DISCLAIMER: The Justice League of America
characters are the property of DC Comics. The story contents are the creation
and property of Djinn and are copyright (c) 2005 by Djinn. This story is Rated R.
Resigned to Nothing
by Djinn
Warning: SPOILERS for Adventures of Superman 636 and for WW issue 212.
Part 1 - Three Heroes
Diana waited outside the
Fortress. She was angry--as angry as
she'd ever been at Kal--and all she wanted to do was get in the plane and fly
away. But she knew that Bruce would need
a ride home. She'd been the one to drag
him up here; she'd be the one to get him back.
She stood in the frigid air,
barely registering the cold as the wind blew against her face. Her hair flowed around her, and as it flipped
across her ears, it changed the sounds.
In battle it could throw her off.
She'd have to start wearing it in a braid, like she had in Asgard toward
the end, after one too many monsters had grabbed her by her hair.
Would she survive Asgard
now? She thought so. She didn't think Kal would agree. Although he might like that she'd find it
harder to kill things. His stupid rule--damn him and his stupid rule.
She turned a little, so the
wind was blowing her hair straight back, and the sound regulated again. Her skin itched under the blindfold she'd put
on. She wasn't sure why she was wearing
it. Maybe for the sense of control it
gave her--the idea that she had chosen this unrelenting darkness?
She also thought it made her
fellow superheroes uncomfortable. It
wasn't very charitable of her, but she enjoyed their disquiet because she was very
angry. She felt bitter inside like
spoiled fruit, and she knew that holding it in was a mistake. She'd rot if she didn't let this rage out,
would fester until the only thing left inside her was poison--like the venom
that had made her blind in the first place.
Venom that she'd
embraced. She'd done this to
herself. She'd done it for a
reason. Blind, she could kill the
gorgon. Blind, she could triumph. It was over; it was done.
She was blind. End of story.
But it didn't have to be the
end of her story. Her sight was just one
part of her. It wasn't as if she had
nothing left to offer.
Although you wouldn't know it
from the way her colleagues were acting.
She heard Bruce coming. In the past, he might have managed to sneak
up on her. But not
now. Not when hearing was
becoming her sense of choice.
"You waited," he
said, sounding surprised.
"You stalked out not
knowing if I was still here?"
"You know me and
dramatic exits."
She turned to him. "Levity? From you?" She smiled, knew it was bitter. "Are you turning over a new leaf or just
trying to make me forget that Kal's an idiot?"
"Does it have to be one
or the other?"
She laughed. "Two jokes? This has to be a personal record."
"Can we discuss it on
the plane? I'm freezing." He took her arm, and she planted her feet.
He let go of her
immediately. "I was just being a
gentleman."
"You were going to lead
me. I don't need a guide-bat." She pushed him out of her way, moved to the
plane, which she could feel welcoming her.
It wasn't that she heard it or smelled it or even sensed vibrations from
it. She could just...feel it; she could
feel it opening up to her. Climbing the
ramp, she sat in the pilot's seat and heard Bruce take his place in the
co-pilot's seat.
"
"Now that I don't have
to sweat over how you're flying this, I guess we can talk." His voice was very gentle.
"We could talk about how
gracious you weren't...when I saved your life this evening?" She could tell he was looking at her--his
cowl made a soft shirring noise as he turned--and she shook her head at what
she knew he was thinking. "Yes, I
do know night from day, Bruce. Night has
a different feel. No sun on my
face. No birds singing. Cars sound different, people too. They laugh less, walk with more
purpose."
"They're afraid."
"Were you afraid when
that man tried to empty his gun into me?"
"I was afraid,
yes." Bruce was very quiet, no telltale squeak of fabric to tell her which way he was
looking this time.
"You were surprised that
I saved you?"
"I'm not sure about
that. I was surprised that you found me
in that alley."
"I could find you in a
haystack," she said with a smile. But
the truth of it was she wasn't exactly sure how she'd found him. She just had.
