Author's Note: Coming off Respond, I had to get some prequel work in before I could address a sequel. Consider Anchor a somewhat distant prequel to Respond, with Branches as Respond's almost immediate sequel. Character ownership goes to DC Comics.

I have to hurry, but I still must be careful about it. I walk my hands down the top of the missile and over its warhead. I turn in the air, swinging myself ahead of it, getting myself underneath the massive weapon.

I straighten beneath it and close my eyes. I hear my exhales, strained with my exertions as I push. I apply more force gradually, hoping that I won't detonate it by mistake.

A momentary relief as I sense our flight path leveling. Suddenly, I feel a great pressure against the whole of my back, even against my head and out to my extremities. Undefined sensation turns quickly to pain and I acknowledge it with a groan while the air escapes my lungs.

My body is pressed upwards from behind and my chest slams into the belly of the missile. I feel a great scraping run down along my backside, threatening to pull me loose, but I manage to maintain my grip on the warhead.

There's just enough time for me to find myself a kindred spirit to pesky flying insects when it happens again. This second impact is softer than the first. I grit my teeth against the pain and lift my head, nearly touching my forehead to the missile's fuselage. As the pain and its source pass, I take a quick glimpse down past my feet.

I quickly realize I've gone through two walls. Dust fills the air. The only natural light is filtering through what hangs in the air around the first hole. I realize the meaning for the lack of sunlight. 'At least one more to go,' I think just before I feel the beginnings of another impact across the back of my palms.

The wall gives way without significant resistance, certainly not enough to stop the missile. I feel like I'm diving into a spring back home on Themyscira. I feel the hole growing around me and breaking apart as the wall's edge travels along my arms.

A piece of debris hits the back of my head and my eyes close of their own volition. The impact is disorienting and I nearly miss the feeling of the edge of the wall as it scrapes down my back, over my rear, and down my legs. I regain my thoughts and memories of home resurface again in my mind. 'Like diving into a spring…filled with stones.'

My feet now free, my body begins to hang like a flag from a pole. Before long, the cloud of dust and debris thins enough for me to see shadowed sunlight against my eyelids.

With a thought, I focus myself on my goal, my duty to protect the gorillas—the people—below me. I straighten myself again, throw my feet back behind me, and open my eyes to see how much closer to the ground I am.

My eyes confirm what I already knew in my heart. The ground is coming faster than I would like.

Panicked screams reach my ears and I almost forget that the people below are not humans, but gorillas. 'And I am all that stands between their city and the fates.'

At the end of the thought, I see Batman as the missile pushes me past him. There is nothing he can do. There is no weakness for him to find and exploit. He knows it. His stoicism falters. I see his apprehension betrayed by the set of his jaw, by his mouth when it falls agape.

'I cannot fail!' I tip my head forward for a moment, then lift my chin and begin to close my eyes as I strain against the missile's force. A plea to the Pantheon. "Hera, give me strength!"

I feel it. A surge of power welling up within me. My left foot hits the ground and after a quick moment to balance myself, I press my right to the pavement below. The domed nose of the missile's warhead begins to give, a concavity forming around my hands. Too much force, too quickly.

I begin to ease up when an image appears in my mind. A small box, surrounded by wires—a control system. The missile's arming system. Interpreting the visual information reminds me for some reason of J'onn J'onzz, but I don't have time to determine why.

There's a shift in the missile. It's slowing against my resistance and I feel the back end of the missile slam into the pavement, a horrible scraping sound filling the air around me. A new noise soon rings out, buckling metal. Metallic clangs follow, impact noises sounding off from the ground below and to both sides of the missile as it splits.

It shifts again, lifting higher until it's almost over me. I feel my balance slipping. The warhead begins to fall as I am leaned back. It slips away from my hands and lands on my chest before pinning me to the ground for a moment.

It immediately begins to flip end over end above me. I manage to strengthen my grip enough to stay on as the crumpled warhead rises from the ground.

I have a brief instant of clarity once the missile is standing upright below me. It fills my vision and the image of the arming system fills my thoughts. I slide quickly down its side, my fingertips catching on the edge between the warhead and the body of the missile. I straighten my palm and the fingers of my right hand, wind them back, then thrust them into the side of the weapon just below its domed nose.

Again, the image of the arming control box flashes in my mind as I reach further within the missile. I can't see my hand, but somehow, when I curl my fingers over a metal box deep inside the weapon, I know I have found the right component. Before I have a chance to pull or crush it, my back slams into the ground, breaking through the pavement when the missile lands atop me.

My left arm is wrenched from the warhead and I feel the repeated impacts of chunks of pavement splitting over the top of my head. The missile gives a little bounce before its crushing weight lands again, pressing me deeper into the ground as I lock my fingers around the box.

The relentless impacts begin to catch up with me and I feel my mind begin to lose focus. Sensation falls to the wayside, sound not far behind. Thought stops next and time loses all meaning.

Something wraps around me. A distinct sensation of comfort and warmth. I feel myself lifted. It's ethereal. I'm ethereal.

