A/N: I need your help with the next chapter – do you want to see Apollo's prophecies or not? To be honest I wasn't going to, but if people want to see them then I will happily write them in. I'm gonna need least 6 people to say yes though!
Happy reading!
Chapter Eighteen – Unwinnable Arguments
Clark was barely in the air when J'onn's voice called him over his League communicator – something about stopping a terrorist attack on Edinburgh. There was some kind of incredibly complicated explosive that the Bomb Disposal Squad didn't have time to disarm, so Superman dutifully showed up, picked up the bomb (carefully), and deposited in an ocean trench in the Atlantic. Then was told that there was a hurricane about to hit Haiti, and that he was needed there, along with Flash and Captain Atom. Then it was an earthquake in Japan, and then another bush fire in Australia. By the time he was beamed to the Watchtower, Clark was sooty and dirty and tired. And still hadn't managed to get to Gotham.
J'onn was waiting to debrief them. After they'd finished, Superman motioned with his head to the Martian. It was possible he was overreacting, and he wanted a second opinion. They ended up in the cafeteria, J'onn as usual eating his Oreos and Clark with a black coffee.
"What is on your mind?" his friend asked.
"I don't suppose you've seen the evening edition of the Planet?" he asked.
"No, I'm afraid not."
Clark looked around; the cafeteria was almost deserted, and if he kept his voice down then no one would be able to hear them. "Bruce Wayne hasn't been seen in public for about three weeks," he said in a low tone. "And it's not like Batman to let something like that slip."
"True," the Martian agreed, munching. "Do you think something has happened in Gotham that we are unaware of?"
"That was my first thought as well," Superman said. "I was planning on going to Gotham and seeing if there was anything going on."
J'onn nodded thoughtfully. "A good idea." Then he hesitated slightly. "Have you seen Wonder Woman recently?"
"I'm trying not to," he admitted, heaving a sigh. "J'onn…it's like I've lost my two best friends. Diana's gone, Bruce is…Lord alone knows what Bruce thinks he's doing."
"Earlier, the communicator that Hawkgirl gave to Queen Hippolyta was activated. Wonder Woman is with her mother now. I did not want to leave them alone, but the queen was quite insistent."
"Oh. Doesn't sound good."
"No," J'onn agreed. "May I suggest that you perhaps visit Bludhaven before you go to Gotham? If something has happened, Nightwing may be more willing to discuss it than Batman."
"True." He got up, draining the last of his coffee. "Thanks, J'onn. I think I will go and see Nightwing."
He left the cafeteria, heading toward the transporters with a sigh. Looked like it was going to be a long night. Lois was going to kill him when he got home… A raised voice coming from up ahead made him quicken his pace. He turned the corner…and saw something quite unexpected.
Queen Hippolyta – pleading. Clark's heart went out to her; being around Diana was bad enough for him, Heaven knew what it must be like for her mother. Wonder Woman was walking calmly toward him, the queen just behind her. "Diana, please!"
Wonder Woman turned. "I do not believe there is anything more to say, Mother," she said flatly. "You should return to Themyscira."
Again, she turned away, and anger grew on Hippolyta's face. She grabbed Diana's shoulder, spinning her around again violently. What happened next occurred so fast that Clark almost missed it. Wonder Woman grabbed Hippolyta's wrist and twisted it around her back. Within seconds the queen was on her knees, her daughter still twisting. The sound of bones creaking reached Clark's ears, and he knew that any more and Hippolyta's arm would break. That wasn't the worst thing; Wonder Woman's face was utterly blank of emotion. She was only stopping an enemy.
He ran toward them, grabbing her hand and barely managing to prise her off. "Diana, what are you doing?"
"She attacked me," was the only reply. Simple, direct and to the point. Delivered in a dead voice. Before he could say another word, she was gone, heading back down the corridor.
Hippolyta ignored his hand and stood up, holding her arms rigidly in a posture than looked regal but must have been painful. "Are you alright?" he asked.
"I see now my efforts have been in vain," she answered, not looking at him. "My daughter is truly dead. Man's World has claimed her."
---
Dick knew Superman was there before Clark had said a word. It was disconcerting that there were two people in the world who could do that. Nightwing probably had the ability to disappear into thin air too.
"What do you want, Superman?" he asked, arms crossed and frowning.
Clark threw him the copy of the Planet. Not the original, since that had fallen into the ocean along with the bomb, but it still said the same thing. "Check the gossip column. People have started to notice Bruce Wayne's not around."
After a few moments, Dick closed the paper. "What do you want me to do about it?"
"I want you to tell me what's going on," he replied, checking to make sure they were alone. "It's not like Bruce to let that slide. Has something happened?"
There was a pause as Dick looked like he was figuring out what to tell him. "Truthfully…I have no idea. But something is going on – he won't tell me what. But last week he almost killed the Joker. I think he would have if I hadn't been there."
Clark raised his eyebrows, surprised. So if it wasn't something that had happened to Batman, or to the playboy…It had to be Diana. The wheels started turning faster than they had all day. Something had happened in the Fortress, something which had shifted the dynamic between his two closest friends. In fact, Bruce was acting exactly the way he would…if Lois had died.
He groaned. "Oh the damn fool."
Dick frowned. "What?"
Clark turned to go, picking up the paper and preparing to fly off to Gotham. "I've got to go."
"Hey, Superman?"
Clark turned. "Yes?"
"Do what you can," Nightwing said. "I miss my father."
Clark nodded seriously. "Thanks for your help, Dick."
"Any…time," he said as Superman disappeared into the night sky in a flash of blue. He rolled his eyes. Metas.
