Author's Note: Character ownership goes to DC Comics.

"Well, what sort of things are you…not dreaming about?" Diana asks.

'I can't tell her.' I glance about my bedroom for a moment. With everything strewn about like this, there's no way Diana or Alfred would do anything but overreact. 'Not yet, not everything.' I bring my focus back to Diana. "Bad premonitions. We don't have time to talk about it."

Diana turns from me, trading glances with Alfred. "Bruce, look at yourself, look at your bedroom. Make time." Her voice is so gentle, so kind and loving, but still so commanding.

I shake my head, afraid that my voice will betray me. I don't want her to know what I've been seeing. I don't want her to know that somewhere that's not even real, her best friend has killed her first lover. I don't want to tell her that some version of herself is geared for war, prepared to bring her best friend to justice or, failing that, kill him.

Alfred comes to my rescue. He passes around ahead of me. I look up as he walks, find him looking back at me with a knowing expression. As he comes around, I see Diana lift her focus to him as well. "Miss Diana, perhaps it would be for the best if, at this time…" His words trail off as he starts reaching forward to place his right palm atop her shoulder.

I turn my attention from Alfred to Diana, waiting for her response. She looks to me as well, then looks back up at the kindly face of my oldest friend and ally. Finally, she looks down and closes her eyes. "Fine." She is definitely angry about being forced to make the decision. She stands quickly, looks back at me. "Start moving things out of the way, I have to move your bed and bureaus without scratching your floor up any more than you already have."

I rise, not in the mood for disputes. I'm not sure if there's anything to make up yet, but I certainly don't want to upset Diana any more than I have. I need to figure a way to explain things to Diana, to myself, but first and more importantly, I need to figure out how to go about investigating these…dreams, for lack of a better word.

As Diana, Alfred, and I work to rebuild my bedroom, I keep thinking about my newly complex situation. It wasn't just Diana, but also Alfred who was hearing about my experiences for the first time. I had managed to brush his questions off after the first dream. The second had also awoken me before he reached my room, but rather than eschewing reason in the face of panic, I had taken the time to start getting up before Alfred had arrived with hot coffee and a warm greeting.

I can't help noticing as we work that Diana's mood seems to be improving. Our mindless tasks seem to distract and mellow her. By the end, I even spot her smiling again. She takes great interest and gives special attention to detail in the things she places about the room once the furniture is replaced.

I take a little bit of guilt in my amusement over it. She asks Alfred and I about various trinkets, souvenirs, keepsakes, and gifts. For the most part, she only asks to know where the items go, but she asks for background on a number of others. Where they are from. Why I have them. What they are for or what they do.

When at last only the ladder remains waiting in the hallway, my signal scanner resting on one of the rungs, Diana decides to stop. "Alright, Bruce, I'll let you off the hook for now. We both need to head up for this evening's meeting."

I nod with understanding before answering. "Thank you, Diana. I'll try to explain it once I understand what is happening." A twitch runs through the muscles below my left eye. 'Why did I promise that?' Who knows how long that could take? Least of all me.

"Well, if we get some time after the meeting, I'd much rather you try to explain it regardless."

"And if I may be so bold," Alfred interjects, "I would like to be present for such an explanation."

Diana turns at Alfred's words. "Of course, Alfred." She has a plotting smile on her lips as she turns back to me. "I'll drag him home from the Watchtower if I have to."

I clear my throat loudly. "Shouldn't you be heading up soon? We shouldn't be seen arriving at the same time, should we?"

Diana takes a deep breath, but soon nods her agreement. "Just don't think you're getting out of anything here, Bruce."

She crosses to where I'm standing and takes hold of my wrist. She pulls me quickly from the room. "Especially this…" she says once we're in the hallway. After trailing off, Diana lifts her hands to the edges of my jacket and pushes my back against the wall, her grip tightening as she follows her hands.

I can't help but note there is no threat here as Diana begins tipping a little to the side while lifting her lips toward mine, her eyes already closed. Some piece of me is surprised to find myself savoring this unabashed display of affection. Some infinitely smaller piece of me is more concerned with my response while it tries its hardest to remind me that I am the night.

