2298/Memories: Themysciran Healing II

Memories: Themysciran Healing II
Date of Scene:	01 July 2020
Location:	Themyscira City
Synopsis:	Caitlin and Donna on Themyscira! The retro scene continues as Caitlin and Donna struggle to find words to express their feelings in the wake of the loss of two team-mates.
Cast of Characters:	Donna Troy, Caitlin Fairchild

---

Donna Troy has posed:
    The great waterfall that dominates the city was presumably originally a natural feature, but it has been shaped and channeled into an integral part of the city's architecture. It flows through the city in a series of gentle steps, and is directed into dozens of channels. Many of these end at a pool of varying sizes, which are a popular attraction among the residents of Themyscira. Most of them are busy with women taking the waters, but the one Donna has lead Caitlin to is empty, but for them. This is presumably by arrangment, though Caitlin never saw the arrangements being made.

    The surround of the pool is white marble that shines bright in the brilliant Aegean sun. It descends into the waters in four steps, giving comfortable spots for sitting as well as an easy way down into the water. In the center of the pool a fine pillar of water sprays up in a short fountain from the mouth of a sculpted sea-serpent in the same white marble.

    Donna, or rather Troia, which may take some getting used to, sits back in the waters, leaning comfortably against the marble wall. The water is pleasantly cooling, warm but a lot less warm than the heat of the Themysciran air, and perfect for easing aching muscles. Once she's comfortable she looks over at Caitlin with an inscrutable expression.

    "If you need help climbing in, just ask. But I kind of guess you'd prefer not to have people being too... what's the word... solicitous? If you can manage it yourself. I know I would." She looks away, eyes roaming out over the city that spreads out below them. "I... um. Not sure how much Diana has told you. But I guess you have a lot of questions."

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
"I can do it," Caitlin grumbles. "It just... give me a minute." She's changed into something suitable for swimming; brief grey trunks and a swimmer's halter top in black. Her hair's pulled back and pinned up in a messy bun to keep it out of her way. Getting into the water is a little tricky, involving setting her crutches aside and awkwardly crab-walks down the embankment while favoring her broken leg. Instead of a plaster cast, her femur's protected by a 3D printed brace that keeps it stabilized. Granted, she needed Inconel and titanium instead of plastic, but the principle holds. There are several deep bruises still blooming across her body despite the injuries well over a week old. Signs of heavy impacts and penetrating rounds from something blunt, pointed, and tough enough to pierce her hide.

One she's waist deep the redhead sighs in relief and pauses her descent into the water with a few raspy breaths of pained exertion.

"Diana didn't tell me a lot," Caitlin says, finally. She doesn't quite make eye contact with Donna. "She said we'd find you here. That you grew up here. Trained with the Amazons."

Hands paddle slowly through the water and collect rippling waves to radiate outwards against the steady streams coming down from the waterfall. "We all thought you just... I don't know. Left."

Donna Troy has posed:
    Donna keeps her eyes looking out across the city while Caitlin makes her way into the waters, giving her a little privacy in her struggles. She turns back when she hears the sigh of relief. She's wearing a white bikini Caitlin will have seen before at pool parties at the tower, but judging by the nudity visible at other pools in the distance, this is probably to protect Caitlin's feelings rather than her modesty.

    "I said I'd be back," she says. "And I meant it. I had every intention of coming back. I had some training to complete, that much was true. It's just the details." She sighs and folds her arms behind her head. "I wasn't allowed to tell you about... all this. About Themyiscira. Mother has kept the island a secret from the World of Men for three thousand years. The whole Knights of Ilium thing was a cover story so I had some way of explaining who I was when I went out into the world in my sister's footsteps. The queen insisted I told nobody. I'm sorry, Cait. I really am. I would have told you all if it was my choice, but I couldn't."

    Donna gives Caitlin a faint, apologetic smile. "So Troia is actually my real name, not my code name, and Donna Troy was my code name not my real name. It was always the other way around for me. I'm... well I like being called Donna. Kinda got used to it, you know? So you don't have to change that. It's just..."