---
Bruce wanted to tear his eyes out. They kept betraying him, flickering every three seconds to the peacock feather he couldn't throw away. He didn't want to keep looking at it – but it kept drawing his attention, mocking him with its possibilities. He'd even reached out to pick it up a few times. He hadn't, but glared harder at it each time, as if the force of his stare could reduce it to ashes. Every possible argument for and against taking Hera's offer had been running through his mind non-stop for the past week.
Diana – the real Diana – would have taken it. She'd have traded anything, as long as she didn't have to stay trapped in a prison of ice forever. She would have reminded him of what he was already painfully aware: that her immortality had been the biggest obstacle to them having a relationship. Take that away…
No.
A million times he'd pushed that thought aside. He knew precisely where it led. And if he let it lead him there, the decision would already have been made, and Diana was as good as dead. He'd killed her once. He couldn't do it again.
Up the stairs, Alfred's voice echoed. "Mr Kent is here to see you, sir."
Bruce frowned. Kent, not Superman. Therefore, he was here to talk to Bruce, not Batman. "Send him down, Alfred."
"Very good, Master Bruce."
A few moments later, Clark tossed the newspaper onto Bruce's keyboard. "We have a problem."
Bruce indicated one of the screens in front of him; the Daily Planet's website was up, the gossip pages highlighted. "I already know."
"The others will pick up on it too, Bruce," Clark warned.
"Did you come to lecture me, Kent?"
"No. I came to talk about Diana."
Bruce stilled, but didn't say anything. "Hippolyta came to see her. Diana almost broke her arm. She's gone, Bruce," he added. "She doesn't feel guilt, or anger, or joy. This was her mother, and she didn't even feel love."
Bruce stood suddenly. "What do you want me to do about it?" he asked in the voice of the Bat.
Clark crossed his arms, looking back stubbornly. "I want you to get over yourself and start looking for a way we can get Diana back. I want you to stop putting everything on hold while you wallow in self-pity. I want you to admit that you love her, because frankly I'm sick to my back teeth of watching you deny both yourself and her some chance at being happy!"
The Dark Knight only raised an eyebrow. "Finished?"
"Yeah," Clark replied defiantly.
"Good. Get out."
He folded his arms. "Make me."
There was a long and tense silence before Bruce spoke again. Then he motioned for Clark to sit down in the chair he'd just vacated, and began pacing. "I tried to find away to bring Diana back. Short of getting her cursed all over again – there's nothing. Second…" Ignoring Clark's second point, he moved on, taking a deep breath and preparing to say what he'd only recently admitted to himself. "Third…yes, I love her. And there's nothing I can do about it." He amended that silently. Nothing I will do about it.
"What is that?" the Kryptonian asked, pointing at the feather. "You keep looking at it."
Bruce picked it up and cursed himself. "Hera came to me a week ago. She said she could restore Diana's emotions, but that the decision had to be mine. She told me that I could see the consequences before I made it."
Clark stood up. "And you said no?!"
Bruce turned around to face him again, fists clenched. "The price was her immortality. I'd have to kill her, Clark!"
"Making her mortal is not killing her, Bruce. Do you have any idea what I'd give to be able to grow old with Lois? Diana would feel exactly the same and you know it!"
"And do you have any idea what Lois would give to keep you alive forever?" he shot back. "Damn it, Clark, even if I do, how the hell am I supposed to be with her everyday knowing that I'm the reason she's slowly dying?"
"So that's what this is about? You feeling guilty for the rest of your life?!" Clark scoffed. "I know you, Bruce. You blame yourself for what's happened to her now – face it, no matter what decision you make, you're going to feel guilty. It's what you do best. At least you could be happy at the same time!"
"The world needs Wonder Woman. The League needs Wonder Woman."
"Well the world doesn't have Wonder Woman," Clark replied, "and neither does the League. We were on a mission a few days ago – bush fire in Australia – and Diana was helping fly people out. The fire was caused by arsonists. And rather than stop a kid from being burned to death, Diana went after them. She said it was for greater good. She didn't care that Flash had barely got to the kid in time. Does that sound like something Wonder Woman would do?"
"She has a point," Bruce said half-heartedly. Clark's glare was his answer, and he admitted his friend was right. "I still can't."
"Why not? Bruce, if you're worried about the future, just take the goddess's offer. See the future and then decide."
"No."
Clark didn't mean it to, but somehow his fist ended up embedded in the wall. "Explain," he said, voice choked with rage.
"I know exactly what the future holds if it's with Diana, Clark. And if I see it, I'll take it. Decision will be made. It's too dangerous," he persisted.
"For who?!"
They swapped positions again, and Bruce put his face in his hands. "It has to be for the right reasons, Clark. If I do this, it has to be because the world needs her. Not because I do."
Recognising when an argument with Bruce was unwinnable, Clark prepared to leave with a heavy heart. "And that?" he spat, indicating the paper.
Bruce had already gone back to the computer. "I'll take care of it."
---
On Sunday morning, reading the paper in bed, Clark tore it in half when he got to the society pages. Lois looked up from her coffee with a raised eyebrow. "And just what did the paper do to annoy you?"
He pointed, and her eyebrow quirked a little higher. The night before had been the thirtieth birthday of some celebrity or another – there'd been a huge party in the Metropolis Plaza. The picture was of a laughing, airheaded, ditzy blonde in a ridiculously low-cut dress, sporting fake breasts that looked as though she had two basketballs stuck on her chest. She was on the arm of Bruce Wayne, his playboy grin firmly in place.
The headline: He's Back!
---
A/N: Still not the end! I imagine you must be getting rather impatient with me by now, but I'm getting there, I promise! 20 chapters is my goal! Review please!