Disclaimer: I don't own the Justice League. No profit is gained by this fic.

AN: Hepburn Rocks. Period.

Eternal 11: Intentions

"Hello?"

"Bruce? It's Diana."

No answer.

The pause was long enough to make her wary. She thought she heard him take a breath, but when he didn't speak she gave in.

"I…" she started, but her mind couldn't find the right words. She sighed loudly and shook her head, trying to regain the confidence she thought she had only a moment ago. "Bruce, I think I…"

She couldn't finish. She had forgotten what it was that she wanted to say. Did she want to apologize? Did she want to ask for him to explain himself? Did she want to confess all the boiling emotions that she was trying so desperately to understand? Did she want to share with him all that she'd experienced in the short time since he abandoned her to her own conscious and a harsh world?

She didn't know.

But he didn't give her a chance to decide.

"Come home," he said softly.

9:30 am, ex-Lord Diana's apartment

She didn't sleep at all.

She had very little to pack and had nothing to pack it into, so she stuffed everything into a black trash bag and sealed it with duct tape. After the ten minutes it took to do that, she started going over and over in her mind what she wanted to say to Bruce. She thought it over and over and over, again and again and again. Each time, she revised her thoughts anew. She omitted items and she included others, only to reintroduce or remove them during the next go-around in her mind.

Trying to reconcile with Bruce was the right thing to do-that was one thing she was sure of. Her nervousness and indecision didn't sway that. If nothing else, she would at least talk to him. She would tell him how she had finally come to grips with the past two years. She had finally confronted Flash's murder in her mind, and while the pain was and always would be difficult, it was part of life and she accepted it. She had recognized that she needed to bring Love and Hope back into her own life. She would delicately open a discussion about the Justice Lords, their mission, their tactics, etc. She would try to keep an open mind when she asked him why he betrayed them all, although she still reserved the right to consider him in the wrong.

And she wondered if there was any love left in his heart for her. She didn't know about her own, yet.

He had offered to send her money. She refused. The thought that she had earned enough to make her way back to Gotham on her own brought a surprising degree of satisfaction. She wanted to continue making her own way. She also welcomed the opportunity to see a little bit more of the world through the eyes of an average person. She'd take the bus, she decided.

He told her to call him if she had any trouble. She politely said she would, although she wasn't too sure if that was true. She wanted to be as independent as possible. At any rate, she knew he was monitoring her somehow… how else could he have helped out at the convenience store the night before? But she played along, reassuring him that she'd be safe and would keep in touch.

She finished washing up in the kitchen and tried to clean everything as best she could. She put things in order and had to remind herself that she wouldn't be coming back to this apartment – not to live here anyway. Even if she didn't find a way to restore her powers and reclaim her role as Justice Lord Diana, she thought she might want to find a place on the coast – near the ocean, like her birth home…Themyscira.

That thought, of course, brought her mind to Steve and Gail Trevor. She had told Steve that she wanted a few days off, but now she knew that she would have to tell him 'goodbye'. There had to be some way to show her appreciation to them. For a fleeting second, she considered asking Bruce to do something nice for them, but then perished the thought. Bruce didn't owe her anything and she wouldn't start her new, independent life asking a billionaire for favors. No, she'd find some other way.

She tucked the small black bundle under her arm, locked the door one last time and spritely trotted down the stairs. Steve and Gail were in matching rocking chairs on their front porch, enjoying the fine morning. Their old hound dog was lying lazily between them.

"Steve, Gail!" she called out as she approached. Both faces greeted her with blossoming smiles.

The three engaged pleasantly in polite conversation before Diana explained her change of mind. They accepted it with grace and understanding, although they confided that they'd miss her. Eventually, Diana drew everything to a close, handing Steve the key to the apartment.

"Well, I'm off! I have to get to the bus station to head back to Gotham."

Gail's face grew a knowing grin and she stood up. She bid Diana farewell with a warm hug and retreated into the house, claiming to get ready for Sunday Church services.

Steve's face was struggling between smiling and trying to hide the sadness he felt of Diana's going. His eyes beamed and betrayed a hint of tears. He stood gazing at Diana with fondness and maybe a touch of pride for a few seconds. She didn't know exactly what he was thinking or feeling, but had a suspicion that he was up to something more than saying goodbye.

"Come with me," he said finally, taking her hand.