    She stops herself with an exasperated sigh. "Caitlin, I would have told you. I almost did, several times. It's not that I didn't trust you, any of you. I promise. I just... I feel bad about it, okay? But it wasn't my choice."

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
"Oh no, it's cool." It's hard for Caitlin to suppress a bitter note in her voice. She still isn't quite able to look Donna in the eye; her posture more wounded than resentful, arms folded defensively across her stomach. "I mean, I told you all about my dad. The labs. Being a freak grown in a test tube."

That had been bare months before Donna had left, a secret entrusted only to the Titans around her. It was a tossup what was more shocking, her close ties to Team 7 or the process that created the redheaded powerhouse.

"'cause like, even Richard--" never 'Dick'-- "clued us in to his personal life."

"But hey, I'm glad your *mom* is happy with you. Nice to know she doesn't trust us."

Caitlin leans forward and pushes off the rock, paddling a few feet out into the pond. Rather childishly, she partially turns away from Donna-- it's impossible to miss the combination of embarassment and humiliation on her face as she lashes out with the petulant tone.

Donna Troy has posed:
    "What should I have done, Cait?" She's trying to sound calm and reasonable, but she can't quite disguise the hint of frustration in her voice. "I promised. Before I left here, I promised I would never tell anyone anything about Themyscira. It was a condition mom set. She didn't want me to leave at all. She didn't want Diana too, either.

    Donna can't help a glance back up at the palace before turning back to Caitlin. Or Caitlin's back, anyway. "You know she left like a hundred years ago? Diana. She had to keep it secret too. She was out there for most of that time. Mom was not happy that Diana wasn't here, and she always worried that Diana would let the secret slip. Part of the reason she let me go in the end was she thought I could encourage Diana to come home. But... I couldn't, Cait. I couldn't tell you because it would have been breaking a promise I made before I'd even met you. Hades, Cait. It would have been /treason/."

    Donna gives a long sigh. "It killed me not to tell you, Cait. Especially after all the things you told me. I know you trusted me with things you didn't even tell all the rest of the Titans. It didn't feel good, Cait. Hearing you reveal that stuff to me and knowing I was keeping secrets from you. But it was never because I didn't trust you. It was because I had promised. I'm sorry, I really am."

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
"Would-- stop saying 'I'm sorry!'" Caitlin demands, whirling. The motion is quick enough that the twist of her shoulders sends a four-inch crest of water rising around her. Her eyes are gone a little red alreay with a dampness irritating them. "You didn't tell us *anything*!" she accuses Donna. "You didn't just say 'I can't talk about it'." Grief and frustration bubble forth in her tone. "You told us all these stories a-about the Knights, about who you were. Why you *left* us. I didn't even know your real name until two days ago!"

Caitlin is not someone who cries gracefully; her face is blotchy and she sniffs hard, wiping the back of her wrist under her nose. "So I don't know who you are, but you're not my friend Donna, s-so I-- I don't even know what I'm *doing* here." Caitlin turns and paddles back towards the escarpment and pulls herself out of the water, the motion awkwardly hampered by slick stones and the brace around her thigh.

Donna Troy has posed:
    Donna gets to her feet to follow Caitlin. "How can I stop saying I'm sorry if you don't stop being /hurt/, Cait?" She stops following after a few steps, standing there in silence for a moment as she watches Caitlin pull herself from the water.

    "I /am/ your friend Donna," she says finally. "I'm the same person. Just because... because of this... doesn't mean I'm suddenly a different person than the one you've known all these years. It doesn't mean I care any less about you! What else could I do, Cait? Please. Please sit down. "

    "The Knights of Ilium thing... that was... I had to say something. Had to find some kind of vaguely believable story, because otherwise there's no way I could have kept the promises I made to my mother. To the /queen/, Cait. But I made it as close to the truth as I could. I told you my real name. I just... I couldn't tell you it was my real name."

    There's a small splash as Donna slumps back down to a seated position in the water, head in hands. "Damn it, Caitlin. If you want to hate me, at least hate me for the right reasons, not for this. I didn't have a choice!"