Almost before the thoughts complete, my hands have found Diana's waist. I can feel the gentle warmth of her skin, even through her armor's fabrics. Somehow, her presence eases my concerns, gives me hope that I'll figure out what I'm dreaming and why.

The feeling lingers even after her lips fall away. Alfred steps out of my room after a few moments more, having given us a respectful amount of time to ourselves. He comes to a stop facing Diana. "Will you be using the cave, Miss Diana?"

"No," she replies with a shake of her head. I find my gaze drawn to her long sheets of sable as it all waves gently behind her moving head. "I don't think I should return to the Watchtower from the cave when I visit Bruce."

'It's a good idea. I should have brought it up earlier.' Alfred seems to agree. He nods, lifts his hand, motioning down the hallway, back towards the foyer. "Then might I suggest a walk by the gardens in the yard before you leave?"

Diana nods to Alfred, then turns back and gives me an encouraging smile. She turns back to Alfred as she lets me go, both of our hands falling to our sides. "Yes, that sounds wonderful."

Alfred motions again and Diana turns. He leads even while walking alongside Diana as they leave me to myself. The idea is a little chilling. 'Alone in my investigation, in this mystery. It's as fitting as it is unsettling. How could I tell Alfred what I've seen, what I've experienced? What if I'm wrong and it is a dream, some form of reflection of my self? A metaphor for subconscious needs? An embodiment of my own fear? A supposition exploring how the League itself is wrong, how CADMUS might have been right from the start.'

After CADMUS had been dismantled, Waller had proven herself invaluable to the League's efforts, integral especially to our cooperation with the U.S. government. She's more than once spoken with me about our operations, described it to me as "your League." There was no question that the "your" was singular. 'As though the League could...belong to me...'

I let my thoughts wander for a few minutes more as I head for the foyer, still undecided about what I will do next. Finally, I reign my mind's wanderings in and start my descent to the Batcave. Diana has given me nearly an hour. Now that I know nothing has been planted in my room, the best place I can be is at the Batcomputer.

I save myself a few minutes at the end of my hour by changing into my Batsuit as soon as I arrive downstairs. I hear the grandfather clock opening nearly ten minutes after I take my seat. Alfred descends slowly, finally coming to a stop beside me. "Diana?" I prompt.

"Safely away, sir. She quite enjoyed the gardens before calling up to be recalled to the Watchtower." He takes a step to his right, standing almost against the front edge of the Batcomputer's keyboard console. He looks down at me, staying still until I finally turn my head.

"Master Bruce, I don't mean simply to persist in annoying you, but I do hope that you will tell us something on the matter of your dreams before you must leave for your nightly patrol." He pauses, giving me the chance to respond. "Do we not deserve to know? Perhaps if you were to borrow Leslie's ear it would be easier to speak."

"No. It isn't a matter of nerve," I reply before he can get any additional ideas.

A new thought enters my mind. 'If it isn't technology, perhaps it's a telepathic connection, forcing the sights and sounds on my mind while I sleep.' But who to ask to explore the possibility. The only one I can really trust with something of this nature is J'onn, but I simply don't like the idea of someone—anyone—poking around inside my mind. The pain of my parents' murder is mine and mine alone to bear. It's not something I want to share and certainly not with an ally like J'onn.

Better to find another solution. 'Maybe Alfred's right and Leslie could—no, she has enough to worry about at my father's clinic without me coming in to talk about strangely vivid, violent dreams in which I've experienced my own death and am now a mere observer.'

There aren't many others I would be willing to speak with. If I had Hugo Strange's thought recording machine, I could record the recollection of the dreams and perhaps find some sort of detail hidden in the imagery. Too bad I destroyed that myself.

I'd rather turn to someone I know, someone I can trust. An idea hits me and I lift my right hand, my forefinger extended as I shake my hand towards the Batcomputer's monitor once. 'Zatanna!'

Alfred barely waits ten seconds. "Might I ask what you've thought of, Master Bruce?"

I turn, once again realizing my mistake in forgetting his presence. I turn back to the Batcomputer for a moment, noting the time. Twenty-three minutes until 6:00 p.m. and probably between eighteen and twenty minutes before I'll need to leave. Not enough time to get any work done with Zatanna.

