Disclaimer/Summary: See chapter one.

Note: Okay, this is the last chapter! WARNING: OC SUICIDE!

Happy Reading, Enjoy!

Chapter 16: Curse you to Hell and back

Mr. Terrific materialized in the center of Times Square, but it no longer deserved that title, because this part of the city had turned into a war zone. Buildings and billboards had collapsed, people were trapped inside screaming, and the stench of blood and ash hung in the air. Debris flew and sounds akin to explosions echoed through the thick dust. Heroes and villains alike were engaged in heavy combat, each trying to overpower the other.

Mr. Terrific charged forward and knocked a man in black to the ground, he forced two of his T-spheres into the man's gut, and suddenly two charged bully sticks caused the man to convulse. A long staff then smashed into the back of the man's head as his body lurched. Mr. Terrific watched as the two bats chased down another man in black who was fighting a heavily bleeding Dove. Terrific marked the unconscious man and contacted Watchtower, he made sure the body vanished before following the two bats.

As he dodged a swipe for his face Terrific noticed this man seemed faster and more agile than the other. Terrific took two fists to his left side and wheezed as he stumbled backward. As the man bared down on him the two bats increased their attacks but the man still gained on him. And then he vanished. Superman dove into the ground with the man thrown over one shoulder.

Nightwing gripped Terrific's forearm and pulled the man to his feet, it was then that Terrific noticed the state of the two vigilantes. Both were bleeding, tears in their costumes exposing cut flesh, as he examined the others he notice everyone sported injuries. A few heroes lay prone in the street.

Terrific turned back to the bats, but the wind left his lungs and spots consumed his vision as he regained his balance. Stone crumbled around him and he dropped to his knees as a man in black stood over him. His T-spheres flew towards him and he directed them to the man's temples. The heavy spheres slammed into the man's temples causing him to stagger. Terrific pushed to his feet and knocked the man backwards.

Moments later Terrific was trying to comprehend what had happened as he watched the man in black walk away laughing; from his position on the ground the man quickly exited his field of vision and Terrific felt darkness seep into his mind.

"Get up!"

The voice was gruff and demanding, and Terrific felt himself being moved. Trying to clear his head Terrific slowly worked his way to his feet with the help of Nightwing. "Didn't last very long did you?"

Terrific could only grunt as he and Nightwing made a half run towards a building with a gaping hole in the side of it.

"Hurry up Wing."

"If you helped this would go faster sis."

The female bat shook her head and went in search of a fight.

Terrific muttered, "Okay."

Nightwing gave Terrific a sidelong glance. "Concussion?"

Terrific grunted through the pain in his head and the throbbing in his side, "He.. " Terrific gritted his teeth and looked down at his side, spots swam in his vision again.

"Don't look at it, it will make the pain worse." Nightwing commented.

However, Terrific could not look away, he'd never seen his own bones, so to see three of his ribs sticking out of his side was a hard site to comprehend.

Nightwing finally lowered Terrific to the ground in a foyer of some sort, "Stay here." As Nightwing made to leave Terrific grabbed his arm, but the bat quickly pulled out of the grip when he heard his sister's yell from outside.

Terrific shifted until he lay on his side and slowly began to pull himself forward toward the opposite side of the building. It was a slow and agonizing process, his vision often swam with tears at the pain in his right side.

When the pain forced Terrific to stop, he looked toward his exit and saw three bodies within the rubble that was once a wall. Two more bodies lay close by, and based on how the blood had pooled beneath them Terrific would believe head trauma to be the cause of death.

Breathing heavily Terrific forced himself to continue sliding along the floor. Again he had to stop but this time because a red and blue blur smashed through the ceiling above him.

Superman was able to right himself before he hit the floor and shot out of one of the many holes in the walls. Flying higher so her could survey the battle from above, Superman paused staring down at the ruin below. He was tired, for the first time in a long time; he hadn't been this tired from a fight alone, since Darkseid had come to Earth two years ago. He had been fighting all morning, and these men in black, who ever they were would not stop until dead or unconscious, and forcing them into unconsciousness was proving to be difficult. Thus far fourteen of the men had been knocked out or killed by debris and collapsing buildings. From Clark's count at least twelve remained, if not more. And it was proving even more difficult to fight these men. Heroes were injured and fighting on their last legs, and Clark hadn't seem many of his companions in awhile, he didn't know their state.

A roar sounded below and two men in black were leaping up the side of a building to get to him. Superman bolted towards them and clamped his arms around the waist of one, tearing him off of the side of the building and diving towards the ground. The concrete gave into the force and they created a small crater. Superman pulled himself up and climbed out of the ground, only to see a fist coming at his face. The force of the blow knocked him backwards and it took him a moment to pull himself from the rubbled.

The men charged him, he moved to dodge them, however one of the men caught his should and used his momentum to slam him into the ground. Clark rolled into a kneeling position, bringing himself to a stop before one of the men. He sent his fists into the man's side, but they were neatly dodged. And when he threw a third punch at the man's face a hand met his throat and picked him up off the ground. He felt the other man grab him at the shoulder and waist from behind, a moment later his short flight ended as he met yet another wall that crumpled against the force.

A man leapt at him and he met him mid flight forcing both of them back into the open. However, Clark felt his momentum come to a complete and sudden halt as two hands gripped his ankles, before he was smashed into the ground yet again. Clark grunted. He was sick of his face meeting the asphalt. Kicking his feet up, the momentum of the kip brought him back and almost to his feet, but a foot meet his ribs and he skipped across the ground until the foot of the other man pushed him into the ground. Where yet again asphalt was forced into his face.