"I'm hardly a
needle." He reached over, taking
her hand and she would have jumped but she'd heard him coming.
The touch though...the touch
was unexpected. "Bruce?"
"I should have come
right after..." He sighed. "I did come, but I couldn't bring myself
to go to the door. I guess..."
"You didn't want to know
how bad it was?"
"Maybe
so. You know what a chicken I can be where my heart's involved."
"I sometimes wonder if
you have a heart." She immediately regretted
saying such a nasty thing.
He sighed, a long, slow
exhalation of breath that translated into pain.
"What's happening to us, Diana?"
"Well, other than that I
can't see your scowl, nothing."
"I don't mean you and
me. I mean us. The three of us. We're the heart of the League. I know
"You heard him in there,
Bruce. He won't kill--not even this man
who plans to kill everyone he cares about.
And what he wasn't saying directly was that he's judging me because I
did kill." She touched the
blindfold, pretending to adjust it--she found it a comfort somehow to play with
it. "And he's not just talking
about Medusa. For one thousand years, I
had to kill for him."
She could tell he was looking
at her again. In fact, she imagined she
had his full attention.
"Asgard," she said,
remembering the reverence Thor had always placed on the word. "You know the legend?"
"I do."
"Well, it's not a legend. We were there. Kal and I. Stuck there. Fighting. Over and over and over. And he still wouldn't kill. I pulled double duty."
"You and Clark were
there for a thousand years...alone?"
"We had warriors with
us." She realized what he was
getting at. "Nothing
happened."
"Right."
"I'm not
lying." She turned to him and
reached out, feeling him take her hand and squeeze it
gently. "I wouldn't lie about
that. I'm not sure I could lie about
that. You know how I feel..."
"Yes, I do." His voice was muted, as if he'd turned away,
was talking to the window. But she
hadn't heard the cowl move--he'd figured out she was tracking him that
way. Figured out and adapted. Even now he had to maintain the upper hand,
keep one step ahead of her and everyone.
Or did he not want her to know that she had just hurt him?
"Bruce? I'm sorry."
"I know he comes first
with you. It's why he makes you so
angry."
"No, him
being stupid is what makes me angry." She pulled her hand away. She could
feel the jet slowing; a slow beep-beeping told her they were within proximity
of the city. "Where do you want to
go?"
"Home
with you."
There was a very long silence
in the cockpit broken only by the beep-beeping as the plane reminded her again that
they were close to
"I'm sorry," he
said. "That was out of line."
"We had a chance. You didn't want to take it."
"I thought it was a
mutual backing off."
"It was clear you
weren't going to let it happen. What
could I do but agree?"
This time she could hear the
cowl swish. "You wanted a
relationship?"
She brushed the blindfold,
laughing bitterly. "Maybe. But what does it matter? The old Diana is gone, right? Now I'm only a remnant of myself."
"Stop it. I never said--"
"--You said I had to be
re-evaluated for membership in the League, Bruce. You said it, and everyone else is going along
with it, because we all know you're the brains of the outfit. So of course it must make sense."
"You'd do the same to
me." He brushed her cheek gently.
"No. I wouldn't." She pushed his hand away. "Where do you want to go, Bruce?"
She could hear him moving
closer, could imagine his lips on hers the way he'd kissed her before, when
they'd faced what had seemed to be their final stand. She put her hand out, landing unerringly on
his lips, and whispered, "Be careful, Mister Wayne. I might actually need you. Might want something from you other than this
careful friendship we've worked so hard at."
He kissed her fingers, then pulled her to him.
"Diana," his voice came out raspy, as if breath had deserted
him.
She let him pull her closer,
even dropped her fingers. But as she
felt him moving in, she whispered, "Do this after I've passed your stupid
tests. Not now."
He stopped. Slowly, she moved away.
"If you don't want me, all
you have to do is say so." His tone
was falsely light. The
playboy saving face.
