Haunted
Ugly_Girl (mickerella@yahoo.com)

Disclaimers: Don't own 'em, don't make money off 'em. The only real crime I'm committing is the overuse of adverbs, and ending far too many sentences with prepositions.

A/N: This story was inspired by a challenge given on the JL Animated RPG message boards (like Artemis's "Sick Day" short). The first paragraph was given to us…the rest was up to the author.

HAUNTED

Part XV

"Why didn't you ask J'onn?" Clark peered curiously at Diana through his glasses.

Diana shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She had asked Clark to meet her at a fast food restaurant. If they had to, they would say that he was interviewing her. In actuality, she didn't want to ask Clark this question in the Watchtower – she wasn't sure how well Batman monitored the conversations that took place there. "It didn't seem fair of me to ask him – we all trust him to keep the secrets that he gleans from our minds to himself. I couldn't ask him to break that trust."

She was lying. In truth, she was afraid that J'onn would realize her plan, that she would involuntarily give it away or that he would pick it up telepathically, and try to dissuade her. She wanted to avoid J'onn completely until it was too late for him to do anything about it.

Clark nodded, seemed to buy her explanation. "I have to admit that I'm surprised you are asking me this." He ran his hand through his hair. "Are you sure? Bruce?"

She leaned forward, trying to be as earnest as possible. "I love him. And I just need to know how to figure out if he feels anything for me." She was, she told herself, only partially lying – or rather, only partially telling the truth. But if she told Clark the entire truth, the reason why she wanted to know if Bruce loved her, then he would most likely do his best to stop her – and alert Bruce of her plan.

She wasn't going to be an idiot; she had every intention of being as safe as she could possibly be, and letting Bruce know in time for him to save her.

But somehow, she was sure that neither Bruce nor Clark would appreciate that.

"Well, then, as you well know, with Bruce it is very difficult to tell what he is feeling." Clark stopped, snorted lightly through his nose. "Impossible, actually."

Diana picked up a french fry. "There must be a way. What does he do differently with the people for whom he feels love that those he doesn't?"

Clark took a bite of his burger, grimaced. "I should have gotten the salad," he muttered, and added, "I've never seen him in love with anyone. I know there have been a few women who've gotten close to him, but—"

"But what about Alfred, Nightwing, everyone else?" Diana popped another fry into her mouth, munched happily. "He loves them."

Clark gave her a confused glance. "But not in the way that you are talking about—"

"I'll take anything I can get," Diana interrupted him again.

Clark stared at her, and Diana saw a mixture of pity and sadness pass briefly across his face. She realized that he thought she must be desperate, pining for a man who couldn't possibly ever enter into a relationship with her.

I am desperate, she thought, just not for the reasons he imagines. I want to save Bruce's life, not throw myself into his life on my knees. Despite the urgency of the situation, she had to bite back a grin. Imagine…an Amazon, desperate for a man to love her.

Not that it wouldn't be nice, to have that kind of dedication, that focus Batman has for his job directed even infinitesimally toward yourself, a tiny voice inside her whispered.

She acknowledged the voice, had to admit that it wasn't wrong. She wouldn't ever feel desperate for his love or beg for it, but she wouldn't avoid it, either, should it happen to come her way.

Clark's voice broke her reverie. "One thing that I've noticed about Bruce is that when he loves someone, he'll inconvenience himself for their benefit. He won't do that often – most of the time he'll do what he wants, what he thinks is best."

"I've noticed," Diana said dryly.

"But he'll go out of his way to make compromises—as long as it doesn't endanger his city, or anyone else on Earth." Clark threw down his burger. "I can't eat this."

Diana picked it up. "Do you want my chicken sandwich?" She took a big bite of the burger and managed to grin without pickles falling from her mouth.

"No," he said, watching her stuff her face with a mixture of awe and bewilderment. She was one of the most beautiful, elegant, amazing people he knew, but she was enjoying the greasy burger like it was ambrosia. And somehow enjoying it without her natural grace and beauty ever deserting her.

She swallowed. "So, I just have to remember a time when he inconvenienced himself for me."

"It's not that easy, Di—"

She waved her hand. "Oh, I didn't think it would be easy. But I think that my instincts will guide me the rest of the way."

Clark frowned. "Maybe."

"When did you realize that Lois loved you?" Diana wondered.

Clark blushed.

Diana stared at him, caught in the middle of another big bite. She slowly removed the sandwich from her mouth. "You mean, during…"

"Yes." His reddened further, cleared his throat. "Not that that is always a sign of love, you know." He cleared his throat again, asked hesitantly, "Have you and Bruce…?" He let the question hang.