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
"That's not why I hate you!" Caitlin says, voice high and twisted like piano wire under tension. "You got to walk away, and you've got everything, and we've all g-got-- nothing! There's nothing left for us, no m-moms, no Don or K-Kole--" She's crying in earnest now. "And you're more worried about making your m-mom happy than your own friends!"

"I tho--" Caitlin gulps back a sob and looks skyward, tears streaking her cheeks. "I thought you were *my* family. So finding out I got that wrong, is..."

She shakes her head and picks up her crutches and a little daypack. It's hard to flee in an adolescent snit with a broken femur, but Caitlin makes the best time she can, hobbling down a side path towards the city but not immediately towards the palace.

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
In the moment it's easy to hurl those sharp barbs. For the next two full days, Caitlin avoids Donna. Not that it's really possible to *avoid* someone in a community the size of Themyscira-- particularly not as a guest of the Queen and Diana. When their paths cross during meals and events, Caitlin keeps her eyes averted and downcast away from Donna-- often maneuvering to hide behind Diana or useful statuary in the process.

It's two nights later before Caitlin comes around, this time to see Donna. The redhead's taken to the brief tunics preferred socially by the women of Themyscira, loose and comfortable to move in. She knocks twice on Donna's partially open door.

When Donna opens it, the redhead rocks back on her heels with an instinctive flight impulse before settling her weight. "I, um." She looks down at her feet, realizes she's holding a box in her hands, and fumblingly offers it to Donna. "I forgot to, um. This. Letters and stuff from the others. 'n some cookies."

She clears her throat, glancing at Donna's face once, then looking down at a food probing a bump in the stones under it. "Cookies are prolly a little stale by now," she admits.

Donna Troy has posed:
    Donna takes the box with a wordless nod of her head, then carries it into her room, leaving the door open. She sits on the edge of her bed, with the box on her lap, staring down at it.

    "Are you coming in?" she asks after a moment. "You're um. Looking better. Themyscira agrees with you. The healers are very pleased with your progress. She's... she's not really my mother, you know."

    She looks up from the box again, and opens her mouth to speak, then shuts it again, and shakes her head. "That much was true. I told you I was an orphan adopted into a mystic order of knights, and that's kind of what happened. The queen isn't really my mother. I have no idea who my real parents are, nothing about them except that they are almost certainly dead. I'm not an Amazon. I washed up on the beach as a baby. It happens sometimes. If it's a girl, they are raised in the society of the Amazons, taught our ways, and when they reach twenty-two, they are returned to the World of Men as... representitives, I guess. For some reason, the queen decided to adopt me. Maybe she was missing Diana, I dunno. But... that's the truth. She adopted me. Gave me..." there's a shake of her head. "A family. My powers. Her love. /Everything/. I don't know why I was so lucky. I don't question it."

"And I am lucky. I must be the luckiest woman in the world, because when I went to America, I was adopted by another family. They... /you/... mean the world to me too, Cait. My brothers and sisters. And now we lost a brother and a sister, and it hurts. It hurts me, and it hurts you, and it hurts me that it hurts you. And it's.... It's... It's..."

    "It's probably my fault it happened."

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
Caitlin slouches into the room at the invitation. An apology is on her lips, but is checked by Donna's exposition-- her mouth hangs open in surprise at the story. Her crutches are swiftly becoming more inconvenience than necessity, but Caitlin still hobbles on them into Donna's room and finds a sturdy looking stone slab to sit on, her bad leg out in front of her.

Her eyes well up at Donna's claims, and she shakes head despite herself. The back of her wrist brushes tears away from her green eyes.

"No, uh... it wasn't your fault, Donna," Caitlin sniffles. She tries for a wry, trembling smile; it flashes once and is gone, like a firefly winking in and out. "It was mine. M-me and Richard. We had a whole plan worked out. He was calling the terrain from the rear. I was up front wrangling things. Trying to tank Do-- it. I never--" she shakes her nead and grips her shoulder, rolling it uncomfortably against a straining click of still-healing tendons. "I never got hit so hard in my entire life. I kept knocking it down. It k-kept getting back up. I tripped and it kicked my leg." A hand rests on the brace. "Just like that. I'd never broken a bone before. It would have ki--" she swallows, trembling. "Then... it g-gets kind of hazy after that, I remember Kole trying to trap it, and Don, h-he dove, and..."

