Hide (DCAU)

Clark Kent straightened his tie before his glasses as he entered the five-star restaurant, determination alight in his blue eyes. It wasn't typically in his nature to do something quite like this, but desperate times called for desperate measures and it was the direst that things had ever been.

He attempted to swallow back the emotions that had suddenly lodged in his throat as he scanned the restaurant, sticking fast and refusing to budge. It was almost painful but it was heavily outweighed by the fierce ache that had settled in his chest well over a week ago.

His gaze fell on the object of his search sitting in a booth with his arm around a blonde who appeared on the verge of spilling out of her tight red dress that revealed a very ample bosom. He stalked straight towards the couple; his ire prickling as Bruce nibbled on his date's ear.

His fingers reflexively curled into his palms, his nostrils flaring as he approached. He did his best to remind himself that he wasn't Superman at this moment. He was Clark Kent. He repeated that over and over in his head to keep from pummeling the man in the expensive navy-blue suit.

"Bruce, we need to talk," Clark stated without preamble as he came to stand at the end of the couple's booth, interrupting their romantic moment.

Bruce casually whispered something into his date's ear before slowly turning to look at his friend. "Kent!" he exclaimed. "Haven't seen you around in a while. How have things been?"

Clark gritted his teeth as he struggled against the urge to grab Bruce by the front of his suit and drag him out of the booth. He knew damn well how things had been. "You haven't been returning my calls," he stated with a definite edge to his voice. "It's very important that I speak with you in private."

"I'm sorry," Bruce casually replied with a lecherous grin, his arm still slung around the shoulders of his date. "As you can see, I've been…busy."

Bruce turned to his date, kissing her before reaching for his glass of alcohol. He took a long drink before setting the empty glass down, snapping his fingers for the waiter to bring him more. It was obvious to Clark that he had been drinking which was very abnormal for the man who demanded to always be in full control of himself. It spoke volumes.

"Can I talk to you in private?" Kent bit out, doing his best to keep his cool which was rapidly fading at an alarming rate especially for the man who was known for his copious amounts of patience.

Bruce flashed him a lazy grin, one that was part playboy and part alcohol. "Anything you have to say to me you can say in front of Carol," he told him.

"Carla," his date corrected him with a frown.

"Carla," Bruce repeated, turning a leering look on his date that fully settled on her breasts before finally meeting her eyes. "Sorry, dear, but you're just so gorgeous it's hard to think straight when I'm around you."

Carla giggled, clearly appeased by his flirtatious charm. "It's okay, Brucie."

Clark winced with the woman's high-pitched laughter, grimacing with the way she called him Brucie. He was really scraping the bottom of the barrel on this one. "I need to speak with you now, Bruce," he stated in no uncertain terms.

Bruce stared at him for a long moment, the lazy smile on his face incongruent with the piercing glare that Clark was receiving. "I don't believe there's anything to talk about," he countered. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to get back to my date."

Refusing to take no for an answer, Clark leaned forward, placing the palms of his hands on top of the table. "I believe there is, and you know it," he hissed with deadly intent. "Now, you can either do this the easy way or the hard way."

Bruce drew a deep breath, releasing it slowly through his nose as he studied his friend. It was obvious that Clark wasn't going to leave until they'd talked. While he knew that Clark wouldn't do anything to jeopardize either of their secret identities, he knew that he couldn't risk it especially with the emotional state the Kryptonian was in.

"Fine," Bruce finally relented after weighing his options, taking the cloth napkin from his lap and tossing it on top of the table. "If you'll please excuse me, Carla. This won't take long. I'll be back in a minute."

He leaned in and kissed her hard, stealing her breath before scooting out of the booth to follow Clark outside of the restaurant and around the corner to an alley. He came to a stop in the dimly lit backstreet, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his dress pants.

Clark turned around to find him glowering at him, the expression on his friend's face one that caused an icy shiver of dread to race up his spine. He'd rarely seen a look like that on another human being's face and he hoped to never see it again. It was terrifying and chilling to the bone.

"What do you want?" Bruce growled.

"You know what I want, Bruce," he responded with a calmness that he didn't feel, but he knew that he needed to handle this situation and Bruce with kid-gloves. It was like holding an explosive that could detonate if he even breathed wrong.

"I thought I made it perfectly clear a week ago," Bruce stated, the muscles in his jaw beginning to twitch with how tightly drawn they were.

