Author's Note:  Eep.  Very short.  Retarded.  Wanted to write though.  Debated much on how to execute.  Very retarded, maybe, I think, yes.

Legalities:  Propertyoftheeemmmm, not meee and I'm sorry!!

Rating:  ???????

Tears of Innocents

By:  Carmen Wayne

            Pacing through some doors that led into the meeting hall of the JLA Watchtower, Wonder Woman crossed.  Her eyes were spaced out as she went for her friend, Kal-El AKA Superman.  He stood, patiently waiting for her.  Once he noticed her, he started over to meet her half way.

            "Are you all right, Diana?" he asked, concerned.  "Your message wasn't exactly thorough…"

            "Yes, yes, I suppose I'm all right."  She took his hand and led him for the JLA table.  "I must talk with you, however."

            "Okay…"

            He sat down in the chair marked with the Flash's emblem, and she sat down next to him in the Green Lantern chair.  Superman noticed Wonder Woman's eyes were fixed on the ground.  Gently, he lifted her chin so their blue sets could look at one another.

            "Diana…?"

            "I had a dream, last night, Kal."

            "A dream?"

            "Yes.  A dream that disturbed me.  May I share it with you?"

            "Always, Diana."

            Wonder Woman folded her hands in her lap, watching him.

            "It was a world unlike our own.  There were no heroes as our world has.  Justice was random and rare, and war had not been experienced for a long time.  It was in America, the United States.  People were cruel, unpatriotic, prejudice, unjust, hateful.  And above all, arrogant.  As I said before, metahumans were but a dream in this world.

            "But it was a good time, economically.  Light shone across the country, showing it's prosperity.  True, there were still the few that suffered the back hand of the slightly unsteady economy, but for the most part, people lived their lives as they always had.  Cursing those who angered them, whether they be strangers or families.

            "But then… it happened."

            She drew in a deep breath.  Superman remained silent, listening attentively to her.

            "In a ray of black, came four flying objects.  Light was within, but held down by the dark.  And then the four objects landed in four different places.  Two in the same area, the other two in other places.  The two that were together were the blackest, I must say.  And they did not hit the ground.  They hit two large towers.  I believe it was as deliberate as the one hitting what I *believe* was a governmental building.

            "But the forth one, I detected the light rising up against the darkness, and that is why it hit nothing but ground, in my dream.

            "And then my dream went back to those towers.  Down below, people watched in horror at the smoldering sky scrapers—they seemed to be the World Trade Centers, Kal-El.  Their lives had went from violent, cruel and yet normal, to a topsy turvy… dishevelment…  I could see the buildings as a light trying to fight darkness that spread from the areas that those flying objects, planes, had hit.

            "I could see the people.  People were fleeing from the buildings, as rescue workers and police officers ran in to help others out.  One man, neither a rescue worker nor an officer of the law, stated he was to go in to help them…  And he did go in, a man that probably never imagined having his life in such peril, especially on American soil.

            "And then… that dishevelment of the people turned to utter and complete horror.  The dark had won over the light, and the towers came down.  People in the streets ran for their lives as the mega-scrapers fell to the New York ground they stood upon.  One tower went down, and then the other.  Many people couldn't escape the collapse… inside or outside the buildings…

            "When the collapse was through, the city was covered in a haze of smoke, dust… and sorrow.  Men, women and children wept, and bled, in the streets.  Innocent bystanders who had never truly experienced terror were slapped in the face.  They were so afraid.  The blackness was so THICK, Kal…  It was frightening, I never imagined something like it before…

            "But then, from all the sorrow and the blood and the tears and… and the darkness… came rays of hope, of light.  Those who had never been appreciated before rose up from the black despair, working as they never had before.  Heroes.  They were rescue workers—firemen, policemen, paramedics, and the general public, and countless others…

            "I felt the deaths of thousands, and the mourning of billions as the world went to a standstill.  But then, as the mourning faded a new feeling came to pass.  A feeling neither you, nor I, nor any of us… costumed heroes could ever create in our world…"

            "What…?" Superman asked softly.  "What feeling?"

            "Love and patriotism through the thirst for justice…"  She looked at the ground once more.  "As I began to awake from my sleep…  I thought through all of the pain and the destruction that that world suffered in a way I had never experienced war."  Her eyes came to meet with Superman's.  "As a individual.  A helpless individual.  Feeling violated because every shred of security that she had ever known was torn from her.  And I cried…"

            "Diana…"

            Wonder Woman took his hand and squeezed it gently.

            "And then I realized that the blackness cannot stay forever.  For innocents were crying."

            "I don't understand…"

            "As long as there are tears, Kal-El, there is empathy and love.  And as long as there is empathy and love, there is courage and the need for freedom to experience those things.  What evil can stand against that?  Both in this world and that world, that holds true.  And in the end, it will be the tears of innocents that bring forth righteous justice…  But Kal?"

            "Yes, Diana?"

            "When was the last time that, in this world, a hero cried?"

            "Not… since innocence died."

            "Exactly…  that dream, be it prophecy of a far land, or just an overactive imagination, has to be listened to.  We have based our actions on scientific matters, and political matters, and we have forgotten how to follow our hearts.  If we don't, and soon, we may lose.  And unlike that world, we may never reclaim the light again."

The End