A/N: Yeah…just warning you now…you're going to hate me by the time you reach the bottom…

Chapter Sixteen – Magic Always Has A Price

Two weeks later

It had been easier than Bruce thought it would be. The only thing that had changed now was the fact that his nightmares had altered slightly. Now, Joe Chill stepped from shadows, and gunned down his parents. Then Diana smashed her fist through his skull, and Bruce woke up with his hand stretched out to stop her. If it really had been Chill she'd killed, he doubted he'd have been as horrified. But it was the fact that her killing was a possibility all too real now. And then she'd be beyond redemption.

And he had to find some way to redeem her. He had to.

Not that that was proving easy. During the day he had no choice but to do what he'd always done, with the exception of the half an hour he'd always allowed himself each day for meditation. Fifteen minutes in the morning, and fifteen minutes before he went out on patrol. It was the same routine he'd used every single day for twenty years. And it had never failed him. Until now.

Now, when he tried to empty his mind and calm himself, all that happened was Diana's beloved, blank face came to the front of his brain, lodging there as long as his eyes were closed, and refusing to leave. He'd stopped meditating after six days of this. As a result, anger and frustration were building up to dangerous levels. If he let this carry on then he'd end up letting his guard down and getting injured, or worse, killing someone. It needed to stop. It should be easy. It wasn't.

He'd gone past denial now; he missed Diana. He missed her smile, he missed her hair, he missed her voice – oh God how he missed her voice. He missed the possibility of Diana. For a moment, he'd seen a golden future of waking up in the morning to her face, of coming home after watching over his city to find rest in Diana's arms. They could have been so much.

Thankfully, the League hadn't needed him on any missions yet, so he hadn't been forced to acknowledge that that future was gone utterly. He could still pretend. Even if it wasn't fooling anyone, least of all himself. Still, he was beginning to believe the old adage that said love was the most powerful force of all. His brain knew that the playboy needed to carry on as he always had. His heart wouldn't let him. Bruce Wayne hadn't been to any parties, opening galas or charity balls in a fortnight. All those things meant getting a date, being close to a woman and dancing. All of those things now meant Diana. They always would mean Diana. And if she really was dead, if his Diana was never coming back – then it would be an utter betrayal of her.

But even Bruce didn't realise how bad it had gotten until sixteen days after the curse had been broken. The Joker was planning a bank robbery – even psychotic clowns needed funding somehow. Batman contacted Nightwing for backup, and the two of them set out from the Cave almost as soon as it got dark. The Joker could hit any one of half a dozen banks, and Batman wasn't a hundred percent sure which one it was going to be – but it was an easy enough job to follow Harley, since he knew that she'd always go wherever the Joker was.

It was simple enough to take down the guards and lackeys that the Joker had placed around the bank. As the last one hit the floor with a muffled thud – taken down by Dick – Batman motioned silently to him. The message was clear: get the police, I'll take down the Joker.

Dick nodded and left like a shadow. Batman moved forward. The Joker did not look happy to see him. "Oh Batsey, you're no fun. Can't you just let me have this one little bank? Even I have to eat, you know."

"Food's free in prison."

The Joker pulled out a gun; Batman snatched it out of his hand, threw it over his shoulder and punched the clown. He flew back about six feet.

"Mistah J!"

Harley was at his side in less than a second, helping him up. The Joker only looked irritated. "Oh go away, you stupid woman."

Even Harley looked a little upset at that. Sure, she was as crazy was the Joker, but also definitely not stupid. "Hey," she started, hands on her hips. "You could be a little nicer, you kno-"

She cut off as the Joker casually backhanded her.

Bruce lost it.

No matter what else she might be, Harley Quinn loved the Joker. And he treated her like that?

By the time Nightwing and the police got there – less than a minute later – the Joker was unconscious, and in the process of having most of his teeth forcibly removed by Batman's fist. Harley was cowered in a corner, her lip split and looking utterly terrified.

Dick's mouth fell open. Thinking fast, he grabbed Bruce and hustled him away from the Joker before the police could enter and see Batman trying to kill the clown. Deciding it wasn't as if the Joker would be running away anywhere, Dick dragged his adoptive father out of the building and then pointed his grappling hook at the nearest skyscraper. Bruce seemed to have gone limp with rage, and wasn't struggling. Neither was he cooperating, though.

Now on the roof of the fifty-seven floor tower, Dick let go of Bruce. "What the hell is the matter with you?" he demanded.

"Nothing," Batman growled.

"Nothing?" his son repeated incredulously. "Nothing?! You almost killed the Joker. I wouldn't call that nothing!"

"Forget it."

"No," Dick said flatly. "If something's going on with you, you need to let me know. You're no good to Gotham like this."

"I'm fine. And leaving."

Dick grabbed his wrist before he could fire his grapple gun. "Batman." They were out in the open, so it had to be Batman, but they both heard what he really meant. Bruce. Dad. Don't shut me out. Let me help.

Bruce thought of Diana's words. It isn't weakness to accept comfort from a friend. "Thanks for your help. You can go back to Bludhaven whenever you like," he said dully.

Leaving an extremely frustrated Nightwing on the roof, Batman disappeared into the shadows, heading home. Despite brushing him off, Dick had a point. Cardinal rule – you did not ever lose your temper. And Bruce couldn't even see his. Heading back to the Cave, he still wasn't calming down, instead driving at reckless speeds through the streets of Gotham, slamming the brakes on at the last possible moment once approaching the Cave.

