Gotc: OMG! 100 REVIEWS! (And yes, this is a very big deal for me.) Well…99, but that's close enough-ish. It rounds to 100 anyway. You may all join in now in my happy dance! :D Thank you ever so kindly to those of you who have patiently waited for me to overcome irritating bouts of writer's block, infected computers(That in particular I found extremely ironic), and just over all laziness at times in my posting habits. I can't promise you it will get better.

Anyway, I'm glad all of you are liking this so far, especially since I only had a half-baked idea where I was going with it when I started. That being said, I kinda feel some of the characters have been a little OOC. Diana especially. I'm really going to try and work on that, but someone out there give me a slap if I start trying too hard, k? I do think you guys will like this one though, even more so since I've been really vague throughout this fic. As for what that means, well you'll just have to read on. I've also broken up my stages-of-death chapters since the next topic didn't really fit what I wanted to do here. They will be back, but they will make a return before too long!

Disclaimer: Gotc does not own JL or "The Hot Zone". All quotes from the aforementioned book do not belong to me and will be in bold italicized font.

Warnings: Ebola is a disease not for the faint of heart. Out of respect for Richard Preston's work, and of the nature of the virus itself, I will be describing its effects, both in my own words and Mr. Preston's. While I will attempt to keep this tasteful, I have no intention of downplaying the effects of this disease.


Quarantine

CHAPTER 8: Gathering Forces

Sebastian Hernandez comfortably reclined back in the wicker beach chair, while one of his hotel's female escorts ran her oiled fingers across his shoulders, keeping a careful rhythm with the incoming waves. On his lap, he idly toyed with a laptop, flicking from screen to screen of nothing but solid Russian text. He let out an involuntary moan, as her fingers found a missed knot in his neck that had been bothering him for quite some time and released the tension as easily as undoing a child's shoe. Panama was such a nice place, once or twice he'd considered keeping a home here, but if that escort's hands moved any lower, he might just buy the whole damn island-

A shrill shriek cut through the air and shattered the calm. The Latina girl looked up, startled, not quite sure just what it was that she'd just heard. Some of the birds native to the area would scream in distress, but that was unlike anything she'd ever heard. Her customer, however, hadn't moved so much as a muscle, but seemed mildly disappointed that his idyllic illusion had been ruined.

"I am so sorry, Señor," she quickly apologized, still casting wayward glances here and there to find the source of the sound, "The birds here, they can be so….damn loud."

"Not to worry my dear," The man waved easily, "Wouldn't want things too perfect or I might not believe I'm awake. However, perhaps you could be so kind as to find someone to refill my drink? I'm afraid it's run dry."

"Absolutely Señor!" She agreed hurriedly, taking the bright cup from his hand. She thanked her ancestors that he hadn't been too put off. She'd had people try to get her fired for less, so keeping him as happy as possible was her number one priority. After all, happy customers tipped much better.


Sebastian craned his head to watch her hurry across the white sand towards the hotel's bar a half mile away. He'd definitely need to ask the front desk her name before the evening, but for now he had more important business to attend to. Casually, he reached next to his chair and plucked the golden arrow that had been neatly buried not an inch away from where his foot draped over the chair. Twirling it in lazy circles between his fingers, he lowered his dark glasses to reveal bright blue eyes uncharacteristic for the Latin heritage.

"You're aims getting sloppy, Apollo," He said casually, leaning back in the chair, "The girl's the mortal you know."

From the air itself, Apollo's form shimmered for a second before appearing in full regalia before Sebastian. His bow was drawn again, another arrow resting at the ready in his hands. Nothing about his demeanor suggested civility towards his fellow deity.

"You assume much if you think I was aiming for her, Ares." Apollo scoffed bitterly.

'Sebastian' rolled his eyes, removing the glasses entirely and running a hand through his jet black hair. Almost instantly, it bleached to a golden flax. As he ruffled his hair, a light breeze seemed to blow away the copper tan like dust on his skin to reveal the god's visage.

"And to think I expected to actually enjoy a vacation…." Ares sighed, unconcerned with his fellow god's arrival, "I take it Zeus sent you? He's been after me about Kasnia for months now, but it's been forever since I've stirred up a good war-"

"Do I look like Hermes?" Apollo spat, "I have no intention of playing messenger boy. My business here is my own."