He saw a fist coming toward his face and moved, he reached up and caught the man's forearm and swung him into his counterpart knocking the other man across the road. Pushing off of the ground Clark carried the other man towards the far end of the street before smashing his face into asphalt getting a sick satisfaction from the sound. A fist met his jaw and he staggered backwards. The man helped the other to a standing position and they grinned to one another. Clark watched as one man threw his companion towards Clark, fists ready to deliver a devastating blow.

Clark moved out of the way at the last second and took pause when he saw the quarterback stare angrily. He looked over his shoulder and saw that the man he'd dodged had impaled himself on a broken street sign, blood bubbled from his mouth and he stared, blinking at the sign that had struck him through the gut and protruded out of his back.

"Superman!"

Clark turned just in time to see the other man charge towards him. Clark grabbed his collar as he passed and threw him into a building. The windows midway up the build smashed as the body met them hard. Clark waited for the man to appear again but after a minute nothing appeared in the dust so Clark turned to find who had called to him in warning.

Mr. Terrific stood stooped near a ruined building, his hand was on his side and from where he was Clark could tell there was blood. Clark was before the man in moments.

"You have to take care of this.. we have.. bigger things to deal with.."

"What are you talking about?"

"Just get these guys taken care of.. we have a bigger problem.." Terrific slide down the wall and Clark assisted him to the ground. "..worldwide.. panic.."

"What?!"

Terrific pressed his hand to his ear, "Terrific to.. Watchtower.. one for trans—transport."

Clark growled as Terrific vanished. But based on this new information he need to act quickly.

Terrific appeared on one of the blue circles and when one of the techs noticed the blood his weight was immediately taken up as one man threw his arm over his shoulder. Another tech made to do the same but Terrific shook his head, "Get me up to the monitors, and call for a medical team."

The two workers nodded, and after twelve blinding stairs and one painful elevator ride, Terrific was situated in his chair once more. "How.. how are the others doing?"

"We've delivered the first drop to London. Atom's said the next batch is nearly ready."

"Causalities?"

"The numbers are increasing by the second, we've had two more cities call in."

Terrific closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. "Keep me updated."

"Sir!"

Hurried footsteps echoed on the metal floor and Terrific saw a gurney and four medical personal fast approaching. "Symptoms?" The doctor asked.

Terrific lifted his hand, "I've l—lost a lot of blood, probably have a slight concussion."

Once his hand was no longer obscuring the view the doctor muttered under his breath, "Shit. This is going to take some work."

"Sir the Flash says they've found and marked everyone at the evacuation site. What is our next action?"

"Sir?"

A gurgled yell echoed off the monitors and everyone turned to look at Terrific, the doctor had his hands on the three ribs that protruded, "This will hurt."

"Wai-" The word was replaced with another yelled of absolute pain as the doctor pushed the ribs in-and-down. Terrific's head lulled onto his chest as the pain blackened his mind and unconsciousness took him.

"Give him a morphine drip, half a dose."

Two of the medical personal followed the orders, while the third scrubbed the open wound for sterilization. Terrific emitted a groan at the pain. The doctor began to prep a surgical needle and waited as the third hand finished moping up the excess blood around the wound. The stitches were small, clean, and straight and the doctor was done in just a few minutes.

Terrific came round as the doctor tied off the last of the stitches, he blinked and shook his head, he saw the morphine drip.

"It's half the regular dose," the doctor said answering his unspoken question.

"Thank you Gene."

The man nodded, and began to pack up the tools and equipment that he had brought with him, "I'll leave Sam with you, if you need anything you know where we are."

Terrific nodded and thanked the four once again, before turning back to the monitors.

"Sir, the evacuation site is clear."

Terrific groaned as he adjusted himself in the chair and the medical personal, Sam, helped his shift. "Send them to Cairo, and patch me through to Dr. Fate."

"This is Watchtower 3-Alpha, go if you can hear me." Momentary static filtered through the speakers.

"Dr. Fate speaking."

"I'm sending you to Cairo, I need you to provide a shield for the Flash so he will be protected, much of their attacks have already been dealt to the most populated parts of the city."

"Understood, I shall take care of it."

The line cut out and Terrific faced the monitors displaying a ruined Manhattan that was still crumbling from its beating. Other large cities were displayed on the monitors.

Terrific stayed in his chair with Sam occasionally checking his vitals. The workers around him changed shifts, and the MetroTower was overflowing with wounded heroes, so much so that they had begun transporting them to the Watchtower, thus far seven heroes had been rushed into the medbay.

Near five o'clock New York had been taken care of, in the sense that no more men in black were wrought on destroying the city.

Many of the heroes who had been in the city had been patched up and sent to other cites. The antibiotic had been delivered via javelins to each of the affected cities, but many of the larger cities in South America had yet to receive any of the drug. The MetroTower was producing it as fast as they could, but it was not fast enough. The death toll was high already, and it steadily grew, though aid had been sent to the large cities it was difficult to tell who was affected.

Teriffic rested his head against the back of his chair and watched as the panic continued to spread across all his monitors. They were doing all they could at this point, so now he had to wait—to wait and watch.

Sam began checking his vitals when a tech burst through the doors. "Mr. Terrific, sir!"

Terrific looked to the out of breath tech, "Report."

"We've finally uncoded the information, the additional encryption provided a base point. We know where they're working from."

Terrific immediately felt adrenaline surge through his body, "Enter the coordinates into the teleporter system. One of you get me Superman, Donna, and Cyborg on the line stat."

"This is Watchtower 6-Alpha to Superman, Donna, and Cyborg, go if you can hear me."

