Here's chapter seven. Some of you have been asking me when the happy stuff will come. Let me just say that we are seeing Bruce and Diana's relationship in its most painful form. I don't want to give anything away so I'll shut up. Anyway, here it is.

Oh, and slight reference made to something said in the JL episode "The Terror Beyond." Enjoy!

Chapter 7

Diana gazed absent-mindedly down at her hands, turning them over in front of her. They were perfectly clean, considering she'd just stepped out of the shower. But she could still feel his blood trickling down her skin, and in her mind she could see the deep red. It made her sick every time the image came to mind. Not so much because of the blood, but because of what she had done. Her hands had spilt his blood. And that was unacceptable.

Still wrapped in a bath towel, her raven hair sopping wet, the princess sat at the edge of her bed, staring at nothing. Athena's armor had been carelessly thrown onto a chair before Diana rushed to the shower. She didn't have the energy to put it back on. She didn't have the energy to do much of anything, except sit and think.

All of the emotion that had been building up inside of her, stemming from the hundreds of times he'd denied her advances, finally came out in the form of aggression. She was ashamed. A man was the source and cause of her troubles. How unfitting for an Amazon warrior, descendent of royalty.

But as she dwelt on how shameful her behavior had been, she couldn't help but feel a little proud of herself. Only a little.

She wished J'onn was here. He always knew exactly what to say in every situation. And she desperately needed his empathetic guidance, now more than ever. But he was out there somewhere, finding himself. She hoped he was happy, wherever the Martian be. Who else would be as understanding?

Clark was understanding, but Diana couldn't burden him with this. His two best friends battling it out with hearts and fists? No, he had enough on his plate as it was.

Shayera was…well, Shayera was Shayera. And her mace was like a third arm. If Diana explained to her what had happened, the Thanagarian would probably suggest getting drunk to forget about men, or offer to whack Bruce with her third arm. Neither of those promised a positive outcome.

Wally, she feared, wouldn't be able to take things as seriously as they needed to be. Or stay quiet about it. But if she needed a laugh, she knew where to go.

Diana wouldn't dare bother John with all of this. He had his own heartbreak to deal with.

There weren't many others who knew of Batman's identity. Ollie knew. She was sure the Question had known for probably as long as she has, and Huntress and Black Canary as well, considering they all work in Gotham. But Diana wouldn't go to them for advice on Bruce. Zatanna maybe? She had helped defeat Circe, although, she hadn't been the one singing.

The princess sighed as she went over the roster of her co-workers. But she wanted to talk to someone real, someone not weighed down by superhero duties. Who was not a superhero, but knew that Batman was Bruce Wayne? Someone who knew the situation she and Bruce were in. Someone Diana could talk to freely, someone… And then it hit her. Duh, as people in man's world would say.

Within seconds, Diana had the Metropolis phone number dialed. "Hello?" answered a confident female voice on the other end.

"Hi, Lois? It's Diana."

"Diana, dear!" exclaimed Lois Lane. "I'm so glad to hear from you! How're you doing? How are things with…you know who?"

"Umm, that's actually why I'm calling. I was wondering if we could have lunch tomorrow, perhaps?"

"Oh, absolutely! Clark and I were going to order in to the Planet, but I get to see him every day of the week," Lois scoffed. "And I'm pretty sure he'll understand when I say I'm ditching him for you."

Diana caught the subtle undertone in her voice and smiled. "Yes, I'm sure it won't bother him terribly much if I steal you away for an hour or so."

Lois giggled. "I know this great little Italian restaurant at the corner of 42nd and Main. Meet you at, say…12:30?"

"Sounds great, Lois. And thanks for fitting me in on such short notice."

"Fitting you in? Who am I, the president?" she laughed. "Anything for a friend in need."

Diana smiled again. "I really appreciate it. See you tomorrow."

"Take care, Diana."

"You too."

As the princess closed her phone, her smile hadn't yet faded. She felt a little better already, knowing Lois would have a good, realistic opinion on the matter. And besides, Lois knew how Bruce was. Maybe not in the same capacity that Diana did, but she knew.

Rising up off the bed, she slipped into a nightgown and combed through her hair. The armor was still piled in a colorful mess, so Diana straightened it out and hung it up, thanking Athena for the wisdom and courage the goddess bestowed upon her every day.

Although it was still relatively early to go to bed, early being before midnight, Diana wanted this day to be over. Hurting her friends, whether consciously or unconsciously, was not something she enjoyed. So she turned off the lights and crawled under the covers, hoping tomorrow would not be so taxing on her, both physically and emotionally.

x.x.x

"Actually, there was this one time when I had to fake my death as Clark since someone put a bomb under my car and it would have jeopardized my identity if I'd survived the explosion and, well, it's a long story, but Lois was looking around my apartment a few days after my death for some evidence, and Superman happened to be there looking for clues about who killed Clark too. She saw an old photo of the two of us at the Planet from a few months before and started crying. She said, and I quote, 'I always teased him. But I had so much respect. I liked him too, I really did. Wish I'd told him.'"

"You memorized her exact words?" said Shayera, trying not to laugh.

"Well, yeah! I'm a reporter. I have an excellent memory."

"Hmm, very smooth," she said. "But even if she didn't know your alter ego happened to be her personal guardian angel at the time, she definitely cared about you. And still does, I'm sure."

"Or maybe we're just good friends."

"You can lift an entire city with one arm, Clark. You're the most powerful being I've ever met. I think you just need to have a little confidence in yourself…yourself being Clark, that is."