An image of the gorillas' city spreads out in all directions. I see J'onn and Hawkgirl in the air, Batman on the ground, all headed for the missile's final resting place.

A new image replaces it. Flash, a woman, and a pair of gorillas stand surrounded by control panels, displays, and instruments. The inside of some sort of military installation. Flash pulls a band from his head and tosses it aside as the image quickly fades, replaced by throngs of blank-faced people waiting in a city plaza, staring at an empty stage. Another moment and the image changes again, replaced by a bank robbery being thwarted handily by Superman.

The image of Superman fades like those before it, replaced by a city intersection. Nothing interesting happens, just a few dozen people beginning to cross the street as the lights change. The image doesn't even last until the first person makes it all the way across.

The next is a police shootout. Two officers hiding behind their squad car as a man with a semi-automatic weapon sporadically sprays the other side of their vehicle. More officers arrive. One of them gets a shot off. It hits the gunman and he drops to the black pavement.

The images seem to last for shorter times, more rapid but no less complete. Dozens upon dozens of scenes play out for my mind. Many are ordinary, seemingly insignificant. Too many show crimes in progress. More robberies. Shootings. Extortions. Kidnapping. Murder. Rape.

I gather enough of my mind to think. 'What do you mean to show me, Apollo?' An almost desperate question.

The sights of more grisly murders and more suffering innocents are my only answer. The ordinary scenes become less and less frequent.

I begin to recognize a theme, more distinct with each crime. Finally, my mind collects enough for another thought. 'Why do we keep fighting when everything the Justice League does cannot prevent these crimes?'

The images slow. I see Mother and my sisters, frozen in stone. Along with them, the unsettling sight of myself confronting Faust. I next see myself with Superman, J'onn, and Green Lantern, restrained in a chamber filling with water. 'Atlantis.'

The underwater kingdom fades, replaced by more crimes, but now I'm not sure if I'm looking at the past or present. My revulsion and contempt for these criminals remains, growing stronger as I witness each crime. It's cold, hard proof that my mother and sisters had been right about Man's world. I note that most of these criminals are men and a new opinion surfaces. All this crime, these men, it seems normal. The thought carries with it a heavy blow against my hopefulness.

'All I achieved in leaving Themyscira is exile.' The thought hangs over my mind as I watch a mugging. 'My efforts to bring peace to Man's world are fruitless. No matter what world-ending threats I overcome, I can do nothing towards preventing the everyday crimes.'

Forlornness sweeps over me. 'But Themyscira is lost to me. I have no place to go but the Watchtower. No refuge to flee from the crime, the senseless violence, the suffering. No reason to stay, but nowhere to go.'

The scene shifts again and I see myself and all but two members of the Justice League, restrained by hands and feet below the Imperium. I pick out J'onn, straining to weather the alien's assault while within its bulbous form. I find Batman, his form as clear as day, sneaking his way up the spire towards the ion matrix crystal.

The scene holds for longer than those beforehand. Enraptured, I watch it unfold and thank Apollo for granting me a few minutes more.

I see the relief on my face when J'onn reveals Batman to the invaders and he attacks. It surprises me for an instant, but then I remember my thoughts, my emotions from seeing him land before me and begin to cut my arms free.

I see myself speak to him, but there is no sound to accompany it. I realize the lack of sound in the vignette of images I've witnessed so far. Left to the memories, my mind gladly fills in my words. 'So you did find their weakness after all.'

When my image breaks its left hand free a few short moments later, the scene shatters. I see more crimes take place around me, around my ethereal presence. The scenes begin blending together. I feel the confusion surrounding me like jumping into a pit of tar.

I feel my mind beginning to unravel. I reach out, try to find a single scene to focus on, to keep from losing myself to the visions. I finally find a family entering an alley, an excited young boy seemingly with his parents. I strain to pull myself closer to them. I feel like a climber at the end of her journey, weak from her efforts but still hanging just below the mountaintop. I continue, pushing the other images away. Finally, I am alone with them.

My perspective shifts, getting ahead of the family as they walk through the alleyway. Everything seems fine. 'Hera!' Relief fills me and I suddenly feel like a sheepherder, leading this small family home. My relief crumbles not a moment later. There is a man in a long, worn coat stepping out of hiding towards the child and his parents.

I see the man's mouth moving, but I hear nothing as he lifts his right hand from his side, a dingy old revolver held ready. I share the family's horror.

He steps closer and in desperation, I try placing myself between the man and the family. He begins to pass through me and I feel myself pushed aside, my ethereal form sliding away until even the young boy is closer to the robber than me. The robber lifts his empty left hand, then lurches forward and makes a grab for a necklace around the mother's neck. The boy's father lunges at the robber and in what seems like a single, harrowing moment, two gunshot flashes. The father on the ground, the mother laying across him. Both dead.

The murderer turns and runs. The child's face falls. The shock, horror, and fear on his face are joined by emptiness—a reflection of the newly torn hole in his heart. He sinks to his knees beside his parents. His mouth hangs open and he stares down at their lifeless bodies.