Caitlin swallows hard and looks down at her feet, shaking her head.

"You weren't the one making the calls. It's not your fault."

Donna Troy has posed:
    "Are you going to blame yourself for not being stronger than you are?" Donna asks, her eyes back on the box. "For not being my sister, or being a Kryptonian? Is it Dick's fault that he couldn't come up with a plan to do the impossible? Look at yourself, Cait. You were there, you gave it your all, you nearly... you did everything you could. I wasn't even /there/!"

    Donna wipes the back of her hand across her eyes very quickly, hoping Caitlin wouldn't notice. "Kole and Don shouldn't have had to be in that position. And you shouldn't have had to try to tank it without me standing by your side. You're my family and I wasn't there when you needed me, because I'm... because I was stupid and didn't listen and I... I was a coward."

    Donna puts the box down beside her and puffs her cheeks out. She pinches the bridge of her nose, wincing, then looks up at Caitlin again. "This must be... I mean all of this, here. It must be kinda confusing to you. I mean because of your religion." She gestures towards a window sill, where a small silver statue of Athena with an owl on her arm stands. "Does it bother you?"

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
Caitlin looks up at the word 'coward', automatically shaking her head 'no'. Her mouth curls around the word. But Donna's obviously not wanting to be seen crying, and there's a little, petty part of Caitlin that in this moment is just a little cruel. Instead, a silence hangs between them, and in it, Caitlin's shame deepens as she fails to rise to Donna's defense.

It's a lot for the young woman to unpack and she's still struggling with it when Donna seats herself. Caitlin clears her throat and tries to sit upright, then look away, nonchalantly. She is not a good poker player; torn between not wanting to offend Donna's own beliefs, but being too inherently honest to admit the truth.

"It's, um... I mean, it's not... uh, my thing. But y'know, it's a free country."

She realizes what she's seeing and her ears pink at the tips. "I-I mean---" she looks around, and palms her face with an embarassed smile. "You know what I mean. Sorry."

Donna Troy has posed:
    "You don't believe it. You think we're all a bunch of crazy deluded pagans." Donna smiles slightly. Awkward as this conversation is, it's a little less awkward, for her at least, than the one hanging over them. "It's okay, you can say it."

    "Nobody will be offended by your beliefs, Cait. I mean they'll look at you really strangely if you try to tell them that the... that our Gods don't exist. Because... Well. I mean you should prepare yourself."

    Donna moves a hand back to the box of letters and cookies. She still doesn't move to open it - she's not sure she could cope with seeing the letters right now, but she plays with the box idly, shoving it from side to side. "They don't claim to have created the universe, you know. So it's not... well it isn't like it's completely incompatible with what you believe. Maybe you could see them as angels or something. I don't want you to struggle with this, Cait. But you may see things when you're here which will be hard to take if you don't find some kind of... you know. Compromise. I don't mean compromising your beliefs, or changing anything, just... adjusting things so that both things can be true, you know? I don't want to upset you. Or for you to get upset by something else."

    She looks up to Cait, a look in her eyes that's almost pleading. "Both things can be true," she says.

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
"I didn't say anyone's crazy," Caitlin mutters with a defensive irritation. Emotions are still roiling close to her thin skin and she hugs her stomach defensively. "You're the one who brought it up."

A hand gestures. "It's not like I don't believe in magic, Donna. Or the supernatural. Look at who we train with. Who we /live/ with."

A sudden perceptiveness hits her, and she tilts her head curiously at Donna. "Wait, hol' on," she says, lifting a hand. "We've been living in the same tower as Raven for what, four years? And if she's not the daughter of the literal devil--" Caitlin makes a little warding gesture over her heart in the shape of a cross, unconsciously-- "then's she darn close to it. What is it you think I'm gonna see here that I am going to reject out of hand?"

