Donna curled into the linen blankets, dyed a soft lilac and warm from the sunshine that crept in through the open balcony. Curling her head into the fabric, she inhaled deeply, fingers forming a fist of the familiar blanket. Diana's scent was fading more and more, and she wasn't sure if she could smell it at all anymore. Whenever she swore she caught it, she wasn't sure if it was a trick of her mind or not and instead she found herself inhaling so many deep breaths she ended up lightheaded. Tears sprung to the young girl's eyes, dripping onto the bed beneath her and darkening the light purple.

"Oh, my little one." The broken voice of Hippolyta startled her younger daughter, who immediately wiped the tears from her face and sat up, putting on her best brave face. Her lower lip gave her emotions away, however, trembling until a strangled sob throttled itself from deep within her chest. "Momma." Before she could even reach for the warm embrace of her mother, arms embraced her, the queen pulling her against her chest and rocking her gently. "Let it out, my little warrior. This grief is suffocating, I know." Her own tears trailed over her high cheekbones, collecting in the raven tresses of Donna's hair.

Slowly, they both leaned into Diana's bed, but even with the elder princesses absence it had not gone unused. Even in the times before Diana's abduction, Donna had often tiptoed from her own chambers, adjacent from her older sisters, and crawled into her arms. Hippoltya would find them in the early hours of the morning, nuzzled together in slumber or other times awake, whispering secrets and sharing soft giggles. Now, Donna never slept in her own room, instead always immediately going to her sisters. Their mother often joined her, holding the young girl to her chest until she would eventually fall into either a deep exhaustion induced sleep or one nightmare plagued.

"Amazon's are not supposed to cry." Donna hiccuped, trying to force the tears to stop falling from her eyes. Hippolyta cupped her daughter's cheek, kissing her forehead and looking into her eyes, identical to not only her own, but her sisters, too. "Amazon's do what they must, which includes crying. We will get her back, I swear." With those last final words, the queen knew what she had to do.

...

Exhaustion clung beneath Bruce Wayne's eyes, heavy and suffocating but not unusual. The screen before him blared brightly, different routes of too many galaxies spread out, a confusing map few could decipher. Night had given way to morning, though he only knew this on account of the old fashioned clock stationed above his billion dollar computer set up. There was an ache in his muscles from sitting so long, glowering at the screen and running his well calloused fingertips over his facial hair that was far past the stubble phase.

But, there it was, a ping, staring back at him in a galaxy million of light years away, sanctioned so far away from earth the scientist of earth had little to no knowledge of it. Rather, the galaxy he had located had probably been grouped into a section of a few million others. However, when you ran a group of people that weren't, well, all even people, you acquired certain advantages.

Clark Kent's tracking device had pinged, for merely a second, but a second was long enough. For months he had fiddled with the connection, receiving nothing but static and failed attempts that left him cursing and bruising his knuckles against his desk. He brought his fingers against his keyboard once more, thumb pressing roughly into a key until the deep voice of J'onn J'onzz responded.

"Bruce?"

"Look at the coordinates I just sent you and tell me what you know about this galaxy in particular."

A pause of silence, the martian gave a slight and gruff noise in response, followed by a deep sigh. "What's that word Barry is always using? Starts with an f, Clark was always getting after him for it."

Bruce snorted, the slightest bit of a smirk nearly crossing his features, Clark, the god damned boyscout, "Fuck?"

"Fuck."

So they had the martian using human profanity now, Bruce couldn't imagine that was anything short of incredibly bad.

...

Diana sat beneath the spray of the shower, knees pulled to her chest, the hot water a blessing against her aching form. Seventy-nine hours, he had cut into her, carved and sliced and bled her until she was sure she would never be able to eat meat ever again. The water that swirled beneath her was crimson, darkened from the caked on dried blood clinging to nearly every inch of her.

Pink lines marred her tanned skin, sensitive flesh that had been forced to reconnect so many times after. Typically, she felt no effects from the heat or cold, but her newly formed skin was far more responsive. Eventually, she pulled herself up, turning off the water and reaching for the towel hanging from its hook. Wrapping it around her form tightly, she stumbled, looking unwillingly to the bed of her newest room. It was just as gaudy as the other, with a bed too large and a devoid cold silver metallicness to the entirety of it. No colors ever seemed to exist here, just bleak grey, nothing more and nothing less.

Tapping the sleek top of a chest of drawers, the top drawer opened, extending out and presenting different pieces of underwear. Diana grimaced at this, noting the see through fabrics and provocative items. It seemed ages that she dug through, rooting through each drawer until coming to simple items she felt she could hide within; a long sleeved grey shirt, with shapewear beneath that rested tightly against her chest, hiding the softness there and lastly ink toned pants that unfortunately clung tightly to her long legs. Relentlessly, she tugged at the shirt, until the stretched fabric could be tugged no further.

A soreness still lingered at her throat and her fingertips rested there, knowing bruised skin still lingered. Only Darkseid had ever managed to bruise her like that, leaving marks that took days at a time to completely disappear.