"Quitting the League to hide in your cave is not the answer and you know it," Clark shot back.

"Do I look like I'm hiding?" Bruce demanded to know, a razor-sharp edge to his voice that easily sliced through the thick tension that blanketed the alley.

"You walked away from her," Clark angrily reminded him. "You walked away from the League…your friends. Bruce, you have to—"

"I don't have to do a damn thing," he hissed. "You don't need me and neither does she. I'll continue to fund the League, but I resigned my part-time membership."

"So, that's it?" Clark questioned him, his heart beginning to hammer in his chest as memories flooded his mind of the horrifying events that he'd sooner forget. "She needs you, Bruce."

Bruce's entire stance grew rigid, his appearance like stone except for the flicker of pure anguish that flashed in his eyes. "She doesn't need me…she doesn't need any of us now."

Clark averted his eyes, unable to look at his friend as the knot in his throat expanded, making it difficult to breathe. "Don't say that," he ground out in a dangerous voice that Bruce had rarely heard. "You're not giving her a chance."

"She's as good as gone, Clark," he callously spat out with a raw fury that burned through the alley like a flamethrower. "It's time to let her go and move on."

"Is that what you're doing by quitting the League, refusing to take any of our calls…dating bimbos and getting drunk," Clark retorted. "That doesn't look like moving on, Bruce. It looks like someone who isn't coping."

"You have no right to judge me," Bruce icily stated, his chest beginning to heave with the blinding rage that he'd kept bottled up inside for the last eight days.

"I get it, Bruce…I really do," Clark replied, his voice taking on a gentler tone, his eyes softening. "Dealing with this as brought up a lot of bad memories for you but running away from her isn't making it better for either of you."

Bruce was in Clark's face in less than a heartbeat, moving with an almost immortal speed and carried on the tidal wave of fury that had been teeming inside of him for so long now. "Don't pretend that you know what I'm going through because you don't," he seethed. "Just leave it alone, Clark…leave me alone."

Bruce turned on his heel, Clark's voice reaching his ears as he began to walk away. "J'onn doesn't know how much longer she'll last," he softly said, just loud enough for Bruce to hear him. "She's been on life support for the last four days. Decisions needs to be made, Bruce. We need you there."

He stopped dead in his tracks, his hands balling into fists at his sides. He stayed that way for several long moments, his chin finally falling to his chest. "I don't need to be there, Clark," he replied, his voice choked with emotion that he'd kept locked away for over a week.

"There's still a chance, Bruce," Clark revealed.

The billionaire playboy's head turned to his left, but he still didn't turn around. "You just said she's on life support. You all know she never would've wanted that and yet you're doing it. You're prolonging a life that is no longer there."

"J'onn probed her mind today," he informed him. "He feels there's still some minimal brain activity despite what the scans have showed."

He stood there for a long time, making Clark wonder if he was ever going to move or respond. He looked like a frightened rabbit, skittish and ready to bolt if you closed your eyes too long. "I can't, Clark. Don't ask me to."

"It's not about you, Bruce," he told him. "This is about her and what she needs."

Bruce finally turned around to face him. There was such fierce emotion swarming in his eyes that it caused Clark's breath to catch in his throat. "It has always been about her," he rasped with such conviction that there was no question about his devotion to her. "That's why I can't be there."

"I know you have feelings for her, but you can't leave her laying in that hospital bed in the infirmary without letting her know that you're there or how you feel about her," he reminded her. "We've been taking turns sitting with her…talking to her and begging her to fight. She's heard all of our voices except for yours, Bruce. She needs to hear your voice. She hasn't heard it all since the mission. It might make all the difference in the world. It might give her a reason to come back to us."

"You don't understand," Bruce bit out. "I can't do it. It was hard enough seeing her in that bed after the surgery, but then J'onn told us that she would likely never recover. Something died…in here."

Clark watched as Bruce poked his chest over his heart but didn't say anything in response. This was the most that he'd ever been able to get Bruce to talk. He wasn't going to stop him or interrupt him now. Bruce hadn't spoken to any of them since the moment Diana had been moved into that bed in the infirmary after emergency surgery.

J'onn had given his prognosis to the Founders, Batman completely shutting down from that moment on. He'd walked over to the side of her bed, watching her for a few moments before turning and walking out. He never returned to the Watchtower after that, his resignation coming through in an email the next day.

