A/N: Thank you for the reviews! And massive thanks to Angel Queen, as always :)
Chapter Thirteen - Separation
Since she had heard Artemis's words, the air in Diana's lungs had become acid. It didn't seem possible. Then again, a lot of things that had been impossible before kept happening since Bruce's death.
There was one good thing, though. Since that day, she had been weak. She had been barely existing. She had no energy. Now, though, she was strong. She was so angry that she could have burned the world to the ground and rejoiced over the flames. She was alive — more alive than she ever had been ever before. Strong. Black and white. Only one thing mattered now. The truth.
She went through the Watchtower as a hurricane would. If someone called her name, she didn't hear it. If someone didn't give her the clearance to leave the Watchtower hanger, her jet was armed. She kept one hand on the controls of her jet, the other tightly clutching the seat. She did not wish that she still carried the Lasso of Truth. If she had to, she would beat the truth from Hippolyta's lips.
She landed on the beach on Themyscira. It was the middle of the night; there were no lights in the section of the palace that contained her mother's chambers. In the darkness of her fury, Diana was too blind to see the window or the balcony. Instead she smashed through the wall itself.
Hippolyta was a trained warrior; she was out of her bed by the time the dust settled, knife in hand. Diana had stopped long enough for her vision to give her a clear target, and then she flew forward, wrapping her hand around the queen's neck.
"Is it true?"
"Is what…" Hippolyta choked. Her eyes widened when she they finally saw her attacker. "Diana…"
Her fingers tightened. "Is it true?!"
It took her almost a minute to realise that Hippolyta could no longer breathe, and to let go. The queen slumped against the wall, struggling to catch her breath. Diana watched with blazing eyes. Her voice trembled. "Did you know about the ritual? Is the goddess of the hunt telling me the truth? Which one of the females I have worshipped since I was a child is lying to me?!"
Finally Hippolyta answered. "I did not lie."
There had always been three parts to Diana. The little girl wanted to fall to her knees and sob. The Amazon wanted to believe that her queen had a good reason for her deception. However, the woman who loved was the only one that mattered now. The woman who had lost and avenged Batman. The woman who had her trust betrayed by the one person meant never to lie to her. The other two parts had been silenced, possibly for good.
Diana's fingers moved reflexively, grabbing Hippolyta's neck once more, ready to squeeze the life out of her mother. Then the door burst inward, and six of her mother's personal guard burst in, wielding sword and spear alike. All of them were pointing at Diana; Antiope threw her spear without stopping to see who it was threatening her queen.
Diana flung an arm out; the spear hit her bracer and bounced off, hitting the floor about ten feet away with a clattering thud. The half-dozen Amazons stared, stunned, before Philipus forced herself to speak.
"P-Princess, what are you doing?"
Suddenly Diana wasn't sure. Fury still coursed, hot as lava, through her veins, but she could no longer move. She could not crush Hippolyta's neck the way half of her still wanted to – the other half was now insisting that this was Mama; she couldn't kill her. That voice was also cold, though. It was telling her that she shouldn't. Not that she did not have the heart to.
She dropped the queen and let her crumple to the floor. Antiope pulled her monarch to her feet, still staring at Diana, as all the others were. The princess let her arms fall to her sides, clenching her fists because it was the safest thing to do.
"Why?"
Breathing hard, Hippolyta straightened. "Because the gods chose him for death–"
"Lady Artemis told me she and Lady Selene would have resurrected him if I'd performed the ritual!" Diana yelled. "How dare you take that decision for me, especially," she spat, pointing accusingly in the direction of the horrified Antiope, "after you yourself performed it to restore your favorite sister to life! Do you have any idea the hell you have condemned me, his family, the world to without him? You stole him from me as surely as the Joker did!" The Joker's fate went unspoken, but was a faint presence in the back of Diana's mind, as well as the frigid voice that still kept saying that she shouldn't see to it that the queen shared the madman's fate.
"My concern was all for you!" Hippolyta replied, her voice passionate and pleading. "Diana, he was only a mortal man! To bring him back only for you to lose him again – you would never have returned to us!"
"You had no right to–"
"I am your queen, daughter," Hippolyta cut her off firmly, her eyes blazing in the dim light of the torches. "I had every right! You are still an Amazon, Diana! You are still subject to my rule!"
Something in Diana crystallised. "In that case…" she said distantly, "I…no longer wish to be an Amazon, Your Majesty." The contempt in her tone caused Philipus and Antiope to gasp sharply.
The queen, however, did not seem to hear it, or comprehend her words. "What?" Hippolyta asked stupidly.
"If being an Amazon, if being welcomed on this island, if being close to my sisters means I must spend one more second of my life following the path you pushed me to without my consent…then I am an Amazon no longer."