"I thought I just
did."
She knew she'd scored a hit.
The air in the cockpit practically oozed pain.
"Tell me something, Bruce.
Will we play bullets and bracelets during this 'reevaluation'?"
She heard him swallow.
"Will you be the one to
pull the trigger?" She leaned in
quicker--quicker than he would be expecting--and pulled him to her.
He didn't fight, didn't say a
thing, just wrapped his arms around her and let her kiss him. Her lips were hard, fierce. Anger coming out. Anger for not being able to
see him, anger for little Martin who would never see or do anything again
because she had been too late to save him from the monster. Anger at Kal for judging
her for killing that same monster, and at Athena who could fix this if she
wanted to, and at the world for having watched her fall--and get back up.
Bruce let her work her pain
out on him. Holding her, his hands tight
on her arms, he didn't fight her, just gave in and gave back whatever she
needed. When she opened her mouth to
him, he let her in, answering her anger and turning it into passion.
She pulled away quickly, knowing
that if she didn't, she would let him in and admit that she was terrified. That she was hurt and angry and lonely. That above all else she wanted her mother to
be there, to not be dead. Wanted to feel her mother's hands on her forehead, the soft voice
saying, "There, there," as she had when Diana was a child.
She felt his hands on her
hair, brushing it back gently in an uncanny echo of how Hippolyta might have
done it. "I'm only going to say
this once, Diana. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything that's happened."
She nodded, unwilling to risk
trying to answer.
"And I'm here for
you. If you need me, I'm here."
"Here? In a city you told me to get out of
earlier?"
"That was then. Now, my city is yours. If you need me, you come. Or you call, and I'll come." His lips touched hers again, this time the
kiss was sweet and gentle and it nearly broke her in two--she thought he knew
it would. "I love you," he
said, as he kissed her forehead over the blindfold. Then he let go of her. "You can drop me off here."
"You heard him,"
she told the plane. "Land."
It descended, taking them out
of the scary intimate place that the ride had become. She could feel the pressure changing as they
moved toward the ground, could hear him getting up. He didn't touch her again, and she felt a
rush of air as the plane created a door for him.
"Goodbye," he
murmured, and then the air pressure changed again as the door closed and the plane
ascended.
"Take me home," she
said, wondering where the plane would think she meant. She decided she didn't want to know what it
thought she meant. "Take me to the
embassy. Fly
slow."
She reached up, taking off
the blindfold and putting it on the co-pilot's seat. Then, in the safety of her empty plane, she
wept.
Part 2 - The Test
Diana could hear the rest of
the JLAers leaving the room. But the one holding the gun hadn't
moved. She heard him sigh, recognized the
sound, but she'd known it was Kal shooting at her. Known it with every fiber
of her being. Plus, she could count
how many opponents Bruce had thrown at her, and Kal hadn't been on the floor
with her.
Had Bruce planned this all
along? Or had she given him the idea
when she'd asked him about bullets and bracelets on the plane? And was it a measure of how much Bruce valued
her or how much he resented Kal that he'd made Superman be the one to fire at
her? Superman who
never killed--and who could have killed her right then. But Bruce had known she could fight one
bullet off. He'd seen her deflect many
more than just one.
But Kal hadn't known she could still do that.
Kal had fired at her not knowing if he would hit her or not. And it was probably killing him.
She found she didn't
care. Turning to him, she took a step.
"Diana..."
She waited, but he didn't follow
it up, so she said, "Answer me this, Kal.
If our positions were reversed, would he have tested you, as well?"
He moved closer to her, and
she could smell him, the spicy tang of his skin. She'd spent a thousand years with him; she'd
recognize him anywhere now.
"If our positions were
reversed, Diana, I'd have already resigned from the League."
She turned away, felt the
familiar anger fill her. She was getting
used to it now, becoming adept at pushing it deep down inside her. But he seemed to call it out of her with no
effort.
