Author's note: Hey folks, I'm still alive. Sorry for another break between postings, but... *gestures at everything* The past couple of months were not particularly inspiring, or inspirational, or anything of that sort. I am, however, desperate, to finish this story, if only because I already have two more multi-chapters I can't wait to share :P
I suppose we all had a tough couple of months and I hope that you're all taking care of yourselves and doing your best to stay safe, from whatever "plague of the month" you're dealing with right now.
So, here's some entertainment for you :)
Trouble came calling in the late afternoon, and like many things expected and predictable, it still caught them completely off-guard.
Diana was in the kitchen with Steve, sharing a sandwich that he had made for himself while she had been speaking with Selina Kyle. One that he had immediately cut in half to share when she had finally stepped inside. It was only then that she realized, belatedly, that caught up in the wild craziness of the day, they had skipped both breakfast and lunch, and they all needed sustenance.
Something had shifted between them last night. Something that Diana couldn't quite put her finger on yet. It felt like a flutter in her chest, like something unfurling inside of her, the feeling both new and somehow familiar, all at once. It was as if their argument had stripped them off the remnants of their armour until there was nothing left for them to hide behind.
After their fight and everything that had followed, after he had promised her over and over again to never, ever leave her, Steve had been the first to drift off to sleep, sated and spent and with a smile on his face that had made her breath catch. Diana had stayed awake for a while afterwards, watching his chest rise and fall slowly under the sheet, her fingers moving absently over the jut of his collarbones, the line of his jaw, his hair, his face.
And she had thought – I have never loved this man more.
They ate in silence until there were only crumbs left on their shared plate, and Diana thought absently of how he used to perceive breakfasts as a testament to normalcy. How sometimes even the smallest things could have peace to them.
A memory sprung up in her mind, from a long time ago. One of Charlie calling Steve a glutton, claiming that the latter could eat a horse when he was hungry – quite literally so. She remembered laughing then at the way Steve's face had grown hot, at him threatening to spill some story the mere mention of which had made the face of his friend grow pale, and had left Sameer breathless with laughter.
She wished she had known then to hold on to those moments more tightly. To bottle them up better so she could keep them in her heart forever.
Wished she had learned not to doubt the endless array of tales that had rained on her during those early days in man's world. Steve did, in fact, have an exceptional appetite.
"So, what do you think?" he asked evenly, as he carried their plate and cups to the sink, not needing to mention Selina Kyle's name for Diana to know exactly what he was talking about. It was the casualness of his voice that told her that he had been dying to bring this up for ages.
Diana's eyes darted toward the hallway and in the general direction of the Batcave on their own accord. Even though their morning guest was already gone, her presence lingered like the proverbial elephant in the room that everyone was adamant to ignore, no matter how impossible it was.
"Bruce certainly has a peculiar taste in friends," she remarked diplomatically.
"Bruce sure has a type," Steve noted, casting a sideways look her way.
Diana hummed, arching an eyebrow at him. "Thieving and evasive?"
"I was thinking more along the lines of stubborn and unbothered at giving Bruce Wayne, of all people, a piece of their mind," he countered, turning to her.
Normally, Diana wouldn't see any similarities, but when he put it like that...
Selina Kyle definitely knew how to make a lasting impression. And if Diana had to assume, she was aware of it and never shied away from using it to her advantage.
The woman was hard to read, nearly impossibly so, seemingly adamant about remaining as closed off as a person could ever be. Even more curious was the fact that Bruce didn't fight it. He did not seem thrilled about it, though.
"Does this make her your type, too?" Diana inquired, trying not to smile.
Steve stepped toward her, and like always, his proximity and the easy curve of his lips left her with a tug in the pit of her stomach. He reached over to tuck a strand of hair that had escaped the loose bun at the nape of her neck behind her ear before his palm settled on her hip.
"Nah, with me it's just you."
"Flatterer," she murmured, her thumb brushing over his bottom lip.
Steve grinned. "Hey, you asked," he pointed out. A sigh tumbled out of his chest, his small smile dimming. "So, what now? We haven't exactly gotten anywhere with her."
Diana's fingers ran along the collar of his shirt, her brows creasing in concentration. "Well, I suppose we could—"
She was cut off by the commotion that erupted downstairs, the voices seemingly exploding all at once and speaking over one another. She stepped away from Steve, hating the feeling of being yanked once more into the present, where sunny mornings had no place to be, while his hands slid off her body, albeit reluctantly.
"Something's wrong," she muttered as she walked briskly out of the kitchen. Steve followed her into the hallway and down the stairs leading to the Batcave without a word.
"What happened?" she demanded when they reached the lower level where the red alarm sign was blinking on the central monitor over her shoulder, the security feed playing behind it. She couldn't immediately tell if it was live or merely a replay of it.
"It's the S.T.A.R. Labs," Victor responded stiffly.
He had at least half a dozen holograms hanging in front of his face, morphing into one another and changing shapes, as he scanned the facility through remote access. Something was happening so fast it would have left anyone else with a spell of dizziness.
Bruce was staring at the screens before him with a frown, his face hard.
Diana didn't like it. Didn't like the tense line of his shoulders and the stiffness of his back, either. Didn't like how much more personal all of this was to them than she was willing to admit. Lex Luthor's involvement had changed everything, and she wondered for the first time if he came for the gauntlet because of the power it carried within, or if he merely wanted to taunt her like he did Bruce, and stealing from her something that could be used as a weapon against them all was merely a convenient bonus.
A payback for her stealing from him.
"You think it's Luthor?" she asked, turning to Bruce.
"I don't think it's random," he responded.
"Pretty ballsy of him to do anything in the middle of the day," Barry commented, his eyes darting between the monitors and the images summoned by Victor.
"It's Saturday," Victor said as, with the slight flick of his fingers, the holograms disappeared. "Even with someone working outside of their usual hours, it's a safe bet." He looked at Diana. "There are five people in the building, but the card reader is tampered with, I can't tell who they are."
Bruce glanced at her, too, his expression grim. "Better check it out. Could be nothing."
"Or it could be a trap," Steve pointed out.
Bruce's gaze shifted to him, and then back to Diana. "I'll tell Clark to meet us there."
She nodded.
"Victor," she turned to Cyborg, "you should come with us." Her eyes moved to the speedster standing next to Steve. "Barry, stay here, you'll be backup if it's not nothing."
"I don't think—" Victor started, gesturing at himself. Even wearing loose jeans and a sweatshirt, he still couldn't hide the metal plates adorning his face, his polished steel hands reflecting the glow of the monitors. "Barry should go instead."