"Then out with it, my brother," Ares turned slightly towards the Sun-God, "You look as if you will explode should you hold back any longer."

"I have come across your vile spawn," Apollo hissed.

"I'm afraid you'll need to be more specific," Ares yawned, bored with the conversation.

"Katarostian."

Ares didn't move from his seat, but his posture suddenly stiffened at the name. A cautious eye swiveled to meet his brother's glare.

"Katar?" Ares asked carefully, as if were a joke, "You lie. He was sealed by Zeus himself and has no more chance of escaping than Typhon."

"Your foul offspring even now dwells within the body of a mortal, Ares! How he came upon such misfortune, I do not know, but it does not bode well for you." Apollo warned him, "Our Father warned you against such a beast, yet you paid him no heed and now it once again threatens the world."

"And what is it you propose I do Apollo?" Ares growled, facing his brother, "Katar obeys the will of no one, god nor mortal. The Athenians learned that the hard way."

"Have you neither salve nor bane against this demon?" Apollo scoffed.

"Aye," Ares nodded ruefully, "Death. To meet an end before Katar brings it upon you is a far kinder fate than what waits in his grasp. Father banished to exist between the planes of life and death. Since death would be folly, it robs those it can capture of life to somehow restore its own."

"Surely you have better prepared than that," Apollo shook his head, "When death inevitably waits those who have been cursed to bear that monster."

"There is one other," Ares persisted, lips drawn in a taught line, "Though death is by far the kinder."

Apollo scowled angrily at the God of War. To be denied his own power by the work of another god was infuriating, to be denied by the offspring of a god was intolerable. But to lash out at Ares now would be folly, after all, there would be nothing gained save for his own satisfaction. Instead, Apollo turned to the sea to take his leave.

"Perhaps you should reconsider your idea of kindness," Apollo spat, sparing one last look at his brother before letting the afternoon sun wipe him from the beach, "Nyx will not be pleased to learn her favored servant was struck by your seed."

Apollo had a moment of contentment before he vanished from sight, as Ares blanched at the mention of Nyx's name. Even the King of the Gods feared her wrath, and the vengeful goddess was not known to be understanding, nor forgiving to human, or god. He was no fool to tell the goddess himself of the events on Earth, though he had no doubt she would find out on her own all too soon.


Diana couldn't remember how long she'd been sitting next to Bruce's bedside, with only the steady beeping of the machines to keep her company. It was a stark contrast to the flurry of nurses and doctors that had assailed them both in the early hours of their arrival, and had almost angered her that now J'onn had not left someone keep watch over the dozing form in the bed. But then, what could there be done? The machines soulless toning signaled the outside world that the body in the bed was still alive, the constant drip of the IV replaced the fluids Bruce continued to lose at an alarming rate, and it had become evident long ago that replacing the biohazard buckets to retain some semblance of order and sterility had been a lost cause from the start.

Diana sighed heavily, to save Bruce-no, make him comfortable- would put dozens of people at constant risk to develop the disease themselves. In the back of her mind, she knew full well that was the way he'd order J'onn to do it. No one would put their life on the line for the Batman, not while he had any influence in the situation. Then again, he'd also be telling her to be getting her job done, and looking for the culprit rather than wasting her time fretting over a fate she couldn't change-

"NO!" Diana scolded herself, appalled the thought had even entered her mind, "He isn't gone yet. We still have time to fix this. We still have time to save him."

Determined to prove it to herself, she picked up a discarded towel and gently dabbed at the vermilion streams running across Bruce's face. It was almost painstakingly difficult to just barely touch him, when she could crush a car just as easily as a tin can. It didn't help though. No matter how thoroughly she wiped away the blood, his skin seemed to be stained red from the endless drip. And it wasn't just pouring from his nose, blood-stained tears crawled down the sides of his face, though his eyes were shut behind quivering eyelids.

Ebola attacks the lining of the eyeball. Droplets of blood stand out on the eyelids: you may weep blood. The blood runs from your eyes down your cheeks and refuses to coagulate.

