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Gehenna, Year 42
It was dark, the bed was comfortable, and the only sound was the rhythmic dripping of some stalactite further back in the cave. Usually that sound put him to sleep faster, but tonight it only tortured Bruce. They had made an attempt to keep track of the years, but he was starting to doubt their estimates; it could not have been forty years. There were various reasons this could not be the case: if it had been forty years Alfred would be dead; Damian would be older than Bruce was when he left for Gehenna; The Gentle Man would be very old, if not dead; Gotham would have gone years without the Bat until one of his sons had given up hope and taken on the mantle; Bruce himself should be old by now; etc. All those reasons, but none of them calmed him.
The numbers did not lie. They had counted the days, calculated it all out based on a watch they had brought before it stopped working. He got out of his bed, lit a small candle, and walked over to a desk he had built. There were pieces of parchment detailing designs for various automated machines he was hoping to build. Unfortunately, robotics were out of the question, but he had already created several Archimedean machines that had improved their lives in Gehenna. He put the designs away and pulled out a blank piece of parchment. He questioned for a moment if this redundancy was really worth the time it takes to make the parchment and ink he was about to use, but he had to know. He scratched away on the parchment with the quill, redoing all the calculations he had done years ago.
Bruce's activity woke Diana, so she in turn, got out of her bed and crossed over to the desk. "Bruce, what are you doing at this hour of the night?"
He did not answer, continuing to scratch at the animal skin. Diana leaned over his shoulder to see what he was doing and by the time she had figured it out, he had finished his calculations. His hand shook as he wrote the number on the paper: 42.137. The quill hit the desk and Bruce tore the parchment in half with a shout. Diana embraced him, realizing what that number meant.
"Alfred is dead. Dick, Tim, Damian, and Barbara are all old and wondering why I left them. Clark has lost his two best friends."
Diana was somewhat more emotionally prepared for this than Bruce, she had always known she would have to say goodbye to everyone except maybe Clark. But she always thought she would actually get to say 'goodbye'. It was a long night.
The morning brought no comfort and their sleep deprivation caused them to make several mistakes during their combat with the hordes. Part of them did not care that they were making mistakes, part of them was ready to die. Thankfully, none of their mistakes proved fatal or even resulted in much injury, but that ever-present voice urged them to make more and more mistakes, to give up, to let death bring them home. An almost bitter taste lingered in their mouths at the failure of their adversaries to overcome them. Things did not get better after they left the hordes behind them for the day. Loneliness and helplessness almost overcame them again, but they had long ago gotten used to shoving those urges down.
It was common, after having to deny themselves pleasure, for a fight to break out about something trivial. This time was no exception.
"I've been telling you for twenty years, Bruce! We need to wash the dishes immediately after eating! We don't know what kind of pests are in this world!"
"And I would agree with you, if we hadn't been pest free for decades!"
"We've been pest free because I always make you wash your dishes after eating!"
"Fine! I'm tired, I wanted to spend my remaining energy on some blueprints that will make our lives better, but if it matters so much to you-" He picked up his plate and silverware and washed them a little too vigorously.
"Thank you!"
"You don't sound very grateful!"
Diana just exhaled in frustration and slammed the door on her way out to sit on the porch. They both knew it was a stupid argument, they both knew it would blow over in no time and they would forget about it; they just needed to vent their frustration. She sat for a while on the porch as it got darker and darker. Gehenna's night moon appeared on the horizon, they called it the night moon because Bruce had calculated a while back that there was most likely another moon that would be visible during the day if the sun did not so completely outshine it. Strangely, the night moon had been in the same lunar phase their entire stay in Gehenna, and it always took the same path through the night sky; as if the heavenly bodies were suspended, unmoving while they rotated in the void.
Bruce joined her on the porch and in looking at the unchanging crescent moon as he sat next to her on the bench. He put his arm around her, an unspoken apology passing between the two.
"What are your theories on why the moon never changes?" She asked.
"Honestly, I don't know. It has to be orbiting or it would fall, but revolution implies some change in its position. I suppose it could be on a near-perfect course, that would explain it all I think. I'm no astronomer though."
"Do you think it might have something to do with the lack of seasons here?"
"Unlikely…" Bruce jumped off the bench. "Actually, you might be onto something."
Diana followed him inside and watched as he produced another piece of parchment, he was using them too fast.
"I've been trying to explain the strange phenomena of this world one at a time, but what if they all have a common cause like you suggested. The lack of seasons, the stagnant moon, my lack of aging, The Gentle Man's failure to return…"
"What would the common cause be?"
"Time dilation." He did a few calculations on the parchment. "We know there is something magical about Gehenna, what if that magic also 'speeds up' Gehenna's time? If Gehenna exists in a sort of time bubble where everything takes place much faster, then from our perspective everything outside the time bubble would be standing still. But from an outsider's perspective, everything would be normal except for Gehenna, which would be rotating extremely quickly. Unfortunately, there is no way to calculate exactly how much the time dilation would be. However, if we assume that the night moon is similar to Earth's moon-which, mind you, is a wild approximation-than at most it has only been a few days back on Earth."