"Sure thing," Barry agreed eagerly, his enthusiasm in the face of danger making Diana's lips tug upwards at the corners. "Just… back up for a moment to that part where this might be a trap—"
"No." Bruce shook his head. "Victor knows the facility inside out. If Lex is playing his games, we might need that." He jerked his chin toward the Batmobile waiting patiently for them to suit up before sizing Victor up with a measured look. "No one's gonna see you."
Victor didn't argue with that.
Once Bruce disappeared to get changed, Diana turned to Steve who was watching the exchange with an expression she couldn't quite read.
His eyes met hers.
"Do you need me?" he asked, his gaze flicking toward the screen and then locking with hers once more.
Always , she thought. I always need you .
But this was not the nature of his question, and hers was not the answer he needed to hear. Panic closed around her throat like a cold hand, squeezing all the air out of her lungs. They were a team now. They had always been a team, and he didn't need her patronizing him. He didn't need her to keep him in a glass box. He was a soldier, and she feared that if she made her attempts to protect him known, he would resent her for not trusting him, for thinking that he was lesser than her in ways that mattered. Diana would never disrespect him like that.
But it was one thing to know that she had to do the right thing by him, and another to actually do it.
"You know, if you just pull the hood real low…" Barry's voice trailed off behind her as she tuned him out.
She moved closer to Steve, searching his face that was open and earnest, and she knew in that instant that he would accept anything she would tell him without hesitation, without questioning her decisions or doubting her motives. Like he'd always done. Like he would do for as long as they'd be in one another's lives, perhaps.
"No," she shook her head. "Not this time." Steve nodded. A soldier who was used to following commands. There was no disappointment in him, only concern – for her and for what she was about to walk into. Diana wrapped her arms around herself, her fingers curling tight over her elbows. She glanced over her shoulder at where Barry and Victor were arguing about something in hushed voices. "What we need is for you to tap into the CCTV feed," she said, looking at Steve once more, and he nodded again. "If it is Lex, and if he leaves before we get there, we'll need to know which direction to follow."
"Yes, ma'am," he said, a grin pulling at the corners of his mouth.
Diana pressed her lips together to hold back a traitorous smile, so out of place at that moment.
Steve slid his hands into the pockets of his jeans.
"You think it's serious?"
She considered his question for a moment. "I think Bruce might be right. It might be nothing, but it's too big a coincidence."
He shook his head. "No, what do you think?"
Diana cast a quick look at the still blinking alarm and bit her lip. "I think there's only one way to find out," she muttered, finding his eyes with hers.
"You might want to suit up for that," Steve noted, giving her a pointed once-over, one eyebrow lifted.
There was worry pooling behind his eyes that she knew was beyond his control. She might be able to tear buildings apart with her bare hands as she pleased and he might trust her to keep safe in the face of anything, but there were things that one simply couldn't help feeling about someone they cared about.
Even so, Hera help her, when he was looking at her this way, she knew that she would rather do the opposite of suiting up.
The unease stirring in her chest quelled Diana's need to close the distance between them. If this was Lex, he was too bold for her comfort, too confident, and maybe too arrogant even, and she hoped – she prayed to all the gods she could think of – that they had time to gain their momentum.
She leaned forward and brushed a light kiss to his lips, Barry and Victor be damned. "I'll be back soon," she promised, pulling back to find his face slightly flushed.
Steve cleared his throat.
"Take care," he said without reaching for her even though she saw that he wanted to.
"I will."
"You have got to stop being so... cute," Barry's voice cut into their conversation. Diana turned to him and he grimaced in disgust, gesturing at the two of them. "So… lovey-dovey."
Steve chuckled. "Who says lovey-dovey anymore?"
"Hey, I'm trying to use the old people language," the speedster protested, offended.
"You might want to stop trying," Victor suggested, patting Barry on the shoulder with enough force to nearly send the latter flying across the room. He met Diana's eyes. "You coming?"
She nodded, choosing to not point out to Barry that he could have asked Iris out months ago, and that suffering from unrequited love — that might not be unrequited once he did something about it — was his own doing. But maybe later, when they were not on a deadline.
Her fingers brushed against Steve's as her last goodbye before she followed Victor up the stairs and out of the Batcave.
"Hey, you wanna get pizza or something?" Diana heard Barry ask Steve behind her back, but by the time Steve answered she was too far away to hear his response.
xoox
Steve felt Diana's absence in the pinpricking of his skin and the tug of longing somewhere deep in his chest.
He hated waiting.
Half an hour had passed. And then an hour. And then two. He kept the communication channel open but they didn't ask for help and the news was blissfully devoid of any reports on an ongoing massacre anywhere in Gotham city. It should have been a relief, but instead, Steve couldn't help but feel that he was about to climb out of his skin from worry and impatience.
If this was how they were going to do it from now on, with Diana being out on the front lines and him keeping the home fires burning, he wasn't sure how he was supposed to handle it. A hundred and thirty-six years was a very long time, long enough to do some proper soul searching and get his priorities straight. His ego could hardly be considered an inflated one, but he was very well aware of his virtues and not ashamed of them. Patience, however, had never been one of them.
After receiving no objections and taking it as unanimous agreement, Barry went ahead and ordered pizza. Steve's stomach was in knots though, and when offered some, he politely declined. It wasn't fear, per se. He knew that Diana could take care of herself. Knew that they all could. And maybe it was ridiculous and downright self-indulgent of him to assume that his presence might have made any difference, all things considered. Between a goddess, an alien and a cyborg, with a billionaire who had twenty years' worth of experience thrown in the mix for good measure, they were probably as prepared to face any kind of battle as they could be. Rumour had it that they were a decent team.
No, it was the not knowing that made him feel like climbing the walls of the Batcave, with its pale light and concrete walls what were starting to feel like a massive coffin pressing in on him. It was the waiting for something that he couldn't predict. And it was starting to drive him insane.
At some point, he had climbed under the belly of the Knightcrawler with Bruce's toolbox, remembering that Bruce mentioned something or other about fuel leaking and that he hadn't yet got around to checking it out properly. Steve could do that. He could check the fuel hoses and everything else there was that could be checked. He could do this stuff in his sleep. Truth be told, there was comfort in concentrating on something familiar, his hands moving on a will of their own, knowing what to do before his mind did.
He found a loose valve and tightened it. Checked the hoses, too, and changed the air filter that was due for a replacement anyway.
If his mind wasn't as scattered, he'd actually take his time to admire this beast that was truly more of a work of art than a vehicle. Like nothing he had ever seen or could imagine. Steve had yet to see it in action but he had heard enough about it to be mesmerized already. Bruce Wayne was a lot of things, not all of them flattering, but no one could accuse him of not being fond of his toys. Like the jet waiting patiently on the lower level of the Batcave, so different from the planes that Steve was used to from his early days in the Air Force. It was a weird feeling but, even now, the antique models that belonged in museums still felt like home to him, even though he hadn't touched one in a very long time.