"I love her like I've never loved another," Bruce found himself confessing, slowly shaking his head. "I…I can't watch her waste away to nothing, losing her like I lost my parents…like I lost Jason. I won't go through that again…not with her…not with Diana."

Clark closed the distance between them, his hand coming to rest on his friend's shoulder. "If she dies, you will still be going through it whether you're there with her or not, Bruce," he told him. "Avoiding her won't stop the grief but being there for her…telling her how you feel…just might help you cope. It might help her, give her the strength and a reason to fight again."

Bruce turned his head to look to his right, unable to look Clark in the eye. He knew in his mind that he was right, but he couldn't reconcile it with what was left of his breaking heart. "Fine," he murmured. "I'll come see her, but I'm not promising anything more."

"That's all I ask," he reassured him.

Bruce blew out a breath as he rolled his eyes. "Yah, right," he growled. "I'm sure I'll find papers to rescind my resignation sitting at Diana's bedside."

Clark smiled for the first time in more than a few days. "They've been there since Wednesday waiting for you," he teased.

"Don't push it, boy scout," Bruce growled as he turned on his heel, heading towards his car.

"Hey, what about your date?" Clark called after him.

"I'll call her a taxi," he said over his shoulder. "She was too annoying anyway…and she's not Diana."

Clark smiled to himself as he tucked his glasses into his suit jacket pocket, relieved tonight had gone as well as it had. He'd anticipated a full-fledged fight before all was said and done, but Bruce had thankfully come to his senses and made the right decision.

He just prayed she survived this because he knew if she didn't Bruce wouldn't either.

XXX

The doors to the infirmary swooshed open, Batman entering with his black cape billowing behind him. He appeared completely in control and emotionless as he stalked towards the back of the infirmary to the special quarters designated for the Founders, no one aware of how hard his heart was actually pounding at that moment.

Stopping before the door, he entered the special code that allowed him entrance. The door silently slid open to reveal Diana lying so very still in a hospital bed just the same as when he had last seen her nine days ago. A nurse was changing an IV bag before checking the countless monitors that she was hooked up to, her expression somber.

The sound of the machine breathing life into her body sent an icy chill through him that seemed to cut to the very marrow of his bones. He stood there for several minutes just watching her from the door, his leg refusing to cooperate or obey his commands.

Finally, Batman's legs seemed to remember how to work, forcing him towards her one step at a time until he found himself standing beside her bed. He released a shaky breath as he unconsciously sank into the chair positioned at her bedside, his legs feeling boneless and giving out on him.

The nurse quickly finished her tasks before leaving the room as if knowing this was too personal for prying eyes to bear witness to. As soon as she left, Batman entered a code on his gauntlet that locked down the room and shut off the security cameras, allowing him the privacy he needed.

With trembling hands, he removed his cowl and gauntlets, tossing them onto the bed beside her. Seeing her like this, being near her and witnessing firsthand just how truly broken she was…it was unbearable. Somehow, though, she still managed to take his breath away.

Panic seized his heart as anguish flooded his chest to the point that he thought it might actually burst. She looked like an empty shell of the woman that she once was, so fragile as if she could shatter if he even touched her.

Doubts and fears assailed him like unseen fists to his conscious mind, threatening to make him run away and hide from the world. He shouldn't be here. He wasn't any good at this. She needed far more than him, more than what he could possibly give her. He knew he would give her the world, but she needed more than that right now.

Batman suddenly stood to his feet, prepared to leave. This was crazy. There was no way that hearing his voice or feeling his touch would ever make a difference. They had lost her that day…he had lost her that day on that damned mission that she wasn't even supposed to be on, but she had decided to tag along to help him out at the last minute.

He stared at her face as his heart and mind wrestled. Dark shadows had taken up residence beneath her eyes, her cheekbones more pronounced with the weight she had lost. Bruises and gashes still lingered, hinting at the extent of the brutal injuries she had received that day that she had saved the world like the fearless heroine that she always was.

And he loved her. He would always love her.

He sat down in the chair once more, reminding himself that this was about her not him. He tentatively reached for her, his large hand engulfing her smaller one. He clasped it firmly, silently pleading with her to respond to him, but receiving none. He needed her to be all right again.

Diana was his beacon…his hope and his faith when he had none and right now, he had absolutely nothing…nothing but this moment with her. He wanted so much more. He wanted to go back in time to all those foolish, selfish moments that he had so callously brushed her off or pushed her away. He wanted to seize hold of her, tell her what a fool he'd been and how much he loved her.