Out of the car, he sat at the computers and silently thanked his lucky stars that the Joker had turned the security cameras off in the bank. He really did not need images of Batman brutally beating the Joker splashed across every news station in America. For a few minutes more, Bruce silently questioned what the hell he was doing. It was getting too much now. God, Dick's right. I am no good like this.

It wasn't possible. There wasn't one single rational explanation why one woman should be the cause of this – or one emotion. The most stupid thing was that he knew if he could just have Diana, if he could just hold her or kiss her…all of it would go away. He'd be able to sleep. He'd be able to think. He might actually want to eat.

How had this happened? How could he go, in the space of one minute, from not needing anyone to being utterly dependent on her?

At a sudden flare of light, Bruce looked up, frowning.

The frown turned into a glare. Hera, Queen of the gods herself, was standing in the middle of the Cave.

---

Shayera had been spending a lot of time with Zatanna lately. The two women had never been close, and in fact had barely spoken two words to each other bar a quick 'hello' every now and then. But since Shayera's best friend had overnight become the most terrifying thing she'd ever come across, the Thanagarian had found herself becoming increasingly friendly with the witch.

Even having Diana hate her after the invasion she hadn't been scared. She was Hawkgirl; she didn't get scared. She got angry, and she got violent, but she didn't get scared. Until she looked into Diana's eyes and saw nothing. Like a mirror – all Shayera saw was her own thoughts reflecting back. No inkling as to what Diana was thinking. It was like seeing a living, breathing corpse looking at her. Diana's skin was warm to the touch, she was just as beautiful as she'd ever been – but it was the beauty of death now. There was nothing radiant about her. Just inexorable. Just destructive. Just inevitable. Not something you wanted to get too close too.

And curse the hormones, but Shayera missed her. She missed her so much – there was no one to moan about how irritating Wally was occasionally, no one to gossip about wedding plans with, no one to bounce baby-name ideas off. The idea of asking Wonder Woman (she wasn't Diana anymore) to be her maid of honour or godmother to her children was repulsive. She'd sooner take on Luthor, Grodd, Braniac and Darkseid on alone. As well as the Injustice Gang.

She'd originally gone to Zatanna to ask if there was anything that could be done to help Wonder Woman. Zatanna had promised to look into it, and since then they'd been meeting for coffee and had discovered that Diana had, in fact, been their common link. Zatanna hated Wonder Woman as much as Shayera did.

"I honestly can't think of anywhere else to check," Zatanna moaned over lunch one day. "There's nothing about removal of emotions in any book I've found, and no one on the mystic Ethernet has anything. Not even my usual magic supplier – though he did try and convince me that a Manticore tooth would help." She sighed and gave the redhead next to her a sad smile.

The cafeteria doors opened again, and Wonder Woman came in, took a tray and sat alone, eating calmly.

"I just…I don't think I can stand it," Shayera said. "It's as though there's some other woman in her body. Not even Superman looks her in the eyes anymore."

"I was thinking…maybe J'onn could help? Like look into her mind and see if there's anything. It's possible that she's just suppressing-"

"No," Shayera interrupted. "He told me he'd tried that already. Said it was like looking into the mind of a robot. Just…thoughts, in perfectly logical patterns. There's nothing, Zatanna." Wiping angrily at the tears that filled her eyes, Shayera glared at Wonder Woman. She happened to look up and gaze back for a few moments. Nothing. Not even anger that she was being stared at.

Standing up, Zatanna pushed her chair under. "I have to go. Monitor duty."

Shayera followed suit. "Yeah, I'll go too-" She cut off with a cry, pain stabbing through her abdomen. She doubled over, barely hearing Zatanna call her name in alarm. Just before she passed out, Shayera felt warm liquid seeping from between her legs. She looked down, saw the blood, then everything went black.

---

Slowly, Bruce stood up and waited, his gaze demanding that she explain herself.

"I mean you no harm," she said.

Bruce repressed the urge to snort. The way he was feeling at the moment, she was in far more danger from him. "What do you want?"

"First, to apologise. What Skatha did to Diana is unacceptable. I am sorry."

He did snort then, bitterly. "You're sorry? That makes everything better than, doesn't it? You're sorry?!"

Hera watched him calmly for a moment more. "You love her."

"Have you seen her? There's nothing to love," he spat.

"I have come to offer my help," she said. "It is possible that I can undo what Skatha did."

"How?" he asked swiftly. As he spoke, though, he realised there was a bigger question. "If you can help her, why come to me?"

"Because it is Diana's soul that is gone. If I am to restore it, I need a focus point. And all Diana's emotions – before they were taken – focused on you."

"You still haven't answered my question," he said bluntly.

Hera had the good grace to look as ashamed of herself as a goddess could. "No. There is the matter of cost."

"Magic always has a price."

"Indeed. And recreating a soul…the cost will be great."

"Whatever it is, I'll pay it," he said immediately.

"Were it your soul I was creating, yes, you would," she agreed. "But it is not, and Diana is the one who must pay it. But you are the one who must decide."

His fists clenched, foreboding inching up his spine. He knew whatever she said next he was not going to like. "What's the price?" he asked, eyes closed.

There was a brief pause before Hera answered, which gave every muscle in Bruce's body a chance to tense painfully. The words, when they came, made him flinch.

"Her immortality."

---

A/N: I feel so mean! I'm sorry! I'm so so sorry, but this is the direction my muse led me! Review please! *sobs*