Still, tinkering with something was as good a distraction as any.
That was where Alfred found him sometime later, under the Crawler, a thoughtful cup of tea in his hand.
"Thank you," Steve smiled at him, climbing to his feet, more grateful for the thought than the tea itself.
"Trying to keep busy?" Alfred asked, as he observed the massive vehicle.
Steve reached up to run his hand through his hair but stopped and lowered his hand when he noticed the oil stains on her fingers, his eyes searching for something to wipe it off. "Yeah, well…." He grabbed a rag from the workbench. "Trying to be useful." They remained silent for a few moments as Steve scrubbed his hand clean as best he could. "Hey, Alfred, you've met Lex Luthor, right?" he asked.
Alfred pushed some tools aside to clear space for the cup he had brought.
"You could say that."
"What's he like?"
The older man straightened up and pushed his glasses further up his nose. He considered Steve's question. "He is brilliant, in his own way," he said at last, which came out as an admission that he wasn't particularly happy about. "And like many brilliant people, he turned out being quite troubled."
Insane , Steve corrected in his mind. A lunatic with a lot of money and an insatiable hunger for power. Add to that his unwillingness to share Gotham with another rich guy, and… in a weird way, it actually explained how they ended up stuck in this mess.
Steve cleared his throat. "What about Bruce's… um, friend? Is she—she's not around anymore, right?"
"Ms. Kyle had a prior engagement she needed to attend to," Alfred answered without actually saying anything.
"Right. Of course." Not that it explained much. Or anything, for that matter. "So…" he started matter-of-factly, "What's their deal?"
The butler regarded Steve pensively for a long moment. "Remember how you and Ms. Prince had a falling out and hadn't spoken to one another since before I was born, Captain?" he asked.
"That… that is an interesting way to put it," Steve muttered, tossing the rag that had made little difference to his oil-stained fingers into the toolbox.
Alfred smiled, but it was wistful. "Sometimes people do foolish things when they are confused."
"Sometimes people don't have a choice."
"There is always a choice, Captain Trevor. You might not always like the options but there is always a choice."
"What happens when all options are bad?"
"You learn to live with the repercussions of picking one, whichever one that might be," Alfred shrugged. "If I may, Captain…"
Steve nodded.
"I haven't known Ms. Prince long enough to have a good frame of reference, but she used to have an air to her like she was constantly looking over her shoulder, searching for someone. She seems like a different person now that she seems to have found it." Alfred looked around the cavernous room, and Steve wished he could see what the older man was seeing that made him look so weathered all of a sudden. "Gets one thinking, I guess."
"You think Bruce is still looking?"
"I think he might want to open his eyes first," Alfred said dryly.
Steve wondered if it counted that Batman managed to see Diana, but that wasn't a question he needed an answer to.
He was about to ask what Alfred knew about Selina, too curious not to, when he heard the metallic clang and the low hum of an engine that carried the smell of exhaust with it as the heavy gate behind him and Alfred lifted and the Batmobile rolled inside. Steve turned around to look at the black slick car, his heart skipping a beat or two. Beside him, Alfred went still, his brows pulling together ever so slightly as he watched the vehicle slow down and stop.
The doors lifted open simultaneously on both sides of it and Bruce and Victor emerged, unharmed but grim, their mouths set in identical tight lines.
"I suppose your venture wasn't very fruitful," Alfred was the first one to speak.
Bruce pulled his cowl off, his face a grimace of displeasure. "No, it was not."
Steve's gaze darted past him. "Where's—"
"She flew on her own," Victor spoke before he had a chance to finish the question. "She and Clark will probably use the door."
"At least someone does that," Alfred noted under his breath.
"What happened?" Barry appeared beside them in a flurry of wind that sent a handful of papers sitting on one of the desks to the floor. "Where've you been?"
Victor's eyes darted towards the slice of pizza in the speedster's hand. "That is your idea of being backup?"
"For your information, it's called stress eating," Barry retorted defensively. "You guys have been gone for hours. Tell them, Alfred."
"Nothing happened," Bruce shook his head, ignoring them entirely.
"So, it wasn't Lex?" Steve asked, eyes flicking between him and Victor.
"Oh, it was him alright," Victor said. "Remember the test subjects that had been kept in the lab?"
"Hard to forget," Steve muttered.
Victor's frown deepened.
"It appears that when Waller decided to cover up the investigation to save her face, or more accurately, her ass, in front of the public, she went above and beyond to keep the details of what had happened that night from the press," Bruce said. "So when Lex went to retrieve them, he had no idea that he wouldn't find anyone there." He tugged at the collar of his suit with a grimace. "Yeah, by the way, it appears that he's behind that one too, after all."
"How do you know it was even him?" Barry inquired.
"The way the building was broken into…" Victor glanced at Bruce. "Clark detected some energy lingering around the source, which he couldn't understand. Nothing else was touched, no one was hurt. But in some places, the metal was cut like it was butter and someone had used a hot knife."
They all looked up when they heard voices coming from the ground level.
Diana and Clark, Steve thought.
The hum of the elevator followed, and several seconds later Diana stepped out of it, already changed into dark jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt, her hair pulled back. Steve felt a shuddered breath stutter out of his chest at the sight of her, at the sight of the small smile that graced her lips when she spotted him. Clark was behind her, red cape fluttering around his calves as he stepped onto the grated floor and the doors started to close behind them. He muttered something to her and Diana nodded, pensive.
She paused by Steve, hand brushing briefly against his. From this close, she smelled of the cold air. If they were alone, he'd bury his face in her hair until the freshness clinging to her was all he could breathe. As it was, he merely moved another inch closer to her. If she knew that she was being a distraction in such a drastic matter, she would scold him. Or kiss him senseless.
Maybe he should think about that later.
Barry looked impatiently around the room. "Okay, so if Lex was there where'd he go?"
Steve rubbed his cheek. "The facial recognition didn't catch him," he said. "The program has been running on the CCTV feeds from ten blocks around S.T.A.R. Labs from the moment you left, but there's a lot you can get away with by keeping your head down."
"We don't think he used the street," Diana told him.
He stared at her, confused.
"It's an old building," Victor explained. "There's a tunnel underneath it that is a part of the underground infrastructure of Gotham – old metro lines, abandoned sewage tunnels and such. I don't even know what else. It goes deep and runs for miles. I'm sure not even the city officials know exactly what's down there. You can go down there and never come back, it's like a labyrinth."
