Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Thank you, Kipling Nori, for the beta. In grateful appreciation, I bestow upon thee some ranch and cucumbers. :D

Also, bookself, if you are reading this, I tried contacting you earlier about the stuff you sent me in a private message, but you have yours turned off, so I could not reply back. I did post something in my profile about it, but I will be taking that off soon.

Madly

Chapter Three:

Shoulder

He was on fire. Tossing and turning, back and forth, and there was no relief. His throat was dry, cracked and scratchy as tree bark. Every breath was suffering, and he would have stopped but he couldn't.

Discordant, jarring sounds engulfed him. Loud blasts, screaming, the soft thud of bodies falling, screeching, a horrible fluttering. But these sounds meant nothing to him; they were only a loud cacophony of chaos pulsating down his auditory canal. Clawing at his head he covered his ears, needing the sounds to stop penetrating his skull.

Horrified of what would greet him, Bruce shut his eyes tight, curling in on himself. Shivers wracked his body, and the heat turned to ice. Cold, paralyzing fear slithered down his spine, and he opened his mouth to scream, but didn't want to let the monsters outside find him, so he kept silent.

Bruce.

The voice was soft and sad, and he didn't recognize it or the sounds it was saying.

He felt a warm hand on his forehead. His eyes clenched shut even tighter, but the hand did not leave. It just kept stroking his face, repeating the same sounds over again.

It will be alright, Bruce.

His breathing had finally slowed, and he was no longer afraid of the thing touching him. Wanting to see who was there, he opened his eyes.

The creature was beautiful. Hair dark as night, face like the moon, eyes like stars.

He didn't know what it was, but inside he knew he was safe.

He said the only thing that came to mind.

"Diana?"

She smiled slightly, then nodded her head. He reached for her face, tracing it with tentative fingers. When he touched her mouth, she kissed his fingertips.

"Diana?"

Yes, it's me. I'm here.

He moved towards her, wanting to be nearer to thing that made him feel secure. The being pulled him into strong arms, wrapping warmth around him and infusing him with calm.

His head was cradled against her chest, and he listened to the nonsense coming from her mouth. His eyes began to droop, lulled by the steady beat of her heart.

"Diana," he muttered the word again, not quite sure what it meant, though knowing it was in some way connected to the creature holding him.

And then he fell asleep.

When he woke up, the terrifying sounds were gone.

And so was Diana.

Diana was exhausted. They had poured over everything they knew about Ra's al Ghul, had questioned Alfred multiple times, searched the Batcave repeatedly, and yet they were no closer to finding Bruce than they had been a week earlier when they first found out about Bruce's disappearance.

Every part of her was on edge. She would have always dropped everything to help find a missing teammate, but Bruce was more than that. He was her first love, her only love, and had been one of her closest friends. And this difference pierced her with guilt.

It wasn't her fault he was gone. She knew that. But she was angry that just when she was moving on, he would remind her of how little progress she had made. And of course this anger was misplaced and made her feel terrible. He couldn't very well control the timing of when a madman would try to bring him down.

A touch on her shoulder startled her. "Diana, you should get some sleep," the voice said.

Squeezing her eyes shut for a second, Diana opened them. Everything was blurry; but they still hadn't found him. "No, I can stay up for a few more hours."

"There are many people looking for him." A different voice was speaking now. Diana glanced up. J'onn was standing next to Clark.

"I know, I just don't want to go to sleep yet…Are you sure you can't locate him, J'onn?"

The Martian Manhunter nodded his head sadly. "I'm sorry, Diana, but without a location to focus on, I cannot open my mind. It's too dangerous. But when we can narrow his coordinates down, it will be the first thing I do."

Diana inhaled heavily, trying to calm herself. She had known that would be his answer; it had to be. She shouldn't have asked. It had been selfish of her.

Clark pulled her to her feet. "Come on. I will wake you the instant we hear anything."

With that promise, she finally conceded.

But Clark didn't have to wake her, because they didn't hear anything. Not for a week, not for a month, not for many months.

Every night and every morning, she prayed to her goddesses to bring him back. She pictured him, hurt and helpless somewhere, calling for her. She visualized herself finding him and taking care of him. And he would let her help him; he would let her love him.

But hope began to fade. There were no answers. Not for her.

For the media, Bruce Wayne had gone on an extended vacation, a sabbatical to explore the world. Between Nightwing, Batgirl, Robin, Superman, and Huntress, Gotham City was covered. Dick and Clark would even put in appearances as the missing hero. The world did not know he was gone. But she did, and it was becoming so very difficult to pretend as if nothing was wrong.

This was the excuse she gave for calling up Tom Tresser three months into their searching. She needed someone outside of the League, someone who didn't live and breathe every second waiting for Bruce to return.

She couldn't tell him the details, or even the generalities. Batman's disappearance was classified information. But Tom sensed something was wrong. He didn't ask, and she was grateful. Instead, Tom helped by distracting her, keeping her mind off the gaping hole in her chest. At first, he wasn't very successful, but with Tom's persistence it became easier and easier.

Diana had refused to believe Bruce could be dead; her heart would have told her if Bruce had died. But now she could entertain the possibility that he was gone. After all, they weren't even that close any more. Their connection was tenuous, if not severed.

But Tom and she were growing close. He was helping her heal, helping her picture a world and life without Bruce. To see what things would be like with Tom.

She wasn't in love with him yet, not like she had been with Bruce, but she hadn't known Tom as long. Besides, Bruce was her first love, and she doubted she would ever recapture feelings like that again. Not because any future relationship could not be as good, or better, but because people seemed to attach a certain sentimentality to first loves. Or at least that was what she had read. It was good to know, so she wouldn't hold any unrealistic expectations of her relationship with Tom. And even though she wasn't sure where this was going, she knew that Tom was a good man, one she respected and cared for. For now, that was enough.

After three months of enjoying his support, Diana decided to give Tom a chance and asked him on a date.

A/N: Thanks for reading!