"This is Superman, I read you."

"shhkkk—is Cyborg and Donn—shhkk—ignals weak."

"This is Terrific speaking, we've located home base, are you good for transport?"

"Superman to Watchtower, good for transport."

"Transport one."

"Watchtower to Cyborg, do you read us?"

"Watchtower to Cy-"

"-read you. Repeat!"

"Clear up that signal now!"

"Working on it."

"This is Watchtower 6-Alpha to Cyborg do you read us?"

"Cyborg to 6-Alpha we read you."

"6-Alpha to Cyborg, we've located the origin point, recon team needed, are you go for transport."

"Cyborg to 6-Alpha, we are not go for transport."

"Shit." Terrific turned to two other workers, "Do we have any heavy hitters and hats available?"

"I've got two level twos, and a level three, but all the hats are in the cities."

"Can we switch out the twos for a four or five?"

"There's a four in Rio-"

Terrific shook his head, "Not South America, we've only just begun to provide aid there."

"St. Petersburg is floating a level five, we can get-"

"Cyborg to Watchtower 6-Alpha, we are go for transport."

"Two for transport, and make it now."

"Watchtower 6-Alpha to Cyborg, we read you, over an out."

"Two for transport."

Clark floated through the overgrown viewing bunker, pausing when he heard Cyborg and Donna coming down the concrete steps to join him.

"Find anything yet?"

Clark shook his head, "Most of these old bunkers are lined with lead, I couldn't hear anything either."

"There is likely a blast shield door some where further in, I'll see if Watchtower can get us the schematics on this place."

Clark nodded and set down to his feet, following as Donna lead them further into the overgrown concrete bunker. Shortly thereafter Clark's superhearing picked up a slow, but steady drip. He paused and concentrated on finding the origin of the sound, which quickly grew in volume as he listened.

Clark turned to Donna who had also stopped, "You're bleeding."

"It's nothing."

Clark gave the heroine a quick once over.

Donna recognized what he was do, "I said it was nothing!"

"Donna you have-"

"I don't want to know Clark. I've had worse, lets keep going."

Clark narrowed his eye on the back of Donna's head as she continued down the darkening corridor. Stubborn Amazons. One would think they were related to the Bats.

"I've just received the schematics, according to this we are almost to the-"

"-door?" Donna finished.

Cyborg glanced at the staircase that lead to a door, "Yes."

"Do you think it has any security?" Donna asked as she descend the steps.

"I'll check, but I doubt it, this place is too remote to even need it. And the lead-lining makes it impossible to pick up on heat or electronic signatures." Stepping forward Cyborg pressed his hand to the frame and began to send a very small vibration through his hand and the door. After a few moments he shook his head, "Nothing."

Clark eyed the door, "The double combinations?"

"Need to be done at the same time, I've got the codes, if you'll take the left and Donna the right." Cyborg watched as the both moved into position. "03-44-25 for the left and 57-31-42 for the right." The two powerhouses began to rotate their combinations simultaneously as Cyborg watched, when they reached the last number Cyborg stepped forward and gripped the wheel on the door. When the last numbers clicked he attempted to rotate the wheel.

"Shit!"

Donna reached forward and grabbed the wheel from the bottom and pulled up with all her might, while Cyborg's hydraulic locking mechanisms activated so they wouldn't slip as he pushed downward.

"Fuck."

"Hang on." Clark punched the steel wall creating a dent and allowing him enough room to dig his fingers into the width of the door itself. He gave a powerful tug and the door came loose with half of the wall still attached. Propping the whole piece carefully against the intact part of the wall, Clark and the others examined it.

"The locks were so old they didn't release any of the bolts." Cyborg explained pointing to where numerous five inch steel rods stuck out from the would-be door.

Donna shrugged and ducked through the gap and into the corridor beyond with Clark and Cyborg following.

Cyborg's flash light turned on and provided them with a light source, the corridor was empty, and covered in a thick layer of dust, as they walked small clouds rose around their feet before settling back to the floor.

"They must use an exhaust tunnel to get in and out."

Cyborg nodded, and glanced down at his arm, "Can you hear anything now?"

They all paused as Clark listened, they were silence for a long period, and Clark frowned. "I—wait, I think I have something." Unconsciously Clark lifted off the ground and floated forward a few yards to a junction in the hall. "Computers, and people.. sixteen, no seventeen." Clark dropped back to the ground, "Their deep, maybe a hundred feet down."

Cyborg nodded, "That means they're either on the ninth or tenth floor, I can get us there." Taking the lead Cyborg followed the maze of corridors and stairs that allowed them to descend further into the bunker. Upon reaching the ninth floor they found the corridors to be lit, muffled sound bouncing off the walls.

Cyborg turned his light off and signaled to Donna and Clark, who both nodded in return. They approached the source of the sound and could hear low murmurs.

Donna and Superman entered the room first and Cyborg was quick to follow. Unfortunately for the heroes they were not in the least bit prepared for what was within.

Blood, that was the first thing they noticed, the heavy, thick smell hung in the air, the sterile metallic scent was nearly suffocating. But tangled in the smell was an energy, a charged tension that unfurled tenfold when the heroes entered the room.

Sixteen men and woman were in the room, the majority of them standing near the rear of the room, around a slumped figure dripping blood, but all turned towards the heroes. Most wore grim expressions, but a select few had small smiles in place.

One of the men near the entrance lifted a hand and Clark was before him in the blink of an eye, lifting the man off of the ground by the collar, but neither Donna, Cyborg, or Clark could stop what unfolded the moment Clark took hold of him.