"Weren't they all sealed years ago?" Bruce asked, his frown deepening by the moment.
"I don't think it'd stop someone who could rip a metal door in half," Barry pointed out, mulling over the new information.
"He's got a point," Clark nodded as he ran his hand over his hair in frustration.
"That would explain how he's stayed in the city and remained undetected," Steve said.
Truth be told, it was smart. Beyond smart.
Steve's mind drifted inadvertently back to the war, to how the tunnels beneath Paris and London and Berlin had been used by spies to move freely across those cities. How they provided shelter from the bombing and how the nooks were perfect for hiding during frequent raids. How one could get lost there, too, and never be seen again. How some people did go down there, never to come back.
He figured that getting the blueprints of the underground communications network built some time in the last century wouldn't be that big a deal. One just needed to have a clear idea of what they were looking for and access to the archives. And having access to them – having access to even a part of them – would allow Lex to move around the city without anyone suspecting anything.
If Steve had doubted Alfred's description of Lex as brilliant before, he didn't anymore.
"So, we know for a fact that Master Luthor was behind the unauthorized experiments?" Alfred inquired.
Clark turned to him. "He does have a certain track record with those."
Barry took another bite of his pizza. "At least it wasn't a trap." He shrugged. "So, what's the plan?" He asked, his eyes jumping from Bruce to Victor to Diana to Clark without pausing on anyone in particular for more than a second, the nervous eagerness radiating off of him in waves.
"Go down there," Bruce said after a moment, his voice decisive. "Find him. Or lure him out."
"We don't even know what he's up to," Steve pointed out.
"Does it matter?" Bruce demanded. "He's a fugitive from law—"
"Yes, and a dangerous one, too," Steve interrupted. "And you want to just walk into a lion's den knowing that it's exactly what he's waiting for? For all we know, the attack on S.T.A.R. Labs was a ruse to lure you out, to make you go after him and get you to come to his territory where he would have an upper hand. And with a gauntlet that can channel the power from the core of the damned Earth, that's one hell of a hand."
"Yeah, that," Barry nodded and pointed a finger at Steve.
"We talked about not eating down here, Master Allen," Alfred reminded him, although his words lacked their usual sternness.
Bruce ignored them both, his eyes boring into Steve now with an anger and intensity that hadn't existed there before.
"Or, he can be thinking that no one knows where to find him and we might have a chance of actually catching him by surprise," he countered. "Those tunnels have always been more of an urban legend than an actual place. He might be thinking that no one knows they are even real, or that people are not stupid enough to go wandering down there."
"Except for us," Barry piped up, earning an eye roll from Victor. "What? Isn't that the plan?"
"If Lex is there, he can probably put two and two together and figure out that we know about the one running under the Lab," Clark said, his expression pensive.
"There have to be other people, too," Diana added, making all eyes turn to her. "He couldn't have done all of that on his own."
Steve nodded. "And either way, it's a closed space where he has god only knows what weaponry at his disposal. Chances are, we'll end up trapped there."
"Now that's reassuring," Barry muttered.
"Whether he is waiting for us to come or thinks that we have no idea where to look, he will have to come out of his hiding eventually," Steve finished. He rubbed his chin, feeling Diana's gaze on him. "He is still here, after all. One would think that after escaping the prison he would want to leave Gotham as soon as possible."
"Because it was never about escaping," Alfred said. His eyes darted between Bruce and Clark. "It's always been personal."
Bruce turned to Steve and regarded him grimly.
"So you really suggest we just sit and wait?" he asked.
"I say that going down there without knowing what we're dealing with is suicide," Steve responded.
Bruce pursed his lips together, his eyes never leaving Steve's face. "Just because sitting and doing nothing is the one thing you can to do best, Captain Trevor, doesn't mean it's the right course of action now," he said coolly.
The room went still and completely silent around them. On the right, Steve heard Victor inhale sharply. Even Barry stopped chewing, going completely still.
"Bruce," Diana started with a warning.
"You know nothing about what I can do," Steve said quietly, feeling the eyes of everyone on them.
"Steve is right," Diana said firmly, her eyes trained on Bruce, and while Steve appreciated her attempt to put the conversation back on its track, there was something about Batman's face, something about his eyes that told him it wasn't working. "We can't afford to make any rash decisions."
Bruce turned to her. "Is he right because he is right, or because you are sleeping with him?"
Steve's body moved seemingly on a will of its own, before his mind even registered what was happening. A sound of bone hitting bone resonated through him, pain shooting from his wrist and up his arm. Bruce staggered on impact, caught off-guard and more surprised than hurt for a moment. Steve's fingers curled into a fist against the dull ache that came seconds later, his chest heaving. Bruce straightened up, hand reaching for his jaw. It wouldn't be long before a bruise blossomed across his skin, and the thought left Steve with perverse satisfaction.
"Don't ever speak to her that way again," he said quietly, his voice low and dangerous.
Bruce rubbed his jaw and winced. "Or what?" he asked, a dare that Steve was oh so tempted to respond to, very much so.
" Stop! " Diana was standing between them in a second. "That's enough!" She turned to Batman, but her hand remained on Steve's chest, not so much to hold him back but to reassure him, calm him.
He wasn't sure it was working, although it was sobering to have her between them, ironic as it might be. Truth be told, he wasn't sure he wouldn't lunge at Bruce without her being a buffer keeping them apart. He couldn't see her face, couldn't know what her expression was like, but it was enough to make Bruce straighten his back and move back ever so slightly, a bead of blood pooling at the corner of his mouth.
Everyone's eyes were on the three of them, probing and wary, but no one moved.
Blood throbbed in Steve's ears, his heart pounding so fast he could barely stand it.
"Perhaps we need to take a break," Alfred was the first to speak, breaking the sudden spell around them.
And just like that, Steve shook off his stupor. He sucked in an unsteady breath and stepped away from Diana. She turned to him when his movement caused her hand to side off his chest. And then he turned on his heel and walked out of the Batcave, grateful that no one tried to stop him.
Diana looked at Bruce. "You had no right," she said stiffly before she walked away as well.
When she was out of his earshot, Barry turned to Bruce, and for once there was no trace of humour on his face. "You know that if he leaves, she's going with him, right?"
xoox
Steve smacked his palm against the glass wall and clenched his teeth against a jolt of pain.
Wrong hand.
He swore under his breath and hung his head, leaving his palm pressed flat against the cool glass that did little to calm the storm raging inside of him or clear his head.
He was still seeing red, furious and ashamed, not only angered by Bruce's words but also humiliated by his implication that, if Steve was honest with himself, was lurking in the back of his mind as well. Maybe not now, not as much as it used to, but hearing the words out loud, existing outside of his head, gave more weight to the thoughts he didn't want to exist.