He swallowed hard, finding his throat drier than the Sahara, his tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth. He cleared his throat as he attempted to order his thoughts. He may have failed her all those times in the past, but he'd be damned if he failed her now.

Steeling himself, Bruce leaned in close to her, squeezing her hand. "Diana…it…it's me," he began, his voice the dangerous rasp of the Batman. He cleared his throat again, cursing under his breath. He tried again, gentling his tone. "It's Bruce. I'm here, princess. Please, let me know that you can hear me."

Nothing but the continual beeping of the heart monitor and the steady pulse of the life support machine was heard. Coupled with the steady drip, drip of the IV fluids, it created an eerie chorus that he wanted to abolish with every fiber of his being.

Her fingers remained straight and unmoving in his grasp, her skin cool to the touch. She should open her eyes, sit up in this bed and threaten to pummel him for being so worried about her. She should be talking to him with that fiery spirit of hers that seemed to shine through every single part of her, illuminating her eyes like blue diamonds that always sparkled so brightly.

She shouldn't be like this…not ever like this. It should've been him, but she had shoved him aside, taking the full brunt of the attack with a courage that never ceased to amaze him.

"I have to apologize," he began again. "I should have been here with you the moment you got out of emergency surgery. I should've been by your side every single moment since then instead of running away and hiding like some coward."

The words seem to come a little easier now as he held her hand, the fingers of his other hand brushing the hair from her forehead. He continued his gentle ministrations, stroking her raven locks as he spoke to her. "I'm so sorry, princess," he told her, his voice cracking with emotion. "I was terrified. When I saw you like this…when J'onn told us you wouldn't survive, I shut down. I felt my heart break for the second time in my life. That hasn't happened since I was eight years old.

"It's all because I love you, Diana," he confessed as tears began to brim in his eyes for the first time in over twenty-five years. "I should have said it a long time ago, but I was afraid that you would distract me from mission. I was scared to let you in, but you managed to find your way into my heart anyway without even trying."

Bruce could feel the tears beginning to trickle down his cheeks as he pressed his lips to her temple. "Please, princess, come back to me," he choked out. "I know I don't deserve you or for you to give me a chance, but I promise you that I'll give you everything that I have. You already have my heart, Diana. I just pray I'm not too late to give you the rest of me."

His forehead came to rest against her temple, his tears escaping and dampening the pillow beneath her head. He found himself pleading with her gods and goddesses, begging them to save her or to allow him to take her place.

"I love you, Diana…more than I have ever loved another," he told her, caressing her cheek. "Please come back to me and let me show you just how much."

Bruce didn't know what else to say in that moment, exhaustion from lack of sleep the last week and a half beginning to overwhelm him. He continued to hold her hand, stroking her hair when the heart monitor began to beep a little faster. He quickly sat up, his gaze falling on the monitor. Fear clawed at his throat, terrified that he was losing her.

That was when he felt it.

Diana moved her fingers in his hand. He told himself that he was just imagining it as he sat back, glancing down at her hand resting in his. That's when he noticed her fingers slowly curling around his hand. "Diana? Can you hear me?"

Her heart rate began to settle into a steady rhythm once more as she returned his embrace, her fingers still wrapped around his hand. Bruce couldn't contain his relief as he leaned in and kissed her forehead. "That's it, princess," he told her. "Fight for your life…fight to come back to me…fight for us."

He watched her for several long moments, waiting for her to open her eyes. She didn't show any more response after that, but this was more than enough for Bruce. She was going to be all right. She was going to survive this and come back to him.

"Just rest now, princess," he gently said, stroking the side of her face. "Just know that I'm not going anywhere. I love you and I'll be here waiting for you when you finally wake up."

Bruce settled back in his chair; her hand still clutched firmly in his. He was ready to wait for as long as it took, his princess restoring his hope once more and giving him a reason not to hide.

A/N: This one-shot actually came to me in a dream and I had to write it! In all my fics, Bruce or Diana stay at each other's bedside when they're injured. I couldn't help wondering how it would be if Bruce couldn't deal with it and ran away. Hope you enjoyed a change of pace!

I have not given up on the Suspicious Minds Series or the Wayne Family Chronicles. Real life has been crazy, but I hope to post updates at some point this month. In the meantime, I hope you're enjoying Family Reunion. Lots of surprises are in store for that one. :)