It all happened too quickly. Too quickly for even for Superman.

It was unexpected.

It was sickening.

Horrifying.

And bloody. So, so bloody.

So much blood.

The blood is what would wash over their dreams in the near future, it would create nightmares that caused them to wake in cold sweats.

Fifteen people who—while the heroes were distracted for the half second with the sixteenth person who was dangling off the floor, his collar in Clark's hand—lifted long silver blades to their throats, and watched with clear eyes as horror over came Clark, Donna, and Cyborg.

The blades were sharp, sharp enough to make clean, and likely painless, slices through the muscled flesh at the throats.

Cyborg had never seen the act, only ever the aftermath of such actions, so he was transfixed as blood sprayed in a fine mist before bubbling up and spilling out like a dyed creek.

Then men and women began to fall, some to their knees, others flat on their backs, but the blood continued to flow. A few of the people broke the silence with their struggled breathing and gurgling as they choked on their own blood.

Clark, who had dropped the first man, stepped forward, his emotions a unidentifiable confection of turmoil. His superhearing, through the sound of the lagging rhythmic beating, was able to discern the sound of contracting muscles and still properly functioning veins. Clark used his superspeed to lift the first man back into the air with one hand and grip one wrist in the other. Squeezing, Clark glared at the man, and waited. He squeezed harder.

The sound of the knife hitting the concrete floor echoed in the nearly silent room.

"Why are you doing this?!"

The man remained silent and Clark continued to glare.

Slowly a smile crept over the man's face, and Clark's rage grew.

The smile began to fade as slowly as it'd come about.

"Superman."

"Superman."

Clark glanced at the hand that held his wrist.

"You're choking him, let go before you assist him in his mission."

Eyes widening, Clark dropped the man once more when he realized there was a purple tint in the man's face. The man gasped for breath and glared at Clark when he crushed the knife beneath his red boot.

"Cyborg, can you tap into any of these computers?"

His name seemed to jolt him from his dazed state, and the half man nodded, "Shouldn't be a problem." Cyborg moved to the central-esque bank of computers, careful to avoid the red pools that crept across the concrete.

Donna watched as her teammate began typing on one of the computers before turning back to the bloodbath. She'd seen a great deal, as an Amazon she was very familiar with the blood covered fields, but this massacre left something in the room she'd only ever heard and read about. But now she knew. The blood mist. It hung heavy in the air, just like the smell. It was a cloud of the thick liquid, that made the room muggy and hot. As she stepped she could feel tiny droplets meet her flesh, and cling to her. The slight stickiness that accompanied it made Donna shudder in disgust.

Stepping over and around the bodies that littered the floor, Donna approached the furtherest wall, there were stairs that lead up to a viewing room, but it was the person on the steps that interested her, and everyone previously. The man was sitting on the third stair, his elbows resting on his knees, and his arms dangling inward. The head of brown hair was bent forward, facing the ground, and obscuring his hands.

Donna lifted the head by the hair and nearly ripped it off the neck. The muscles surrounding the jugular were severed, and blood stained the chest and the once pristine white oxford. Both hands were covered in the blood, where it likely fell after the man dropped his head forward. Donna saw that he still held his knife in one hand, the blood still fresh enough that it sluggishly rolled down the blade, before forming at the tip and falling to the stair below, which was also cover in blood. Donna watched as the remaining undried blood slowly cascaded down the stairs, pooling at her feet.

There was a quiet grunt and Donna turned just in time to see the last man charging towards her. She waited until the last moment, side stepping the man. Unfortunately she had under estimated the extent of the impairment her wounds cause and could not move fully out of the way. The man clipped her low, and she moved with the impact on her hip, so as to remain balanced.

The man however, Donna realized after she finished turning, was not intent on harming her, the missing weight from her side indicated that the man only had one thing in mind and Donna knew she wasn't fast enough to stop him, nor if she said Clark's name would he react fast enough.

Donna's eyes landed on the man who staggered forward, fell, and lay slumped on the stairs beneath the seated man.

"No! " Clark's raspy yell followed in the half second after the man had fallen.

He was still breathing, that much Donna could tell, stepping forward she placed a foot on the inside of the man's shoulder and rolled him over. Reaching down she gripped the handle of her sword and pulled in from in between the man's ribs, the portion of the sword covered in blood told her that the man had punctured his own lung.

Twisting her wrist in a fast motion with a flick she was able to rid the blade of the majority of the blood. Bending down she used the man's shirt to wipe the rest of the blade clean before placing it back on her hip. Resting one hand on the hilt of her sword she watched the man— he was drowning in his own blood and Donna knew it was going to be a slow process.

The man gave her a small smirk, before taking a watery, shallow breath. Donna imagined he could begin to feel a slight burn in his lungs, soon he'd get slightly light headed and his breathing would become faster.

Donna watched as it happened, and continued to watch as the man drowned in his own blood, the red liquid spluttering from his mouth as he coughed. She continued to watch until it finally trickled down his chin as he went limp.

Her eyes followed the length of the man's out stretched arm to where it lay just below the man on the stairs. It was then that she noticed that in the loosely fisted hand of the seated man, there was something underneath the fingers. Carefully prying the stiff appendages back, Donna was able to grab the piece of paper that he had held.

Making her way back to Clark she held out the blood soaked paper. He read it aloud, "Even just one would have been enough—What the hell?"

"I assume it refers to the amount of people they were targeting."