With seven Amazons staring at her, Diana crossed to the gaping hole in the wall. She took to the air, but stopped in the gap. She spoke to the air, not giving Hippolyta the courtesy of meeting her gaze. Her words were soft, but they echoed as harshly as lashes upon unprotected skin. "You should hold the contests, Mother. Find yourself a new champion. I'll have someone from the Justice League drop off the uniform once I've had a chance to cleanse it of the blood of the man I loved. Perhaps it will give you a chance to do the same with your hands."
Diana flew away from the battered palace, singularly intent on returning to her jet. The Queen of the Amazons and her seven sisters stood in the rubble that had once been the queen's chambers, utterly shell-shocked by the scene they had all just played a part in.
None of them saw the childlike goddess standing in the shadows, weeping silent tears. Hippolyta, you fool…
None of them felt the presence of another deity, this one smirking in delight. His opening had come, and soon he would make his move.
Diana was true to her word. She submerged the uniform in bleach overnight. The cloth was magically protected, so no harm came to the colors or other ornaments. Once the last vestiges of blood – and Bruce – had been washed down into the drains, she covered the uniform with its plastic sheeting once again and ordered a transport up to the Watchtower.
Shayera seemed surprised when Diana knocked on her door, but welcomed her in with a smile anyway. "Come in, come in."
"I'm sorry to bother you, Shayera, but I need a favour. I need you to take this to Themyscira for me. Return it to the Temple of Hera."
Shayera took the uniform with a frown. "Can't you? I mean, I know you've got Gotham to worry about and everything, but have you even seen your mother once since the funeral?"
"Yes," Diana replied flatly. "I returned there three days ago, after I discovered from Lady Artemis that my mother prevented me from taking the only chance I will ever have to bring Bruce back. That's why I need you to take the uniform back. It's for an Amazon to wear."
"And what, that's… That's no longer you?" the Thanagarian asked, her green eyes wide.
"That's no longer me," Diana affirmed.
Shayera put the uniform down and took Diana's hands. "Diana, what are you doing? You can't keep tying so much of yourself to Gotham – to Bruce!"
"Bruce is dead, Shayera–"
"Yes, he is," she agreed, interrupting. "And Gotham needed someone. You stepped in to fill that void, but that doesn't mean remove your own identity in the process!"
"I'm not–"
"Diana, you just stated that you're no longer an Amazon! Are you even aware of how massive a statement that is?" Shayera demanded incredulously. "When you first came here, all you were was an Amazon! All you knew was the code and being better than men and–"
"There you go then. I'm growing, that's all."
"This isn't growth, Diana, it's regression! You're polarising yourself, splitting the world into black and white and it isn't!"
"Not yet it's not!" Diana snarled, her fists clenching.
Shayera stared at her, seemed to almost read Diana's mind, then grabbed the princess's upper arm and dragged her out of the room and down to the monitor room. J'onn was the only one in there, and neither woman bothered with greetings. Shayera shoved Diana into the spare seat in the room and brought up old stock footage from the archives of the old League, when it had just been the Seven. It wasn't hard to recognise. The Justice Lords.
Shayera paused it at a very strategic point. The video had been taken from Batman's cowl. Justice Lord Diana was about to drop a lump of concrete on him, crushing his ribs and pulping several vital organs. Her eyes were harsh, like diamonds, and clearly had no problem with attempting to kill the counterpart of her comrade.
Shayera turned away from the frozen picture on the screen and looked at Diana, her arms folded. "Do you want to be that woman?"
"Shayera, this is totally irrelevant–"
"Answer the question, Diana."
"Of course not, but that's not going to happen."
"It is if you keep heading down this way," Shayera assured her. "How long before you lose everything that makes you you, Diana?"
"I know myself," the princess said, rapidly losing patience. "I am not going to force the world into my view! But make no mistake – my mother betrayed me, and I do not take betrayal lightly. I'd have thought you'd remember that."
Before Shayera could pick her jaw off the floor or conceal the expression of pain that crossed her face, Diana stood and flew down to the transporter pads. "Transport me to–"
That was unfair, Diana.
She looked up to where J'onn was looking down at her. It's true. Mother– J'onn, she– I could have gotten Bruce back, he could be here again–
I know what Queen Hippolyta took from you, he told her, but Shayera is not your mother. She has done nothing to earn your anger.
Diana sighed. I know. I'll go apologise.
Thank you.
Shayera opened the door trying to conceal the tears swimming in her emerald eyes. Diana felt immediately guilty, and pulled her sister-in-arms – her only sister now – into a hug. "I'm sorry, Shayera. I didn't mean to hurt you, I simply spoke out of anger."
"Yeah," the Thanagarian replied, her voice rough and shaky, "I got that."
Diana let her go. "But my mother…I cannot forgive her, Shayera. And I need you to understand that."