Diana was fighting a losing battle even against the steady but relentless crimson tide. She set the towel down and surveyed the damage the virus was wreaking on Bruce's body. The bruising was the first thing that caught her eye; the purple and red blotches were spreading like a fire in a dry field across his body. His hands and feet were cold despite the fever that was raging unchecked, and they were already the ugly shade of greenish purple from his fingers and toes to the palms of his hands and the soles of his feet.

Small blood clots begin to appear in the bloodstream, and the blood thickens and slows, and the clots begin to stick to the walls of blood vessels. This is known as pavementing, because the clots fit together in a mosaic. The mosaic thickens and throws more clots, and the clots drift through the bloodstream into the small capillaries, where they get stuck. This shuts off the blood supply to various part of the body.

He was getting worse.

She sat back in her seat, running a frustrated hand through her hair. It was all wrong. He wasn't supposed to be like this; the man was too damn stubborn to be this sick. He was just too damn stubborn to be like this….

"Y…ou're not…supposed to be here…." A shaking voice spoke.

A trace of Bruce's blue eyes still looked back at her from behind the veil of blood that had invaded. They were tired and dull, but they were still there.

"Q…quara…ntine…" He wheezed closing his eyes again for a moment.

The smile that spread to her face was involuntary. Leave it to Bruce to be a stickler about the rules, even in his condition. Diana shook her head with a gentle smile and pulled her seat closer to the edge of the bed. She might not be able to touch him, but that didn't mean she still couldn't be close to him.

"I can't get sick," She said, "Remember?"

"Bad time to prove it…." Bruce remarked through a cough.

"Well someone has to make sure you're staying in bed." Diana pointed out, "I promised Alfred."

Bruce rolled his eyes weakly, before letting them drift shut again. They opened again as Diana shifted some of the discarded bins and trash about. They fluttered open at the disturbance and stared at her like a stranger, while his face contorted into a look of confusion at her presence.

"You're not….supposed to be….here." He mumbled.

"Bruce, we've already been over this; I can't get sick."

"No, you're with the others.…There's a…quar…antine…."He insisted, drifting out of consciousness once more.

"Bruce?" Diana called his name, trying to rouse him. This time, he did not wake again, and remained out cold. A frown replaced the comforting smile as the realization of what had just happened began to sink in, despite all the things Diana tried to tell herself it could have been. Apollo was right and the virus was beginning to affect the Dark Knight's greatest asset: his mind.

Ebola destroys the brain more thoroughly than does Marburg. The brain becomes clogged with dead blood cells, a condition known as sludging of the brain. The blood clots lodged in his brain are cutting off blood flow. His personality is being wiped away by brain damage.

Diana forced herself onto her feet, though her whole body felt like lead. She wasn't doing any good here A pang in her chest nearly made her sit down again as she walked to the secured door, and away from Bruce. Somehow, in the pit of her stomach, she felt like this might just be the last time she would ever get to see him alive. As a reflex, she knelt down to pick up the discarded laptop. She winced as she saw paintings of people clawing at the sky, stricken with ruby eyes and tainted blood. Clark was right, Bruce wanted to know everything, even if it was what still lay in store for him.

An alarm rang as she passed through the door and a shower of corrosive smelling disinfectant that battered her from all sides. She stepped out of the shower and was immediately handed a towel by a familiar face.

"You should have told me you were coming back." J'onn sighed heavily.

"It was a little unexpected," Diana admitted, wringing out her hair, "I went to Delphi to ask Apollo for help."

"I take you were unsuccessful." J'onn observed, glancing at a video feed of the Dark Knight.

"Apollo was." Diana clarified, heading further into the Med Bay, "There was nothing he could do. It's all up to Bruce now."

"Perhaps not." J'onn stopped her, laying a hand on her shoulder, "Maybe Batman has more help than we realize."

"What do you mean?" Diana turned to face him, obviously puzzled.

"I received a communication by an outside frequency a little over an hour and a half ago," J'onn explained carefully, "A request for the Watchtower to teleport someone from the planet's surface."