Steve didn't care if everyone in the League thought that he was some sort of extension of Diana, merely yet another one of her limbs. Couldn't care less because he knew it wasn't true, even if he felt that way sometimes, too. Perhaps it was inevitable when one loved someone as much as he loved her.
He knew what he was capable of, and she knew it, too. And it was enough. But what angered him was the implied assumption that his relationship with Diana was clouding her judgement, making her take his side even when she didn't agree with him.
Did they really think that? Had they been questioning her decisions since he made a reappearance in her life because they were no longer sure if they could trust her anymore? Surely they knew better than that. Didn't they?
He squeezed his eyes. A shuddered exhale tumbled out of his chest, fogging the cold glass before him.
The door opened and closed quietly behind his back. Steve opened his eyes and straightened up but didn't turn, watching Diana move across the room in the reflection before him. A moment passed, and then her arms slid around his waist. She hugged him close and pressed a kiss to his shoulder, her breath warm on his skin through the fabric of his shirt.
"I'm sorry," Steve murmured, ashamed of his outburst, and even more so of not regretting it.
"I'm not going to make excuses for Bruce," she whispered. She rested her cheek on his shoulder. "He had no right to cross that line."
The anger was back, simmering just beneath the surface.
"No, he didn't." One hand still pressed against the glass, Steve ran his other one back and forth along her forearm. His fingers curled around one of her wrists. "Do you do it?" he asked quietly.
"Do what?"
"Do you take my side because we… because of us?"
She kissed his shoulder once more and buried her nose into his hair near the nape of his neck. "You think I would?"
"No," he sighed, shaking his head. "No, I don't."
They were both biased. And yes, even in a fight he would scan the crowd for her first before he would help someone else. And yes, dammit, Diana might be inclined to listen to his arguments more attentively. But they were both more than the collection of moments they spent alone with one another and the words of love whispered in the dark. She was, first and foremost, a warrior, a protector. He was grateful, endlessly and wholeheartedly, for everything that came next, but their relationship didn't define them. It never had.
Steve's mind drifted to the night on the airfield in 1918 and Diana's voice behind him, calling for him to come back to her. He had wanted to. There was nothing that he had wanted to do more, but he had known that he would never forgive himself for putting his wishes first. And even though part of Diana hated him for making that decision, he also knew that she always understood.
They worked because they kept the other one in check - because of it, or maybe in spite of it, Steve wasn't sure. He didn't know and didn't care. So no, he didn't think that she would stand by his side simply because she loved him. If anything, the opposite was more likely.
They worked because they were never afraid to call each other out on their mistakes, both quick to apologize or make amends when they were due. But even so, it didn't change the fact that he still didn't want the rest of the League to see her that way. He took pride in what Diana meant to those people. A pride he had no right to own but couldn't help feeling nonetheless. He didn't want her to be questioned and doubted because they thought that her personal relationship was affecting her judgement and tipping the scale in her lover's favour by default.
Not that there was anything he could do about it, per se. And that was the most frustrating part of all.
Steve let out a long breath, his eyes trained on the darkness outside, searching for something that wasn't there. He turned around. Diana's grip went loose, her hands sliding to rest on his hips as she moved closer to him. His fingers curled around her shoulders and he leaned forward to press a kiss to her forehead before resting his own against it.
"I'm not as sure as you are," Diana said softly.
He smiled. "You wouldn't do it," he repeated, "but I appreciate the doubt."
"Charmer," her own smile blossomed across her lips. She tugged him closer by the belt loops of his jeans until there was no space and no air left between them. "We don't have to stay here, Steve."
He pulled back, searching her face in the dark – somehow, neither of them had bothered to turn on the light, and at this moment, Steve wished that they had. "I don't understand—"
"We could go to a hotel, or back to Clark's old apartment if you prefer," she suggested. "We don't have to stay in this house, not after... They would understand."
"No," he shook his head. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and sighed. It was a tempting offer, one he would jump at happily under different circumstances. "It's not about me. It will be better, if something happens..." he trailed off and offered her a noncommittal shrug.
Was that what Bruce would have preferred, though?
Diana took his hand and ran her thumb over his knuckles that looked raw and tender even in the faint light of the perimeter lamps shining from the outside, and felt about as great. Steve grimaced a little and stiffened when her thumb trailed over his skin. He had had his fair share of fistfights over the course of his life, most of them ludicrous and petty, all feeling like an adventure more often than not. But it had been a while since the last time it happened and he was out of practice, and the dull throb in his wrist was a sobering reminder of that.
"This looks painful," Diana murmured. She lifted his hand up and brushed a gentle kiss to his knuckles.
The corners of Steve's mouth twitched and tugged upward, forming into a small smile. "Yeah, well, you should see the other guy."
His words made her laugh.
She opened his hand and turned it palm up, and then cupped it over her cheek, her own hand resting on top of it. He stroked the ridge of her cheekbone with his thumb and she smiled that majestic smile of hers at him, the one that never failed to leave him with a wild flutter in his chest and his mind completely devoid of thoughts, save for just one. I love this woman more than I ever thought was possible .
Diana turned her face to kiss the palm of his hand. Her eyes found his in near-complete darkness, and Steve couldn't resist leaning closer to her, craving her nearness. His chest still felt tight, and if Bruce Wayne walked through that door now and made another thoughtless remark, Steve wasn't sure he wouldn't try to swing at him again.
"I may not always agree with you, but I will always choose you," she whispered.
And it was like her words had tugged at a thread inside of him and something began to unravel in his very soul.
"I know."
"Do you?" she asked, pulling back just far enough to search his face.
"Yes, of course," he started and faltered.
She wasn't questioning his honesty, he realized, but rather making him truly hear her. He had said the words of love countless times in the past few weeks, desperate to make sure that she didn't doubt him for even a moment, wishing to catch up on years of not being able to do so. And he meant them, every single one of them. But he could see how the earnestness of their confessions conditioned them both to accept them without question. How maybe sometimes they needed to know that they were being truly heard.
Steve closed his other hand over her cheek, framing her face between his palms, and nodded. "I do."
The turmoil of the day was still churning in his stomach, making him feel sick and dizzy in equal parts. He thought back to the time over a hundred years ago when he first enlisted to be a pilot for the US army. He had thought that they were all fighting for the days when no one would have to feel the same dread that had been churning in his stomach and making his blood run cold.
He wasn't so sure anymore. There were very few moments when he allowed himself to believe that they had achieved what they had been fighting for, or anything at all. But the truth was that the war had never truly ended; it just turned into something covert and hidden over time. Something that no one knew how to fight because few were aware it was even happening.
