Shattered

Diana flopped back in her bed against the pillows piled behind her with a huff of abject frustration and agitation. Four days until she'd finally be free to get around like a regular person instead of being restricted to her quarters like some common criminal.

Four…whole…days.

She had to admit being confined to her quarters was far better than being in the infirmary. She wrinkled up her nose with the thought of such a horrible punishment. She'd already spent a day there, being paroled to her quarters this morning only because she'd begged J'onn to let her out. The Martian Manhunter ultimately agreed as long as she promised to behave herself and follow the restrictions that he had outlined for her.

She silently cursed Mongul as she looked down at her right leg fully encased in a white cast from mid-foot to mid-thigh, her bright red toenails staring back at her. She didn't know who she was more furious with—Mongul for returning to Earth to get revenge on them or herself for allowing him to get a hold of her leg.

Now, her right leg was shattered, requiring a cast for the next four days until her superior healing had time to knit the bones back together again. She huffed a raven curl out of her line of sight as she looked around her bed, ignoring the throbbing pain in her leg and her equally wounded pride.

Flash had brought a pile of DVD's to keep her entertained, Shayera a stack of magazines, John a book on military strategies, and Kal a basket of her favorite snacks. Batman was the only one of the founders who hadn't been by to visit her yet.

The Dark Knight had been the one who had carried her to the infirmary right after the battle, basically dumping her off on one of the medical beds with a growl of some sort before abruptly turning on his heel and storming out just as quickly as they had arrived.

Diana folded her arms against her chest with a huff and a scowl as she glared at the television screen on the opposite wall, ignoring the newsfeed that showed the Justice League's fight against Mongul. It had been a brutal fight for all involved, causing a lot of destruction.

It made no sense to her why Bruce was so furious with her. She wasn't the only one who had sustained injuries in that fight. Flash had a fractured clavicle that required him to wear a sling on his arm. Kal had taken quite a beating, one that had left him walking with a limp. She knew that Bruce had received a chest contusion from being thrown into a wall, but he wouldn't accept any treatment let alone acknowledge the fact that he'd even been injured.

Tilting her head back, she glared at the ceiling, thinking that maybe she would try to take a shower. The hard part was trying to figure out how to be in the shower without her casted leg getting all wet. She really wanted to try to sneak down to the training room and pummel some training droids in order to burn off some of her anger and frustration.

With a muttered curse, she flipped the covers off her and scooted to the edge of her bed. She paused to catch her breath, ignoring the pain that pulsated through her broken leg with the sudden change in position. Standing up on one foot, she began to hobble towards the door of her quarters when it suddenly slid open.

"What in hell do you think you're doing?"

"Nothing," she insolently claimed, lifting her chin in utter defiance as she folded her arms against her chest with all the haughty dignity she could possibly muster in her current pitiful state.

"You are supposed to be in bed, princess," he heatedly growled as he stalked towards her.

Without a word or barely a pause in step, he swiftly bent over and swept her up into his arms before carrying her back towards her bed. "Put me down, Bruce!" Diana angrily spat out, glaring daggers at him in the most threatening look he'd received from her in quite some time.

He gently placed her back in her bed and pulled the covers over her, ignoring how sexy she looked in her little tank top and shorts. He carefully lifted her casted leg up with both hands, placing it on pillows while the while ignoring how the Amazon princess was still trying to incinerate him with her eyes alone.

He knew that she was angry with him for dumping her off in the infirmary like he had, and she had every right. What she didn't know was that he'd been outside of his mind when Mongul had slammed her into the ground, taking her leg and breaking it like he had. Bruce swore he'd never forget the sound of her leg shattering or how Mongul had picked her up by her broken leg and tossed her aside like a rag doll into the side of the brick building.

Bruce knew that he had taken his fury out on Diana and he needed to make it up to her. He had called J'onn an hour after taking her to the infirmary to check up on her and then just about every single hour after that much to J'onn's growing annoyance. Regaining some semblance of control over his emotions once more, he had finally decided it was time to come see her.

He sat down on the edge of her bed, pushing his cowl off his head and removing his gauntlets. He looked down at her casted leg, grinding his teeth with the sight of it broken. He never wanted to see her hurt or injured like that ever again. It caused a copious well of feelings that he didn't know how to deal with nor did he want to, but somehow, she always seemed to push him into it.

"How's your leg?"

"It itches," she replied with a petulant frown, clearly angry with him.

"That's not unusual," he told her. "Just don't stick a butter knife down your cast to try to scratch it."

Diana's expression softened somewhat with the curiosity that abruptly replaced her annoyance. "Why not?"

"First of all, it doesn't really help and secondly, it can cause a sore beneath your cast."

The corner of Diana's lips quirked with the unexpected revelation. "You sound as if you speak from experience," she insightfully replied. "So, just how many broken bones have you suffered through, Mister Wayne?"