He led her around the house, down a brick pathway that led past the vegetable garden and to an old metal barn that was partially hidden by unruly trees. He unlocked the large sliding door and with a little effort, slid it open. The sunlight cast into the musty darkness, exposing odd items scattered here or piled up there. Diana stayed at the door's opening as Steve stepped in.

"As you know, Gail and I never had any kids," he said as he moseyed over to some object covered with gray canvass. "I put this away, hoping to give it to a son I never had. She always pestered me to sell it, but I had a feeling that it would come in handy some day. It's my pride and joy… a little something I've kept from my youth."

With that, he threw the canvass to the side to reveal one of the most amazing motorcycles Diana had ever seen.

"This is my 1948 Pan Bobber," he explained with a gleam in his eye. "As luck would have it, I got the urge to spruce her up about a month before you arrived. She's in great shape and she's full of gas…"

He tore his eyes from the treasure and looked directly into hers.

"…And now she's yours!"

Diana was absolutely dumbstruck. She had flown missions on interplanetary spacecraft. She had lived on board the most sophisticated and advanced machine ever built by man. She had personally driven the Batmobile on countless occasions. She even owned her own jet. But there was something about this amazing, shining, classic bike that revved her heart into a merciless pounding. Involuntarily, she dropped her trash bag full of stuff as her eyes widened and her jaw dropped.

"Oh, Steve…" she sighed, gingerly taking a step forward.

She knew she should have protested – if only for modesty's sake. She knew that this incredible machine was far too precious of a gift to accept. She knew that the monetary value alone would be substantial, not to mention the sentiment obviously attached to it. There were so many reasons why she should have declined.

But she didn't. She couldn't. She wanted it! The thought of straddling that rumbling machine and cruising down the highway, the wind in her face and the scenery rolling by… oh, she wanted it so badly!

'Besides,' she convinced herself, 'it's obviously his heart's desire to give this bike to somebody special!'

Her fingers intimately stroked the custom flame-on-black paint job and she noted how the finish caught her reflection like a dark mirror. She gracefully walked around it, her eyes taking in every fine detail, every shine and shimmer. She marveled at its precision and how it looked so raw and powerful while also looking so timeless and refined.

Steve stood back and watched her as she admired his gift. After what seemed like a small eternity, she finally tore her gaze away from it and looked at him with watering eyes. She didn't say a word as she spanned the distance between them in a few strong strides. She flung her arms around his neck and buried her face into his shoulder. Chuckling, he affectionately returned her embrace, patting her back firmly.

"Oh, Steve!" she said again into his shirt, squeezing him tightly. "Steve, Steve, STEVE! "

She pulled back and took his hands in hers.

"I don't know what to say," she finally confessed.

"There's nothing to say," he replied. "I told you before; I'm a good judge of character. I know that you two will take care of each other, and I know you'll fall in love with her just as I did all those years ago!"

Diana looked back at her new motorcycle.

"Oh, I already have!"

With that, he pulled a new, sleek black helmet out of a box and handed it to her. She took it and started to put it on before she even realized that he had handed her yet another gift. She shook her head, smiling at him as she secured the strap under her chin. He told her to sit on it and 'try it on for size', which she happily and eagerly did. She stroked the handlebars, noting each and every control. Before she knew it, he had gathered her plastic bag and secured it behind the seat with an elastic cord net.

"Does she have a name?" Diana asked him.

"I used to call her 'Susie' a long time ago, but I expect that you'll want to change that."

"I like 'Susie'," she confessed. "It's a good name. But on formal occasions, I think I'll call her 'Athena'!"

Steve nodded, a knowing smile growing across his face. Diana thought about how much she liked seeing him smile.

'Susie' started up easily with a roar and settled into a throaty idle. Steve's hands thrust into his pockets and he rocked on his heels, looking at the dusty ground as Diana steered her sleek machine towards the barn doors. She stopped in front of him, reached up and cupped his cheek in her palm. He slid his reddening eyes up to meet hers.

"You said that you wanted to give her to a son. Tell Gail that, instead, you gave her to a daughter."

He took her hand from his face, clasping it in both of his. He kissed her fingers lovingly and stepped back, giving her room to launch out into the world on her own.

ALPHA WORLD - Batcave

Lois nodded as Batman allowed her to enter the training arena alone, closing the door behind her. She silently made her way towards the holding cell he specified and gingerly stepped around to the front, finding Ex-Lord Superman slumped in a chair staring numbly at the television.