Diana's ears perked up at this and suddenly she was as excited as Bruce.
"If only we had a way to calculate how far away the moon is we could get something more accurate, but alas this is the best I can do. We'll assume that at most it's been three days on Earth, here it has been forty-two years, so we're looking at a time dilation of at least 5110:1. Good news, if this is true, The Gentle Man may still come back and only a week will have passed on Earth. Bad news, we could be looking at another sixty years, or even more; there's no way to tell. We should start keeping track of how quickly the night moon is changing, it might give us a better idea."
Diana kissed the top of his head. "Thank Goodness for that brain."
"There's no way to know if this is true, Diana."
"I know, but it's hope."
"Fair enough. At least you won't have to watch me age, it's a dream come true for you."
Diana shook her head. "I never dreamed that you would join me in immortality, I dreamed that we would grow old together."
Wayne Manor, Four Days After The Gentle Man Left Gehenna
Clark slowed down, checked to make sure no one was in the area, and then sped over to the waterfall entrance to the Batcave. He had only a few moments ago heard from J'onn that Bruce and Diana had dropped off his mental radar and had immediately flown to Gotham. Alfred was descending the steps to the cave when he landed inside.
"Master Kent! How may I be of service?"
Clark did not waste time on greetings. "Do you know where Bruce and/or Diana are?"
"Yes, actually. Of course neither of them told you. How rude. You have nothing to worry about. Come upstairs, I'll make some tea and explain everything."
Alfred's words replaced Clark's concern with curiosity. "I'm so sorry Alfred, I must have startled you barging in like that."
"Don't worry, I'm used to it at this point. Come on."
After a few minutes of explanation Clark set his teacup down, his prevailing emotion now being confusion.
"So there's nothing to worry about?"
"Not in the slightest. I'm sure they'll be back with nary a scratch on them in two days."
Clark rubbed his face with his hand. "Thanks Alfred. Before I go, do you know if there is any way to communicate with them? I have a few questions for Bruce, and I'd like them answered sooner rather than later."
"Hmm. I'm not sure. If anyone would know, it would be Zatanna. She pulled them out immediately after she accidentally sent them there a few years ago. That's how they met The Gentle Man."
"Thanks again, Alfred. It's already late, so I'll go see her tomorrow."
"My pleasure, Master Kent. Let me know how it goes."
Gotham, The Day After The Gentle Man Left Gehenna
"This should be the place." Constantine gestured toward a door before leaning against the wall next to it and lighting a cigarette.
"You're sure?" Julian was practically shaking with anxiety.
Constantine rolled his eyes, stretched out his arm, and knocked on the door for him. They stood there for a minute, Julian's heart beating so loudly Constantine could almost hear it.
A voice came from inside. "I'm coming… one second…" The door opened and a 'young' woman stood in it. "I'm sorry I-" The woman's eyes went wide. "Julian? I… Oh, Julian… " She began to cry.
"Angela… I… It has… I… I don't have words." They touched each other's faces, not quite believing they were seeing each other. "My God. You're so beautiful."
They embraced and Constantine rolled his eyes again.
"Who's your friend?"
"Not a friend, a parole officer. He is to accompany me until it is time for me to go back."
"How long do you have?"
"A little over five days now." Constantine interjected. "You got a spare bed, luv? 'Fraid I can't let him out of my sight."
"Umm, yes. I'm sure I can make up something. It may not be the most comfortable thing in the world though."
Angela gestured for them to enter, and they obliged. Once Angela shut the door behind her, Constantine got to work. It did not take him long to get some basic protection spells on the house, not only to keep out unwanted guests, but to keep in the nephilim.
"What are you doing to my house?" Angela looked genuinely concerned.
"Don't worry, baby, it's his job."
"Actually, mate, it's not. As I told you, I'm an exorcist by trade, Gabriel just gave me an offer I couldn't refuse." He emblazoned a final rune on the door. "There. That should do for now, I'll need to do more tomorrow."
"What was the offer?"
Constantine froze, his back facing them. "Reconciliation. A chance to be forgiven."
Julian placed his hand on Constantine's shoulder who promptly spun around pointing an accusatory finger in Julian's face.
"You may have made nice with the big man in the sky, but that doesn't give you the right to muck around in my life. None of you bloody angels ever had that right. Now go reminisce with your pet human and leave me out of it. It will be a much more enjoyable week if you do."
Angela punched Constantine in the face. "Down the hall, first door on the left."
Constantine rubbed his nose as he walked down the hall, confident that he had thoroughly alienated the couple enough to not be bothered. The power of an angel, mixed with the volatility of love, thought Constantine, my worst nightmare.