Diana frowned. There were at least a dozen or more League members on Earth at any given moment, none of them needing any kind of special permission to board the Watchtower. So that left someone outside the League, and there weren't many who would have needed to go through a formal request.

"It's Amanda Waller." J'onn clarified, no doubt following her thought process, "She's currently waiting for us in the Founder's Room."

"J'onn!" Diana gasped, shocked and almost feeling strangely insecure that she was on board the orbiting station, "If Batman would have known about this-"

"Batman is currently in no condition to worry about anything other than himself," J'onn stopped her, "And even that is beginning to take its toll. He gave us instruction to find and stop the culprit, and I am willing to use whatever resource can be made available to us."

J'onn's voice was sharper than Diana had heard it be in a very long time. Rarely did the stoic Martian ever seem to waver from his calm confidence, so the sudden change caught her off guard and it didn't take a mind reader to figure out why. On Earth, the rest of the Founders were working towards an end, through unproductive it may be, it was a goal. J'onn was taking care of Bruce, where the only end was watching the once vibrant hero slowly succumb to the devourer that was destroying his body, and for once, it was a foe he was powerless to stop.

"She was teleported straight to the room," J'onn elaborated, "and has had no contact with any of the League since she arrived. I was on my way to speak with her when you arrived."

"Mind if I come with you?" Diana asked, "I'd like to know myself why she's here."

"I couldn't imagine it any different."


The trip to the Founder's Meeting Room was a short walk from the Med Bay, but that only seemed to make the tension worse. Diana's recent encounter with the Cadmus Head ran fresh in her mind, though she felt it was a little odd for the woman to want to confront the League about such an infraction on their own territory. J'onn seemed to sense her apprehension, and went in first, shutting the door quickly behind them before the two heroes faced the dark-skinned woman before them.

"Manhunter, Wonder Woman." Amanda addressed each of them with a brief nod of her head.

"Ms. Waller," J'onn took the initative, "You'll pardon my bluntness, but I'm afraid we're rather busy at the moment. Why have you asked to meet with us under such terms?"

"If you're that busy, then drop the pleasantries," Waller said crisply, pulling a metal briefcase onto the table next to her, "We all know you have an incredibly lethal strain of the Ebola virus on board this station and it's Batman that had the unfortunate pleasure of finding it."

Neither hero responded to that, but by the way the air in the room suddenly seemed to become too thick to breathe, she assumed she'd hit the nail right on the head.

"He's not doing well is he?" She asked, her voice genuine.

"The drugs are helping with the nausea and pain for now, but he's developed a nosebleed that we've already had to give him a transfusion of whole blood to replace. Testing's also showing a myriad of problems developing internally as well." J'onn said, abbreviating the growing list of how Batman was dying.

"The virus is starting to mess with his mind as well," Diana added in her recent encounter with the Dark Knight.

Waller sighed, but nodded to herself as she removed a small key from her pocket and unlocked the briefcase on the table. There was a hiss of compressed air that escaped into the room, as she opened the lid to reveal several vials resting in a temporary cold storage next to several thick file folders brimming with torn and earmarked pages.

"Hera," Diana whispered, "What is that?"

"Immune globulin," Waller said, "From survivors of the Ebola Zaire outbreak. So far it's been the most deadly strain, and most likely the closest related to the one you're currently dealing with. USAMRID has been working with it to try and isolate any antibodies in hopes of making a cure. So far, they've been unsuccessful, but I thought that perhaps you might have better luck."

She also removed the various folders and presented them to Diana, opening them to show their contents and indicating to a few of the pages.

"This," She said tapping the manila folders, "Is the entirety of the research that we currently have on the Ebola virus. Dates of outbreaks, casualties, symptoms, and research specific to each discovered strain."

Diana scanned the pages, unable to take in the massive amount of information that she held in her hands. Everything they would ever need to know about what had taken residence in Batman's body rested in her hands. She shook her head, trying to make sense of what had just taken place. Superman had just been to USAMRID hardly a few hours before and had not returned with absolutely nothing.

"Why are you doing this?" J'onn asked, looking away from the suitcase, "CADMUS has made no secret of its disdain for the Justice League in the past."