But now Diana was right before him, both of them breathing the same air, and it dulled the sharpness of the words that had been tossed around not so long ago. On impulse, he bent down and kissed her, and it was chaste and quick and not nearly enough, but she was smiling against his lips and he knew that he would turn heaven and hell inside out if he had to, to have her never stop smiling at him.
"Okay, so, what do you think?" he asked, pulling away because there was still some unfinished business they needed to take care of and he could focus better without touching her, which led, inevitably, to thinking of doing other things to her. "I mean, you went there. What did you see?"
Diana stepped away from him. Immediately, he could feel her restlessness. She rubbed her forehead as she considered his question.
"I don't know Lex Luthor well," she said at last. "But I've known men like him. Men drunk on violence and a sense of their superiority. Not only did we put him in prison, but we also cut into his plan to use enhanced soldiers on innocent people once he returned. I wouldn't expect him to be pleased with it."
"So, in other words, he is pissed," Steve clarified, coaxing another smile out of her.
"Yes, he is," Diana confirmed. Her smile slipped. "He was careless, Steve. He didn't bother covering up his tracks. Quite the contrary, it was like he wanted to be followed and found. He's growing impatient, careless. And once he is too restless, he'll become dangerous. More so than he already is."
Steve frowned.
"Maybe he simply didn't think that he would have to leave alone?" he suggested.
"Or maybe we angered him," she offered. "You should have seen the place. That basement was all but torn apart. Enraged people often don't see reason, and Lex Luthor was not only unreasonable. He wielded a weapon the likes of which don't exist on this planet."
Steve's mouth tightened. "He's used the gauntlet."
It wasn't a question. He recalled the others telling him something about doors being ripped off, about Clark detecting traces of some odd energy.
Diana nodded. "I think so, yes."
"He knows how to use it, then."
She hesitated. "Perhaps. But, does he know how to harness its power?"
Steve had no answer to that. He scrubbed a tired hand over his face and walked over to the dresser to turn on a reading lamp that flooded the room with a soft, honey-coloured glow. And then he regretted it immediately because it made him feel exposed to the darkness behind the glass wall, so piercing that it hurt to look.
He kept it on anyway.
He turned to Diana. "You think it's bad."
"I do," she didn't argue.
"Do you think we should seek him out before he comes for us?"
She wrapped her arms around herself and looked away from him, her eyes trained on the blackness of the lake a mere twenty feet away from them, a slight frown lodged between her brows.
"I think that whatever choice we make, it is going to be the wrong one."
xoox
Bruce stuffed his hands deeper into the pockets of his pants and hunched his shoulders against the wind, but refused to go back inside, not even to get his jacket. It had rained again earlier, and the air was thick with the smell of wet soil and rotting foliage, making him almost wish for the freshness the snowfall might bring. Clark and Victor had left, he was certain of it, but the house felt overcrowded, nonetheless.
Maybe because Barry, who often made it seem like he was everywhere at once, was still around, his voice carrying outside even through the closed door. Or maybe it was because Bruce couldn't help but want his solitude back.
Any moment, he expected Alfred to step out onto the deck to tell him that Diana was leaving, too. That she had had enough and couldn't stay here any longer, regardless of their situation with Lex Luthor. If she did, Bruce wouldn't blame her. She had made her feelings about Steve Trevor abundantly clear more times than he could count. Bruce should have known better than to poke at them so thoughtlessly, and he certainly knew better than to insult her the way he did earlier.
His jaw ached dully every time he moved it or spoke. Her Captain had a good right hook, Bruce could admit that much. Decent precision, too. And hotter blood than Bruce would have given him credit for as well. By morning, there would be a sizable bruise taking up half of his face, he thought absently.
When the door opened behind him, he recognized Clark from the shadow that approached him, his cape swaying as he walked. Still here then. Bruce took in a deep breath, his eyes scanning the lawn and the lake that was barely visible in the night.
"Alfred is making dinner," Clark was the first to break the silence a minute later. "Thought I'd let you know."
"I'm not hungry," Bruce muttered, his stomach in knots.
"Heard your old friend made an appearance," Clark noted, this time with a hint of amusement in his voice.
"Don't start," Bruce grimaced. "I've already heard all about it today."
"How's Selina doing?"
Bruce cast a quick glance in the other man's direction. "You know her?" he asked as impassively as could.
"We've crossed paths," Clark responded vaguely. "Professionally, if you please."
"What'd she do in Metropolis?"
"Same thing as here, I suppose." They stayed quiet for a few moments. "Barry is onto something, Bruce. You know that, right?" Clark paused and added, "She doesn't need us."
Bruce clenched his jaw and winced, working it for a few moments until the discomfort ebbed. "I know." He didn't want to, though. The thought echoed with a sharp pain somewhere in the centre of his chest. "What about you, Clark? Do you need us?"
Clark smirked. "Everyone needs a hobby."
"So you're saying that we're some charity case to you?"
"Don't overestimate yourself," Clark chuckled, shaking his head. "If I wanted to do charity, I'd volunteer at a soup kitchen. What I'm saying is that there is no shame in needing help now and then, or in asking for it," he added seriously. "But this is different. You're stepping into something sacred for Diana. And she has only so much patience for your doing that."
Bruce let out a long breath. "I'm not an idiot. I see the way she looks at him, the way she is around him. I never knew she could be like that, you know?" Without turning, he saw Clark nod out of the corner of his eye, and Bruce pushed a frustrated hand through his hair. "I don't know where I was going with this," he muttered.
"She loves him," Clark noted.
"She does." Bruce touched his jaw gingerly, thinking that maybe he needed to find an ice pack for it. Then again, the frigid air could do the job just as well.
They had had a chance, he figured. He and Diana, when they'd first met. If he had acted sooner, if he had known not to dance around her for as long as he had, foolishly assuming that they had plenty of time. If he had listened to Alfred who had nagged him for weeks do something about it and call her, find an excuse to see her again. Maybe if he had known then what he did now. Maybe if he had told Waller to go to hell when she'd called him with the offer, or if Trevor hung up on her when she had tracked him down and had never come to Gotham. There was an endless string of what-if weaving into an intricate pattern in his mind, none of them making the tightness in his stomach any less uncomfortable.
Bruce could think of a thousand things that had to fall into place to bring them all to this moment. If even one of them got changed, he had no idea how the situation would have played out. Maybe there would never have been Justice League, to begin with.
But one thing Bruce knew for certain – he could have lived for a thousand years and become the best version of himself, and Diana would still never love him the way she loved Steve Trevor.