Donna Troy has posed:
    "She isn't..." Donna stops herself with a shake of the head, realising she was about to get overly defensive of Raven. "He's not the devil. If I understand your m... beliefs, the devil is a kind of... an anti-God, right? Like the personification of evil. He's more like someone who's chosen to be evil, like an evil person. Just way /more/ evil and more powerful. Kind of a self-created demon."

    She looks up from the box. "Cait, it's not that I'm worried you're going to reject something out of hand. It's... look, I don't care that you don't share my... this. That's fine. It's not like I'm trying to convert you or anything. And I'm not going to be offended if you think I'm wrong about things. It's just that..."

    She looks indecisive, her head bouncing from side to side as she figures out how to say it. "It's that I'm not. Wrong. To us, these Gods and Goddesses aren't a matter of faith, they are a matter of fact. If you think they're not truly Gods, that's fine. I mean it's just words. If you want to use that word to mean something that's bigger and more universal than they are, then that's fine. I mean call them /t'eoi/ instead, that's what we call them. "

    She stares at Caitlin for a few moments, then lowers her head with a sigh. "I know how important it is to you, Cait. I just don't want you to get hurt. Your belief is a part of who you are, and I'm... I've been worrying that bringing you here could cause you problems. You should be here to heal, not to find new things to doubt yourself about."

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
Caitlin bites her lower lip, hard, and her face goes flat as Donna starts into the long explanation about the nature of comparative theology versus practical cosmology. Tension shifts in her legs like she's almost preparing to get up. Donna's sigh pauses her and then the muscles relax at the Amazon's quiet explanation of her intent. Caitlin's eyes track sideway, looking out the window at the twinkling stars over Themyscira; she folds up her ire and packs it away again. Emotions are running high for them both, it seems.

"I'm-- I'm not going to recant, Donna," she says with a quiet, and firm tone of voice. "The godd-- the.. t'eoi," she says, cautiously. "I'm sure they're very ... potent. And they're very real to you. I don't think they'd have any interest in me," she says, angling for something reassuring. "I'm not going to fault anyone from praying and I'm not going to walk around handing out copies of the Bible. I don't proselytize. Faith calls its own."

She leans her shoulders back against the stone behind her with a thudding exhalation, and looks up at the intricate architecture of the roof of Donna's bedroom. "I mean, who knows what's out there. It's a big universe. I don't share the faith, but I'm not going to say they're any more or less real than the Aztecs, o-or the..." she fumbles. "Norwegian gods, whatever their name is. I forget."

Donna Troy has posed:
    "I'm not suggesting you should share the faith, Cait. I don't /want/ you to change, it's just..." Donna stands up suddenly and rubs her face. "I don't know about the pantheons of the Aztecs or Vikings, Cait. I do know that... all I'm trying to say is you should prepare yourself. Settle on something... some kind of accommodation that works for your faith, that's all I'm saying."

    She walks over to the window, a hand resting on the silver statuette. "I guess Athena didn't give me enough of her wisdom," she says with a small laugh, then looks back at Caitlin with a smile, though it's only her lips that are smiling, not her eyes. "I'm trying to say that you may witness things while you are here that could cause you unnnecessary... heartache. If you don't find that kind of accomodation."

    Donna stares out the window at the city below. "Maybe you'll end up hating me, Cait. But you're my sister. Whatever happened, whatever happens. I love you, I care about you. I want you to get better, and I don't want you to be hurt.

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
There's silence from behind Donna. Then, a rustling of cloth and metal as Caitlin gets to her feet and gets a crutch under her. "I'm, uh... I'm gonna go lay down," she mutters. "My hamstrings are cramping again." Donna's looking out the window; Caitlin looks at that raven hair, trying to guess the expression on her friend's face. Uncertainty and doubt flickers over her features, adolescent indecision mired in a very real pain and grief. Her green eyes go flinty again and she shakes her head, limping out the door. On the lintle she pauses, halfway into the corridor. "I know I sound like just a rube from the cornfields." Her words are low and wounded, carrying to Donna's ears. "If you're that worried about me embarassing you in front of the Queen, I'll just lay low until Diana says it's time to go."

She starts down the hall with an arrhythmic shuffle-click of her crutches, staring at the stones a few yards ahead as if trying to keep the guilt from firing those barbs off her face.

