Disclaimer: DC owns all these characters as far as I know. No profit is gained by this fic.

This story is a sequel of sorts to "A Better World". There are spoilers. It is also a companion piece to another story of mine; The Powers That Be (which is a prequel to "A Better World"), but I'm going to try to write it so you don't have to read that one. We'll see how it goes.

Eternal 10: Healing

Diana locked the back door of the bar and headed up the stairs to her apartment. It was another good night, and it included the same crowd of friends and regulars, everybody now knowing her and accepting her as one of their own. There were even a few compliments about her new boots and black leather jacket. Along with the intimate conversation with Steve and all it meant to her, it really was good night.

She opened the door to her apartment and almost stepped inside when she realized that she wasn't tired at all and she didn't feel like being inside any more. The cool autumn air was calling.

So, she skipped back down the stairs and headed towards the street for a late, late evening stroll.

She hadn't gotten far before a dark van drove by her going the other way. It was the only car on the road and she couldn't help but notice the two men in the front seats. There was something about them—something that was a little off.

She got down on one knee, pretending to tie her bootlace, but really she just wanted to see where those two were headed. Her instincts were demanding that they were up to no good. She allowed a quick flash of relief when the van drove by Steve and Gail's house, as well as the tavern and her apartment. But just as quickly, a pang of concern hit her when they pulled into the gas station just a little ways further. It was the same place where the butt-end of a shotgun had cold cocked her off her feet the night she came to town.

The van pulled to the side of the building instead of the front—where security cameras wouldn't get a good look. She instantly recognized what was going to happen and she took off, sprinting at top speed to intercept. She ran on her toes as to keep down the clopping sound of her boots hitting the pavement. The cool air burned her lungs, but her adrenaline kept her energy spiked high.

The driver pulled a balaclava over his face and stayed in the van with the motor still running. Two other men, also masked, got out of the van, one from the front passenger seat and the other from the sliding door. They had long objects in their hands. Diana couldn't tell if they were simply bats or crowbars… or something more lethal like shotguns or rifles.

Still she kept sprinting. As she crossed over the embankment and into the parking lot, the driver noticed her and got out, slapping a tire iron into his palm.

"You don't want none of this," he warned with a deep, gruff voice.

She didn't answer. Still at an all-out sprint, she sprang into the air, spinning. Her first foot knocked the tire iron out of his hand and her back kick sent him flying into the van, cracking the grill and denting the hood. She landed, panting from excitement, making sure he was down for the count. Once it was clear he wouldn't get back up, she turned towards the building.

She bolted towards the doors and could see through the glass one of the suspects emptying the contents of the cash register into a cloth sack. The other had the fat lady backed up against a wall with her hands in the air, a black baseball bat against her throat. It was the same nasty lady that Diana had 'met' that one unpleasant night.

Diana blasted through the doors taking all three by surprise. She quickly assessed the situation. There were no firearms in sight – making things a little easier.

'Secure the hostage first.'

The moment the man saw Diana flying at him, he turned to give her his full attention. The lady against the wall tried to grab for the bat and he rewarded her with a full swing against her arm. She fell to the floor howling in pain.

As he turned back towards Diana, she was within attacking distance and he took another full swing. She dodged back, her arms up in the air, the bat missing her mid-section by mere inches. He followed up with a back swing at her head. He missed.

She dropped to the floor, wove her left foot behind one of his ankles and kicked with all her might at his knee. She felt it shatter under her boot and the sound of cracking bone resonated through the store. He collapsed, screaming in unimaginable agony, clutching his leg.

Still on the ground, she saw his accomplice fly over the counter. He had found the shopkeeper's shotgun and had it aimed right at her head.

Had she been Wonder Woman, she would have had the reflexes. Had she not been stripped of her bracelets, she may have even been able to block the buckshot from hitting her face. But she wasn't Wonder Woman and she had no defenses. She only had her agility and her Amazon warrior's knowledge.

She rolled hard and fast away from the man, trying to get to her feet quickly. She only got her body a few inches off the floor before she lunged down one of the merchandise isles. She heard a shotgun blast go off and she covered her head as she felt debris rain down on her.

Then there was nothing. No more shotgun blasts, no sounds of being pursued… just the seething and whimpering of the lady and the punk with a new permanent limp.

She cautiously peeked around the corner. The man no longer had the shotgun in his hand. Not only that, but he was also no longer on his feet, and she quickly discovered that he was no longer conscious. She stood up and looked around. She noticed that the one shot he managed to get off hadn't even been in her vicinity, but had blown a couple of tiles out of the ceiling.

Then she noticed the glass doors were slowly closing the last few inches into the jamb.

'Somebody was here.'

She ran out into the night, looking up and down the road, listening for signs.

Nothing.