"Oh, Christ…" he muttered finally noticing her presence. He shook his head, eyes caught in a web of bewilderment. "Don't you have ANY sense of security at all anymore?" he shouted towards the ceiling, making Lois jump.

It took a second for her to realize that he was trying to talk to Bruce.

"He's not here," she said.

"Yes he is," Lord Superman spat at her as if she were stupid. "He's all over this damn place. If you think for one second that every twitch you make isn't being monitored, recorded and analyzed for him to use against you some time later on, then you're a bigger fool than I thought."

"I'm a fool?" she asked incredulously.

"You're human."

She stared at him, truly confused by his words, his body language, his facial expressions. She pondered honestly if he had lost his sanity along with his powers.

In any case, she wasn't about to stand idly by while he proved how utterly pig-headed he could be.

"Well, from what I understand, so are you."

His head snapped around and he glared at her intensely.

"I am NOT human," he growled slowly, dangerously. "That thing took my powers, not my physiology."

He turned back towards the cursed television.

She waited.

After a few difficult moments, she spoke again.

"Bruce thought that I might be able to talk to you."

"About what?" he asked as if it mattered.

"About where you go from here."

His eyes rolled.

"Well, I've been so busy lately," he staid mockingly, "sulking and melting my brain with this damned TV… but I have managed to form a little 'To Do' list… Would you care to hear it Lois?"

It was obviously a rhetorical question, and his smart-ass attitude frustrated her even further. Before she could form a retort, his attitude and his expression turned serious.

"I get out of here, get my powers back, reduce that traitor to a pile of ash and bring order back to this wretched planet."

"Oh, well, if that's all," she said, turning to leave, "then you probably don't need me to…"

"No, I don't need you!" he interrupted her, making her stop in her tracks.

"That's right," she teased. "The High and Mighty Lord Superman doesn't need anybody. Well, then, Your Majesty… go ahead and break out of your kennel and take the planet over again!"

She saw his mouth tighten and his jaw shift.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she continued condescendingly, "you can't break out of there because your powers are gone for good now, aren't they? And even if they can be restored, do you honestly think Bruce would let you get them back? If he thought that there was even a chance of that happening… of you becoming dangerous, do you think he wouldn't eliminate your sorry ass?"

He shifted uncomfortably, reaffirming her suspicions; he hadn't thought of things like that.

"Come on Kal-El," she said, using his Kryptonian name as an insult. "You know better than that! Why on God's green Earth would he keep you around if he thought that you were really a threat?"

He launched out his chair and rushed at her, stopping just short of barging into the barrier, making her take a step back involuntarily. He slammed both fists over his head against the Plexiglas as he ranted.

"He's a dead man! You're all dead! You, Lana… anybody that could ever hold anything over my head is dead! I'm so sick of all this bullshit. You people think you can coerce me into going against what I know. You try to bribe me with all your sentimental garbage! He tries to use my mother and you… You're USELESS to me! This whole damn planet is USELESS!"

Lois stood there slack-jawed watching the man she used to love rage on like a psychopath. Her hollow chest started to burn and her guts wrenched with pain and loathing and betrayal. Her stunning, violet eyes watered and her face twisted with disbelief. For the first time ever, she truly started to fear this man… this creature. It took a few seconds to realize that he stopped his raving because something behind her caught his attention.

She spun around to see the Dark Knight looming in the shadows, glaring icily at his prisoner.

"Lois… leave," Batman told her, his cold voice crushing her even further. "Now."

She nodded frantically, stole one last glance at the lunatic that slightly resembled Clark Kent and quickly left. She turned the corner around the cell, into the shadows of the training arena and broke out into a sprint towards the door. Behind her she heard 'Clark' yelling again, then the sound of the cell door opening…

Then she heard the sounds of a struggle. She blocked the sounds out of her mind; the sounds of Clark's grunts and of gloved fists pummeling flesh. She blasted through the door and across the catwalk towards the computer consoles. She collapsed into a chair, shaking uncontrollably and gushing sob after sob into her hands.

It took her a few moments to even register Shayera was there next to her. Still, she continued to convulse as she cried. Her confusion and fear and breaking heart forced themselves released. After a flooded moment, she turned, sniffling, and gawked at the former Lord through her teary eyes.