Donna Troy has posed:
    "Hera give me..." It's cheating. It would be cheating even if Caitlin wasn't on crutches, because Donna may not have Wally's speed but she's still crazily fast. One moment Caitlin is withdrawing, getting out of the way and not having to face Donna, the next moment Donna is in front of her.

    "Caitlin! How can you think... It's not LIKE that!" Her voice is raised and the frustration is evident. "I'm not worried about you embarrassing me. I would never, ever be ashamed of you. I'm worried for /you/. Don't you get what I'm trying to tell you? I don't mind what you believe. If it's part of what makes you who you are then I am /happy/ that you believe it, because that means it's part of what makes you my friend. But this is not... you can't just dismiss it Cait. Don't you get it? The t'eoi aren't just a myth. You are among people who have /met/ them Cait." She raises her arms, showing her bracelts. "The metal these are forged from came from the furnaces of Hephaestus. It's /real/. I was /trying/ to spare you a shock. I wanted you to understand that you don't have to doubt your beliefs, or doubt yourself, just because of this. Okay?"

    Donna folds her arms, staring at Caitlin, and shakes her head. "Sorry. I... maybe there was a better way to say that, but I couldn't think of it. Please stop... ever since you came here, Cait, you've been doing... this. Putting yourself down. Acting like you don't deserve to be here. Try to get it through your head, Caitlin Fairchild. In all of the recorded history of human kind, only a few dozen women have been welcomed to this island, and you are one of them. Can you please get that through your skull? The only person who doubts you is... you. This island... these people, the Amazons. The reason we even exist is because the world sometimes needs people who have strength and compassion, who care deeply and wish the world to be a better place, and have in their arms and in their hearts the power to do something about it. People like /you/, Cait. You're here because you deserve to be. You're as much an Amazon as I am. Maybe more. Diana believes in you. I believe in you..."

    "Can't you just believe in yourself? Please?"

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
Caitlin's last ragged nerve is fraying fast. She can only limp so fast on that crutch, and Donna no more wants to block Caitlin than Cait wants to push through her. The redhead backtracks, goes through a side hall, and finds herself trying to descend a long, curved stairwell down into a courtyard, with Donna on her heels. It's relatively late; there are only a few people to witness the redhead making the awkward descent down the stairs.

She's at the first landing when Donna makes that last plaintive pitch, and the redhead twists abruptly back towards Donna.

"You didn't get them KILLED!" The last word is spoken like a cannon blast, a hurricane in a single syllable; it can probably be heard on the other side of the island. Maybe in adjacent points of the Aegean.

In the ringing echoes, Caitlin bites back a hoarse sob, and starts trying to scurry off again. She's going too fast, and treacherous old stones betray her footing. The redhead trips and lands hard on her broken leg. Doesn't matter how tough you are-- a broken bone reads as nauseating agony, and she cries out in a more sincere pain, rolling to her side and grabbing her brace with both hands.

Pain turns to sobbing, and she sits with one hand awkwardly grabbing her thigh and the other palm covering her face as if trying to contain all that physical and emotional pain at once.

Donna Troy has posed:
    Donna is by Caitlin's side almost instantly. "CAITLIN! Are you... is it okay? I'll get the healers. You shouldn't... don't move it, okay? Don't try to get up." She kneels next to her friend, studying the leg carefull, to see if she can see any signs of significant damage, but nothing is eminently visible.

    She turns her head this way and that, then shouts something in Themysciran. Caitlin will catch the name 'Epione', the chief of the healers. Then she turns back to Caitlin. She blinks wordlessly a few times, then the tears she had been holding back for days suddenly overwhelm her defenses and start flooding down her cheeks. Her face twists with misery and she wraps her arms around Caitlin's shoulders.

    "Cait... Cait. Your wrong. If anyone got them killed it was me. You did everything you could for them while I just hid here on this island. I should have been there. Don't you see? When we met, you'd only been alive for a year, and I'd been training for this for a decade. When Dick first met Batman, I had been training for two years already. I was the most experienced Titan, and maybe the most powerful, and I wasn't even there. I abandoned you, and you all paid the price."