"Sick, all of them." Cyborg paused, then looked to Donna and Clark, "I've wired the computers to reroute all data to the Watchtower, they've already begun to decipher the encryptions and are shifting heroes to the newly known targeted locations." Cyborg glanced over the bodies once more and swallowed hard, trying to force down the bile stuck in his throat.

"Then we're done here."

Cyborg nodded and was the first to step out of the room, followed by Clark and then Donna who shut the door behind her, turning the wheel until it groaned under the stress.

"Back to the surface," Cyborg muttered to himself as he lead the other two back through the corridors, "And fresh air."

J'onn stood outside the viewing window, watching the organized chaos within the operating room.

"Have we given that epinephrine yet?"

"Less than thirty seconds ago."

"Good."

"I need another pair of tissue forceps."

"On it."

It had been at least nine hours since Donna and Clark had reported back to them. After turning over all their information Donna had been forcefully sedated and taken to a room to be looked over and sewn up if need be, there were at least a few ribs that needed re-breaking as well. Clark only stayed to make sure the doctors had Donna under control before he left to continue assisting with delivering the antibiotics to the cities in need. That meant the surgery before him was coming to the end of it's second hour.

"Fuck! It ripped the iliac artery!"

J'onn's attention snapped back to the room where, Dr. Wrede, one of the surgeons, was up to his elbows in blood, and by looking at the scrubs it was easy to see that which ever artery had ripped had sprayed a mist over the two surgeons and the majority of the assisting nurses before Wrede had clamped down on it.

Wrede took the offered hemostats and shifted his hand to get the first pair clamped onto the artery. Blood rushed forward at the slight release in pressure, but after securing the first pair of hemostats he used his hand once more to apply pressure, and the flow slowed again.

Wrede was able to get a second pair of hemostats on the artery, the third pair needed to be placed at a different angle so he instructed a nurse, the man did exactly as the Wrede said, but one of them was off the slightest bit, and blood began to pour from the artery.

"Fuck!"

Wrede gripped the artery between his index and middle finger, and rotated them one-hundred-eighty degrees, he reached across his body and grabbed the hemostats that had fallen. Setting the pair, he slowly released the artery, and only a small amount of blood leaked through, but both sides began to swell with the back pressure.

"Double the transfusion rate and I need-"

"I've got it here."

Wrede took the offered suture, and ripped the needle out of the package with a pair of needle drivers. "Get me a tissue sleeve. Martinson, I'll need you're help for this."

The other surgeon nodded, "Do you want me on your side?"

"No. Someone give me more light."

The light was shifted and Martinson was given four pairs of hemostats and the tissue sleeve. "How far down do you want the first clamp?"

"An inch and a half inferior, and one inch on the superior."

Martinson made quick work of the clamping, and gave Wrede a nod when he was ready. A nurse removed the hemostats Wrede had placed and the moment the back pressure between the new clamps and the old clamps was released and the blood had flowed out, Martinson slipped his finger into the artery with the tissue sleeve wrapped around his digit. While a nurse used forceps to lift part of the artery away from Martinson's finger, Wrede drove the needle in and out of the tissue.

Both doctors knew they had to be quick otherwise the artery could rupture at a different site, or a number of other terrible possibilities could cause it to go wrong. Either way, when Wrede told Martinson to remove his finger his hands immediately moved to the clamps on either side of the artery. Wrede tightened the sutures, tied the last knot, then nodded to Martinson who unclamped the hemostats.

The pressure swelling immediately decreased, but blood spurted from loose sections of the sutures. Wrede made quick work of the leaks, while Martinson instructed the nurses, monitored the decrease in the transfusion rate, and requested a half-dose reversal for the epinephrine.

"We're stabil—"

"AAAARRRRRRGGGGGHHHHH!"

From beyond the window J'onn saw the body lift off the table and the I.V. lines come loose, the personnel scramble to get their patient back under anesthesia. Phasing through the wall, J'onn reached out and slammed into the mind with as much force as he could muster in his weakened state.

At the dazed look, J'onn could feel the walls immediately drop, he plunged forward and gripped tightly to the conscience. J'onn forced himself to speak, but it proved difficult to keep his voice outside of his head. "Do what you need to, I can hold this a bit longer."

He could sense, more than see, the personnel rush to get their patient back under anesthesia, and reconnected to the I.V.s and vitals. As the seconds ticked by J'onn could feel himself losing his grip as the conscience began to fight back. Bit by bit, his hold lessened and the conscience threatened to overpower him.

Then the struggling stopped and the conscience slipped from his grasp, falling away into nothing.

"-back under. Thank you for your help."

J'onn turned to the doctor who was speaking and nodded, "I trust you've given more propofol and increased the concentration of anesthesia?"

The doctor nodded.

"Good, would you like for me to station Aculeus here?"

Again, Wrede nodded, this time with more enthusiasm, though J'onn's question was more rhetorical, he knew Wrede would welcome the heroine with a variety of infused barbs, one particular type of which produced a very strong, and instantaneous, sedative.

J'onn phased back out of the operating room and reached out for Ferrera; unable to find her he contacted Terrific who was able to get ahold of her via the Metrotower. A few minutes passed before the heroine appeared, she approached the viewing window and stood next to J'onn.

"If you could keep an eye on them, they should have it all under control now, but in case they don't use all means necessary to keep them on the table."

Ferrera nodded, "Understood."

"Thank you." J'onn left her to the task and made his way to a recovery room further in the medbay. Crossing the threshold he swept over the room with his eyes.

"Aren't you supposed to be resting?"

"I do believe I could ask the same of most of you," J'onn replied quietly.

"We couldn't.. not.. we.."

