Because Barbara Minerva was the first friend that Diana made…
In that moment, Diana wanted to be alone. No, she needed to be alone. To think, to feel, to process this…this betrayal through. Friend. Obviously this was a routine for a comedy show. How stupid could she have been? It would be better to live in a vacuum than it would be to get hurt. Right? If only they'd stop talking so she could think. A plan, she needed a plan. Would they just stop? She could do this. It wasn't the first time that she would have to fight a friend, nor would it be the last. Now, if they would all just stop talking and if her chest would stop aching then maybe she could stop planning and start actually doing.
Frustration screamed from her every pore, her body language telegraphing what tact was barely hanging onto by a thread. Her teeth literally sank down into the surface of her tongue as the Flash, Superman and Cyborg spoke behind her. Clutching her control like it was the end of Hestia's lasso, Diana moved to the computer and began pulling up what they had on Bar—The Cheetah. Barbara was gone, buried somewhere beneath a monster. Assuming she'd ever known Barbara at all. The pain in her chest shifted, becoming something weighted, something she could feel all the way down to the marrow of her bones. Couldn't they just figure out that she didn't need their help to fix her problems. She didn't need anyone's help! Didn't need anyone at all!
…It was easier that way.
I appreciate your looking out for me, but this isn't why the Justice League exists.
To fix her own problems. On her own. Without them. She didn't need them, any of them.
The Cheetah is my problem, not yours.
The words that left her lips were polite, clipped, cold, trying to hammer home the message that apparently the rest of the men in the room were either not getting, or choosing to ignore. Diana didn't need them to fix this, she could do it on her own if they'd just give her some space she could—
Can you excuse us for a minute? Flash? Cyborg?
The urge to scream was getting stronger. What did this man think? That he could change her mind by speaking to her alone? What made him think that? That because they'd kissed, shared a moment, a brief connection, that he could now sway her opinion? Who did he think he was? Seething, Diana was seething, but she waited.
Let us help you find your friend.
Friend. Friend. That was a stretch. In fact, it was an outright lie, one that Diana had allowed herself to pulled into as though it was created by the Gods themselves. How could she have been so stupid? How could she have let herself…let herself…
I don't get involved when Lex Luthor or Metallo is causing trouble, do I?
Even to her own ears, her tone sounded petulant…at best, but why couldn't he leave this well enough alone? This was her mess, she could clean it up herself. This was her mistake, her error, and how could she have been so stupid?
Diana's thoughts were screaming so loud that she nearly couldn't make out his words. It was hard enough to make out his face through the red that was coloring her vision.
Not because you need it but because we want to. I want to. If this is that important and involves helping someone you care about, I want to help.
Something about his words cracked through like chisel taken to dry clay. I want to help… But…but…Reason started to make its way in. Why was she reacting this way? Why? Because…Because…
A small voice finally answered her, whether it was her own, or the voice of her sister Athena, Diana wasn't sure but she could suddenly see her reaction with surprising clarity. Carefully deflating her pride, closed her eyes and let the truth come to her, as it always did. Her reaction was because Superman—Clark was asking her to do the very thing that had gotten her hurt in the first place; let someone in.
Slowly the tension leaked from her shoulders, even if she couldn't pull all the suspicion from her voice.
What happened a few days ago, Superman. It just happened.
The air between them crackled with tension and for a moment Diana wasn't sure if it was from their conversation or the memories of the night before. Warmth melted into her cheeks and again, she felt the fear start to churn under what she hoped was surface.
What was this? What were they doing?
The tightness started to spread upward, downward, outward and onward.
I know. It was a kiss not a commitment.
And just like that she could breathe. This wasn't all spiraling out of control. Something wasn't happening that she wasn't aware of. This…simply was…but…
But it was nice, Diana.
The breath she wasn't aware she was holding floated away.
It was.
And for the first time that day, Diana felt calm.