Praeter
Ch. 6: Ending
Author: Miss Lizz
Rating: R for everything from previous chapters
Disclaimer: Nothing here is mine.
Sonnet 71No longer mourn for me when I am dead
Then you shall hear the surly sullen bell
Give warning to the world that I am fled
From this vile world with vilest worms to dwell.
Nay, if you read this line, remember not
The hand that writ it, for I love you so
That I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot
If think on me then should make you woe.
O if, I say, you look upon this verse
When I perhaps compounded am with clay,
Do not so much as my poor name rehearse,
But let you love even with my life decay,
Lest the wise world should look into your moan
And mock you with me after I am gone.
- William Shakespeare (1564-1616)
When the demons that plagued her vanished as quickly as they came, Diana was left temporarily too surprised to notice much of anything. She was caught so off guard, she froze in utter amazement that the onslaught stopped and so suddenly she literally reeled. For a moment, nothing broke through her bewilderment until the thunderous roaring made itself known like a floodtide. Turning, all that met her eyes was a screaming comet of black crashing earthward. Before her stunned gaze, the opened-mouth skull reared back, bony arms driving what looked like a pocketknife in its grip sharply downward to the ground.
The Reaper and its scream of rage dissolved almost before the sword struck whatever its target was. It was gone. It was over. She felt like laughing, a short, uneasy laugh tinged with weariness and even a bit of hysteria.
But then a dreadful realization struck her that a component was missing, a very important part of this all, of her, was missing.
J'onn?
He was nowhere to be seen. A terrible thought assailed her. That thing had cleaved a sword downward… Oh gods… Where was J'onn? Was he…?
A headlong dive brought the Amazon to the area from whence the Reaper vanished, her head and heart pounding in a sudden feeling of dread and overwhelming fear. She broke through the canopy of trees and found the broken, torn place where the final battle ended. It was on the ground she skidded to a halt and stared in horror at the sight before her.
Great Hera.
She found J'onn. She almost wished she had not. He defeated the Reaper, saved untold millions and had died in the process. Why did he have to die? Why!?
Diana stumbled over to his body and stared down at him with a hollow feeling welling up in her chest and tears welling up in her eyes. Even though she knew death in battle was more often than not the fate of heroes, it never seemed fair. As she fell to her knees beside him, it didn't then at all.
The claymore she had seen the Reaper cleave downward was buried to the hilt in the right side of her greatest friend's ribcage. There was so much blood! She choked on a sob, trying to still the violent heaves that threatened to make her lose the contents of her stomach. Never in her life had she seen so much blood. With trembling hands, Diana hesitantly touched his cheeks, ignoring the blood running from his mouth, finally giving in to the sobs as she cradled his head in her arms and bent down to rest her forehead on his.
He can't be dead. He can't be. He was the one most full of life, the one who won this battle. J'onn, don't die on me! Don't leave me, please! You can't be dead!
Any minute she was going to wake up in her bed and find this had all been some terrible nightmare.
… No. This was real. With greater sobs, she finally admitted it to herself.
Where was his mail tunic? He was stripped bare from the waist up, baring to her eyes all his gruesome injuries. What had happened to his tunic? What if he got cold? She hated the sight of that sword-hilt jutting out of his chest.
And the blood… Gods, he was bleeding so much, it was like a red flood from his body. She loved him too much to calmly see him now, and the blood was making her queasy and the dry heaves threatened to become worse. In her memory, she had never seen him injured so badly, it terrified her. The blood terrified her. It was still pumping from his—
Wait, he's still bleeding? He's still bleeding! Thank the gods.
He's alive!
Fresh tears spilled but this time in sheer elation that he lived. He was only unconscious. But that sword… if it wasn't removed, it would surely kill him.
Slowly, from somewhere overhead, she heard the sound of gently beating wings growing closer and knew immediately who it was. Her heart sank like a stone.