"As Bruce or as Batman?"

"You're the same person so both."

He tilted his head slightly, amused and intrigued at the same time with how she viewed him. "Far too many to recount," he revealed, his own curiosity piqued. "So, you don't see me as just Batman—cold and dark…a vortex that sucks all the light and life out of the world?"

Her forehead creased as she thought about her response. "You are not like that, Bruce," she insisted, sitting forward and taking his hand in hers. "Bruce is who you are, but Batman is what you do…the avenue you chose to use to keep your promise to your parents."

"And what about the playboy?" he asked, glancing down at their laced fingers.

She smiled softly, shaking her head and causing a couple of raven strands to fall free from her messy ponytail. "He's not real…not the real you anyway," she insisted. "He's just a means to an end…another avenue you use to protect yourself and those you care most about…a way to further your mission.

"You know I have seen glimpses of the real you at times though I know you try not to let him out. The real you is buried in here, hidden beneath your scars. I think that you're just so used to having to hide it that you don't know how to let the real you out."

Diana placed her hand over his heart, feeling it's steady beat beneath her palm. Bruce found himself leaning towards her, more than interested in what she saw in him. He had never cared what people had thought of him, always focused on more important things and never worrying about something so insignificant as everyone's perception of him or whether they liked him or not. The only thing that ever mattered to him was the mission and everything related to it.

With her, though, everything took on a whole new significance, one that was most important to him.

"Interesting assessment, princess," he huskily replied as his gaze fell to her lips that he was desperate to kiss. It was both unnerving and a relief that someone actually knew him so well and yet she still seemed to care for him despite what she saw inside of him.

Her lips curled as her eyes fell to his mouth. "Not wrong either," she pointed out.

"I plead the fifth," he murmured, his piercing gaze falling to her lips as well.

"I know you were injured too in the battle with Mongul and don't try to deny it," she told him. "You just didn't get the privilege of being treated in the infirmary."

"I know how to escape without capture," he teased, his hand coming to rest on the bed on other side of her outstretched legs.

"I have a first aid kit if you'd like me to take a look for you," she offered with a flirty lilt to her voice.

"That could be pretty dangerous, princess."

Diana's raven eyebrow quirked with amusement mingled with inquisitiveness. "How so?"

"If I take my uniform top off, I don't think you'll be able to control yourself," he replied, his blue eyes darkening. "You might try to assault me. We can't have that, now can we?"

Diana's lilting laughter rang through the air like beautiful music as she inclined her head towards him. "You sure are quite full of yourself, aren't you?"

"Just giving you fair warning, princess," he innocently maintained. "I'm trying to protect you from yourself. I wouldn't want you regretting anything later if you can't control yourself."

"I don't need protection, Bruce," she told him, her lips hovering so dangerously close to his. "Besides, maybe I want to lose control."

Bruce swallowed hard, trying to banish the lustful image that just popped into his head. "What if I want you to lose control too?"

"Well, then I guess—"

Bruce closed the distance between them, his lips swiftly finding hers and effectively silencing her. She sighed contentedly as she kissed him back, her arms slipping around his neck and drawing him closer. She happily decided that it was well worth having her leg shattered if this was the end result.

Careful of her leg, Bruce pushed her back, pinning her against her pile of pillows as he devoured her. He could hardly believe that he was kissing her…showing her what he felt for her, but he couldn't help himself any longer. Mongul's attack on her had reminded him how easily he could lose her. It had finally opened his eyes as well as his heart.

His hand moved to cup the side of her face as he pressed his forehead against hers, his nose brushing against hers. "You scared me half to death yesterday," he breathlessly confessed. "I thought Mongul was going to try to kill you again."

"I'm a lot stronger than I look," she lightly teased.

He smiled softly at her, moving to press his forehead against her bruised cheekbone and releasing a shuddering breath. Diana stroked his hair as they held on to one another, her fingers repetitively caressing the nape of his neck.

She felt a tremble roll through his body, breaking her heart. "It's okay, Bruce…I'm okay."

He tightened his hold on her, his embrace nearly crushing her, but she wasn't just some ordinary woman. She was Wonder Woman and she had managed to accomplish the impossible. She had found a way to put a shattered heart back together again.

"I think I better stay here to make sure that you behave yourself," he told her as he pulled back. "There's no telling what trouble you'll get yourself into."

"You might as well get comfortable then because I'm afraid I'm stuck here for another four days."

Bruce stood to his feet, removing his boots and uniform top, but he decided to leave his pants on. While he would've loved to strip down to his boxer briefs, he knew that he couldn't let things go too far with Diana still recovering from her injuries.

He made his way to the other side of the bed, crawling in beside her. Settling back against the pillows, he pulled her into his arms, Diana shifting to rest against his side. "Is there anything you need?" he asked.

"I have all I need right here," she replied, her hand stroking his chest.