Lord Hawkgirl was in her uniform, wings and all, sitting at the controls of the powerful computer systems, studying the monitors intently. Lois was keenly aware that she was a blubbering spectacle and her fear and sorrow melted into confusion and concern when she slowly realized that Shayera didn't even pay her any attention at all; she was just glued to the monitors. And her face was as hard as granite.

Lois turned to see what it was that occupied her so. There, on the biggest screen of all was a view of Lord Superman's cell. Batman was standing solidly above the slumped-over mass of Clark. His mouth was moving, but the sound was down. She could see that Clark was writhing slowly, and breathing heavily. After a few seconds, he lunged at Batman's knees and was rewarded with a clever move that brought a devastating elbow square between his shoulder blades.

He collapsed for a second, tried again, and again his attack was countered rather easily and he wound up face down on the floor.

Lois's breath was stolen from her lungs.

She was horrified to see the brutality and Bruce's frigid expression, but as sickening as it was to watch, she couldn't tear her eyes away. Before long, she discovered a building, morbid curiosity within.

"Is there any sound?" she asked Shayera weakly, not turning from the scenes.

Without a word, the volume was turned up and the two women listened in.

"You chicken shit!" Clark's raspy voice growled. "You'll NEVER break me!"

"We'll see," Batman said coldly.

"I was RIGHT! I was ALWAYS right! And every time you come in here you only prove my point!"

Clark got up on his hands and knees, his head still hanging heavily.

"And every time you utter your stupidity, you prove mine."

"Yeah? And what point is that?"

"That you're not Superman any more. You haven't been for a long time. You may have had his powers, but that wasn't what made him great."

"That's right! What made ME great was the WILL TO USE THEM!"

Again, Clark dove at Bruce.

Lois's eyebrows knit in sheer confusion and helplessness. She knew these two men—especially Clark—better than most people. She knew of their past and their relationship. She had listened to Clark over the years as he described his frustration and his admiration and his distaste and his love for Bruce. She cataloged his changes as the Justice League reformed into the Justice Lords. She deliberately kept her mouth shut as her lover started speaking of Batman more and more as a tool to be used rather than a colleague and friend, but she lamented it just the same. She had the vain hope that it would pass.

She was wrong, it didn't pass. It grew worse.

Watching the two men, whom she knew to once be the best of friends, fight in a real struggle of hatred… it tore her heart to pieces. But she couldn't turn away.

She was desperately trying to see if there was any shred of the Clark that she fell in love with in that body. She was praying that Batman would have mercy and allow him to retreat with some degree of dignity. She was hoping against hope that Clark would start to realize what she had been too afraid to tell him; that he was losing everything.

No, he has LOST everything.

Again, Batman subdued him without a speck of effort.

"It's not the will that was wrong Kent," Batman said. "It was the motive. Just like everything else a person does, without taking intent into account, nothing is fully understood."

"My intent was to make this a better world!"

"Really? You sure about that?"

"Absolutely!"

"And how's that working out for you?"

"Fine until you betrayed all of us!"

As Batman continued to tower over him in dominant fashion, Clark's aggression seemed to recede and he rolled onto his side, then up into a sitting position, head still hanging.

Neither man moved or spoke for a few suspenseful seconds. Eventually, Batman turned to the look directly at the camera.

"Shayera."

Without saying a word to Lois, Lord Hawkgirl stood up and made her way briskly across the catwalk and through the door.

Lois watched the monitor as she came into view. Clark raised his head and his profile was all she could see of his face, but it was clear that his expression was intensely aggravated.

"You, too?" he asked, although it sounded more like a statement.

"No," she corrected him. "I didn't betray the Lords, Clark, or even you. I realized that the Justice Lords had gone too far—that we betrayed the world and I want to help make it right again."

"Yeah? Did you come up with this on your own or did HE help you?"

"Both."

Clark shook his head and laughed sadly.

"Then you're either stupider than I thought or just as big of a coward as he is! Tell me, what exactly was it that changed your mind?"

"It wasn't any one thing," Shayera answered, shaking her head. "It was EVERYTHING. When I look back at where we were three years ago and compare that to where we were last month, I don't like what I see."

"Three years ago was HELL!" Clark shouted, banging his fist against the wall. "The corrupt had infiltrated every level of society all over the world. The masses were reduced to living like CATTLE and the bastards in power didn't think twice about ruining whole communities for their own self-righteous whims!"

"And what are they now, Clark? Now the whole WORLD is cattle and WE'RE the bastards in power."

