"It is quite enough," Superman says, earning himself a glare from Bruce Wayne and a frown from Diana Prince. Lois hangs back, blank eyes intent on ignoring her surroundings now. "I believe we shall be leaving. Come, Lois." The two depart with not one more word spoken. It's for the best that they do so.
"That was not necessary, Bruce," Diana points out. She puts a hand on his shoulder and presses down lightly. "He meant nothing by it. You know that." The truth is something else entirely. Diana knows it.
"I know what I heard," Bruce growls, shrugging her hand off. And the truly frightening thing is Diana heard it too. The sting clings to both man and woman. Like with any sudden impact they couldn't even prepare themselves for it. The hit just came out of nowhere, slamming into them. Bruce shakes the pain away, icy eyes focusing on Diana. Superman's words had been aimed at her first and foremost.
"I'm fine." It's her newest catchphrase. She's not fine. Bruce can say that with certainty. In fact this unexpected impact makes it impossible to assess the damage. Old wounds are torn open and they start bleeding again with a vengeance. "Really, Bruce. Trust me." But that's not the worst. It's everything after that hurts. They're trapped in a world of pain with no way out. Oh, the irony. They perfect world is crumbling around them. Paradise is lost to them who want it the most.
His whole body locks up at those words. How can he possibly trust her when he doesn't even trust himself? It's like he's eight again, scared and alone, both parents dead on the ground. He doesn't trust anybody, not anymore. "Let's go." Bruce holds onto his distrust tightly; it's what keeps him alive.
The refusal on Bruce's part makes Diana reel back. It's not like him to turn her comfort away. But then again, it's not like her to offer it. Diana hasn't exactly been capable of dealing with anyone's pain but her own. And she's found a new outlet for it. Since she can't seem to give and nurture life, she's decided the best thing to do is take it. Killing is easier. It's painless and numbing. It's all she has left. Following Bruce silently, Diana contemplates her predicament. She has her own sort of limbo she's inured to and nothing can make her budge.
Ordinarily, Diana would brush his behaviour away but today, of all days, she can't. Today her own brand of weakness demands satisfaction, her demons pounding on the door of her soul. The condrum separates them because Diana's definition of a life without Bruce is conjectural. His, on the other hand, is a reality. Letting go is what he is best at and Diana doesn't allow herself to forget it. Not at this point. Not when she needs to remember it, as he will let go at some point and she has to be ready for it at any time. There is a slow decline and the end is looming over the horizon.
Instead of words, Diana reads the signs. They've been falling apart for some time now. She could probably say that it's Wally's death but that happened some time back. It's not that Wally dying is no longer relevant. The loss is still there, however tragedies keep coming one after another and something's got to give way. Diana thinks that it'll be her sanity. But she can't be sure. Distrust is as much a part of her as it is of Bruce. Perhaps her sanity is gone. It might as well be with the way she's been acting lately.
"Bruce, we're fine," she tries to tell him, only to have her lover look the other way. They are fine.
