then we'll welcome him home."

A thought occurred to Diana. "Are you going to tell Lois about this?"

"Why?"

"She could pester her father for information! Plus, I think her mother, Ellen, would be very helpful too. She is turning out to be a big help to the new Society."

"Oh, well...I'll think about it," Clark wasn't sure about telling Lois anything about his personal life. But they would need help if it were true General Lane was holding back on them.

He reached out and grasped Diana's hand as she sat beside him. "I'm so happy you are here with me," he said. "I couldn't do this without you."

Diana smiled, contentedly. "Of course, it has always been so."

To be continued...

[A/N: A lot going on here for Clark and Diana, but the Justice League will be behind them? But what is Zatanna's assignment? What is Aquaman hiding? And does Diana's dream mean anything, or is it only stress, as she thinks, or something more...ominous?

As always, thanks for reading and please review!

Also, excited to see the new WW constume and Gal Gadot looks great in it! I imagine her fighting just like in the dream-sequence! Hope you all liked it too!]