"If there's nothing technologic in my room that's at play, it might be something magical. I'll need Zatanna to help me investigate that." As I speak, I access the Justice League communication systems and key into Zatanna's personal communicator.

"Batman to Zatanna," I begin once the connection is established and secure.

"Zatanna here," she answers after a few moments.

"I need your help with an investigation."

"Ahh. Something magical, then?"

"Possibly. I need to see if I can confirm it or rule it out."

"Alright. Would you mind waiting until tomorrow, though? I'm in the middle of a tour. I'm doing a show tonight in Central City. My next show is this weekend in Metropolis, so I'll have more time after tonight and I'll be closer anyhow."

"Fine. Drop by when you're available."

"Alright. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Good. Batman out." I wait for Zatanna to respond, then close out the channel and start to think again.

Magic isn't something I much care for. It bends the rules of reality, makes the impossible possible. Diana's powers come from Amazonian magic or directly from her Greek gods, but the use of magic isn't always a good thing, as her adopted Amazonian sister Aresia would have proven if mages like Morgaine Le Faye, her son Mordred, and Felix Faust hadn't beaten her to it. Having to fight Etrigan to keep the manipulated demon from killing Jason Blood hadn't helped either, since magic is what split the two beings apart.

To distract myself for a few minutes, I rise, letting Alfred follow me as I head for the gym. I'm not sure if he'll ask again or if he'll decide simply to wait until I'm ready to talk. I'm a little relieved that by the time I reach the punching bags, Alfred is no longer behind me. I don't like worrying him, but I can't talk about the dreams just yet, not when I don't know how to explain them or what to do about them.

I keep myself active in the gym until it's nearly the top of the hour. I let myself calm as I cross the cave to the transporter pad. After a few moments at its control panel, it begins to power on. I step onto the circular pad and let the machinery do its work.

In the middle of the lightshow, I blink, holding my eyes shut for long enough to open them to the Watchtower's transporter deck. I step off the pads, passing the transporter technician without a word, though I notice as I pass that he logs me into the system. I head directly for the elevator and head up towards the founders' conference room.

When I come off the elevator and walk down the hallway towards the conference room door, I spot Diana waiting outside. "Diana." A greeting when I am close enough to avoid raising my voice, spoken in the Bat's voice, but almost cordially.

Diana turns her head to me, her arms still folded beneath her bust, still leaning back against the wall beside the door with her feet crossed. Her eyes narrow for the briefest of moments, then she clears her throat pointedly. "Batman."

She remains still against the wall until I stop beside her. I'm not quite sure why she is out here. We barely have two minutes before the meeting is scheduled to begin. Her tone indicates she is still frustrated by my refusal to explain the dreams, but I don't think she would confront me like this over it.

"You can greet me a little more warmly, you know." I breathe an inward sigh of relief, the dreams aren't her concern right now. "We're the last two. I wanted to forewarn you."

"What about?"

"Kal brought extra copies of the Daily Planet."

"Let me guess, the edition with Lois Lane's interview."

"Would there be another worth handing out to the rest of the founders?"

I only groan in response as I turn my head, looking past Diana to the conference room door and Superman and the others beyond it. I can only imagine our interview will be connected to every item on Superman's agenda for the evening. I sigh with exasperation and turn back to Diana. "Let's get this over with."

Diana nods as she leans away from the wall and her arms fall to her sides. We step towards the door and I key us in before letting Diana pass through the doorway ahead of me. I stay close behind her for a couple steps, letting her head and hair block my view of the conference table and what I'm sure I will see.

Sure enough, before the door even closes, I hear the rustling of newspaper from first one location, then a second, and soon after a third. When we are closer to the table, Diana can no longer keep the conference table from my view. When I step to the left, moving past her to my chair as she sits down, I let my cowl hide my eye movements as I scan the table quickly.

Not one of them is without the Daily Planet in their hands. Superman, J'onn, and John are all holding theirs normally in both hands, though Superman is leaning back in his chair, the angle nearly hiding him behind the paper once I am seated. Flash and Shayera have both folded theirs back a few times to hold a more condensed paper casually in one hand.