"He's not going to stop, you know," Clark said, at last.
It took Bruce a moment to figure out that they were no longer talking about Trevor.
He glanced at Clark, "I'm aware."
"Don't underestimate him, is all I'm saying."
Bruce rubbed his eyes. "When did I ever…"
"Not to rub it in but remember that time at the docks—"
"You're not as funny as you think you are," Bruce grumbled.
Clark scoffed. "Who's joking?" He stepped away and glanced at the sky. "Let me know when things get hot."
Bruce turned to him. "Not staying for dinner?" he asked, eyebrow raised.
"Maybe some other time. Got a date," Clark grinned and took off into the sky, leaving nothing but a sharp whoosh of air behind.
xoox
If anyone asked Amanda Waller what had set her on the path that had led to her becoming the Director of a secret government organization, one that was nothing but a pain in the ass for as long as she could remember, a pleasant work environment and excellent health benefits wouldn't make the top of her list. And neither would the steady business hours, by the looks of it.
The time was nearing midnight when she managed to finally turn her laptop off and leave the office. Her husband was going to give her a cold shoulder once more, she thought as she made her way to the elevators, for missing dinner. The fourth dinner this week. And her son's Little League practice. Again.
She almost wished that she could go back to her office and have that glass of whiskey that she'd been thinking of ever since the distress signal had come from the S.T.A.R. Labs that afternoon, sending her agents into a frenzy and leaving her with a massive headache and a mountain of paperwork to sort through. She wasn't surprised to receive a report about a Batman's sighting around the area, but by the time her people had made it there, the Justice League had already cleared out of the building. The confused janitors and the professor who hadn't left the confines of his office since that morning were of little help, which did nothing to cede her growing frustration.
She needed to bring in Lex Luthor and she needed to get the League under some sort of control, and she was starting to feel like she was running out of time. As if there was an invisible clock ticking above her head, counting off the seconds till her superiors decided to replace her with someone more efficient.
Her husband did not understand that.
The parking garage beneath the headquarters of A.R.G.U.S. was lit by dim fluorescent lights, scattered too far apart to provide decent enough illumination. The door leading to the main building squeaked lightly when Amanda Waller pushed it open, stepping into the cool space that smelled like gasoline and damp basement. Her footsteps echoed under the low ceiling and the dark corners, the sound scattering around her and bouncing off the thick concrete walls.
She wished that she had parked in the lot outside, but it had been full by the time she had returned from her useless visit to the S.T.A.R. Labs, her assigned spot taken. At the time, with the frustration that was simmering beneath her skin and making her want to take it out on anyone convenient, she had chosen not to bother, lest she actually bite someone's head off. Not the best move when she was already walking a thin line.
She wished she did bother now. Wished she didn't have to be in the dark sub-basement with its corners drowning in shadows and only a handful of cars still left around. As she was making her way to her car parked a few rows from the door to the main foyer, Waller thought for a moment that she had heard more than one set of footsteps, her stomach giving that small, uncomfortable tug that made her queasy. Yet when she paused and looked around, all but holding her breath for good measure, the place appeared to be empty and still, and the only sound that she could hear was her own escalated heartbeat.
Waller hurried over to her car, the shadows and the low ceiling closing in on her.
She fumbled for her keys, searching for them in her purse, and then promptly dropped them on the concrete floor when she managed to pull them out because her hands were shaking. She forced herself to take a breath.
It was her damned encounter with Wonder Woman the other day that had gotten under her skin, leaving her more shaken than she was willing to admit, the burn of that bloody rope still fresh in her memory. Waller reminded herself that Diana Prince had no reason to return. That, and they had a pretty damn amazing security system here—
She looked up and froze, her mind going completely blank.
Lex Luthor was leaning leisurely against the hood of her car, that small smile playing on his lips that made a chill run down Waller's spine.
She tipped her chin up, adamant not to let her fear show, and pressed her lips into a tight thin line.
"Amanda," Lex greeted her like they were old friends. "I think it's time for us to get to know each other better." He pushed away from her car and took a step forward. "What do you say?"
xoox
The Claw of Horus was a work of art, intricately crafted by people who had put their will and might into a weapon that was meant to outlive hundreds of generations of their descendants. It caught the faint light around them and reflected it, shining brighter than the sun itself.
And right now, it was wrapped tightly around Lex Luthor's hand that was clenched around Steve's throat, squeezing tighter with each passing moment. There was madness in Lex's eyes. Madness and hunger for pain and revenge. He had been outplayed and he wanted retribution, and he didn't care who he was making pay for what had been done to him.
"This yours?" he asked Diana, lifting Steve higher into the air.
Diana refused to look at Steve's face, at his hands clawing at the gauntlet to try and loosen its grip, his teeth gritted against the effort. If she looked at him, it would be the end of everything.
"Are you going to just stand there?" Lex mocked her, feigning concern.
Anger flared up inside of her, burning white-hot. She lunged at him, blind with fear for the man that was slowly becoming nothing but a rag doll in the hands of a maniac.
Lex smiled wider, pleased. As if in slow motion, Diana watched him clench his hand sharply around Steve's neck. Heard the bones snap with a sickening crunch.
No .
Diana watched a brief flicker of recognition in Steve's eyes before the light went out of them and he collapsed in a heap at Lex's feet, his face turned to her, staring unseeingly straight into her soul. A scream pierced the air, inhuman and full of such anguish that she thought her heart might burst.
Forgetting Lex, Diana dropped to her knees in front of Steve, cradling his lifeless body to her.
"No. No, please, you can't. Steve, please, you promised…" Her hand was shaking when she ran it over his hair, his face, willing him desperately to come back, but he remained limp in her arms. "Don't leave me." She curled over him, unable to breathe, to think. A sob clawed out of her throat, her tears falling on his cheeks. "I love you, please don't leave me."
He was dead. He was dead and there was nothing that she could do, no magic tricks left up her sleeve. He was wrong about her being able to bring him back. Her mother had been wrong when she had told him that decades ago. How could they all be so foolish? Diana was meant to keep him safe, was meant to keep him with her for the rest of eternity. He had promised… he had promised to her that he would never leave. Not again, she couldn't do it again.
A shadow fell over her, sharp and invasive, and Diana's arms tightened protectively around Steve's body, her breath coming out in short, shallow gasps.
Lex was looking down at them with disgust and disdain, the gauntlet on his hand reflecting the sunlight.
His eyes fixed on her face and he tilted his head, studying her with mock pity, his gaze empty and devoid of compassion. "Couldn't save him, could you? As magnificent as you are."
Diana awoke with a start, a silent scream lodged in the back of her throat and her skin covered with a film of cold sweat.