"You came for him?" It was a quiet question of defeat but her insides felt like a spear had been slammed through her. Was he to die after all? She looked at the young woman smiling down at her.
"No. I came to thank him and to send the souls to the place where they belong… and to give you this. You dropped it," a yellowed envelope was placed in her hands. She stared at it for a moment like she had never seen it before looking again at Death. "He's not going to die this time. There's a cottage conveniently around the way you can lay him in and rest for a while. I'm afraid I can't stay though. Tell him 'thank you' for me?"
She could only nod dumbly; the young woman smiled her gratitude and was gone, leaving Diana alone in a strange forest on another realm of existence with a badly bleeding J'onn. Tucking the letter into her cuirass, she gazed down at J'onn in a wincing determination.
The claymore had to be removed. She would not be able to move him with it impaling his body to the grassy earth. It was almost glad she was that he was unconscious for this; maybe he would be unaware of the pain. With a clenched jaw and a deep breath, Diana stood and braced her feet apart to grip the hilt and ease it as quickly as she dared out.
J'onn did not remain lifeless for long much to her dismay. His hands balled up into tight fists, his lips pulled back over his teeth in a grimace of agony that caused her to squeeze eyes shut against new tears and continue her efforts. He was in such agony and this time she was the cause of it. All she could do was pull the sword free.
Throwing it away, heedless of where it fell, she dropped down to her knees once again, tearing her cloak from her shoulders and ripping it into shreds. The flow of blood that had increased to frightening measure must be stopped or he'll die no matter what Death said. A piece of her cloak wadded up was pressed against the gaping hole left from the blade in an attempt to staunch the flow but it was more difficult now that he was awake and moving.
He coughed up blood, a wet hacking sound that tore at her, and looked at her with pain fogged eyes just slightly lighter in colour than his blood. "Thank you."
She was amazed he could speak at all, he was so weak now that his voice was barely audible. But the stubborn Martian sat up, a low moan issuing forth from deep within. She wanted nothing more than to push him back down but she knew the sword had gone all the way through, which meant another extensive wound on his back that must be seen to.
She still glared at him for moving so abruptly.
He was remarkably stoic under so much pain radiating through his body. She was very astounded by how he was holding up. Wrapping the makeshift bandages around his chest, she helped him stand, noting how he gritted his teeth. How far was that cottage from here? She wasn't sure how well or how far he could travel.
"Far enough."
She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, pursing her lips in disfavour that he would use his telepathy when he should be saving as much strength as he could. His reassuring smile failed horribly as it turned into a grimace of pain.
Diana never left his side, continuing to lend her support as she led him in the direction Death indicated, hoping the cottage was close. The stone path they traveled led around a bend and there was indeed a small stone cottage that looked to have been abandoned for years if not centuries. Neither of them felt inclined to stop and look at the place long, J'onn was losing consciousness and Diana wanted somewhere they could both lay down and rest.
Hauling the rapidly blacking-out Martian inside, she sat him on the first upright piece of furniture they came to, that it appeared to be a bed led her to hope fortune was changing for the better. When he lost consciousness completely, he would have toppled off the bed had she not gently moved his body into a prone position.
The dim light filtering through the windows and open doorway was just enough for her to clearly see his wounds and find out how extensive they were. Terrifying to look at, the majority of the gashes were fairly minor, not being mortally deep and all the blows were clean much to her relief. None were jagged though the sword wound worried her the most. He needed a real doctor to look at him, not her.
With nothing in the cottage itself clean enough for her to ever consider using as bandages, Diana ripped the rest of her cloak into strips without a second thought. She needed to bind the rest of his wounds and tend her own before anything else could happen to them.
She might have asked herself what else could possibly happen to them but if past experiences had taught her anything it was that something unbelievably horrible would occur is she so much as thought that. They really didn't need anything like that happening right now.
End ch. 6
Next up is the letter that J'onn thought was so important. Are you interested? Did you like this chapter in what is so far my longest story to date, chapter-wise?
Please send reviews. Thank you.