Walking back into the store, she picked up the shotgun, emptied the shells and dropped it on the counter, then turned towards the shop keeper. As she crossed the floor the first thug screamed at her.

"YOU BITCH! YOU BROKE MY KNEE!"

She spared him a look of disgust before kicking the side of his face, knocking him out as well as, she considered, one or two of his teeth.

"Are you hurt badly?" she asked the lady.

"I think the bastard broke my arm," she answered before looking up. Diana saw her nametag: Andrea.

"I'll call for an ambulance. Where's the phone."

"Behind the counter," she answered, trying to get up.

"Stay there, I'll take care of it."

She found the phone and called for the paramedics and the police, rotating her attention from Andrea, to the two suspects on the floor, to the one in the parking lot… and for any signs of whoever had been the one to lend a hand. After hanging up, she went back to help the shop keeper.

"They'll be here soon," she tried to say with a soothing voice, but it came out with a little bit of venom. She couldn't help it; she still held some animosity for the unfortunate woman for what had happened the first time they met. Recognizing it for such, she tried to put it out of her mind and work on the new mysterious Samaritan. "Did you see the person that took out the one with the shotgun?"

"No," Andrea panted, her eyelids showing that she was slowly threatening to pass out from the pain. "I saw somebody, but I couldn't make out anything. It was a man, I could tell that much by the build, but he was dressed in black."

Diana turned back towards the door, trying to visualize what may have happened… how long it would have taken for a person to assess the situation, enter the shop, take out the assailant and leave again. Then she noticed the numbers up the door jamb – the ones on the doors of most convenience stores used to judge the height of any perpetrator fleeing the premises.

"Did you notice how tall he was?" she asked, still looking towards the door.

Andrea thought for a second before answering.

"I… I'm not sure," she admitted. "Could have been a little taller than six foot but I didn't get a good look."

'Bruce…' Diana thought. It wasn't a hard conclusion to reach. The number of people capable of pulling off a stunt like that was small enough as it was. Cross that against the number of people that would (let alone could) disappear into the night without a trace… there really was no reason to analyze it further.

Andrea interrupted her thoughts with a groggy question.

"Wh… Why did you…?"

"You were in trouble," Diana said as if it should have been obvious – and still not very warmly.

"But… the other day…"

Diana changed her train of thought and considered what the lady was really asking. She took a moment to consider it herself. There was nothing in her life that obliged her to do things like this anymore. She really could have easily kept to herself and just let it happen. She could have simply called the authorities from a safe distance. But that wasn't in her. Her bad first impression with this lady… the problems in her life… they paled in comparison and shrank to insignificance when compared to what she really was inside – what she would ALWAYS be. When she realized what she needed to say, her voice finally found the right tone for the situation.

"That doesn't matter anymore," she said. "Just try to get comfortable and stay conscious until the paramedics get here."

"Comfortable?" the lady scoffed.

One of the suspects groaned.

"Do you have anything I can tie them up with until the authorities arrive?"

"There should be some twine in the back room," Andrea nodded towards a door. "Check the metal shelves on the left."

Diana got the spool and a box cutter and headed back out to the parking lot. She bound the man outside first, securing him to the bumper of his van. As she started tying the other two suspects' hands behind their backs, Andrea got her attention again, her voice still breathless and weak.

"The… the other day… you said… you said you were Diana… from the Justice Lords. I didn't believe you then but… after seeing what you did here. I do now!" She managed a weak smile.

Diana didn't look at her, but kept to her task. Andrea's attempt at light conversation brought a sudden realization into her mind: When the police arrive, they will recognize her. That would raise all kinds of concerns and questions that she didn't want to even think about answering.

To make matters worse, a few concerned locals started trickling into the store. Clearly the shotgun blast had been heard by several neighbors and had piqued their curiosity.

"Andrea?" one man asked making his way to the lady's side. "Are you alright?"

The tying done, Diana stood up and stepped back as a couple more people filed past her, assessing the situation. She took another glance out the glass doors to see Steve hurrying his way through the parking lot.

'Oh, great! What am I going to tell him about all this?'

He slowed down before entering, clearly realizing that she was involved with whatever happened in the shop. She couldn't read his expression as he pushed the glass door open—something between concern or worry and confusion maybe.

"Are you alright?"

The question was simple and innocent enough, but there was something about him that made her feel self-conscious.

"I'm OK," she answered, unsure where to go from there.

"You know her, Steve?" Andrea called out with a little strength finding its ways into her voice.

"Yeah," he answered, still studying Diana's face.

Diana couldn't look back at him, her eyes quickly cast down as she waited for the truth to finally find its way into the open. Surely Andrea would tell him who she really was…

"She's my niece from Visalia," Steve continued, stepping past her towards the shopkeeper.

Diana fought to keep her surprise out of her face. She didn't know if she was successful or not.