He pressed the gun into her
hand. "I'll see you upstairs."
She heard him walk away. Her hand tightened as she tried to squeeze
out the warmth that lingered on the gun from his hand. He'd touched her as he'd put it in her
hand. It was the first time he'd touched
her since the fight with Medusa.
She squeezed down hard,
crushing the gun, dropping the pieces on the floor. "Damn you, Kal."
She could hear him stop
walking. Then she felt his eyes on
her. He thought he could watch her and
she wouldn't know?
"Damn you." She stalked forward. "You didn't fight me. Why not?"
"Diana, don't."
"Close the doors. Lock them." The doors slammed shut; she could hear the
locking mechanism slip into place.
"We're alone here."
"No. The camera is on."
She turned and walked back,
counting the steps. Bending, she scooped
up a fragment of the gun. "Camera?"
She threw the piece hard--very, very hard--and heard glass
exploding. She bent for another shard, a
bigger one this time. She threw it too,
and the sound of metal crunching rang out.
"What camera, Kal?"
"That's coming out of
your paycheck." He sounded like he
was desperately trying to find light ground--safe ground.
"We don't get a
paycheck." She walked back to
him. "Fight me."
"Diana,
no."
Her first punch landed
squarely on his chin. She could hear his
grunt; it was full of surprise and maybe a little pain. He didn't hit back.
"Fight me, damn
you." She landed another punch, and
another.
He finally grabbed her hands,
kicking her legs out from under her, using his momentum to push her back onto
the floor. She turned her fall into a
controlled roll, jerking him over her head and following him, landing on top of
him. Straddling him, she hit him in the
face again.
He kicked her off him.
She went flying, landing hard
on the floor and laughed. "Finally. You
grow a pair."
"Diana. Don't. It hasn't been a good few months for me."
"For
you?" As she pushed herself to her feet and stalked
back to him, she remembered Lois had been shot.
She should remember--she'd flown her in her plane. Two months ago now. Lois was taking a long time to recover. Not super, this wife of his. Not a wonder who
could get up from the battlefield and ride back home blind. On the other hand,
Lois hadn't had Pegasus come to her rescue.
"Did you watch my fight with Medusa from Lois's sickbed?" She swung, heard him jerk out of range, felt
the rush of air as he moved and corrected for her next swing. "Did she hope I'd die?"
"Diana,
for God's sake."
"I didn't hope she'd
die." It was true. She'd never meant Lois any harm, had never
meant to fall in love with Kal. And
she'd always had this part of him that Lois couldn't. She'd fought beside him, was his trusted
second, and everyone in the League knew it.
And now that was all
gone. Because he was
throwing her away.
She launched herself at him,
correcting by feel as he zigged and zagged to get away from him. She hit him hard, barreling into his chest,
forcing him against the far wall. He hit
it with a groan, and she didn't jump off him, just wrapped herself around him,
her hands tangling in his hair, pulling his head back. "I. Hate.
You."
Her voice caught on the last word.
"Diana." His voice held a note of helplessness. He stopped trying to push her off, started to
pull her closer. "Diana." He was brushing her hair back, his hands
running over the blindfold, touching it gently as if he was memorizing how her
face felt with it on. "I wanted to
come to you. But Lois was hurt so
badly..."
She could hear the agony in
his voice, and the anger went out of her as it always did when he let her in
enough to see his pain. "I
know."
"But I..."
She leaned into his
hands. "You flew by a number of
times. Did you think I wouldn't know you
were out there?"
"I should have known, I
guess." His hands moved down, to
her cheeks, then her chin. His fingers
ran over her lips. "I didn't think
I would be able to leave you if I came inside, and she needed me more."
She nodded. It was no doubt true. But it still had hurt when he hadn't
come. She'd thought that he would. He always had in the past.
"You wouldn't resign
from the League, Kal. Not for
this." She touched his face,
learning to read it as she'd tried to at the Fortress when he'd called Bruce
and her to him. There hadn't been time--and
she'd been too angry at him then--but now there was.