There was a knock from her door, and she turned, having become unfamiliar with the respect of privacy since her arrival to the decrepit world of Darkseid. "..yes?" Her voice felt foreign, weak and rough, though she was starting to grimace less and less when she heard how frail she had become.

Doors sliding open, Kal-El stood before her once more, a pained look on his features and sweat dripping from his forehead. He looked disheveled, as if he was freshly out of bed from a sleep riddled with night terrors. Stubble lined his strong jaw, and she stepped back, the beating of her heart fast. She had not expected to see him so soon, hell, she had hardly expected to ever see him again.

Slowly, he inched forward, the fluorescent lighting of her chambers bright and beaming against his shirtless form. Grey pants covered his lower half, feet bare against the floor, only supporting her theory further that he had just awoken.

"Kal?" She whispers it, stepping forward, wishing desperately to close the space between them. In all her painted months in being a captive, he had provided her with an evening of fear free comfort. Now, she wished to do the same, to cradle his broad form and hold him close until the pain on his face washed away into nothingness.

"I remember, I remember everything." The words are strained as they escape him, his crystal blue eyes haunted and form trembling. He, in all his strength, was nearly ready to crumble beneath her. Diana knew what would happen if they were caught, though, she no longer cared. There was little more that could be inflicted upon her, and even with what was left, she was more than sure she could handle it.

Coming closer, she embraced him, pulling him towards the large bed and tucking his head beneath her chin. He trembled still against her, fingertips digging into the flesh of her arms as he held on like she was his life force. Then, his eyes snapped to the pink lines that marred her perfect flesh, visible only by the fabric that slipped away from her wrists. He stood, a burning anger in his eyes. "What did he do to you?" He grasps her arm, firmly but yet gently, his frown deepening and his other hand pulling her sleeve up further. "By Rao." Kal-El felt his stomach flip, nausea burning in the back of his throat that was quickly replaced by his ever growing anger.

"Kal." Her voice was soft, melodious, and absolutely melted him while flooring his thought process at the same time.

"They...reprogrammed you," She sneered at the words, face crinkled for just a moment, "I don't know for how long, but I've watched the process before. Yet, here you are, and I'm not sure I understand how." Diana rests a hand against his chest, frowning slightly, eyes darting to her door.

He catches this, and ensures he's listening, waiting for the moment someone threatens to interrupt their exchange. "I don't know. After I woke up in the healing chamber, I was exhausted. I went to my room, slept, and then it all came...flooding forward at once. My brain felt like it was melting within my skull. I woke up sweating, I don't...I don't sweat, not often." As he swallowed, Diana watched his Adam's apple bob slightly.

"Do you remember Earth, then? The sky's, the seas, all the warmth." Her voice cracks on the last bit, and she longs for that warmth more than she's longed for anything her entire life. Warmth exists within so many things; her mother and sisters embrace, the color of paint upon a new canvas, the rising sun, him.

"I remember all of it, every last bit." Kal-El pauses then, chewing upon his lower lip in a faraway thought, "We have to get out of here, I have to get you out of here. Now."

Diana's blue eyes scan around the entirety of her room, "I know he's listening, somehow."

"I disabled the entire system, and the back up system. Dessad is currently taking the blame." He offers a boyish half smile at this, and it's enough to nearly make her smile in response, though not quite.

"I want out of here desperately, but this isn't something we can just...jump into. Brute force can't save us right now. He's prepared for that, but if he thinks everything is going as he has planned, we'll gain the upper hand."

"I can't watch him hurt you again, Diana. I can't let him do what...what he has planned." Burning disgust rises through him and he watches her look away, closing her eyes, hand dropping from his chest and curling into her lap.

"I'll play his game, and so will you. There is no other way for us to leave this place. I long for revenge so desperately, Kal-El, to make him pay for the things he's done to me…" Her voice trails off, eyes opening and making contact with his own. Slowly, she stands, the warmth of her breath brushing his own lips. Thick lashes brush her cheekbones when she takes in a deep breath of air, hand coming to rest against his cheek and lips moving closer to his own. "I can't imagine how terribly you wish for your own revenge."

She was pushing away her own horrors, pretending they were insignificant in order to comfort him from his own demons. So much anger pulses through him, in all the atrocities he faced on earth, nothing compared to the acts of the monster he had been playing soldier to for over a year.

"I can't do this without you, Kal. Please. I want to see those I love once more, I want to be more than a womb to a monster."

He knows he can't deny her, and so he swallows his anger, nodding slightly and letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding. She's so close now, he can see the droplets of water still clinging to her hair. Everything on Apokalypsis is devoid and sterile, in both scent and sight, but she smells of lilacs and lavender, but also of something tangier, like freshly grown apples and salty sea air.

Lips on lips meet, and Kal-El knows right then and there that he's going to break his greatest rule for her; he would kill Darkseid, no matter what it took.