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Bruce has been gone for almost a week. Diana thinks she should be worried, but she isn't. She just can't find the energy to squander on such emotions. Having wounds of her own to heal, Diana turns her eyes away from the door. The stick in her hand mocks her. One red line holds her attention. Diana exhales and tears come out involuntarily. She doesn't want to cry anymore. It makes her head ache.

"How stupid," she murmurs, because it is so very, very daft of her to do this. A pregnancy test can tell her nothing; Diana knows she's not pregnant. And still, she takes the damned test every month. Every single month since her baby died, the woman takes one of these tests and sighs dejectedly when they turn out negative. Bruce doesn't know it. But how could he? He doesn't even share a room with her anymore. Diana doesn't know where he's sleeping; only that it's nowhere near her.

The door creaks and Diana jumps. She turns her head and finds Bruce standing in the doorway. Something in his face makes it seem like at the moment he's fragile, breakable. "Hey," Diana says. It's the only civil thing she can think of. There are, of course, other things she wants to tell him, but they are less pleasant and would destroy the little they have left. "Come on in."

Obediently, Bruce enters the room, the door shutting behind him. He strolls to the bed and sits down next to her. Blue eyes drop to the test in her hand. "Is it negative again?" As he looks up, he sees the surprise on her face. "I'm sorry." He is sorry because he's not there when she needs him, and sorry because he knows she's in pain each and every month when her hopes are dashed. Mostly, he regrets that no matter how many times they try, it never seems to get better. Anger is always there, just beneath the surface. Bruce takes the object from her hand and dumps it in the bin.

It takes forever for Diana to react, but her lips press in a bloodless line. "I can't stop," she manages to get out. "It scares me. Do you know why?" No reply comes. "Because it won't be the same. I won't feel that joy anymore." Diana closes her eyes and leans into Bruce. For the moment it doesn't matter where he's been. "Another child will not solve this, Bruce. It won't make it better."

Aware that she is waiting for him to say something, Bruce grazes his fingers to her shoulder. "Having a child might make it bearable." He knows not whether it is so, but they have to try.

"Or it might make it worse," Diana counters. "But Bruce, I really, really want one. With you." Deep inside, Diana is like most women. Diana is like Shayera. She wants something solid, tangible with the man she loves. Is that such a crime? Does she have to be punished for it? It's unfair to her way of thinking.

Instead of words, Bruce brushes his lips to her forehead. He then moves to her mouth. It is a slow progress they're making. Reminiscent of their better days, earlier trysts, they work to achieve something lost. It is almost like they've forgotten what being together is like and the memories need unlocking. Diana doesn't have time to bemoan the fact; her mind set of reconstruction. She traces every scar, the story behind it clear in her head.

"I've missed you," Bruce whispers against her collarbone. His warm hands hold her still, fingers pressing into her skin. Diana thinks it nowhere near as much as she's missed him. But she smiles down at him.