"How is she?" A dark voice asked from the shadows.

"Get out." The Lantern's tired eyes never left the dormant woman before him. Her vibrant red hair stood out like blood against the generic white sheets and intertwined tubes that twisted around her arms and chest. Usually when she slept, her limbs splayed out in every direction, and she tossed mercilessly unless he held her close. Today, she laid perfectly flat, arms crossed over her body with her fingertips just barely caressing her raised stomach while the soft hum and beeps of various machines filled the air around her.

It had been four days since Shayera was transferred to an underground facility Bruce had tucked away in some unknown corner of the globe. It was the only secure place the League could use on such short notice. The heroine hadn't moved the entire time, though her and John's son actively kicked out at his father against his mother's skin. It was unnatural to see her so motionless. She was always so wild, free, exuberant and even when she slept she mumbled in Thanagarian and moved about restlessly. Her state created a deep pit of anxiety in the Lantern's stomach.

"If you don't want to answer, I can always find J'onn." Batman stepped out of the dark corner into the bright, artificial light.

John lifted his gaze and starred accusingly at his friend, "Why did you even bother coming here? You should know you aren't welcome."

Bruce crossed him arms and shrugged, "I wanted to see her with my own eyes. There's only so much you can find out from others."

The grimace on John's face revealed just a hint of his shiny teeth. There was something uncharacteristically animal about him, like Shayera's illness had unleashed a side of him hardly known to the others, "And are you satisfied?"

Bruce narrowed his eyes and studied the Lantern. Other than for basic hygiene, John hadn't left Shayera's side in days, and it showed. His bright green eyes looked chemically bright against the dark bruises under his eyes and the pale tint of his skin. If one looked closely, it was easy to read the signs of exhaustion and defeat in the slump of his shoulders and downward curve of brow. In a matter of days, it looked like John had aged years - whether it was his wrinkled clothing or the lines etched out on his face. No, Bruce was far from satisfied. However, he hadn't thought that John would be quite so angry at him, "You act like this is my fault."

"Isn't it?" John stood suddenly, but his hand stayed firmly locked around Shayera's wrist. Her body acted as an anchor to stop the volatile hero from launching himself across the room, "You knew there was something going on, that the League was a possible target! How dare you put her in harm's way!"

"It was Shayera's choice." Bruce's voice sounded dangerously low.

John shook his head furiously, "If you had wanted to stop it, you could have. She didn't need to be on duty, you could have trusted anyone else with that responsibility!"

Instead of allowing himself to get angry, Bruce took a breath and asked simply, "Is this about my guilt or your own?"

John froze in horror, and lowered himself slowly back down into the seat. The weak metal whined against his action, but John ignored it has he did the sickly smell of the room and the cold readings of the monitors. His long fingers drew small circles over her petite hands as he answered in a more restrained tone, "She shouldn't have been there."

Bruce noted the Lantern's avoidance, but responded, "Her intention wasn't to get hurt. She knew the risks, but also knew that she needed to make sure the world was safe before Rex was in it."

"I know." John's voice broke at the end.

Bruce watched his friend for a moment, lost for a response. The Lantern whispered quietly to the sleeping woman, just low enough that Bruce couldn't hear even if he tried. Something reassuring probably. It was strange to watch the way John shifted to accommodate Shayera's illness. Most of the time, there was no need for words between the two of them. They always shared quick glances - the raise of brows or the quirk of a smile - never words. In a way, they always gravitated around one another, even from the moment they met. Somehow, they had always communicated so quietly even when arguing... Bruce noticed long before the others but even he failed to translate each motion or expression.

Now, it was just John trying to bring her back. At first, no one had worried about the Lantern. He waited by Shayera's bedside confident that her eyes would open at any moment and she would return to her infuriating, passionate self. Maybe she would yell at him, throw something, anything would be better than nothing. Then, as hours had turned to days and J'onn could find no reason for her coma, the hope had left his eyes and despair had seeped its way into his mind. He needed her to wake up - urgently, desperately. He would say anything, do anything. Everyone knew, however, what she needed was far less about words and far more about medical practices unknown to his particular planet.

The other League members were scared of what would happen if Shayera slipped away now.

"I just wish…." John's quiet voice reached out to him.

"Wishing is pointless. We are where we are." Bruce cut him off.

"Don't you think I know that!" John glared at him, but moved his hand to gently brush the hair from Shayera's face.

Bruce walked across the room briskly and said with little compassion, "I don't have time for you to beat around the bush here. I need you to say what you need to say to me."

John scoffed, "So I can fit into your neat plans?"

"No." The dark knight said ominously, "So that you can go out there and destroy the people who did this to her."

John sighed and looked down at his love once more, "I don't care about them. I just want her back."

"So what's your plan? Just sit here until she wakes up?" Bruce mocked.

"That about sums it up."

"Why?"

"She deserves to have someone here when she wakes up." John's voice was a whisper.

Bruce's tone softened, "She won't be alone."

"It's not just about that." John said without looking up. Though he wanted to argue, Bruce remained silent and waited as John composed himself. Batman could see the words coming together in the way John's eyes roamed over Shayera's face sadly, as if remember something, "It's just…after the invasion, I was mad that she didn't choose me, and it wasn't only after the Thanagarians left. It was all the little moments leading up to it when she said I was important to her but she continuously placed her duty above me.

"Then, she left. But when she came back, she waited for me. She gave me space and patience, even when I kept pushing her away and hurting her. She gave me all these chances, and I was mad that she couldn't accept the one I gave her. So now it's my turn to wait. However long it takes for her to wake up, however long it takes her to forgive me, whatever she needs, I will wait for her. But if I leave then I am giving up on her."

Bruce's anger rose from a small hunch in his shoulders to a bright heat against his face. Though he kept his features neutral, emotion leaked into his voice, "How noble of you."

"Don't mock me!" John's eyes glowed threateningly.

Bruce took the last few steps forward so that he was barely touching the otherwise of the bed. His teeth ground together, but he managed to spit out, "Listen, if I thought that was what Shayera would really want, I would tell you to do it. We both know that she would want you to burn those bastards to the ground so they can never hurt her or Rex ever again. Stop making this about yourself and start making it about her."

Bruce expected rage, frustration, something. But instead, John just shook his head in quiet acceptance of Bruce's point and responded, "Maybe you should start taking your own advice."

"Maybe I will." He lied, "But today's not about me."

John's eyes turned back to Shayera. The steady pulses of the machines were the lone sound in the room, except for the barely perceptible breathes she took in sleep. They both watched her for several minutes before the Lantern spoke, "J'onn doesn't know when she'll wake up. He says her brainwaves look normal, her tests come back fine, and he's given her everything he can. For some reason, her body just doesn't want to wake up."

"You're scared." Batman observed.

John looked up at him once more, "She wasn't there in the future. What if I messed that up too?"

Bruce sighed, "I wished I could give you a reassuring answer."

"You think this is the right thing? Me going?"

"What? You're trusting me now?"

John shook his head, "Lord knows that I'm not thinking straight."

Batman shrugged, but didn't contradict his friend. Rather, he told him, "She would tell you to go. It wouldn't matter to her that you didn't stay at her bedside, as long as you still put her first. You're real hurtles are going to come once she wakes up."

John's gaze darkened, "I welcome the challenge."

"Idiot." Bruce turned to walk away, "You leave in ten minutes. Don't be late."