Diana grinned. "I wish." She said it partly because she was deeply attracted to Bruce, partly because Clark was so uncomfortable. Men were ridiculously funny.

His color bordered on purple. "Oh…ah…I think…I hear someone calling for help. It might be a job for…you know…"

Diana nodded, her grin widening. "Of course."

He slid out of the booth, but Diana caught his wrist, suddenly serious. "Clark…if Lois was in trouble, even if she didn't love you back, you'd do anything in your power to help her, wouldn't you?"

"Yes," he said immediately. He paused, then added, "Diana, I am afraid I'll see you hurt badly by this."

"I might be," she said. "But it is worth the risk." She knew she meant more than he realized, but it was the truth nonetheless.

He squeezed her hand, then slipped out the front door.

Diana leaned back in her seat, finished the last of the burger, her chicken sandwich, and her fries. She ordered an additional milkshake.

And thought of a way to inconvenience Bruce, to start the chain of events that would change her relationship with him forever.

Part XVI

Jason shook his head doubtfully. "It sounds dangerous. It wouldn't do him any good if you end up just like us, another ghost to haunt him." He was dressed in his Robin costume, the bright colors somehow blending in well with the interior of Uzana Costache's apartment.

Roxana's eyebrows were drawn together, her own disapproval of the plan evident on her face. "Too dangerous," she agreed. "You could miscalculate."

Diana looked from one to the other, touched by their obvious concern for her. But she was resolved to carry it out. "I could," she said, "but I'll take that chance. He can't continue to live like this."

"Are you even certain it will work?" Roxana said. "Mamma said that you might not be one of the people who can break the curse, that you might just be magically sensitive."

"I'm going to find out which one it is tonight." Diana rushed on, before they could ask how she intended to do that, "And once I find out, we'll need to move quickly. How many of the others do you think you can find by tomorrow afternoon?"

Roxana and Jason looked at each other. "I think fifty to a hundred," Jason said.

Diana hoped he was right. If the villainous ghosts figured out what she intended to do, they might gather and strike at Bruce – and there would be far too many for Jason to handle alone. "Good. If you wait for me at the Manor, I'll get everything else ready."

Uzana shuffled in from one of the bedrooms, carrying something in her hand. She held it out to Diana. "This is the least I can do."

Diana took the item, saw that it was a small amulet with a black cord attached. She examined it curiously. "What properties does it contain?"

Uzana gave her a worried look. "Normally, this amulet is used to cause harm, to deny them the afterlife. It keeps their spirit close to their body." She sighed. "I'm ashamed to admit that I even have such a powerful and evil amulet, but at least I'm using it for a good purpose."

Diana laid a reassuring hand on the woman's arm. "I'm sure you wouldn't have used it," she said. She continued examining the amulet, understanding its purpose. "So, if I wear this around my neck, it will keep me from traveling to the Elysian Fields – and therefore make it easier for Bruce to revive me, to draw my spirit back to my body."

"Yes." The woman frowned, her face creasing. "I wish you would reconsider. The two young ones are correct – this is a dangerous business you plan."

"But it will save more than Batman." Diana gestured toward Roxana. "Your granddaughter will be able to leave this plane of existence, travel to the destination for which she was meant. All of them will, the innocents and criminals alike."

Jason grinned. "I've been there, and I wouldn't mind getting back, that's certain."

Roxana nodded. "And as much as I love you, Mamma, you must admit that my being here causes you more pain than happiness. Your guilt is nearly palpable."

Diana began to repeat what Roxana had said, then realized by Uzana's reaction that she had heard it herself. Something – somehow – she had broken through that wall of silence brought on by the overwhelming grief she had experienced.

Tears spilled down Uzana's cheeks as she faced Roxana. Diana backed away, realizing that the two were going to say their final goodbyes and wanting them to have privacy. She went out onto the small balcony; Jason followed her.

"He's just gotten back from the Watchtower," Jason said. "I should go, make sure that he's safe."

Diana smiled. "I imagine he'll be here soon enough," she said. "He told me that he tracks my movements when I'm in Gotham – once he realizes that I'm here, he'll probably want to confront me."

"He doesn't accept help easily," Jason said. They stood in silence for a moment, then he added, his voice sad, "Once you do this, he'll never forgive you."