He sighed, allowing her to
get to know the planes and valleys of his face.
When she touched his lips, he let out a small, tortured cry.
"If you lost your
strength but could still fly, could still melt things and hear me from the
other side of the planet, would you resign?" She let her fingers tickle his lips. "This is just one part of me that's
gone."
"I can't stand the
thought of anything happening to you."
The feel of his lips moving under her fingers was unexpectedly sensual.
"What's the worse that could happen to me, Kal?"
"You could die."
"I've died. You've died.
It's not as terminal as it appears."
"Don't joke about
it. Don't ever joke about it." He turned abruptly, reversing their
positions, and her back pressed painfully into the wall.
She realized he was giving
that to her, not taking it easy on her. "I
won't joke about it, if you quit acting like I'm not capable anymore."
"I wasn't."
"I heard the gun,
Kal. Before you fired. You gave me that,
didn't you?"
His silence was answer
enough.
"Only Bruce trusts me
enough to really test me."
"It's not trust,
Diana." He pushed her harder
against the wall. "We both love you
in our own way."
She tried to answer, opened
her mouth, but couldn't speak because he was kissing her, his mouth hard--his
kiss seemed full of anger and frustration.
But as she relaxed against him and tried to pull him even closer, his kisses
changed, became sweet and tender.
He pulled away slowly. "I look at you and I feel like I'm
dying. I can't protect you, Diana."
"You don't need to
protect me. We'll do much better if you
remember that."
The loudspeaker went off,
Bruce's voice booming around the room.
"Superman, we're waiting. Is
there a problem?"
"No. No problem.
I'll be right there."
"Is there something
wrong with the camera?"
"The bullet ricocheted
into it," Kal said quickly, and she smiled at his deviousness.
"Bruce-worthy," she
whispered and reached up, reading his smile.
It felt how she remembered it looking, sweet and open and full of desire
he usually kept better in check.
"I don't remember it
happening that way," Bruce said.
"I got mad and destroyed
it." Diana smiled. It wasn't a lie.
"That I buy. Hurry up, Superman." Bruce's voice was mildly amused.
Kal leaned in and kissed her
again. "I shouldn't do that."
She kissed him back. "No, you shouldn't."
"I won't stand against
your continued membership if that's what the rest of them want." He sounded as if the assurance broke his
heart. "It's all I can
promise."
"It's enough." She leaned in, hugging him. "Promise me you'll spar with me? I need to stay sharp."
"I can't."
"Why
not?"
He pressed against her and
for a moment she could feel every inch of him.
"Because I'll want to do this." He let go of her, pulling away slowly. "Train with Bruce."
"Maybe he wants to do
that too." It wasn't nice, but it
was truth.
She could hear Kal swallow
hard. "Oh, I know he does."
"And
what? You're giving me to him?" She felt the anger rising again.
"I don't know what I'm
doing anymore." He walked away, his
steps heavy.
She imagined it was hard to
be Superman in a not-so-super world.
She heard the door open and
paced around the room, waiting for her friends to decide if she still had worth
in their eyes. Waiting
to find out if she still mattered to the League.
If they voted her out, she
wouldn't just retire. She still had a
job to do, a mission in this world. Either at their sides or on her own. It didn't matter.
And maybe that's what they
needed to know? That she didn't
care. That she could take them or leave
them.
She walked out of the room, heading for the stairs. Ready to take her destiny back into her
hands, the same way she'd done when she'd held Medusa's serpent to her eyes and
watched the world go black in a blur of raging pain.
This couldn't hurt any worse--couldn't
be any scarier--than that had been. It
just couldn't.
But as she walked up to the
conference room, as she heard them arguing, she knew that losing the League
would hurt much, much worse than losing her sight had.
She wouldn't show them that
though. Her back straight, her head
high, she walked toward the conference room and toward her future.
FIN