Chapter Text
“No, no, no... please Zeus… ” Diana’s hushed pleas are all that bring her comfort as she sweeps through Wayne manor in search of its master. Bruce hadn’t answered any of her calls since the night prior, when he voiced his opposition to Clark overthrowing the world’s governments, and she was more than a bit concerned. Her two mates had a reputation for opposing one another but when left alone they tended to become...a bit rough. Unfortunately, Clark had more strength than he knew what to do with...and when he was upset-
No! She growls to herself. No, no matter what he would never hurt Bruce. Never…
Despite her own reassurance, which wasn’t much comfort, the amazon continued scrutinizing the manor until it led her to the omega’s bedroom. She feels a foreboding sense of doom as she approaches the door. A brief flicker of excitement comes as she detects a whiff of his scent but it dies soon after when she realizes that it’s faint...and tainted . Her hands shake as she grips the knob and twists, pushing the door open to reveal a scene out of her worst nightmare.
She finds that the lavish bedchamber is in tatters: furniture smashed and broken, splashes and spray of crimson staining the floor and walls, curtains and carpet singed and sizzling and the walled window opposite of her was obliterated. Worst of all...lying in the center of the room was a bloodied Bruce. His robe clad body was torn asunder, his right hand and left leg neatly severed and still sizzling from cauterizing heat, and the remaining limbs were twisted far past the point of comfort. Lying abandoned by his disembodied hand is a glowing green glaive and her chest grows cold. Both stormy gray orbs remained open; forever frozen in terror yet somehow still blank and lifeless. They stare at her accusingly as she approaches and closes them before bringing his broken body to her chest, hugging him close.
Traces of his distress and fear lingered in the room, souring the already unpleasant aroma of death, and Diana could detect another familiar scent amongst it. She ignores that aroma, not even willing to give chase to it, and holds her precious omega. The grief is far too fast for her to outrun and as Diana notes every detail of her love’s face the tears begin to flow freely.
Bathed in the silver glow of the moon, Bruce retained every shred of loveliness he possessed in life...like a sleeping beauty that would never again awaken. Diana cradles his face in her palm, thumbing away a trail of blood running down the left corner of his lips. Images of the larger than life billionaire flash through her mind: his rouged smile after she surprises him with a kiss, that small laugh he does when Clark inevitably manages to embarrass himself at a gathering, his tensed up but relieved stare when Alfred brings him updates on his robins— Oh god —the boys… What will she tell them? What will they do without him? She knew that Clark would be enemy number one on their lists after tonight, but they would only get themselves killed and Bruce would never forgive her if she let them die!
“Don’t worry B.” She whispers into his hair, sticky and still soft and smelling of his mahogany sandalwood shampoo. “I’ll protect them...I won’t fail them like I failed you.”
“You haven’t failed anyone D.”
Her vision goes red for a moment as Clark’s voice calls to her. She barely gives any time for the alien to descend from the air, abandoning Bruce to pounce on him, hands gripping the column of his throat. She slams him into the wall above their shared bed and squeezes . It’s useless and she knows that, her own power not being nearly enough to destroy the kryptonian by brute force, but all rational thought died with her lover. Clark’s face is blurry through her tears but she can tell that he’s been crying himself, tear trails staining his cheeks and a faded red clinging to the whites of his eyes.
“What have you done?” She spits at him, angry and accusatory. “What have you done!? ”
Clark’s hands find her hips, unsteady and trembling with uncertainty, and he tugs her closer until their chests meet. “I didn’t have a choi-”
“There’s ALWAYS a choice!” Diana screams at him, fat tears rolling down her cheeks. With a broken sob she tears her gaze away from him and to Bruce. “You...y-you…”
Crystal blue eyes plead with her when Clark directs her attention back to him, even cupping her cheek in one palm. “D-”
The amazon crumbles against his chest, chest heaving as her despair pours out like a flood, and squeezes his shoulders. “H-how could you!? ...Wh-why? Why , Clark!? H-he was-” A kiss brings her sorrows to a halt and she resents the instinctive way she leans into him, chasing comfort from the very man who destroyed her world.
When the kiss breaks and Clark’s giving her that stare—that longing gaze that makes her want to just hold him and make everything alright—Diana’s anger fades but doesn’t disappear, it’s merely overrun by sympathy and shared grief. She can smell the genuine remorse wafting from him and it softens her, urges her to provide comfort despite their shared alpha status. Their brows press together and she sighs against his lips before he steals another peck, one hand threading fingers through her hair before he playfully nuzzles against her. His other hand is used to tilt her gaze upwards, returning it to his.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry Diana...I never meant for…” his eyes suddenly break away and she realizes it’s so he can hide his own tears. “He tried to...with the— I’m sorry. ” He tells her again, so soft her ears have to strain just to pick it up.
For a moment the two merely stand there in silence, both left to their emotions and clueless on what their next move was. Diana, though consumed by rage towards the kryptonian, couldn’t bring herself to combat him and bring him to justice. Swift justice. Her fear of loneliness trumping her lust for retribution. Battling Clark would mean losing him as well...and then she’d be well and truly alone.
She drops her hands to take his, interlocking their fingers before meeting his gaze. There’s an attempt to harden her facial expression but the sympathetic glance she receives in return tells her that it was less than successful. Instead of shrinking away from her the alien comes closer, head dipping into the crevice of her neck so that his brow can brush against her gland. They share a moment of affection, exchanging scentings and little kisses, and eventually Diana is warm enough to fully embrace Clark who sweeps her off her feet.
“Let’s go.” She pleads quietly, struggling not to look at what’s left of Bruce lest she rediscover her buried rage. “I want to go.”
“Yeah.” He agrees, one last kiss finding her gland. “Let’s go.”