"Huh… I didn't know you guys danced in Paris." I turn to Flash. I can't say I'm surprised he is the first to speak.

"And you never told me he's as good a kisser as the tabloids say, Diana," Shayera adds.

Diana jerks her head towards the Thanagarian. "Wait. What?" she demands. She turns back to Flash and rips the newspaper from his hand. "Where does it say that?" she asks no one in particular while scanning the page to see how much of it is Lois's article.

A couple moment later she finds the line. She quickly reads the entire paragraph around it. "I told her I had no point of reference because I don't read tabloids!" she exclaims in frustration.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath before turning to my right. "Diana," I say more soothingly than should come from Batman's lips. 'Just stop before you tell everyone that Lois answered her own question after you tried…' The words nearly escape me.

Instead, when Diana turns to me, I give her a small nod before turning to Kent. "Superman, shouldn't we begin?"

"We don't have to yet, Bruce," he replies with emphasis to match mine.

Even in his full costume, right now, he is Clark Kent, reporter for the Daily Planet, and he's going to drag this out, force me to be Bruce Wayne for a while longer. Maybe I should have let him in on the interview, given him the chance at sharing the byline.

"Have you seen which of Jimmy's pictures they chose for the article?" he then asks.

"…No." For the most part, I don't think I want to know, not here, surrounded by the original League. Unfortunately, Diana decides to help me out, passing Flash's folded copy down the table towards me.

I nearly push it back to her, but I have the feeling she will not let me avoid it. Still, I hesitate before looking down. "I suppose it was one of the better pictures," Diana tells me. Now I have to know.

I look down and nearly breathe a sigh of relief. Lois had picked a photograph of Diana and I standing by the Daily Planet windows, facing the camera and shoulder-to-shoulder. My right arm is hooked around Diana's left, hands joined between us and my left in her right. James had stood far enough to the side to eliminate glare from the window, giving the image a clear backdrop of the Metropolis skyline. At least it's one from the innocuous majority of the photographs and not one of us hugging or kissing.

"Gotta say, Bruce, you move quickly. Didn't realize you two were already so close." I turn back to Superman and wait for him to explain himself while I try to think of what part of the interview he is referring to. "When asked where the couple might live if they were to move in with one another, Wonder Woman answered, 'I would probably move into Wayne Manor. I couldn't bring myself to ask Alfred to part with the manor.' Alfred Pennyworth has been with the Wayne family for two generations now. Will he see the start of a third before retiring?" he reads, adding emphasis to dramatize it a little.

"She omitted Diana saying we hadn't discussed it yet," I explain quickly.

I lift my head towards the door. There's an analogue clock above it, nothing but hands and four marker lines at the top, bottom, and sides of the hour. It's barely been five minutes since Diana and I sat down.

I keep checking the clock as the meeting slowly continues. Until Superman finally gets us on track for League matters and some world politics at the bottom of the hour, I can't even call it progress. The League business lasts only another five minutes after. Well, for me it does.

"Are you sure you couldn't use some extra help in Gotham, Bruce?" Superman's token question, asked on occasion when he hears that crime is rising in Gotham. Sometimes he asks it when feeling a little guilty, too. I suspect the latter is the case now.

I turn back from the clock, estimating the time as 6:35. "If you're that worried about Gotham, I can certainly leave now and get to work." I rise from my chair, not waiting for an answer, in fact eager for the out.

I have to ignore Diana's protests as I leave the room. I'm back in the hallway in mere seconds. The door almost closes behind me before halting and opening up again. I glance back as the hallway bends, just in time to see Diana rush out of the room. She turns and gives chase.

"Br—Batman!" she exclaims just before landing a hand on my shoulder. I lift mine to hers, hold it there as I keep moving, not stopping until I am standing before the elevator. Diana proves my guess correct when I finally turn to find her floating back down to the floor.

"I've called in Zatanna. She's going to help me investigate tomorrow, help me determine if there is a connection to magic. I'll let you know when I have the results of our investigation."