"Well," Andrea declared, "she's a damn hero! We need more like her around here if you ask me!"

All eyes in the store locked onto her. She didn't know how to feel.

She had been the center of attention countless thousands of times and had saved bigger days than this one. But there was something about everybody's expression this time that made her uneasy, bashful almost. There was real admiration and gratitude. There was sincerity in their growing smiles as Andrea outlined what she had done. One man started clapping and before long, the small gathering was in an all-out applause. Even Steve.

She was blushing.

Saving lives, catching criminals… that was not new to her. But the whole feeling of this situation was so different. All those other times, she had been Wonder Woman or a Justice Lord. This time, she was just Diana. She had no powers. She had no magic lasso or bulletproof accoutrements. She was just another anonymous civilian, risking her own safety to do what was right. It was an old feeling in a way, but part of it was so exhilarating and new!

'If they really knew who I was, they wouldn't applaud.'

The faint sound of sirens reached them growing steadily louder. Before long, there were squad cars in the parking lot, followed shortly by an ambulance, their red and blue flashing lights assaulting the night. Steve excused himself from the small group of people and escorted Diana out of the store.

"Wait here," he told her as he went back inside. A minute later, he came out with a baseball cap, removing the price tag as he walked. "Here, put this on. Let's hope they don't recognize you."

She looked at him for clarification, but he just thrust the hat into her hands and nodded quickly, keeping his eyes on the police as they got out of their cars. She did as he recommended.

"How long have you…"

"You're kidding, right?" he interrupted quietly with a suppressed smile.

The police quickly assessed the situation, got statements from the people inside and secured the thugs. Upon Andrea's testimony, one officer approached Diana and Steve.

"Are you the person that subdued the suspects?"

"Yes," she answered not looking him in the eye.

"They say you're a hero, and I have to agree with them. We've been after these three for a while now. We think they've hit fourteen places in the past two months and we've never managed to get more that a few grainy pictures from old security cameras."

She still couldn't find a way to look the officer in the eye. In fact, the need to turn away was growing stronger each second. She was nervous for reasons she couldn't explain. She just wanted to get out of there and away from it all.

"I…" she stammered humbly, "I'm glad they're finally caught."

There was an uncomfortable silence for a second, as it seemed the man wanted Diana to say something more. She just wanted to run.

"Officer," Steve stepped in, "Will you need an official statement or anything tonight?"

"Well, we'll need to file a report of what happened and…"

"Because my niece isn't one for public attention. We would really like to keep her anonymity if at all possible."

The officer studied the two for a strong second, and then he nodded with understanding.

"I guess we could just report that a concerned citizen lent a hand and leave it at that."

Diana felt the warm rush of relief growing inside her heart.

"Thank you," Steve said, putting his arm around her shoulders, steering her towards the street.

They made their way back towards the highway in silence. Before long, they were climbing the stairs to Diana's apartment. She fumbled with the keys and her hands were shaking inexplicably as she tried the lock. Part of it could have been the receding rush of adrenaline, but there was something more. Steve took over and opened the door. She wandered in and numbly stood there in the dark before Steve turned on the light.

She watched him as he took one last evaluating look at her, then he turned to leave.

'He's doing it again!'

"Steve, wait. Could you stay for a while? There's something I want to tell you."

He didn't look surprised at all. There was still very little furniture in the apartment, but he found a comfortable spot in an easy chair. Diana stayed on her feet. She steeled herself for the confession she was formulating and she took a deep, cleansing breath.

"I was born Diana of Themyscira," she began, "Princess of the Amazons…"

XXXXX

An hour later…

"Steve, I don't know… I don't know what I want any more! I don't know who I am or where I belong!"

Sitting on the couch adjacent to him, she looked into his strong, kind eyes, hoping that he had answers for her… hoping that he would tell her that everything would be alright. She wanted him to tell her what she had to do to get rid of her confusion and her fears. Never before had she allowed somebody to be strong for her.

"So," he began slowly, summing things up. "You think that you've lost everything that you used to love. A few short hours ago, you thought you had found a few answers but now you feel that you will never outlive your past. And you believe that you have nothing to look forward to or pin your hopes on. Does that about sum it up?"

When he put it so succinctly, it sounded so severe… so absolute. But it wasn't that far off the mark. She nodded her head.

"I can't go back, Steve."

"And why not?"

"All the things I've said, all the things I've done. And, I still think that a lot of what the Justice Lords stand for is still true. Just look at what we've accomplished in such a short time! My mother will never see the righteousness in it."

"Hmmm… Let me ask you something, Diana; If you got your powers back tomorrow, would you stay here serving beer to bikers and pool sharks or would you go back to being a Justice Lord?"

"I… I really don't know."

Steve sighed, his eyes softening with understanding.

