AUTHOR'S NOTE: And here we are, the final chapter of Justice League Divided. It's been a long and gusty ride, but I've enjoyed every moment of it. Enjoy this chapter, there's something interesting developments. Trust me - it isn't here for filler! Thanks for all the reviews and favourites. The sequel will start posting in, I think, a week or so. Soon I'll be posting a new story for The Last of Us, titled The Hunters of Pittsburgh. I'm looking forward to that too! Enjoy the chapter. Don't forget to leave reviews and let me know what you think!

EPILOGUE

She was very aware that men liked the sway of her curves when she walked, the click of her heels. They watched; she let them. It couldn't hurt her, after all. But when she needed something with no questions asked, all she had to do was walk. As long as they were watching. Shame it doesn't work with all men, she thought.

The sound of her footsteps echoed around the opening floor. In the distance there was gentle music playing at the bar; a taxi slammed closed outside and a bellboy rushed to help with someone's luggage. She had no luggage herself, only a handbag wound twice tightly around her shoulder. It didn't hurt to be cautious.

"Ah, Miss Glade, it's wonderful to see you again." The man at the reception desk smiled big and warm at her arrival. "I wondered where you had gone."

"I missed you every step of the way," she said, low enough to make him draw nearer to her. He smiled, like a schoolboy with a crush. Pig, she thought, but there was no need to burn bridges by calling him out as one. All people could one day be valuable. The man she loved had taught her that.

"Will you be needing a new key to your room?"

"No, I still have the other. What kind of klutz do you take me for?" She laughed.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I shouldn't hold you to the standards of every other resident in the hotel."

"Tell me," she said, "have there been any new high profile guests since I left?"

"Why miss, you only left a few hours ago." His thick grey eyebrows disappeared into his hair. He had a lot of hair. Stephanie wondered if it was a wig. "There have been none. Is there someone you're looking for in particular?"

"No, George. Thank you for your help." She reached out with her hand and brushed his upper arm, and then she left. Walking, walking, walking. In the mirroring doors of the elevator ahead of her she could see him watching her, leering. The bored old man seemed one step away from drooling.

The elevator chimed softly when she pressed the button and waited. The clock hand moved from seven, to six, five, four, three, two… They parted and she entered. 42, she pressed, and the doors slid shut quietly and began to move.

There were many things on her mind that day. She wondered if he would be in a pleasant mood. If he isn't, I don't know what will put him in one. That day had been a great advancement for their cause. Soon would begin the next phase and, though he hadn't involved her in all of her plans, she would certainly share in his glory. He'd told her so himself. He'd be so kind to her. She wet his lips with her tongue at the thought. Oh, how it excited her!

Oh how he excited her. Most things excited her. But seeing it burn in the sky, that beacon of oppression. The home of the Justice League had fallen, their base, their "Watchtower". They wouldn't visit it again. He had brought it down. He had organised the full thing. He had all sorts of people under his control. People, and the god. Circe, she remembered. Stephanie had hated her when they met; the way that he gave her attention, the way he smiled at her.

"It means nothing, my dear," he'd reassured her afterwards. "You know that you are the only true one for me." He ran his fingers through her hair. "But it's important that she give us what we need. She'll try to use us as we do with her. We tell people what they want to hear and they fall for it." And then he smiled his marvellous smile.

We tell people what they want to hear and then they fall for it, she remembered. She'd based her life on that. Her relationships with people were just connections for his ends. Stephanie wanted to become a tool for him, a device for him to use as he needed her. And now he relied on her. He needed her. She knew there was always the possibility that he would one day fall out of love with her, but she'd be ready for that. As much as she loved him, if she had to run then she could do so. She could run just as well as she could walk.

The elevator stopped when it reached the forty-second floor, but the doors did not part. She placed her finger on the button again and held it there until she felt the static shock. It hummed a little as it scanned her fingerprint. As the elevator announced her name, the doors slid apart.

She walked into a brightly lit reception area. At the desk there was another woman; she had the dark brown hair Stephanie herself had, but her skin was dark where her own was fair. She was hovering above her seat when the doors slid open, head inclined slightly forward. One hand rested on the barrier blocking her desk from sight, but the other hovered below. She's holding a gun.

If she weren't holding a gun, Stephanie would have reported her. It was protocol. I could have been killed, my hand removed. The woman wasn't completely useless. Still, at first chance Stephanie would stab her in the back and have her removed. Competition was to be discouraged, and this bitch probably had the same notions as Stephanie herself did. But she doesn't have him in her pocket.

There was a clang in the corner of the room and Stephanie glanced around; there were men fitting new grates onto the walls.

"More security," the woman behind the desk said, groaning a little. "What's best for the boss, I guess."

"Yes," Stephanie said, watching them. She turned back to the woman. "How is he?" Stephanie hadn't seen him today, or the day before. But today was different. Today was a triumph.

"I've only spoken to him once. He seems fine. Wants you to go in and see him. He's assembling the rest of the staff up here in ten minutes." Stephanie tried not to grin at that; but he wanted her alone. He always wanted her alone. Maybe today would be the day he finally kissed her.

"What for?"

"I dunno, a briefing on something. We'll find out soon."

There weren't many of them. Six, including the two currently in the room. The workers with the grate looked like outsiders to Stephanie; she hadn't seen them before. But she trusted them wholly if he did.

"I'll go in right now."

"Take this, will you? He asked you bring it in." Not looking at her, the woman reached for something and lifted it out, handing it to her. The bottle was made of thick glass; inside was liquid, red liquid. Wine. Time to celebrate, is it?

Further down the corridor was the door that led into his room. Stephanie Glade looked at her reflection before she entered. She ran her hands along her skirt, smoothing it out, and pushed her breasts up to make them more prominent. After a moment of deliberation she undid the top button of her white blouse. Her hair was already done to perfection, and even the blustery weather outside on the streets of Metropolis could not affect it. With a deep breath, she pushed open the doors and in she walked.

