The flesh yields in her grip and the bone snaps from the strong pressure applied to it. The crunch is there. Wonder Woman stares at her handiwork. Ceetah has stopped struggling in her arms. She's gone now, that's for sure. One more enemy down. Her fingers are still holding the corpse. Diana knows that she should be scared. But this is not the first time Wonder Woman takes a life. Although, the numbness feels unnatural to her. Surely she should be able to feel something – remorse even. However Diana doesn't. Still, one more villain is never to be a bother again. And that's a good thing.

Blank whiteness stares at her. Batman drags himself up; she doesn't offer to help – her hands are full. Gently he pries one hand away from the opponent's crushed neck. There is nothing to be said and the pitter-patter of rain fills the silence. Tears don't fall; it's just water streaming from above. The Dark Knight forces the other hand to loosen its grasp also. The body falls down with an insignificant thud. "Princess." The word lingers between them. It flickers with something akin to hope then diminishes until it fades. Batman's gaze never falters even when his words dare not come.

Only, she not! Wonder Woman is not Diana – they are so very different, after all – and her eyes narrow at the use of the endearment. "Batman," she returns coolly. Somewhere in the back of her mind that old struggle between who she was and who she is ensues once more. Blue eyes soften. "Are you alright?" Ceetah shouldn't have had the courage to approach him with those claws. She can see the blood.

When her mother trained her she used to say it was hard – but quick – to take a life. Even harder, she passed the knowledge to her daughter, was to know when not to take a life. But they've been sparing lives and that changed nothing. Disposing of the enemies was much more permanent. It's these snap decisions, Diana concludes after taking one last look at Ceetah, that come back to haunt her.

"I didn't actually think you'd do it," Superman voices from somewhere behind her. Batman shakes his head, his hand still holding hers – which is strangely restless. "At least Arkham will have vacancies now."

Later when it's only Diana and Bruce in the Wayne Manor, she can finally ponder over the rightness – or lack thereof – of her decision. She took one life to save another. She took a life not because she enjoyed it – although that had been there, buried deep where she didn't have to acknowledge it. Wonder Woman is a warrior as clearly as Diana is a woman. The destroyer and the nurturer are never at peace with one another. It's a loosing battle. But which is the side to loose? Diana doesn't know.

"I miss it sometimes," she confesses while leaning into Bruce on the couch. "Don't you ever feel the need to be like that again?" They were idealists once; believing they could make a difference.

"We've made a progress. Why turn back?" It's sound logic. Bruce is nothing if not tied to reason, so Diana accepts his words. Indeed, why change what has been improved? What would the point be?

Finally relaxing, Diana shifts against Bruce and rewards him with a brilliant smile. Why bother over Ceetah? She has been a mere ghost of the woman she once was. Superman took care of that. It remains unanswered what prompted her violent outburst. After one of Superman's treatment, villains didn't usually retain the capacity to do damage. It's so very strange. Tired of pondering, Diana gives up. She's rather let it go.


There is this grey in-between which separates good from bad. And Diana lingers for a short while.