"I'm living proof that where you've been only affects where you're going if you allow it to. I believe that a person can change their ways if they find it within themselves to do so. But I also believe that people have souls, Diana. Call it their nature, call it their spirit, whatever. It takes a helluvalot to make people change that about themselves. And I look at you and I see a purity that I've only ever seen in a precious few."

He put his hand kindly on hers.

"It's your life, it's your choice. Yes, you were gifted and you used those gifts… maybe even abused them, but you're not that person anymore. There are many people that think that you've been a force for good and there are others that think that you haven't. It's not their consciences that you have to live with—it's yours. The only one you have to answer to anymore is you, and if you can sleep well at night, then there shouldn't be any need to second guess yourself. But if there's something nagging at you inside, then you're smart enough to figure out what it is what you have to do to fix it."

He patted her hand and stood up to leave. She stood as well and followed him to the door.

"Believe me," he said, his voice lifting to finish the conversation with a lighter tone, "you'll regret the things you don't do a lot more than the things that you do. When you get to be my age…"

"Your age?" she asked with smirk and a raised eyebrow.

He had to think for a second before he realized what she meant.

"OK, I might not be centuries old, but it's not the years, darlin'… it's the mileage."

She laughed warmly and gave him a firm and affectionate hug. He opened the door and headed down the stairs before she stopped him with one last thought for the night.

"Steve… uh… listen… Tomorrow... If you won't be needing me I…"

"It's alright Angel. Gail and I will get by without you for a few days."

He winked and continued down the stairs.

She wore a smile as she closed the door. She knew what she had to do.

She had only used the pre-paid cell phone she got just a few days ago to place one call so far. For pizza. This call was going to be a much more difficult.

It was almost 5:00 in the morning in Gotham. She didn't expect him to actually answer. In fact she had hoped to leave a message.

No such luck.

"Hello?"

"Bruce? It's Diana."

Justice League Diana couldn't believe what she had just heard.

"We were in love."

She wasn't even considering Justice Lord Batman's relationship with Justice Lord Diana when she had asked him about her. She wanted to know more about her as a person. How was she before? Had she changed over the years? How had she been able to embrace the Justice Lord Doctrine when it clearly was so contradictory to what she knew about her own mission in life and the way of the Amazons?

But it was a simple mistake. She had simply asked him to tell her about that other Diana. She never specified that he talk about anything specific about her.

"It started a few years ago," he continued. "There was always an attraction, but one day we crossed that line…"

He continued to talk in frustratingly clinical terminology about their romance. As he spoke, Diana's own emotions transitioned from initial surprise, through impatience for more juicy detail, to understanding.

Understanding that he was talking without being asked one thing more.

'He's confessing.'

While it was true that he was, indeed, releasing all kinds of personal issues that any normal person would be happy to vent, he was not any normal person… which made her all the more curious to hear what he had to say.

"After… after Alfred died, I asked her to move in. Something had changed by then, and living together only magnified it. I was in 'damage control' mode. Things were getting worse. It was an attempt to save whatever was left, but it… might have been a mistake. Things hit a downward spiral after that point."

He paused, never looking at her but keeping his face angled down towards the gravel.

"What changed?" she asked.

"I really don't know. It might have begun with Flash's murder… maybe even before that… I can't tell for sure. Looking back now, it seems that things were cooling off a lot by that time, but the whole incident with Flash, the President Luthor… I never really had a relationship like that... I…"

He paused, his head shaking.

She caught it and something occurred to her.

"You think that was your fault?"

He didn't answer and she didn't need him to. He almost looked at her, but instead he sighed and turned his attention back towards the ground. A few rough seconds later, his posture solidified and his face grew a frigid scowl.

"It doesn't matter," he said with Batman's voice. "It's over now. Relationships in our line of work are a bad idea. They never work out. Right now my top priority is to make sure that the Justice Lords get reformed. I only hope that your Batman can succeed where I failed."

'Me, too.' Diana thought.

Justice League Batman shut down the inter-dimensional transporter. If he did his job right, Justice Lord Batman would never suspect that he had been there for the past 3 hours. He would never know that he covertly transported back into his own cave and accessed the computers. There would be no record that he tapped into Diana's COM link. There would be no evidence that he recorded their entire conversation and brought it back with him.

He unloaded the memory stick on which the conversation file was saved. He listened to the conversation, paying particular attention to everything his counterpart said. Then he listened again, paying even closer attention to everything his Diana said, and more importantly, the way she said it. He was still deeply in thought when his phone rang. The caller ID showed a number he didn't know.

"Hello?"

"Bruce? It's Diana."

AN: Sorry this took longer to post than I anticipated. I've been out of commission for a couple weeks, but don't fret. Whigmus Lister is still upright and above ground.

Thanks for reading!
WL