Story 10: Welcome Back, Hero
Author's Note:
This story briefly addresses events in the Superman Wonder Woman Annual 1, Action Comics 34, and Superman Wonder Woman 11.
As the strange and improbable wind whipped around Diana, sending her lasso trailing behind her, dark hair jutting upward and outward, she grimaced. When would this nightmare come to an end? When would Clark be finally free of Doomsday and the planet safe from Brainiac?
Diana didn't know, but she was damn tired of what seemed to be an endless cycle of senseless death and destruction. And this place, the Phantom Zone, a dimension out of time and a wretched prison that held the most vile creatures known to men and gods, Diana had come seeking to strike a bargain with a conqueror, an enslaver.
Desperate times called for desperate measures. The threat to humanity by Brainiac's mothership, to all of Earth, had brought about this extreme measure on Diana's part. The thought of it, of the seven million minds held captive by Brainiac, heroes and innocents alike, and the many more who would fall prey to the megalomaniac if not stopped, made Diana's insides boil with godly rage.
"Mongul," she bellowed into the chilling, putrid silence of the Phantom Zone.
Standing atop a mountain of what looked like sand but felt like granite, Diana scanned the expanse of the dull, gray landscape before her, knowing the brutal beast she sought, if near, would've heard her warrior's cry.
Had it only been less than two hours ago since Diana had willingly confronted yet another beast?
She recalled flying from Greenland to Romania, worry and determination turning thousands of miles into mere feet, so swiftly did she traverse the distance. Then she had seen the town, seen Superdoom and his toxic killing field.
He was larger than ever—a massive, poisonous threat to all around him.
Diana had flown faster, dreading the pending battle.
Smash.
Thud.
Roar.
Her surprise attack had sent Superdoom barreling into a mountain and away from the defenseless town he'd been about to destroy with his lethal vapors. His enraged roar was like a hard fist to Diana's face, her raised arms barely protecting her.
"Batman! We're on the edge here. How long?"
In his fury, Superdoom had emitted more of his killing mists. If Diana had anything other than divine blood coursing through her, she would be dead. For the first time in her life, she was grateful to be the daughter of Zeus, for no one else could do this, be here, face the beast, and the man within.
I'm working on it! Bruce said through their communicator. You have to slow him down! Buy me time.
Much easier said than done. But Diana knew Bruce was working as quickly as possible to clear the kryptonite from the air. But yes, she needed to give him time to accomplish that Herculean task. If he did so, Clark would have a fighting chance to regain control of his body.
Arms raised and crossed, one of the first defensive positions her mother had taught her, Diana kept her eyes on the snarling man before her. As much as she wanted to believe Clark was still somewhere inside Superdoom, there was no evidence to that fact she could readily discern.
No, all Diana saw was a nightmare come true. Resigned to their fate, Diana began to remove her bracers. She would give Batman as much time as she could.
"I wish this could have happened another way."
Superdoom's red eyes registered nothing, not even the slightest sign that he understood or even cared what this confrontation would do to Diana, how far she would take it if Bruce were too slow or failed.
Arms raised and claws extended toward Diana, Superdoom charged, jumping at Diana with ferocity and ruthless intent.
"To the end, then."
Diana glowed with demigod power. This was a side of her she rarely unleashed, at least not fully. But today, the same as when Superdoom had attacked Hessia, the healer down and vulnerable, Diana had no choice.
They engaged.
Diana caught Superdoom's arms, halting his downward slice into her body.
And, dammit, he was so strong, much stronger than he'd been when she'd used her lasso to contain him and pull him away from Earth and into outer space.
She didn't know how long she could hold him like this, her arms lifted high above her head, his powerful might bearing down on her much smaller frame.
"Clark!" she yelled, desperate to reach him. "I know you're still in there! You have to stop!"
Because if they kept going, it would end badly—for one or the both of them.
There was no response, no cessation of Superdoom's attack. Despite her words, Diana wasn't ready to admit defeat, ready to admit that all was lost. The world needed Superman, and she needed Clark. Yet now was the absolute worst time for Diana to be sentimental. At a time like this, Wonder Woman was required.
So when Superdoom broke free and slapped her, sending her careening away from him, Diana gritted her teeth and absorbed the pain. It was nothing more than she deserved for not engaging him in a true battle. Yes, Superdoom was inordinately strong, but Diana was a warrior born.
Diana, it's Cyborg. The tide seems to be turning. We've taken losses—Black Canary and Condor are down—but the nodes are down to 72 percent. I think we can do this.
That was good news. Black Canary, Condor, and the other heroes were at ground zero because of her. She'd given them their orders and they were following through, risking their lives to save so many more. Yet Diana, their general, hadn't done her part.
Diana flew after Superdoom, still not ready to concede defeat.
Halting in front of him, Diana lifted placating hands. She had to reach Clark. She just had to.
"Please, Clark, please listen to me. The other heroes—they're stopping the Brainiac fleet. You can leave again. Get up above the kryptonite."
She knew Clark had returned to Earth to help save the only planet he's ever called home and the people who had accepted and trusted an alien to protect them. His humanity was without question, as was his caring nature. But the Doom virus had tainted him, eroding away what made Clark Kent Clark and Superman a hero of heroes.
He just glared at her, his unfeeling, callous eyes clawing Diana from the inside out.
"You don't have to be a monster." She was crying. The truth she fought so hard against these past few days was there, along with the wetness that marked her soul as much as it did her cheek. "Don't do this to me. Don't be just another monster."
But he was. For if he weren't, if Clark, her Clark and the world's Superman was in control, Superdoom would not have turned away from her.