Lois hadn't noticed that Batman had slowly and stealthily moved outside the cell as the others talked. Without much warning, the Plexiglas shield slammed shut, separating Clark from the world once more.

The pause in the argument continued as she watched with baited breath. Clark leaned back against the concrete wall letting his legs flop out in front of him. He tilted his head back and she could see the swelling and bruising begin to form.

"Clark…" Shayera began.

"Don't call me that," he interrupted.

She paused.

"OK. I guess that means I should call you Kal-El, because Batman's right; you're NOT Superman anymore."

From Lois's vantage point it didn't look like he cared one way other the other.

"Do you have any idea," she continued, "why it is that he's keeping you here?"

No answer.

"He let you lobotomize the Joker, for Christ's sake. If he didn't think you had a positive role to play, don't you think he would have done something similar to you? Do you think he'd leave you in here if he didn't want you around?"

"Ever occur to you that he simply wants to get his kicks out of torturing me?"

"Actually, it has. But has it ever occurred to you that if that were really the case, then he would go about it without all the trouble of trying to help you change your mind?"

Clark's head lolled over to look out at his 'visitor'.

"You really are pathetic, aren't you? Do you honestly think that he's torturing me by beating me up? These are just bruises. What better way to torture a person than to force them to betray all that they hold dear?"

Shayera's eyes wandered as she considered the truth to that question.

"Of course you wouldn't know that," he spat out, looking back at the imaginary point a thousand miles in front of him. "You're so desperate to find something to cling on to that you don't even realize that he's already made you into what he wants you to be. Next thing you know, he'll be finding some way to take away your wings."

That got her attention.

Clark noticed.

"He already has, hasn't he?" he laughed.

She didn't answer.

"He's already cowed you in and he's working on the rest of us. He wants to take us BACK to where we were when he still had enough power to influence our decisions. He's still stuck on that pathetic insecurity that he's become useless now. That the rest of us are realizing our potential and that he's still just a man."

Shayera straightened her posture and replied with authority in her voice.

"He DOES want to take us back. He wants to take us back to when we were HELPING the people of this world, not reigning over them."

"Yeah? Since you're so good at thinking back, then think about this; if he had attacked you a month ago… I mean REALLY attacked you, would you have hesitated for even a second to kill him? Now, think hard, Shayera… if he had attacked you three years ago, how much would you have hesitated then?"

"The will to kill or not is NOT the issue…"

"He wants to control it all himself, you fool."

"Then why doesn't he just kill you?"

"You mean, besides the fact that he gets his power trips from torturing me? Simple: he doesn't want to make me a martyr."

Lois jumped out of her skin when the Batman briskly took his seat at the controls next to her. She didn't even notice on the screen that he had left the training arena.

She silently watched him as his fingers assaulted the keyboards. Within seconds a secondary monitor showed a recording that the time and date stamp in the corner indicated was from earlier that day. It was a view that she recognized instantly…the Metropolis skyline. He continued typing commands and without having to be told, she could tell that he fed the image into the television in Clark's cell.

Clark painfully climbed up off of the floor and collapsed into the chair, watching with an expression of boredom plastered all over his bruising face. Shayera, too, had her eyes fixed on the screen as the image zoomed in on a single, tall building: City Hall.

The image continued to zoom and re-resolution itself into clarity until it was fixed on a window to the Mayor's office. The volume was turned up and two men were speaking; one was clearly the Mayor as his voice was so distinguishable. The other was unknown—until Perry White stepped into view of the window.

"Mr. Mayor, I just report the news, I don't make it."

"I know, Perry. And I'm not asking you to print anything that isn't factual, you know that, but if you're willing to take the risk of reporting THE WHOLE TRUTH, then I'm willing to put my career… hell, even my LIFE on the line to back you up."

"So, you're saying that you'll stand up to the Justice Lords if they go after me for printing the results of this poll?"

"Absolutely! And if we play our cards right, the Governor will be in our corner too, for what that's worth."

There was a solid pause before the Mayor spoke again.

"Honestly, Perry. It's not the printing of the poll that you've got to worry about. The very fact that you even CONDUCTED the poll could get you lobotomized!"

The two men shared a nervous and forced chuckle. Before long, Perry closed the discussion.