    "I could have been there, Cait. I could have. I didn't have to come back when I did. I could have stayed. I was... I was confused and humiliated and... I ran away, because I would face anyone on the battlefield but I was too much of a coward to face my own emotional messes, and I ran back home with my tail between my legs and I left you all, and then..."

    She pulls away suddenly, slumping down to sit next to Caitlin, her back against the wall and no longer trying to hide her tears and misery. "It's my fault. I got them killed. You did everything you could to save them... to save everyone. If it wasn't enough, that's because of me, because I wasn't there beside you when I should have been."

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
"Yeah, well... you should have been," Caitlin sniffles. She brushes her wrist around her nose, glancing up once only at the call for Epione. "I'm not-- I'm not pissed at you, Donna. I'm pissed at Queen Hippolyta," she admits.

"We needed you. We gave it everything we had. Every moment, every *second* Doomsday wasn't fighting us, he was cutting a swathe through New York. I've never-- I can't even wrap my brain around it. It was like a force of nature with a nasty laugh. It *enjoyed* it," she says, bitterly.

"No one but Superman, and Diana, were able to stop it. But we slowed it down. We hurt it. We made it remember us."

Caitlin's eyes are hollow, staring at a middle distance a thousand yard away.

"I hit it as hard as I could. And it *laughed*. It laughed at me," she whispers. Her voice is hoarse, and empty. "I aint-- I--"

She looks down at her hands. Nails still cracked, fresh skin still growing over her knuckles.

"I'm glad you weren't there, because-- because I don't think I could bear burying another friend," she whispers.

Donna Troy has posed:
"It's not mom's fault, don't blame her." Donna studies the stonework of the wall opposite with laser-like focus. "It was all me. I left sooner than I was supposed to. Because... because I was too proud and too sure of myself to listen to the rest of you, and ... this place may seem kind of overwhelming to you, Cait. But it's /small/. Coming from here, America was... the World of Men is so big in comparison. There's so much there, so much to see and learn that was totally alien to me. So when I went to university and suddenly there was this entire world there, it was..." she sighs long and deeply.

    "Every single one of you told me that Marv was a mistake. I thought I had it figured, but you were right and I was wrong. He taught me so much. It felt like he was giving me a whole world, and I fell for it. It was a dumb, stupid, crush. Like I was a dumb kid. What kind of idiot falls for their college professor? Me, apparently. Cait, you have a fraction of my experience, and even you could see it. Why couldn't I? Raven... she... I... She... she let me see it. Let me see how dumb I had been. And instead of facing up to it, facing the mess I had made, I made an excuse to you all, and I came home months earlier than I was supposed to. Ran away. I let you all down."

    The tears start up again, but her face remains pretty still this time - but for the tears she seems almost emotionless. "If you'd buried me instead of Don and Kole... I don't know, Cait. Maybe I'd have made the difference. Maybe together we could have slowed it down and nobody would have died. But I..." She draws in a deep, shuddering breath. "I'd trade places with them, Cait. In a heartbeat."

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
Healers come running; experts in medicine, their practice honed over millennia. Caitlin tries to wave them off, but Eponia's crew dismisses her, and hefts the redhead into a stretcher. Eponia's probing Caitlin's leg with strong fingers, provoking a hiss from the redhead and a polite attempt to dislodge those expert fingers.

The medics get Caitlin on a cot, forcing her to lay back. Eponia starts scolding Caitlin about stressing a barely-healed fractured bone.

They've got her on the stretcher, but at the last minute Caitlin grabs Donna's hand, hard, and looks up at her friend.

"I wish I could trade places with them, too," she admits. The confession takes something from Caitlin-- a pound of flesh, scooped right from her heart.

The look she exchages with Donna is one of absolute defeat and resignation, and then Eponia's pushing hands away and barking instructions at the orderlies to cart Caitlin towards the healer's building as no less than six Amazons jog the redheaded guest off towards the infirmary. Caitlin's fingers trail down Donna's arm, until she can reach no more. Then they're gone, leaving nothing of the redhead behind except for the smell of fresh-baked food and a single, forgotten crutch.