Steve…
Her eyes snapped open, roaming around in panic, taking in the ragged shadows painting an intricate pattern across the ceiling and the dark shapes of the furniture lining the walls of her room in Bruce's house on the lake. (He had given it to her thinking that she would enjoy the view.)
The air was cool against her heated skin, the expensive sheets tangled around her body. The house was silent and still, and there was no one else around save for the warm presence behind her. Steve, his chest rising and falling against her shoulder blades, while his breath fell softly on her bare shoulder.
He stirred when she shifted and rolled around to face him in the dark, blinking sleepily at her when he found her looking at him.
"Diana?" His voice was low and hoarse.
She could feel the warmth radiating off of him, could smell her soap on his skin and the places where he was pressed against her moments ago missed the contact already. He looked at her, sleepy and worried and very much alive and here with her.
A dream. It was only a dream.
Diana watched a faint frown appear between his brows, but he made no attempt to reach for her, touch her, and she was grateful. With her whole body feeling like an open wound, she was afraid that she wouldn't be able to stand it if he did. She shook her head even though he didn't ask anything and pulled away from him. She sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the mattress as she took a breath, and then another one, her heart beating frantically against her ribs. So fast that it was making her dizzy. Making her feel like she was going to be sick.
It had felt too real, so painfully real-
Diana felt the mattress shift behind her and slid from under the sheets and out of the bed, unable to bear the thought of being touched, not yet, though she knew he wanted to.
The floor was cool beneath her feet, her skin prickling with goosebumps. She didn't feel the cold like people did, not exactly, but this wasn't it. It was the same kind of fear that had been gnawing on her insides for weeks, since the night when Steve had told her about her mother's revelation, and her own doubts that came with it. Doubts she knew she would never be able to quell.
She had failed to save Steve before. If something happened to him—what if her mother was wrong? What if—
When Diana turned around, she found him wide awake and propped up on his elbow, watching her, a silent question in his eyes. Her chest tightened with tenderness and a million other things that she had no words to express them. She was not unfamiliar with the fear but she didn't know how to not be scared of losing something that meant the world to her. More than the world.
She bit her lip and ran her hands through her hair, over her face, desperate to shake off the foul aftertaste that the dream had left her with. Bruce was wrong, she thought. Steve was not her weakness. But he was right about something else – Steve was her weak spot. She wanted – selfishly - nothing more than to lock him up someplace safe and keep him to herself for as long as they both lived. To protect him from the world, from every bad thing she had seen and everything that had yet to come their way. Knowing that she couldn't do it was making Diana sick to her stomach, for she knew that he would never forgive her for trying.
When she looked up again, Steve was tossing the covers aside and climbing out of the bed as well.
She reached for him when he stepped close to her, her fingers trailing down the stubble on his cheek and to the pulse point beneath his jaw, just to make sure. It hammered fast and steady against her fingertips. Her heart constricted with relief and she drew her hand back, as though he could dissipate before her eyes if she wasn't careful enough. It left her terrified to close what little distance was still left between them even though she wanted nothing more.
She was glad when he did it instead.
"Hey, what is it?" Steve whispered, moving to her and crowding her space until he was all she could feel.
He touched her face, lifting it up to his, and when his thumb brushed over her cheekbone and it came off wet. She hadn't even realized that she was crying.
"Diana…" he started, and the lilt in his voice all but undid her.
She was shaking her head again, her throat tight and unbidden tears burning her eyes. She had spent decades reliving the loss of him and having no one understand it, but now he was here, and it was the greatest gift she could have asked for. And she still didn't know how to accept it without feeling like he kept on slipping right through her fingers every time she looked away.
Steve leaned closer to her. "I'm sorry."
She inhaled shakily and swallowed past a lump in her throat. "Don't say that."
She didn't want him to be sorry, didn't want him to think that any of this was his fault or that she would have it any other way, given a choice. No, she needed him to know how deeply she cared for him, despite, or because of, everything that had happened between them. Maybe both.
Diana lifted her hands and pressed them flat to his chest that continued to rise and fall slowly and steadily, his heart beating against her palm.
"Do you want to tell me what it was?" Steve asked quietly.
"No," she whispered.
She didn't want to think about it, about the way his life had drained out of him before her eyes and there was nothing left but an empty shell of a man she used to know. She looked up at him, desperate to make him understand, and when he opened his arms, she stepped into them, tucking her face into the hollow of his throat and allowing him to hold her, soothed by the beating of his heart against her.
"You can tell me," he murmured, kissing her hair, his hand running over her back, over the thin fabric of her shirt. "You can tell me anything, Diana. I just—I want you to know that."
"I don't know how," she said softly, breathing him in.
Steve pressed another kiss to the crown of her head. "I don't want to be doing this to you."
It took her a moment to realize that he had completely misunderstood what had happened. "You're not doing anything, love. There are things that I feel that you have no control over."
"I know." His hand ran up and down her back once again. She could all but hear questions rolling on the tip of his tongue, but he didn't press for more. An unsteady exhale stuttered out of his chest, reverberating into her as he tightened his hold around her. "I'm not going anywhere. I need you to know that, too."
"I know," Diana echoed and looked up to find his gaze.
He brushed her hair back from her face, his eyes searching hers. She could all but hear the wheels turning in his head, searching for the right things to say, helplessness bringing a panic to his gaze that she wished she could erase. She wished she could make it easier for him as well as for herself, and yet here she was, having no clue as to how to do either.
Steve leaned forward and rested his forehead to hers. "I love you," he murmured.
The corners of her mouth tugged upwards, curving into a small smile. There was something about the way he was saying it, the reverence in his voice that made her feel so cherished and wanted and adored that she could barely stand it.
"Steve, I—" Diana started, grasping for words.
She was cut off by the sudden blare of an alarm that pierced the air, so loud that it made her flinch. Steve snapped his head up, startled, and nearly leaped away from her, looking wildly around. Diana reached for him instantly, fingers curling around his arm, her own heartbeat spiking momentarily.
"Diana—"
"It's alright," she said.
He turned to her and swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. "What the hell is that?"
She took a breath and forced herself to drag her gaze away from the door, on the other side of which, she knew, a pandemonium was about to erupt, searching his face for a moment.
"Lex."
Author's note: Only a few chapters left and we'll be done :) I cannot believe it's been almost 3 years since I started this story (It was never meant to drag on for this long, by the way :P)
Also, it's my birthday week, so please comment and share your thoughts and opinions and insights :) It's all I want, I swear! (Though if anyone has a Ferrari or a villa in the Maldives you no longer want, I'd be happy to take them off your hands, obviously.) But on a serious note, take care and please be kind to yourselves.