A/N: Another short chapter, but again it was the right place to end it. Hope you enjoy!

Chapter Fifteen – Numb

It was an odd sensation, feeling your heart break. It had been so long since it had happened, that Bruce had forgotten what it felt like. For decades, his heart hadn't been whole in order for it to break. And it had been whole for thirty, glorious seconds – and then it had broken all over again. It wasn't the emotional pain that surprised him; he was no stranger to that, but it was the physical pain that was startling. Literally like having his ribcage smashed open and his cardiac muscle crushed. By Diana's hand.

Reaching the top of those stairs had officially been the second worst experience of Bruce's entire life. Worse, even, than losing Jason – because Diana was lost, and she wasn't. He didn't even need her to say anything to know that what he'd done had destroyed her far more effectively than Skatha's curse had managed.

When the screaming had stopped, Bruce hadn't paused, instead leaving the chamber and climbing as quickly as humanly possible without a second glance to the two goddesses. He barely registered Hera's strangled sounds of rage. He didn't, couldn't, miss her telling Skatha that she'd be confined to the pits of Tartarus for all eternity.

"You will pay for this, Skatha!"

The smug grin was evident in the voice of the other goddess. "Not as much as the mortal will."

That made him speed up. Heart pounding not from the quick ascent, Bruce got to the top of the stairs and saw what he was dreading.

Diana was standing upright, tall and straight. She had one hand over the wounds on her chest, examining them with no apparent concern. At the sound of his footsteps, she looked up. Her face was utterly emotionless, blue eyes dead. "It's over," she said, voice smooth and mechanical.

That was it, right there. Those two words just about summed everything up.

He managed a nod, but knew he couldn't speak.

"Praise be to Hera," Hippolyta whispered. She made to embrace her daughter, but a voice spoke from outside before the queen could notice that Diana wasn't hugging back. "My queen!"

Hippolyta actually gave a grateful smile to Batman, which he couldn't return, before leaving the building. There were two Amazons on horseback waiting outside, with another horse between them. "My queen, another ship has arrived on the island. It is the Justice League – and there are four men with them. We have them surrounded, but-"

"They are no threat," Diana interrupted. "They have only come to ascertain my welfare."

The Amazon looked at Hippolyta in askance. The queen nodded and walked to her horse, mounting easily. "Then come. We will tell them together you are well."

The three horses wheeled and began galloping toward the other side of the island. Diana lifted slightly into the air, but then realised that Batman wasn't following. "Aren't you coming?" she asked in a manner that did not indicate she cared.

Bruce heard himself answer like he was listening from outside a room. "No. I'll return the Javelin to the Watchtower."

She gave no response, but flew after her mother in a perfectly straight line, not looking anywhere except straight ahead. Bruce watched her for as long as he could bear – which was about five seconds. Climbing into the Javelin, he fired up the engines and took off. He didn't remember blinking or breathing all the way up into the stratosphere, or entering the access codes for the Watchtower, or getting out of the jet. In fact, it wasn't until he materialised in the Cave that he even registered – again with numb surprise – he'd moved at all. Then he stopped.

Sat down on the Cave floor.

Removed his cowl.

Buried his face in his hands.

Diana.

How- How-

No. It didn't matter how. It didn't matter why. It just was. It would be a simple shift, surely, from pretending twenty hours a day to pretending twenty four. He'd just…rebuild those walls that had fallen at the moment of falling in love with Diana. Not difficult. Not painful. Not crippling.

When Alfred's feet in their too-highly polished black shoes stopped in front of him, Bruce didn't even bother raising his head. Alfred, bless him, did not ask what had happened, and only hauled Bruce to his feet with a strength that was surprising for a man his age. Once he'd sat him down in his chair, Alfred pressed a glass of scotch into his hand. "Drink."

Bruce tossed it back, the burn of the alcohol making his throat sting. "Curse is broken," he managed.

"You do not seem to be happy about it, sir."

He was silent for a moment, then spoke, keeping the emotion out. "I screwed up, Alfred."

"How so, Master Bruce?"

"Diana, she's…" What was the right word? Cold? Emotionless? "Numb," he said. "The empathy was removed, but as a consequence she doesn't feel anything. She doesn't…" He swallowed hard, forcing the sob back before it could develop. Love me. The ultimate irony. He'd pushed her away, he'd refused to acknowledge her feelings and his, he'd consistently ignored the possibility that they could be more…and his reward had been the woman he loved basically dying. A Diana with no emotion…was just a machine. A beautiful, pitiless, flawless machine – perfectly built for killing.

Suddenly a rogue Superman didn't seem like such a problem. Diana wouldn't kill for now, because she knew she shouldn't – but now she had no compassion, no mercy, no guilt to stop her. If she deemed it the best course of action to protect the greater good…

Alfred was silent for a long time before he finally spoke – not for the first time, Bruce wondered numbly what was going on in his surrogate father's head. He couldn't bring himself to look up though, to see the condemnation in the Englishman's eyes. Or compassion. That would be infinitely worse.

"There is nothing to be done?" Alfred asked finally.

Bruce shook his head. "I've…" Despite his best efforts, his voice carried the grief he'd been suppressing for the last thirty years, forced to the fore by the loss of Diana. He didn't allow the moisture suddenly gathering in his eyes to fall. "I've killed her."

---

It was odd.

Diana knew she shouldn't have flown away from Bruce, knew that he loved her – but for the life of her – she didn't understand why she didn't care. Nor did she feel the urge to let her curiosity run. The memory of falling in love with him…was like watching a movie. She saw it all happen, knew it had happened to her and at the time it had seemed like the most important thing in the world – now it wasn't. Now it meant nothing. He meant nothing.

Nor did seeing her friends. It should mean something that they all came to Themyscira to see that she was alright now. But as Flash engulfed her in a hug, and Shayera and Superman right after him, she couldn't hug back. She just stood there, arms by her sides waiting patiently until they stopped. Flash, being Flash, didn't really notice, just too busy beaming and babbling away about how happy he was she was alright.

It wasn't until Superman hugged her that any of them realised things weren't the way they were supposed to be. "Are you alright?" he asked, drawing back a little.

"I'm fine," she answered automatically.

"Is the empathy gone?" he said, frowning at her. She didn't look like Diana. She didn't stand like Diana. And where was Bruce? What the hell had happened?

"It's gone," she said. "Batman broke the curse."

"Where is he?" Shayera asked.

"He took the Javelin back to the Watchtower," she replied.

"We should also return J'onn said.

"Alright," she agreed.

It wasn't until Shayera put a hand on Diana's shoulder to stop her that she even remembered to say goodbye to her mother. Diana turned, bowed to her queen, and walked up the ramp onto the Javelin. The other five heroes looked at each other, stunned. One by one, they followed her onto the ship. Sat in the pilot seat, Diana could see Hawkgirl staying behind to exchange a few words with Hippolyta. She looked upset.

Diana powered up the engines.

Outiside, Shayera noted the brief flash of anguish that crossed Hippolyta's face. "What the hell happened?" she wondered out loud.

"At least she is no longer in pain," the queen said, in a voice honed for thousands of years not to show emotion. She couldn't stop it from wavering a little.

"We'll take care of your daughter," Shayera promised.

Finally Hippolyta tore her eyes away from Diana's blank expression. "If that is my daughter," she said.

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A/N: Good? Bad? On the count of three – everyone give Bruce a hug! And don't worry – this is NOT the end. More to come, I promise!