"Alright, then. Tomorrow's headlines will show how basically… if given a choice between President Luthor and the Justice Lords, the people of Metropolis would rather see SUPERMAN dead…"

John Stewart watched Sinestro as he lifted his ringed hand and the eerie yellow glow extended towards him in a gentle column. As it grew closer, he could see that a Yellow Lantern ring was being offered to him.

Before it got too close, John's peripheral vision caught a hidden flash of green and a quick, shrill sound from the distance, making him turn his head to the right. In the inky darkness, he could make out something huge barreling through the sky; the stray stars eclipsed by the hulking mass flying in his general direction.

Sinestro caught it too, and he had just enough presence of mind to construct a protective bubble around himself as a rock the size of a house blasted into him like a freight train. The Yellow Lantern ring he was offering to John fell helplessly onto the dusty ground.

Like a shot, the Yellow Lantern erupted out of the rubble and into the night sky. He took a second to gain his bearings, and then he streaked off towards where the rock had come from.

Dumbfounded, all John could do was watch the yellow streak blaze over the nearby ridge half a mile away. Within seconds, yellow and green flashes exploded like fireworks from the valley beyond. The distant rumbling shook the ground and thunderous roars made his chest quiver.

He picked up the yellow ring and put it into his pocket before he started sprinting for the hillside and the supernatural flashes of cosmic battle.

He sprinted hard, trying desperately in the darkness to see his way over the uneven rocky terrain and to dodge odd branches and vegetation. He reached the base of the hill, one of the largest for miles around. He forced his tired legs to continue pumping as his thigh muscles screamed at him to stop. The brilliant flashes over the hill's crest grew brighter and more frequent.

Panting as he charged up the hill, John's excitement grew a streak of concern when he noticed that the flashes of green were growing fewer and farther between. The blasts of yellow never diminished, but the greens were less intense, less vivid. The ground trembled more as each yellow flash burst into the night and each faint green seemed more like a crackle than a roar.

John drove himself faster, harder. The first pangs of horror started to seep into his heart. He forced himself to run faster, to fly up the hill and to the other side.

Kat was in trouble.

The sweat was pouring out of his skin as he willed himself to sprint up the steep incline. His lungs burned, his rubbery legs threatened to fail him, yet still he ran.

The yellow bursts melted into one continuous yellow glow. The green ones seemed to stop altogether.

"NO!" he growled through clenched teeth as neared the crest.

The hilltop was within reach and John dug deep within to find the energy to run faster. He crested the peak and could make out a long, thin yellow glow stretched across the valley in front of him. He couldn't see the bodies clearly, but from his left to his right he could just make out that Sinestro was feeding a stream of power at an enormous boulder, driving it into the shrinking bubble that Katma Tui was desperately trying to maintain around herself.

"KAT!" John shouted as the scene infused him with a second wind.

Pieces of the boulder crumbled at the point of contact, dropping dust and debris on Kat's shield as it grew fainter and smaller with each passing second. Before long, a jagged crack started to spread in the energy.

With renewed invigoration and a concrete will to save his friend, John hurdled a fallen tree as he began his race down the hillside. He ran faster and faster, driving his feet to keep up with his momentum. He focused in on the boulder, his jaw grinding from his determination.

It was the boulder that became the focus of his entire wrath. In that moment, it was the one thing that he hated most in life. It became the symbol of all that he knew to be wrong… the evil he needed to destroy.

He was running faster, the loose rocks and obstacles not even registering in his brain. His legs felt like they were moving at an almost blinding speed, as if they had no connection to his body, but instead had a mind of their own. He leaned forward as he accelerated faster and faster down the slope.

A low guttural snarl grew from his throat. It bloomed into a rumbling in his chest and eventually into a primal roar from his mouth. Without warning every object in his vision paled as if it were drained of all color and the night's darkness melted away, yet the details of everything he saw became crystal clear. The landscape flew by him as he streaked at the boulder.

On their own, his arms stopped pumping and his fists stretched out in front of him.

So intensely locked was his focus that he didn't see the ground streaking beneath him. He didn't notice that his legs had stopped churning. He didn't care that he wasn't touching the ground anymore. He didn't notice that the colors of the landscape were so pale because of a blinding green glow radiating off his body.

And he didn't feel a single ounce of pain when his taught frame, spearheaded with his twin fists, blasted through the huge boulder with an apocalyptic explosion.

Streaking through the night sky, he circled around and found a new hatred to focus on.