"I need to see for myself." It was Cass who had spoken from her position perched high on a windowsill that looked out over the stars, she met J'onn's orange eyes, "I think we all do. If it wasn't for him the world would be falling to pieces."

"Well you'll all be glad to know that nearly all the affected cities have been given at least one delivery of the antibiotic."

"What is the new death toll?"

"Cass," Dick said with a sigh.

The dark haired bat looked to her older brother, with a blank face.

"4.4 million and counting."

"Fuck." Surprisingly enough, the swear came from Clark who was slumped in a seat next to Dick.

"We.. we've done all that we can, we still are," Zatanna whispered, she looked to J'onn, "Correct?"

"Indeed, there is nothing more for us to do. The teams are working as fast as they can, but the antibiotic can only be created so quickly, we've given all countries the necessary direction for creation and growth, so now we can only let time take it's course of flow."

"J'onn you should sit, you must be as tired as the rest of us," Donna suggested sleepily from her position curled up next to Dick, a position she was in only because of the heavy sedative that hadn't completely worn off yet, her mind still in a foggy state of lethargy. That and no one had the energy to tell her of her sister's condition.

J'onn moved towards an open chair, "If you do not mind."

"Of course not J'onn, please sit."

"How are Lois and Jor?" J'onn asked quietly.

Clark attempted to pull his lips up, but the effort strained him, and he knew there was no emotion to back it, "As well as can be, Lois that is, Jor-El doesn't understand what is happening. They're with Alfred, Selina, Shayera, and the others in the personal founding areas."

J'onn nodded, and reached out to his friend with his mind. There was great despair, sadness, and a small amount of hope that surrounded a single subject. How is everyone here my friend?

Clark leaned his head back against the sofa and closed his eyes. They haven't moved, Cassandra refused all treatment until a few hours ago when Dick made her compromise. She's been very quiet. Dick is taking it hard, neither of them want to hope, yet they have a small amount—

Like you my friend, J'onn thought to himself.

—Donna.. she's been half awake since I got here, she asked once about her sister but Dick was able to distract.

And Wally?

Clark opened his eyes and glanced to the far corner of the room where the speedster sat against the wall, staring down at his wife's head which rested in his lap, he periodically stroked her hair or arm, almost in an attempt to reassure himself that she was there. He.. I'm worried. He took Bruce's—Bruce's death harder than the rest of us, Dick, Cass, Barbra, and even Tim.. they—they knew it was a possibility, they've had scares before, they knew what it would be like. But Wally.. it hit him as hard as it hit Diana..

Wally has always look up to our friend.

I'd never realized how much, and I don't entirely understand why, Bruce.. Bruce was never the most.. open with Wally.

I believe that is where you are wrong my friend, Bruce and Wally had a very deep relationship.

Clark shifted his head so he could see J'onn out of the corner of his eye. What?

When Barry died.. it was Bruce who helped Wally pick himself up; many mistake that feat falling to Richard, but it was Bruce. There was a period where Wally practically lived at the manor after Barry died, and Richard and Bruce we're on rocky footing so Wally was often left behind while Richard would take time to himself.

Both aliens, and the others in the room turned towards the door when it slid open. Red Tornado stepped through the door allowing it to slide shut behind him, he gave a small nod to those in the room before approaching the corner Clark and J'onn were sitting in. "They're ready for you in the main conference room."

"Thank you friend," J'onn said quietly pushing himself to his feet.

Clark followed suit, and together they followed Tornado out of the med bay, and parted ways shortly thereafter.

It only took the two founders a few minutes to reach the conference room and before entering J'onn morphed back into his humanly familiar form, and Clark reattached his cape while giving his hair a quick brush through with his fingers.

"Are you ready?"

Clark nodded, "As I'll ever be."

J'onn opened the door and they entered, making their way to the far side of the room where a large bank of screens were displaying a few dozen people, a few of the screens were filtering through a few different faces.

Clark and J'onn took seats next to one another, facing those present on the screens.

"Thank you all for being able to convene on such short notice. With that said I hereby call to order this Emergency Session of the United Nations. Given the current state of many of our homes we shall proceed directly to the first order of business should said action be favored. I call for a verbal vote, all those in favor say Aye."

The vote was unanimous and the Speaker nodded to J'onn and Clark, "I turn the floor over to the Justice League to address the terrorist attacks."

"Thank you, I know these past twenty hours have not been easy for anyone, but we now have answers as to the source of the attacks."

"Lucas McGreer was born and raised in Liverpool, England, at the age of fourteen he was accepted into the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, which he later graduated from. A number of hours ago, three members of the Justice League, Superman included, found Mr. McGreer and sixteen others in an abandoned WWII testing bunker. It was there that we confiscated the plans of attack. McGreer, for reasons yet unknown had planned all of this, three years ago he found two young scientists Joshua Clarkson and Claire Rosette who knew the anthrax bacteria throughly, the two had studied at Harvard and were rewarded full time use of their labs do to their thesis work surrounding the bacteria's evolutionary life history."

"The two recruited a few other scientists to work from a home lab they had set up. Over the course of five months they had stolen and purchased enough equipment to complete all experiments from their home in Tampa, Florida. While attempting to mutate and evolve different strains of the bacteria McGreer began recruiting people for his cause—"

"We have a question from Germany."

J'onn nodded, and Clark brought the German representative to the front screen. "What was this cause, McGreer was promoting? What was his reasoning for these attacks?"