Diana looks down for a moment, then begins shaking her head in a narrow arc as she lifts her chin back up toward me. Resignation again, but this time it's welcome. "Alright. Fine. Do what you need to. I won't bother you about it anymore. Just…before you go."

The hint is made more obvious when Diana lifts her hands to my chest. I wrap my arms around her waist and tip my head down for a simple kiss, merely holding our lips pressed together. It doesn't last too long, or long enough if Diana's follow-up is any indicator. She starts with a pair of near kisses, light brushes of lip against lip, then leans in for a more passionate kiss, gradually pushing my back to the wall and holding herself against me.

When she finally pulls back, our ragged breathing is nearly a perfect match. I find my hands rubbing Diana's sides, ignoring the fabrics between our skin.

"Go," Diana tells me in a quiet, loving voice as she reaches past me to my right to press the elevator's call button, "but promise me that if things do get too overwhelming, you'll call me to help. That goes for this investigation and patrol." I nod after a moment, despite hoping that it will never come to that, but mostly, I'm just glad that her love for me hasn't diminished.

I return to the cave after bidding Diana a good night's rest and receiving her well wishes in reply. Alfred is waiting for my arrival, but I quickly explain that Diana agreed to wait until after my investigation with Zatanna. Luckily, he doesn't put up an argument either.

With Alfred satisfied for the time being, I climb into the Batmobile for the first time since Diana and I originally went to Gotham Delizioso. The reporters of Gotham had, for the most part, given up on getting an interview after Lois's was published. Only Summer Gleeson still seemed more than passingly interested in talking to me and she was looking for something to air on Gotham Insider. The first televised interview.

I think I'll end up giving the interview. With or without Diana doesn't matter much at the moment, but I imagine she would want her there to one-up Lois's newspaper interview. Fortunately, I can ignore it for now, maybe until after these dreams are sorted out. I know Summer well enough to ask for a little patience.

Patience. The night demands it from me in scads. At the same time, it proves me right, there was at least some guilt on Clark's part for letting talk of Lois's interview take so long. I only barely need two hands to count the number of crimes that I break up tonight. The most exciting part of patrol is a quick stop at Rupert Thorne's to drag him out of bed and warn him that I know what he's doing in the Lower East Side before slamming him into a wall and leaving while he was still disoriented.

Alfred offers me a hot cup of coffee when I arrive home earlier than usual, but I decline, planning to update my logs and head upstairs to sleep. Alfred at least seems happy to hear my decision, then leaves me to my own faculties as he returns to the manor with the coffee. It's only a quarter of an hour later when I follow after him to retire for the night.

Once I'm finally in bed, I let my mind wander. Eventually, I try to prepare myself for what I expect will be tonight's dream, as I have been doing for each of the past three nights. 'I wish I had a better word for them.'

The first thing I do is go over the previous dreams, looking for points of conflict. Aside from Diana's refusal to acknowledge me and Superman's jarring violence, the only thing that truly stands out at me is that Diana knew about the kryptonite vault behind the costume display cases.

It isn't long after I finish revisiting the dreams that I finally fall asleep. I have no idea how long it lasts, but I feel myself sleeping. An emptiness, a calming void. Sight with nothing to see, hearing with no sounds to hear. It only seems to last an instant, but this familiar feel of dreamless sleep always does seem timeless, at once infinitely long and unimaginably short.

It ends in a blur of light. I feel myself being dragged and before I can truly process the change, I spot Diana, tumbling head-over-heels backward through the air in the main transporter deck of the Watchtower. I'm being dragged along behind her, my perspective again focused on and tethered to the Themysciran princess.

A moment later, she slams into the exterior wall of the Watchtower, in the middle of a large gap between two segments of window. Her back hits with a bang, the metal bending, leaving an imprint of her body as she sinks into it.

"What do you think you're doing, Diana?" Shayera demands at nearly the top of her lungs, her mace held at the ready for another swing. Superman is in the air behind her, doing his best to regain his strength even as he loses altitude.

Diana begins extricating herself from the wall, trying to be careful to keep from rupturing the hull. Her right hand pops free and the chunk of kryptonite held in her closed fist falls to the floor below her when her hand opens a little further than she probably meant to allow.