Yet he did, proving himself a monster, an unconscionable threat who only lived to destroy.
When he turned from her, Superdoom headed in the direction of the town. His toxins coalesced around him, a deadly aura promising death, doom.
She had to prevent this, couldn't allow more innocents to die.
"Stop, your death field— You can't go into that town." Diana was screaming, a frantic sound she barely recognized as her own voice. "You will kill everyone there!"
Nothing.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Dammit.
He ignored her, didn't even pause for a second. There was nothing left of the hero, of the man. Diana had failed Clark, failed herself. She thought she could help him, was sure if he left Earth he could learn how to control the beast within. But she was wrong, so very wrong. The beast had taken over, and Clark was no more.
He's already dead, she told herself as a hand that never trembled pulled her sword out and up.
Diana held it aloft, a double-hand grip that assured brutal accuracy.
"You made me promise!" she yelled at him, hating Clark for asking her to kill him when he'd first begun to change and hating herself for promising to do the unthinkable. But when she'd made that stupid promise, Diana had no idea it would actually come to this, that she would be forced to wield Hephaestus' sword against Superman, against Clark.
"You made me promise, Clark, if we ever got to this point, I'd do what I had to do!"
This sword, the one aimed at the monster that had claimed the best of them, could split an atom in two. There was a grim irony to this moment.
This is a reactor core. Full of U-235 atoms. Even though it's turned off . . . if we can split one . . . Atomic explosion. It'll shut the Phantom Zone gate, Clark had said, months ago when they were in yet another life or death situation.
Can we survive this? Diana had asked.
I don't know. Does it matter?
No. She had paused then, knowing if she had to die the cause was worthy and that there was no one she would rather have a warrior's death with than Superman. I can't see atoms. I couldn't . . .
I could guide you. We'd do it . . . together.
Clark had once asked her if they were better doing this work alone. She knew the truth then, even if he did not.
We could not do this apart. We are better . . . this way.
And they were. At least they had been.
I love you.
It was a confession that could've taken them into death—Clark's confession.
She loved him too, though she'd been too much of a coward to confess the same.
Diana wouldn't be a coward now. The least she could do was give Clark the warrior's death he deserved, no matter how much killing him would break her heart into inconsolable shards of lost love and Amazonian regret.
Gritting her teeth and firming her resolve, Diana swung her blade. "It's too late."
It was, so very late.
For Clark.
For her.
For them.
But it wasn't, because Bruce hadn't given up on Clark, on Diana, on himself. She didn't know how he'd managed it, but he'd cleared the atmosphere of the debilitating kryptonite, giving Clark a second chance at taking control of the monster within.
"It's all right, Diana. I'm back."
Diana had never been so grateful for demigod reflexes as she had been at that very moment. For it was the only thing that had prevented her from decapitating the man she loved.
Relief didn't begin to express her feeling at that moment, but when she returned to the Fortress of Solitude, seeing Clark as hale and handsome as ever, the rush of emotions overwhelmed her.
"Welcome back, hero."
Diana had kissed him. In front of Lois, Bruce, and all the others in the room. None of them had mattered, only Clark, only their reunion, only that moment in time.
Clark returned the kiss, wrapping his arms around her and pulling Diana flush against him. She held him just as tightly, just as closely, her arms snug around his neck, their bodies touching from their eager mouths to the tips of their boots.
And she'd nearly killed him, given up on him, as much as he'd seemed to have given up on himself. Making the kiss as much an apology to themselves and each other as it was a kiss of passion.
Now, dammit, well now Superman was off somewhere trying to save the world from Brainiac's mothership. Meaning he would go to any lengths to protect the people of Earth. Diana knew precisely what Superman intended to do, and there was no way she was going to allow him to sacrifice himself.
Diana. You heard Bruce. There's no time. We're out of choices, Clark had said to her through their comm link when he'd realized she wasn't about to allow him to take on the burden of saving Earth alone.
"I know, Clark. We do what we have to do." We are better together—then and now. I haven't forgotten. "I'll see you soon."
No. Promise me. There's no coming back from this. Don't come after me. You've saved me so many times. Let me return the favor. Let me save them. Let me save you.
This was the part of Clark that most called to Diana—to the woman and the Amazon. He was self-sacrificing, loving, and brave.
And she would not allow him to do this by himself.
"Race you."
It would be a race, not between Diana and Clark but between Superman and Wonder Woman and the villain Brainiac.
So she'd traveled into the forbidden and barren Phantom Zone and had just thundered for Mongul.
He would come, of that she had no doubt.
When he did, Mongul emerged from the shadows like the contemptible predator he was.
"Little girl. You called for me, here I am. Much good may it do you."
Mongul was a cruel, huge beast who belonged exactly where he was. So she wasn't surprised when he said to the man who thought he was sneaking up on Diana, "End her."
"With pleasure, Mongul. I haven't killed a woman in a long time."
The fool leapt at Diana, arms above his head, mouth in a sneer.
She almost pitied the man. Instead, Diana did what she was trained to do. She put the rabid dog down with a simple defensive then offensive maneuver, using her lasso to corral him then slam the brute to the ground, knocking him out.
"I am in no mood, Mongul. I'm not here to fight. I'm here to deal."
"Deal? For what?"
She turned and pointed to the planet-sized weapon of mass destruction in the sky.
"That. Warworld."
We could not do this apart. We are better . . . this way.
Yes, they were.
Doom will come to his fateful end.
Brainiac wouldn't win.
And Diana and Clark?
Well, only the future knew what awaited them.