He thrust his right fist in front of him and a devastating column of green energy erupted out at the enemy below. The cataclysmic explosion annihilated rocks and trees in all directions when John's might collided with Sinestro's desperate yellow shield.

When John pulled back, he saw his opponent standing disoriented on a single column of rock in the center of a titanic crater. Still hovering, he raised his fist over his head and growled out a tremendous battle cry. His ring constructed a huge green rod and as he swung it at his opponent, it molded into an enormous baseball bat.

As quickly as he could, Sinestro brought his fist to bear and tried to protect himself from the torrential impact. The green bat and the yellow shield exploded upon collision, and the more determined will won out; Sinestro was blasted off his rocky perch and flew head long across the landscape.

John streaked through the night sky once again on his mission. He honed his ring in on the alien power source and when he saw his enemy unsteadily regaining his feet, he thrust his fist forward, sending the green power to do his will.

The energy from John's ring melted into a mammoth bulldozer bucket and shoveled up tons of rock and dirt around Sinestro's disoriented body. The green bucket then enclosed the mass, compacting it down into a huge ball. John gritted his teeth and his left hand grabbed his right wrist as he concentrated all his effort on squeezing. After a moment of staggering effort, when an entire world of frustration had been flushed through his shaking fist, John regained a modicum of composure and collected himself with a deep breath.

Still holding his prey captive, John hovered high above the ground, considering his next option. He didn't flinch when Kat, exhausted and disheveled, appeared next to him in her own glowing aura.

"John," she started, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Killing him…"

"… Would be wrong," he sighed, his face relaxing for the first time of the night.

Kat's hand slipped off him as she let out a relieved breath.

"But a party's not over until you clean up the trash," he said, his brilliant green eyes growing shrewd.

With that, he swing his arm violently around and the ball of rock, dirt and debris, with the crumpled body of Sinestro still encased within, flung deep out into space at mind-boggling speed.

The two Green Lanterns kept their eyes locked in the direction it disappeared as they gently floated back towards the ground.

"He won't be able to free himself from that for a long time," Kat observed. "I'll send word to the Guardians to have a battalion pick him up."

When they landed, John absently looked at his right hand for a moment. He heaved a cleansing sigh, then he gently closed his eyes. Softly, the green glow engulfed his body and he lifted off the ground again. It was only a few inches and only for a few seconds, but his expression showed how much satisfaction and confidence was welling through him.

Kat watched with untold joy and pride spreading from her heart throughout her aching limbs. Then her eyebrows knit in confusion when she saw John's expression grow concerned. He locked his eyes on hers and she read worry where only a second ago she saw peace. He gently touched back down and gingerly reached into his pocket. When he pulled out the unused Yellow Lantern ring, she began to understand his concern.

She took it from his grasp.

"It wasn't this that gave you power, John. It was your will. It was your ring that let you do those things."

John's green eyes wandered in thought for a moment. Then, as if to make sure, his body began to glow and he lifted a few inches into the air again.

"See?" she asked, holding up the other ring.

"Yeah, I…" John said with some difficulty. "I know, Kat. But… it felt different. It felt dark. I wasn't fighting him because of who he is, or what he represents. Part of me wanted to kill him. Part of me hated him, Kat. And that's how those things work."

He nodded at the ring in her hand.

"They work on hate and fear," he continued as if she didn't know that.

"You're right," she agreed. "These work on hate and fear, but these work on the will of righteous people wanting to uphold justice."

And her own ring started to glow.

"You wouldn't have been able to save me if your underlying motive wasn't justice, John. I'm sure you felt a streak of darkness. I've been there before, too. And given what's happened with you over the past two years, it's no wonder. But the ring can't be fooled, John. It's your intentions behind your will that feeds the power."

He took a moment to consider how right she was.

"Come on," she suggested, lifting into the air. "Let's head up to the instructor's quarters and get a good night's sleep. I'll contact Oa and you can head back to Earth when you've rested up."

He gave her a moment's head start as he considered his intentions. He willed himself a few inches into the air yet again. While hovering, he deliberately thought of Batman. The image of killing him caused the green glow around him to sputter. Before he fell back to the ground, he focused on changing his visions. The thought of Batman behind bars brought his power back.

"Vengeance is not justice," he muttered to himself as he flew up into the dark night after Katma Tui. "Justice will be done."

AN: I could go on about why it took so long to get this chapter out. But I'm sure you're sick of hearing it. So, I won't bother. But for what it's worth, I'm sorry!