I shift my attention between the three of them and, as my focus settles on the boy, I hear it. "Diana!" My name. It's coming from somewhere else. Somewhere far away. I begin to hear more noises and the scene around me starts losing focus. I hear what sounds like rock tumbling over rock. Grunts of effort.

The image surrounding me fades to blackness.

I concentrate on the sounds, feel myself drawn to them, but suddenly they stop. Confusion and anguish flood me for a moment, but I quell them quickly with newfound determination. 'No! I won't abandon this world yet!'

I strive to hear more sounds. When I am nearly lost, I hear it—muffled, but I hear it. A sigh.

I feel my body again. I hastily open my eyes, but nothing changes, I only see the darkness that had pervaded my mind.

I feel my arm, more specifically, my fingers, still wrapped around the arming system. I pull my arm away and it is loose in my hand. I felt no resistance. I must have pulled its wires free while unconscious.

Once my hand and the metal box are extracted from the missile, I drop the device to the ground near my hip. I lift both hands to the metal above me and push. The metal groans out in protest as it scrapes against the rock, but I do not relent.

Finally, I see sunlight and my surroundings fall into focus. I find a startled Batman and J'onn to my left.

With an exhale, I give the missile a shove and it near enough bounces away from my hands, falling to rest to my right atop the pavement. I turn to the two men and sit up. As they climb up from within the hole, I reach down for the control box. I lift it into the air and crush it with a simple squeeze.

I open my fingers and it slides off my hand. I give a quick sigh of relief and float into the air. A satisfied smile teases at the corners of my lips as I land beside Batman and the others, but the images in my mind remain fresh. Too fresh.

"The fates were kind today. Your city is safe," I tell the gorillas.

The gorilla people begin to cheer and shout. Nearly all of them throw their arms up. I lift my hands to my hips and notice a few beginning to clap.

I look to my colleagues, my steadfast allies in this unending fight for peace and justice. Only Batman turns. Something catches my eye near his waist and I turn, looking down to see his hands and forearms. His gloves are covered in dirt and clay.

He also looks down to his hands while the clues begin to fall into place in my mind. What was real and what was not. 'It was Batman who was digging to save me. He must have been the one who called for me.'

An impulse passes over me as my lips widen into a smile and I lift my right hand towards his shoulder. I lean forward and close my eyes when I feel the fabric of his cape against my palm. My chest presses against his back and I tip my head past his shoulder.

I plant a gentle kiss of gratitude against his exposed jaw. My lips land not an inch away from the edge of his cowl and I hold them against his warm skin for a brief instant.

Batman's shoulders drop, taking my hand with his right as he lifts his head with a start. 'Well, this must have been a surprise.' I open my eyes and pull my lips from his skin, lifting the corners of my mouth into a knowing smirk.

I lean back, standing straight, watching for the rest of his reaction. He doesn't do much more, merely straightening his shoulders before turning away.

Dejection at being so easily brushed off threatens to pull down my happiness, but the expression on his face is more telling. His behavior, in a word, was almost bashful. 'I think he only turned to keep from blushing. Probably wants to hide it from me.'

I turn back towards the cheering gorillas, focus on their boisterousness. 'Perhaps we can make a difference. Perhaps, with more diligence, we can make a difference with the small crimes as well. Maybe it can all be worth the effort.'

I see Green Lantern approaching in the air and smile again before I turn back to the rest of my fellow Leaguers. Hawkgirl, J'onn, and Batman. I look them over one at a time before finally settling my gaze on the Caped Crusader. 'Batman's city of Gotham is in every bit representative of the images Apollo gifted me.'

I think of Superman, remembering a short conversation we'd had on the Watchtower. I had asked him about Batman, the only member of our Justice League who refused to tell me anything about themselves. His initial answer had been that I would need to understand Gotham to understand Batman.

I had found a city trying to tear itself apart at the seams. I had found a police force trying to right itself from within. I had found an enigmatic vigilante many believed to be the one force keeping the city from crumbling. Enigmatic? Certainly, yes. Vigilante? Technically so, but our battle with the Imperium had proven him a warrior.

'If he continues to fight, then he must have hope. There must be hope to be had. He must have determination to continue on without my strength or Kal's, without otherworldly weapons like John's and Hawkgirl's, and without special abilities like Flash's and J'onn's. If a mere mortal can put forth such effort, then as an Amazon, I can allow myself no less.'

My mind goes back to the visions Apollo granted me, to my thoughts about them. 'Now I have a reason to stay in Man's world.'

My smile broadens. 'An anchor.'

Author's Note: Reviews are welcome and appreciated, but certainly not required. Thanks for reading.

I was hoping not to give anything away before this closing note, to let the story do that for itself—implicitly, for the most part—but...well, the summary is the summary. Also, I probably won't be doing too many more of these in-episode fanfics. I like reading them and I like the subtexts and explanations authors weave into pre-existing stories, but I'm not as keen on authoring them myself.

Fun fact: the actual scenes used here lasted a grand total of ninety seconds. 90 seconds. That's as many as nine tens. And that's terrible.