The other woman nodded. "I do understand that. If it had been John…" Apparently recognising the futility of finishing that sentence, Shayera shut her mouth and looked away. "There was something I wanted to ask you, actually."
"What?"
"John and I, we decided not to put the wedding off anymore. It's been almost four months, and we…" She cleared her throat. "Anyway, I just wanted to ask you if you'd still be my maid of honour. If you don't want to then I'll understand–"
"Shayera, I do still want to, but I can't leave Gotham."
"It's for one day, Diana, please, one day more than a month from now. You can teleport back at any time, be there in ten seconds if necessary. I'm sure Robin, Batgirl could cover for you–" She stopped, looking pleadingly up at her friend. "Please."
She sighed. "Fine. Of course, Shayera, I'll be your Maid of Honour. I'm sure Gotham will be fine without me for one day."
Gotham was fine without her for one day.
But that was only because the beatings intended for it were being taken out on Tim. With Diana (called from the wedding early after all) hauling Killer Croc away to Arkham, Nightwing and Batgirl had finally been able to get Tim to the Watchtower.
Almost none of the buildings in the city were damaged – but one of Tim's legs was broken, as were the ribs that had been previously cracked. There were deep and multiple lacerations across his torso, both front and back, and he'd lost at least two pints of his blood. The only other person she'd seen look that utterly white was… was Bruce.
Tim wasn't dead, but this was the second time in less than two months he'd been seriously injured. From this point on, it was only a matter of time, as she pointed out to Dick and Barbara.
Batgirl bit her lip, but didn't disagree. Dick did more than not disagree. He nodded. "It's Alfred's decision too."
"Alfred will agree with us," Barbara pointed out. "He couldn't stand losing Tim."
"Where?" Dick asked. "He'll come back. We could send him to Timbuktu and without someone keeping him there, he'll always find his way back to Gotham. By swimming if he has to."
"So we need someplace remote," Barbara started slowly, "and we need somewhere supervised."
They all looked up as Superman entered the commissary. "He's regaining consciousness, guys."
All three of them came to the same conclusion at once.
It was not a conclusion that Tim was happy with. Nor was he happy with their explanation.
"It's not safe anymore, Tim," Barbara tried to reason with him.
"So you're sending me to the town that rears super-powered Boy Scouts?!" Tim retorted.
"Yes," Diana said flatly. "You're going to Smallville where Superman and his family can keep an eye on you, where you'll be safe." Her voice softened. "I know you hate it, Tim, but if you stay in Gotham you'll never be able to be Tim Drake again."
"Who cares?" he spat. "It's not stopping you or Dick! I have the right to decide for myself."
Dick shook his head. "No, you don't. Sorry, Tim. But Alfred and I are your legal guardians 'til you're eighteen. You don't have a say in this."
"This is total bullshit!" Tim shouted.
There was nothing else they could say that would persuade him, and no protest of Tim's could sway them.
The next week, the parting was bitter, and Tim didn't look back or say goodbye as he got in the car. Alfred would be going with him to Kansas to make sure he settled before coming back to Gotham. "We… We're doing the right thing," Dick said. His voice sounded unsure, and Diana could only offer reassurance.
"We are," she said. "It's safer for him."
He nodded. "I know. But... it just feels..."
He didn't continue, but he didn't have to. She knew what he meant. It feels like the family has fallen apart. She didn't try to reassure him this time. He was right. They were breaking up. Just like Diana had broken from the League, from the Amazons, so too was the Bat family.
Diana was the first to turn back to the very empty yet full manor. The orphanage had opened last week, and it had never been noisier. There were children everywhere – they had the biggest family in Gotham now. It was all a lie, though. No matter how many of them there were, no matter how much money had been spent on the orphanage, or would be spent on toys, and education – it was all a lie. A façade.
No matter how much they'd made the manor a sanctuary...it was still a mausoleum, Diana thought.
How could you leave us, Bruce? We still needed you.
She's alone in the world. Her friends are gone. Almost everyone she ever cared about lie dead around her. She's not done, though, not yet. She is Champion of the Amazon people. Her armour is testament to that – it is battered, torn, bloodstained, as is the rest of her. Despite the bruises and cuts on the skin, she has never looked more beautiful.
A smoke-laden breeze catches tattered hair, lifts it toward the sky. Her eyes blaze in defiance as she faces down her foe. The shots begin. Diana raises her bracers, deflects as many as she can. It's not enough. Three will get through before Flash, her only living ally, gets there.
Three. That's enough.
One impacts her shoulder, opening up a red laceration, forcing her to take a step back.
Two enters just below her ribcage, punching a bleeding wound into her skin, and forcing her back once more.
Three pierces her skin and goes directly into her heart.
There is no scream.
A/N: Review please!