The room was dark, very dark. That was common. She could make out his outline from the glow of the computer screens he sat in front of. So many of them. One was a feed from the news, discussing the fall of Watchtower and the few hundred people that had been injured when it fell. There were others that were simply live feeds from around the world. She knew the grubbiness of Gotham City and the glow of Star City at first sight, but there some she did not recognise; a city made of green light that looked as if it were a science fiction film. A castle that was made of crystals and ice.

"It's nice to see you again, Stephanie."

Even in the dark, if he were looking, he would have seen her blush. "And you, Mr Luthor. How have you been?"

The click of her heels was dampened in this small room; it did not have the echo that the reception area commanded or the outside entailed, only the immediate and harsh click of her heels and then no further resonance. That disappointed her; the walking was her control.

"Well," he said. The glow from the screens made his head seem all the more round. She came to his side, still holding the wine. "It's a pity there were so many innocent lives lost when we destroyed their base."

"Yes, pity," she murmured. I always feel so small around him.

"You brought the wine?"

"Yes, sir."

"Excellent." He took it from her. His green eyes seemed to glow in the dark; the outline of his strong jaw and mouth visible to her. She wanted to look at him more but his eyes, so intense, made her turn away.

Be strong and impress him. "When will you go public with your survival, Mr Luthor?"

"Oh, not too long now, I think. We just have to wait a while longer. There's a real resentment for the League fostering in the world now, Stephanie. They blame them for Brainiac's arrival. Who am I to say they are wrong? Brainiac attacked using his rabid dog, and maybe he wouldn't have if the "heroes" were not here."

She nodded. He was right, of course. He was always right. "Won't the world be angry that you pretended to be dead?"

"No," he said, pouring a glass of wine. He had another bottle at his own side, though the liquid was brown. Bourbon, neat. Stephanie didn't like the stuff; it stung her throat, so he'd arranged for her own. "I feared for my life. It's understandable. Brainiac would have come for me. He was angry with me, for not giving him what he wanted so badly. He grew angry and attacked me – who knew it would rage on into the streets of Metropolis? Who knew his hand would be forced there, and his invasion launched? Nobody knew."

"You must have. You sent a clone."

He laughed. "Aliens are a scourge, but they're rarely stupid. It'd have hunted me down. Pull up a seat. I'll propose a toast."

Her eyes darted around the room quickly as she nodded and she scrambled for a chair, and then pulled it over to him. She kept a slight distance, as if she was afraid of offending him by going too close. In a way, sometimes she felt as though she had no right to be this near to him. Lex Luthor, saviour of mankind, true man of steel…

He held out the glass filled with wine, just the right amount. "How long until the Justice League are over?"

"Oh, the end has already begun for the Justice League. It began when they were divided, ripped apart… I had the Joker stumble across the technology to cause strife with fear gas; I had the news of this gas reach Sinestro… All done whilst I was dead. There's more to come. United they are strong, but divided they will fall. And then, one by one, they'll die."

Her face lit up in a grin. "Who's first?"

Lex raised his glass in toast. "That would be telling."

She smiled and together they drank. He kept drinking, downing his whole glass, and she did too. She wasn't aware of it, but she watched him to see when he stopped so she could stop at the same time. "That was good," he said when they'd finished and sat their glasses back on his desk.

The footage of Superman's press conference was on three different screens at once. Both sets of eyes lingered on it for a few moments. She had been there in the crowd, listening.

"Every word out of his mouth is poison," she spat.

He nodded, and there was a pause, and then – he laughed.

There was a banging on the door but Lex did not turn. His eyes moved from one screen to the other. Stephanie's throat felt tight. What's going on out there?

"Mr Luthor…?"

The banging continued. Voices were rising and falling, high screams for aid on the other side… Lex made a questioning noise.

"They're banging – what is that? Is it for your meeting?"

"More likely it's the neurotoxin seeping from the walls. I'm surprised they're still moving."

Stephanie herself couldn't move; she was rooted to her chair in fear. She tried to open her mouth to speak and found that her tongue was thick and sore, and all the feeling in her mouth had disappeared. And my arms, my legs… what's happening, dear god help me.

His green eyes found her own blue. "It seems you're not moving. Good. I don't like a mess."

She wanted to scream but, slowly, her throat was sealing itself up, blocked. She couldn't feel what with. Mucous forced its way out of her mouth and she began to choke and the agony took her. I'm dying. I'm dying. HELP ME YOU SON OF A BITCH!

"Phlegm? How unattractive." His chair span back to the computer monitors. "Phase two is only just beginning, Miss Glade. It's a pity you won't be here for the fireworks. The destruction of Watchtower was my opening gambit – and they can't even say it was me!"

The words he spoke were muffled to her now, her brain was shutting down slowly and her lungs were screaming for air.

"I mean to save the world from these aliens, these so-called heroes. The people of Earth will chant my name. Lu-thor, Lu-thor, Lu-thor. Perhaps they'll make me president." He was giddy. "This will be a challenge, no doubt, but I'm ready for it. They won't be ready for me."

She made out the sound of a real laugh, something never before had she heard from him. Her eyes began to go dark, patches of light disappearing. He waved as her sight disappeared completely. "Maybe I owe you a quick explanation: during the press conference, a reporter questioned the link between Joker's little rampage and Sinestro's appearance. I can't be having that; it's too close. The reporter was taken care of, naturally, and now I have to plug up all the possible leaks. You understand, of course, that it's a business decision. Nothing personal. You simply know too much."

The last sounds that Stephanie Glade ever heard were the footsteps of Lex Luthor moving off, into the shadow.