Beaten, bleeding, humiliated and her identity exposed to the entire world, Wanda watched with heavily lidded eyes as the clouds in the sky continued to float overhead. At least the plans for the warheads had made it to the others, and she could fully enjoy the beautiful sky above. The shotgun had done its work wonderfully, making it a chore for her to even breathe. Her legs were also a bloody mess, she could feel her body trying to mend the broken bones and shredded flesh, but she didn't think it was fixable.

There was definitely a quip she wanted to make about this situation, if there had been someone around to listen to her. A little joke, a little laugh, that was how she wanted to die, on a high note with a smile. But, since she was alone in the corner of a park, this was good to. She could just watch the sky until everything else faded, and that was all right with her. She didn't have to see Luthor's smug, too sure of himself grin, or anything else unpleasant, really. It was good enough.

Her eyes began to fall shut, and she wondered if anyone would be able to find her body before animals decided to poke around. Being ripped to pieces by the wildlife did not sound like a fitting end to her, she had never really thought about funeral arrangements, only when she could make a good joke about it, now she wished she could tell someone she just wanted to be put six feet deep where no one would touch her remains ever again.

"Wanda?" her eyes flitted open and focused on the two people above her. She had not even realized she had shut her eyes.

"Hey," it hurt to talk, her voice was slurred beyond even her own recognition.

"Don't talk!" Batman ordered, twinges of emotion in his voice that Wanda didn't recognize.

"' think you're too late, Bats," she said honestly, "Too late for me. He- he took everything..."

"Just stay quiet and lay still," he ordered her. She heard someone in the background talking to whoever was on the Watchtower, and she heard them say something about a hospital. No! Not a hospital. She'd been in enough of those more than what was fair!

"Don't wanna go to a hospital," she groaned, "Wanna go home. Let me go home."

"No, Wanda," Batman shook his head, "You need medical attention."

"Uh-uh," she violently shook her head from side to side, only to have Batman firmly grab her chin to prevent the movement, "'m not going! I wanna go home!"

"I'll get you home, Wanda," he assured her, "I promise, I will get you home, but you need to be patient."

"Don't wanna be a patient. No hospital," she insisted. She didn't like the poking or the prodding, or the surgeries.

"Wanda, did he give you any shots or force you to drink something?"

"Mm-hmm. Lotsa needles."

"Superman," Batman turned away from her, "tell them to be advised that there are unknown substances in her system."

"No hospital!" she was starting to get mad. She wasn't going to go to a flippin' hospital! She was going home! She didn't want to die in a hospital, she wanted to die somewhere peaceful that she knew! This hilltop would have sufficed, but she really wanted to see home, one last time.

"Are they ready?" Batman ignored her.

"Just waiting on our word," a moment later, the familiar tingle of the teleporter spread over her. The world shifted, and it was suddenly chaos as unfamiliar people began to loudly talk over each other and she was moved onto some kind of bed. She couldn't see Batman or Superman anywhere, nor could she hear their voices either. She couldn't understand what was going on until a familiar, sharp scent made everything click.

"No!" she began to try fighting the people around her, "Not the hospital! No! I wanna go home!"

Batman appeared over her again, saying a stream of words to try to calm her down and explain that she needed to be there, but she couldn't listen to him. She wanted, no, needed to get home! And she needed him to understand! She didn't want to die in this kind of place! That was her greatest nightmare!

She saw white when they moved her again, onto a hard surface, and tried taking in deep breaths to counter it. It hurt so bad! It was like an explosion of pain all across her body. So much pain! It wasn't fair! Not the least bit fair!

"Stop! Wanda! Stop!" she was suddenly struggling against someone, she didn't know who. Everything was moving in and out of focus, her eyes couldn't see what was in front of her, yet she could feel. She felt the pointy ear things on Batman's mask, and punched his jaw as hard as she could manage. Rational? No. But she was dying, for goodness sake!

She felt the teleportation happen again, and could smell the perfume she had dumped on the floor in her haste to stop Trickster from drowning Central City in a tidal wave of fake snot. Home. She relaxed. She let Batman hold her close, and closed her eyes.

Batman did not know when she stopped breathing, when it became too late to do anything, but he knew that it happened in his arms, under his watch. He knew that he was soaked in her blood, she was going cold, and it was his fault. He had not found her in time.

Superman knew the exact moment she died, heard her heartbeat stop and the last breath she released. He wasn't holding her, wasn't covered in her blood, yet he felt her slipping away as if he was a life monitor. He felt her die, and it was his fault. He had not killed Luthor before he had gone this far.

Green Lantern arrived from searching in another area an hour after she passed away, but just looking at the damage done was enough to drive him to his knees in grief. It was his fault, because he brushed her off the night she disappeared.

Martian Manhunter was on the Watchtower, and he knew she was gone moments after. He never saw the body, only the medical report. It made him sick to think that anyone would do even half the things done to her. It was his fault, because he had not read her mind when she had told him she was working on something he wouldn't like.

Wonder Woman was standing beside Superman in the apartment, not understanding why they had all left the hospital. She found out later that there was nothing anyone could have done, not even the greatest surgeon in the universe. It was her fault, because she had not spoken to Flash in the last two weeks.

Hawkgirl walked in on the scene merely minutes after Batman realized that Flash was gone. She collapsed to Wanda's side and begged her to come back. Soon, she was covered in ghastly red as she wept. It was her fault, because she had ignored a call from Wanda only minutes before this happened.

Each knew that they were to blame, and there was no comfort in that.

The End