Diana's heart clenched. She'd known it, guessed it, but hearing Jason say it made the truth more real. "I know," she said softly. "He won't trust me again, not in any personal way. We'll be teammates, nothing more. Not friends…not—" She broke off, unsure of what else she and Bruce were, and unwilling to say it because it made the inevitable loss that much more difficult. "Not anything," she finished quietly. She bowed her head, trying to fight her feelings of uncertainty. She didn't want her relationship with Bruce to end like this. "But what other choice do we have?"

Jason didn't answer. He knew, as well as she, that there was no other choice save waiting for someone else to die.

Chances were, that person would be Bruce.

She sighed. "You should go to him now. He'll be starting his patrol soon."

He was there one second, gone the next, and Diana stared up into the night. She slowly flew upwards, sat on the top of the building, her legs dangling over the edge.

And she waited for him.

Part XVII

"Princess."

Diana turned. She'd known he was there, had heard the sound of the grappling as it wrapped around the ledge.

Jason was behind him, and he gave her a wink and disappeared. No other ghosts were around.

"You've been coming to my city far too often," Batman said.

She tried to grin, knew she failed. This was where she was going to begin her lies to him, hated that she had to do it. "I work here, Batman."

"On the roof of Uzana Costache's building?"

"No." She stood finally. "I am here because I had a few questions for her."

"What kind of questions?" He crossed his arms, let his cape fall around him. "I thought we'd already ascertained that she couldn't reverse the curse." He said the last word as if it was forced from him, as if he hated acknowledging that a curse might actually exist.

She turned away, unable to face him as she lied, and did her best to act the part. "Because I've been having…dreams." She let her voice waver. "Nightmares." She put a hand to her head, hoping she looked distraught. She probably did – she felt distraught. "Sometimes even when I'm awake."

"What has that to do with Costache?" His voice gentled slightly. It gave her hope, even as she felt the walls of her deception closing in on her, leading to his inevitable indifference – or hatred.

She rubbed her arms, as if trying to dispel a chill. "They've been about you – about the ghosts. I wanted to find out if the dreams were part of the curse."

"Are they?" he asked harshly, and she knew that the idea of her suffering because of a curse on him would eat at him, torment him as much as the ghosts did. Maybe more.

"Yes," she whispered. "And no. They aren't caused by the curse, but they are because of it. She said that my sensitivity to magic is allowing me to see the effects of the curse – now, in the form of the ghosts, and in the future."

"She said the dreams are prophetic?"

"Perhaps." Her throat tightened, and she fought real tears. She hated lying to him. She wished she could simply ask him if he loved her, wished that he would tell her.

But he wasn't the type of man to say something like that.

"Diana—" He put his hand on her shoulder, and the tears that she'd been suppressing filled her eyes. She almost couldn't bear his kindness, not when she was deceiving him like this. "What did you see in them?"

"You. Dying," she said brokenly, her voice choked by the sobs building up within her. "Jason trying to fight the ghosts off, but failing; and the rest of us unable to help you, unknowing that you needed help." She paused, took a shuddery breath. "And everything within me is saying that it is going to happen tomorrow morning."

He drew her to him, cradled her face in the crook of his neck, his hand on her hair. His breath whispered past her ear as he spoke. "I'm not going to die, Diana. If it makes you feel better, I'll not go to sleep tomorrow morning."

She shook her head violently. "It doesn't happen while you are asleep, like it did before. They attack you, and you can't call for help. You never have time."

He stepped back, raised her chin with one gloved hand, made her look at him squarely. "I'll be fine, Diana."

"Not if you are in Gotham," she said.

"I'm not going to let them run me out of my city, Diana." His thumb stroked a tear from her cheek.

"No, I know…and you shouldn't." She took a deep breath. "But will you do one thing for me, just for tomorrow morning?" He didn't answer, and she realized that he wouldn't make a promise without knowing what he was promising. "When you are done with your patrol, just for tonight, will you come to the Watchtower, sleep there this morning?"

"Diana—"

"You can use my room," she said urgently, before he could argue. "I have monitor duty early, I won't even be in there by the time you've completed your patrol and gotten to the satellite." He still didn't answer, and she added, "I know it's an inconvenience, but…please…" She lifted her hand, laid her palm alongside his jaw, "I would feel so much better knowing you are safe. Just for one morning. Please. For me, if not for yourself."

"Diana—" He broke off again, listened to something Oracle was saying, then told her, "I have to go."

He turned, and she caught his hand. "Will you come?"

He shook his head, and her heart dropped until he said, "I don't know, Diana."

She let him go, knowing she'd have to accept that as an answer for now. Jason materialized beside him, followed him over the ledge.

"Keep him safe, Jason," she whispered.