"We believe he wished to rid the word of it's created societies, we think he wanted to clear the plate, however, these are only guesses, we have yet to find reason within his work." J'onn paused to see if this answered satisfied the representative, and when there were no follow ups, he continued. "McGreer found four hundred sixty-two individuals who were willing to risk their lives for his cause, and these people lived worldwide. This number does not however, account for the twenty-three individuals who joined, but later in the plan attempted to back out, these individuals were used as final test subjects for the bacterial strains."

"McGreer and his two lead scientists sent their final strains to the members of their team who would release them simultaneously on the selected cities."

"How did he choose the cities?"

J'onn looked to Clark who cleared his throat, "We believe he first chose the largest metropolises within each of his target countries, then he began picking cities based on the culture and societal rules, we have our analysts working on trying to find patterns, and thus far it seems random, but we hope to narrow it down to one or two reasonings."

"Where is McGreer now?"

"Dead."

"How?!"

"Suicide."

"By his own invention?"

Clark shook his head, "He and his sixteen most trusted colleagues, cut their own throats after one hundred fifty-one of the two hundred twelve locations had successful releases of the bacteria."

"The coward!"

"What of his two scientists?"

"Dead as well, they were in the bunker with him," Clark answered.

J'onn stood, "As you all must be aware our scientists and many others from your own countries are doing their best to produce more of the antibiotic, while attempting to find ways to neutralize the two remaining strains. As information surrounding the attacks, the bacteria, the antibiotic, and the participants comes forward we shall share it, I believe our Speaker has already assigned a committee which has complied all the available information into database which we all have access to— that is all we have."

The Speaker nodded to J'onn and Clark, "The Justice League is dismissed from the meeting, please address any further questions to the Anthrax Committee, and present any further information to them as well. We are thus adjourned."

J'onn turned off the screens and looked to Clark who sighed heavily. "The day is almost done my friend," J'onn whispered soothingly, both to himself and Clark.

The two founders exited the conference room and wondered back towards the medical bay, passing through the locked doors they paused at the viewing room to Dr. Wrede's surgery.

Clark rapped on the thick glass once near Aculeus' shoulder, the heroine turned. "How is it going?" Clark asked loud enough for his voice to penetrate the glass.

"Well, they finished suturing about ten minutes ago, she should be waking up soon."

J'onn approached the sideboard and activated the intercom, "May we enter Dr. Wrede? Dr. Martinson?"

The two doctors looked up from their discussion, "J'onn! Yes, please come in, we've finished and she's starting to come round."

J'onn and Clark exited the viewing room and entered the surgery suit, "What will the recovery time be?"

Dr. Wrede grinned, "Well, given that she's a fast healer I would say a few days at most, from what I've seen of her healing abilities I would say by this time tomorrow she'll be at 60% if not better, provided she rests."

"And with Dr. Letterson's new technology we were able to remove all the iron filings and shrapnel from her systems, so her recovery should be very smooth, and we needn't worry about blood poisoning or shrapnel traveling to the heart," Dr. Martinson added.

Dr. Wrede paused and then gave a half grimace, "She.. well she awoke another time, about fifteen minutes after you left and Aculeus was able to help us get her back down, but one of the darts hit close to the optic nerve. By some miracle it slid into the eye socket completely missing the orb, but landed close to the nerve. She's likely to have vision difficulty for quiet some time."

"Permanent?"

The doctor shrugged, "I don't know, Aculeus said it was temporary, as are most of her barbs, but she said she's also never hit so close to such a vital area.. and on top of that I have little idea of how her healing abilities will play into such an injury."

"Diana.."

The two doctors and J'onn turned to the secondary table where Diana was attempting to sit up. Wrede and Martinson both returned to their patient asking for her slowness of movements.

Clark and J'onn followed, both smiling at their female companion. "How are you feeling my friend?"

"As though I've gone a round with Ares and lost," Diana croaked out, her voice hoarse, but gaining strength.

"It's good to see you.. up." Clark gave a small smile, but a smile nonetheless, the first J'onn had seen from him in a very long while.

"What..? What happened? Why can't I see?" Diana asked pushing herself into a fully sitting position despite the protests of the attendants and doctors. Despite the lack of vision she was resolutely calm.

"Quite a lot has happened my friend, it is not a short tale."

"Diana, it's Dr. Wrede, can you see anything at all?"

Diana paused and then squinted, "Dark.. shapes.. I think I know where you are." Diana turned and looked in J'onn's direction, "What happened?"

"As I said it's not a short tale."

"I've got time.." Diana looked to the people making noise around her, "May I get dressed?"

"How is the pain in your chest?" Dr. Wrede inquired with a serious look.

Diana's brows drew together and she lifted a hand to her chest, but did not touch it, "It hurts.. burns and aches.. but I will heal. My mind is already clearing of the drugs you gave me. I.. I can see your shape slightly better as well."

Dr. Wrede nodded, "That is excellent. And I am not surprised by the pain, but you must have seventy-two hours of rest. Anything more than walking and I will take action, J'onn has given me full authority."

The corner of Diana's lips lifted, "Very well healer, I promise to ease back into my routine." The Amazon thanked the attendants who brought her clothes.

Clark averted his eyes while Diana was helped into loose pants and a white shirt. Once dressed Diana was helped back onto the bed and into a reclined position. "So what happened..? I don't, I' don't remember much.. though I think that has to do with the drugs."

"Much has happened, what was the last thing you remember?"

"We'd just returned from somewhere.. and then we were in New York.. and there was fighting. I.. I remember being angry, as though Hades himself possessed me.." Diana paused. "What fueled my rage.."

J'onn and Clark watched carefully as Diana spoke quietly to herself.

"We returned.. we returned from.. from a battle."

They saw Diana's realization in her face before she had time to speak it.