She scrambles the rest of the way from the wall and immediately dives forward to retrieve the alien shard. She looks up to find Shayera charging her. Diana jumps into the air to meet her and reaches out to catch the mace with her bracelets. She delivers a stunning kick, then turns to flee. Just before she gets far enough for my consciousness to begin dragging along behind her, I notice the foam-covered, once-flaming remains of the transporter. Diana must have destroyed them after arriving. She has cut off the only form of quick reinforcements or escape.

Diana looks back and I shift my focus behind her as well, seeing Shayera in pursuit. Suddenly, Diana stops. She turns back to Shayera and lifts her arms to defend herself. "He killed Batman!" she shouts just before Shayera begins swinging at her. "It wasn't any sort of accident!"

She blocks the first two attempted strikes, but then she catches the third attack. She brings the Nth metal weapon to a full stop against her magical bracelets and then grabs its handle with one hand and Shayera's wrist with the other. Before the kryptonite can even drop from her hand to the floor, Diana rips hand from mace and is left holding Shayera's mace in her left hand and Shayera herself in her right.

She spins around once, taking Shayera along for the short ride before throwing her. It's then that I notice the escape pods along the wall. With perfect aim, Shayera lands in the back of one of the pods, the impact dazing her. Diana rushes to the wall, pressing the launch key and then tossing the mace inside before the redheaded Thanagarian can even react.

Diana watches for long enough to be sure that Shayera can't try her own little space walk before heading back towards the battlefield in the transporter deck. She arrives to find Superman on his feet, supported by a half dozen of the Watchtower's purple-clad staffers.

He looks up at Diana and his eyes widen at the realization that Shayera is not coming back. His expression hardens a moment later and I notice a glow to his eyes. Diana stops in midair to scream out in pain, nearly howling. I spot why quickly from my formless perspective. He is boring a hole through her hand to try to destroy the kryptonite before she can use it again.

When Diana stops, anger flashes over her expression. She turns from Superman to her hand, examining the hole Superman melted through her hand very quickly. The hole is at the end of her palm, almost centered between the knuckles of her middle and ring fingers. She might be able to use the appendage, but certainly not immediately and not without a lot of pain if she can move it at all.

She finally opens her hand, slowly at first, revealing a palm empty but for a pile of loosely fused kryptonite dust. It falls apart like sheets of brittle sandstone in the open air. Beneath it, I can already see her enhanced, Amazonian healing at work on her hand, closing the hole burned and melted by Superman.

Now without so effective a weapon, Diana charges ahead. The staffers supporting Superman drop him and flee, trying to get away from Diana and having nowhere to truly run away to. She bowls him over, locking her arms around him and keeping herself behind him, her right arm below his chin.

"Why, Kal? How could you kill Batman? 'Impaled on a pipe in an explosion'—how dare you lie to my face like that!"

'Wait! Superman told Alfred, not Diana! How could he have told her? Diana was asleep in my bed at the time.'

Superman's hands, already wrapped around Diana's forearm, begin to pull her arm away. Finally, he manages to get himself an opening and pulls Diana's arms the remainder of the way from his neck. He lifts his right arm and then slams his elbow back, into Diana's gut. He turns with a burst of superhuman speed while tripping Diana up and landing atop her.

"Because of you! For you!" Superman yells back. His expression grows ever more grim. "Do you have any idea what it's like to watch him reject you time and again for years? How it feels to watch as one of your best friends destroys another? How it feels to know that I could have stopped this from ever happening if I had just said something before the 11th hour countdown began?"

Diana pushes Superman off of her and lifts herself to deliver a swift kick to the side of his face. "You thought killing the man I've spent years pining over would placate me, could ever make me...happy?"

She punches Superman in the face, magical strength and honed combat skills landing on alien strength and pure power given human form. Superman's head twists at his neck beneath the force of Diana's attack. "I…" She delivers another powerful punch. "…would have..."A small series of punches, all landing against Superman's jaw. "…given him another chance…" Diana lowers her hand to knock the air from Superman's lungs. "All I needed was time to forgive him!"