"You're right," Amanda nodded in agreement, "And after this is all over, I have no doubt that policy will once again be the case. However, this virus has the potential to devastate mankind. As a nameless organization, CADMUS can only do so much, and as much as I hate to admit it, much of the world looks to the Justice League for help and guidance. If the League can't do a thing to stop this now, panic would be widespread across the globe."

"No," Diana shook her head. Waller's words held no deception, that much she could tell, but there was something else hiding behind the business-like façade. "There's more to this. Why not have CADMUS work overtime trying to find a way to stop an outbreak, instead of turning it over to us? This kind of information could be used to create a biological weapon, and you don't trust us."

"But I do trust Batman."

Waller heaved a heavy sigh, mildly irritated with herself that she'd let something like that slip so easily, but now that it was in the open, there was no need to hold it back any longer.

"You're right," Waller said, "I don't trust any of you. But for whatever reason Batman has decided to put his trust in you. That being said, I know that man has a way stored in whatever vault or recess of his mind on how to take down each and every one of you should the situation ever call for it, and you know it. That kind of knowledge helps keep a person honest."

"You think with Batman out of the way, we would have fewer inhibitions and fall prey to the same thinking that led the Justice Lords to their takeover?" J'onn summarized.

"It happened to them." Was her only reply.

"You have some issues with that theory," Diana seethed, furious that what had once appeared to be an extended had to help had once again been nothing more than an agenda, "It was the loss of Flash that set the course for the Justice Lords-"

"It was the loss of a Founding member," Waller stopped her abruptly, "But it was their Batman who did the right thing and fought back. And he did, because he's nothing like the rest of you."

That set Diana's hackles on end, but before she could act on the impulse to put Waller straight through the reinforced hull of the Watchtower, J'onn stepped in, his temper flaring at the insult to their dying friend.

"How dare you.." His voice lowered dangerously to a tone that would have made Bruce proud, "He is every bit the hero any one is in this tower-"

"But he's not," Waller argued back, not even flinching despite being trapped with two very angry metas, "Batman is not a hero like the rest of you, and before you go trying to break me in half, perhaps you should listen."

J'onn nor Diana relaxed their posture, but did take a fraction of a step away from the CADMUS Head, leveling glares at her, daring her to find a decent explanation to give her the right to insult Batman in such a grievous manner.

"You and the rest of your little club up her all claim to be the selfless saviors of Earth, performing your duties in the best interests of the people," She said calmly, "Because of that, you could justify damn near any action as being 'for the good of the people'. It's been done countless times in our own history, hell, the Crusaders killed all in the name of the Lord. But Batman? Batman is a vigilante, a selfish man who risks his life night after night because he couldn't stand to look at himself in the mirror otherwise. He does it, because an 8-year-old boy made a promise on his parents' grave that he would be the last person to ever know what it was like to be alone. Because of that, Batman is nothing like any of you, and that's why the world needs him."

Waller unlatched the cold storage container from the inside of the case and thrust it into J'onn's hands.

"The world needs someone to watch it from the shadows." She said quietly.

The room filled with silence until it felt like it would burst open. Had she not been born an Amazon, Diana would have hung her head in shame. Amanda Waller stood before her, an enemy to both Batman and the League, and yet she was willing to put all her own personal inhibitions to the wind to see that same enemy stand strong once again. Something besides depression stirred in her though. Waller was not ready to see the Dark Knight die, and no matter their differences, that was enough for Diana.

"Thank you," She said at last, breaking the silence.

"You can thank me when you call to tell me he's better." Waller huffed, once again all business, "And you can beam me back to Earth or whatever it's going to take to get me home."


Gotc: Sorry for the delay there everyone! New semester of school and whatnot, getting used to new professors, homework….blagh….homework. But I felt people out there needed some hope to cling to for poor Bats! Maybe there'll be more in the next chapter! But probably not. Heheheheheh, I really do enjoy being evil more than is healthy.

I'm one review shy of 100 as of now folks, so remember where my favorite link is and let me know what you thought of this! Kudeos for whomever reached 100, and extra cookies and waffles to anyone who gets the reference the gods made in this chapter! If you don't, don't worry about it! This isn't the last time it will come up….

Laters!