He shrugged. "I suppose."

"Man of Steel, Heart of Mush," Shayera teased.

Clark laughed. "I'm just an old country bumpkin. So how've you been holding up lately?"

"Oh, you know me. I'll keep on truckin' no matter what hits me. Except this whole Carter Hall, Hawkman thing has kind of thrown me for a loop. Destiny and all that." She looked at Clark. "What do you think about destiny? Is it just bullshit?"

He raised an eyebrow. "That sounds like something Bruce would say."

"He actually used the word nonsense instead of bullshit," she admitted.

They both laughed. "I guess I believe in free will, for the most part. You make decisions based on judgment and go from there."

Shayera pondered the Man of Steel's ambiguous answer. "Are you ever going to get off the fence?" she teased.

"I do on occasion," he smiled, thinking back to the first time he'd heard Shayera ask that. Shayera thought Aquaman had gone bad, but Diana refused to believe it. Diana never thought ill of anyone back then. "How do you think she's doing?" he asked quietly.

The Thanagarian shrugged. "You could always just walk past her room and take a peek," she joked.

That actually wasn't such a bad idea. "Or a listen," said Clark.

"Wait, are you actually going to spy on her?" Shayera wore an expression that was somewhere between mild disbelief and approval.

"Guess I'm off the fence," he said with a grin. After looking around to make sure no one was in earshot, he lowered his voice to a whisper. "Ok, I'll just listen outside her door for a few seconds, see if she's alright. Stay right here and try not to look suspicious, got it?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Sure, it's not like I'm an expert in espionage or anything," she scoffed.

Clark rolled his eyes and began a casual stroll out of the main bay. He passed a few personnel as he walked through the halls, but luckily no one was around the private quarters. When he got to Diana's door, he checked behind him to make sure he was alone, then began listening intently.

It was quiet for the most part, save for a steady heartbeat. She seemed to be breathing slowly but evenly. That was enough to tell him she was asleep. Satisfied with his superb spying skills, Clark sauntered back toward the main bay.

But as he walked by the heavy metal doors of the three separate monitor rooms, he heard something that made him stop. A low, muffled muttering was coming from one of them. He recognized the voice almost immediately. Now that curiosity had masked any form of guilt for spying, Clark peeked through the walls.

Sometimes he wished his hearing wasn't so good.

Inside the monitor room sat Batman, staring up at the computer screen in front of him, reading what looked like some kind of article. But his cowl was off. And he was whispering to himself. A single tear went sliding down his face. The image was…disturbing. Clark immediately retracted his x-ray vision and scurried back into the main bay, finding Shayera exactly where he'd left her.

"What is it?" she asked. "What's wrong!?"

"Oh, uhh, nothing. Diana's fine. She's sleeping. But…"

"But what?"

"Bruce…he's…"

"Having a really tough day," said a third, booming voice. They turned to find John approaching them, Wally close behind. The Green Lantern looked genuinely pissed off while Wally looked downright scared.

"What's wrong with you two?" Shayera asked, picking up on the oddities. "John, what happened to your lip?"

Indeed, his bottom lip was cracked and bleeding. "I got a fist in my face, that's what happened. A Bat fist."

"He hit you?" asked Clark incredulously.

"And threatened Wally. The two of you wouldn't happen to know what exactly went on between Bruce and Diana tonight, would you? Because I'd love some explanations."

Shayera and Clark suddenly looked at each other, wondering if they should reveal what they had seen.

"Well…" But Shayera grew quiet as her eyes locked on a black figure running through the main bay. The three men followed her gaze.

They all grew tense as they watched Batman move swiftly into the hall leading towards the hangar, soon disappearing from sight.

"What the hell?" said John.

Shayera looked to Clark. "What were you going to say a few seconds ago?"

He bit his lip. "Come on," he whispered, motioning for the others to follow him.

"Where are we going?" said Shayera as he lead them aimlessly down a hallway. But the Kryptonian seemed to know what he was doing, since he slowly opened one of the monitor room doors and looked inside.

"Get in," he said. The others obeyed. Clark closed the door behind them.

"When I was coming back from checking on Diana, I…noticed that Bruce was in here and…he was reading something on the computer. An article, I think."

"So what? He reads stuff all the time," said Wally.

"Well, his cowl was off and he looked…sad." Clark didn't have the heart to mention the details.

John frowned. "We can search the history and find out what…"

But Shayera was already in the chair, bringing up the last page viewed on the computer. "Oh no…" she whispered.

The men looked from her saddened face to the screen, comprehension dawning on them. The article that Bruce had been reading was from the Gotham Gazette. The headline read "Wayne Heir Left Orphaned." Below it, the first few lines were in bold.

"Late yesterday evening, Dr. and Mrs. Thomas and Martha Wayne were shot and killed at gunpoint by an unidentified assailant outside the Monarch Theater. Their eight-year-old son, Bruce Wayne, was present during the incident, but unharmed. Although no official statement has been made, it is suspected that the family's longtime butler, Alfred Pennyworth, will remain with the boy in Wayne Manor, serving as permanent caretaker."

"Look at the date," said Clark.

"It's from thirty years ago," said John.

Shayera shook her head. "Almost. It will be in…fifteen days."

"Which means in two weeks…" whispered Wally.

Clark sighed. "It will be the thirty year anniversary of his parents' deaths."

x.x.x

I'm depressed. Review pretty please.