"Bruce!" Blue eyes searchingly looked in their direction, the two aliens could see the fire as Diana practically launched out of her sickbed, tripping as she went. "Where is Bruce?!"

"Diana, take it easy!"

"Clark! Where is he?! Is he—" Diana stumbled backwards and barely caught herself on the bed she'd just been lying in.

"No." Clark answered swiftly, moving forward to support her.

The searching blue eyes poured over Clark's face despite the fact that they could not actually see him. "You'll take me to him." The hoarse words weren't expressed as a question.

"Of course," J'onn answered.

With Clark acting as a crutch the three exited the surgical suite, J'onn touching Dr. Wrede's mind to ensure the care of his patient as they left. The walk to the other medical suit seemed both longer and shorter than when J'onn had taken it just over an hour ago.

"What happened in New York?"

J'onn sighed heavily, but spoke, "The city was cleared of the men, and during that time Atom and Obsidian were able to figure out the basis of their plan. They were bio-terrorists, and had a much larger plan than any of us had suspected. We located their base of operations. Superman, Donna, and Cyborg were sent to investigate, but they were too late, the plans were already in motion and everyone on connected to the ploy is dead. Suicide in most cases, many of the men from New York have died in their cells. Atom has been able to create an anti-bacteria for their strain, so we've been able to save a handful of them, but it appears they were just paws, none of them were aware they had been poisoned."

"Wait, bio-terrorists?"

When they finally reach the doors they slid open silently, revealing that little had changed since J'onn and Clark had left.

"Diana."

Diana turned to the voice and smiled, "Sister."

Donna lifted her head from Dick's shoulder, but when she saw Diana turn back to J'onn she allowed her head to fall back to it's resting place, careful not to take her eyes off her sister, nor the red seeping through the white shirt.

"Have you heard of anthrax?" J'onn continued.

"It sounds familiar," Diana said quietly.

"It's a bacteria that is very effective for killing animals via inhalation. These bio-terrorists created a new type of this bacteria, one that is not only more lethal, but also more quick to act. The members of this organization had been planning for years. They attacked all the metropolises across the world."

"But you said an anti-bacteria had been created, is that not something that combats bacteria?"

"It does—

"Diana is your vision coming back?" Clark interrupted.

Diana nodded, "I can see very faint colors."

"You are recovering very fast." J'onn noted.

"My gods will not let me be crippled." Diana looked in J'onn's direction, "You were saying."

"We had already started mass production of the anti-bacteria, we employed every lab that we could, but anti-bacteria takes time, and we only had a small amount to begin with, it was too late for many places. But we are doing all we can to help, at this point we are making the anti-bacteria as fast as we can, and it is up to time before this all washes away."

"How.. is the death count high?"

"In the millions," Clark whispered.

Diana reached her other hand out and fumbled to lay it on Clark's free hand. "Do not blame yourself Kal-El, I know you, you have done all you could."

Clark swallowed, "But it wasn't enough."

"Clark Kent, you may not be human, but we each have our limits." Diana's blue eyes looked towards his blurry face, as she found the two blue orbs that floated into her vision, "Did you try Clark?" the raspiness in her voice nearly gone.

"What?"

"Did you try to save everyone?"

Clark stared searchingly into the shifting eyes, "..yes..?"

"There is little confidence in that answer, try again."

Clark gave a weak, but knowing smile to the Amazon, "Yes."

"The reason she is asking is because that is all you can do." The three looked towards the voice to see that Cass had turned away from the stars to watch them.

"Cassandra.." Diana said, and they could see the moment Diana remembered why they had moved. "Bruce.."

"Diana he's—"

"Quiet!" Cass snapped, she hopped down from her perch and leapt across the room to the bed.

A groan sounded from the bed, and the room went dead silent. The prone figure made another noise, and then the chest rose in a massive shuttering, wheezing breath.

The room suddenly echoed with the sounds of feet on the metal floor as they all scrambled towards the bed.

The eye lids snapped open, and then slammed shut against the bright light, and an unintelligible mumble came from the chapped lips.

"What is that?" Diana asked, her blue eyes flitted around the shapes gathered in the center of the room. "What is happening?" Diana snapped stumbled forward allowing Clark to help her. She reached out for the shape and felt the railing of a sickbed, she gripped it tightly peering down at the fuzzy occupant.

"Th—hats a good l—look." The voice was a dry rasp, that sounded as though it tore at the throat on it's way up.

Diana looked to the bed, her hazy vision attempting to make out the figure.

Dark hair.

Blue eyes.

A strong jaw.

And a voice, that even when masked, was unmistakable.

"Bruce?" Diana whispered.

"Di—did you get them?" he rasped.

The sounds of relief and joy varied amongst the heroes, most of them wiping a tear or two from their eyes.

"Yes," J'onn croaked, unprepared for the swarm of emotion that over came him at his friend's wakefulness.

"Good..."

"Curse you to Hell and back." Diana hissed, her anger holding only relief as she leaned over the rail and placed her lips to Bruce's temple.

Despite her impaired vision Diana was the only one close enough to his face to see the faintest of smiles pull at his lips as his eyes closed before he fell back into the world of unconsciousness, his monitors beating reassuringly steady.

- fin-

All I have to say to you amazing readers in thank you for sticking with me. I promised you I wouldn't abandon you and I haven't. I will post an Epilogue, but it will be it's own story, look for it on my page, it will be up before the New Year, that—with 100 percent certainty—I can promise.

Also I've posted a few Batman one shots you should take a look at!

Cheers to all you lovely, lovely, people. I could not have done this without you.

- JoPo