Diana slams her left elbow against Superman's chest, just above the emblem on his suit's chest. She reaches under her bracelet with her right hand and pulls a small metal plate from beneath. She throws it to her right and Superman immediately begins having trouble with his struggles. "I will not forgive what you've done!"

Diana reaches back beneath her bracelet. She soon pulls her hand free again and in it, holds the second shard of kryptonite between her thumb and first two fingertips. She holds it to Superman's collarbone. He begins crying out in pain, struggling beneath her. "Did Bruce suffer when you murdered him? Can you even imagine what it would be like for him, to be betrayed and killed by one you hold in such high regard? You're about to find out first-hand!"

Diana lifts her hand away and then immediately thrusts the kryptonite back down, her fingers providing the support as she forcibly, violently injects the kryptonite into Superman's chest. His mouth falls open. His eyes widen to their limits. He tries to cry out in pain, but he produces almost no sound.

Before long, he falls still and silent. The Man of Steel, Krypton's last son, dead, his life taken in response to the life he took beforehand. Maybe revenge, maybe vengeance, but maybe as a way to bring the balance of justice to the world left behind.

The Watchtower staff seem to crawl out of the woodwork all around the room. Likewise, other League members appear, most of them injured, unable to fight. A young woman approaches a little past the other staffers. She asks a question that I admit has crossed my own mind as well. "What happens now? What will happen to the League, to all of us?"

Diana pulls her hand from Superman's chest. Slowly, she rises to her feet. "Nothing, Susan. There is no League. Not anymore…"

Falling silent again, Diana crosses the uneven floor, pockmarked with impact craters, back to the elevators. She gets in and my perspective is squeezed inside as the doors close behind her. The moment she is sealed inside, Diana draws her lips back and closes her eyes. She lifts her hands, clutching her elbows as she wraps her arms across her stomach. She leans forward, her hair falling in front of her shoulders as she nearly doubles over while unleashing a long, almost soundless scream of anguish and pain.

When it ends, she drops to her knees. There, in the small space of the elevator with only my unreal self present to witness it, Diana begins to cry. It's painful for me to hear, yet I can do nothing but watch.

More painful than the crying are her occasional utterances. "Bruce," "I'm sorry," and "I still love you" are the hardest to listen to. All I want to do is wrap myself around her. Let her tears stop and just be, just be there for her.

Is this what it all adds up to? Is this what I am supposed to see? Is this why my dreams have tortured me? What am I supposed to learn from this?

The scenery around me now, the violence of this and past dreams, Diana's words. Each pass through my thoughts. Finally, a thought breaks away from the nebula of ideas swimming in my consciousness. This all started with me, by rejecting Diana. In reality, she listened to my apology, forgave me. Here, she wouldn't even hear me out. She left to cool off, not to reject me again.

I died at Superman's hands because of it. He died by Diana's hand. I died so Superman could protect Diana. Superman died because of his misunderstanding, because she did not want protection, because she wasn't done. She couldn't give up on me, on us, even though in my last moments, I had.

Waller was right after all. I have never claimed any ownership over the League, but my funding keeps it going. My funding brought it together under Superman's more charismatic influence. The original League prepared itself to continue on after Superman's apparent death. Our expanded League was prepared to continue on without the founders, even if they had to work alone again.

I intimidate if not inspire fear in friend and foe alike. I lack utterly in supernatural strength and abilities. Yet in these dreams, without even a shadow of the financial implications to speak of, my death has led to the end of the League. I can't help but think the same could happen in reality.

My thoughts shift back to Diana. The elevator door is open to the Javelin bay. She is still on the floor, her left foot extended, blocking the doorway and keeping the doors from closing again. She is quivering, shaking. She has stopped talking, but her tears continue to fall.

Her sobs are still eating at me. I remember my own anguish from my parents' murder. I can imagine the guilt overwhelming her. He said in no uncertain terms that he killed me for her. She must live with that knowledge, that weight on her shoulders. All she could do was tell him he was wrong. She made sure he knew that much before killing him.

But even his death did nothing to ease her longing, her pain.

Author's Note: Reviews are welcome and appreciated, but certainly not required. Thanks for reading.