Nightwing: Heartache

Part 26 Hall of Justice

September 6, 7:45pm
Hall of Justice

It sucked that she couldn't get wasted. Willa held her champagne flute in her hand, just to have something to hold. She was in the Hall of Justice, just like Granny wanted. It was some joint benefit honoring superheroes and everyday heroes. Sponsored by Goode World Studios and Lexcorp. The companies had announced it publicly before the Justice League was able to say no, and after that, it was impossible to backtrack. The League had enough public perception problems as it was.

"Where's Evan tonight? Gretchen said we could bring a plus one."

It took a minute for Willa to process Ryder's question. Right, her boyfriend. She wasn't quite close enough with Ryder to explain that Evan was most definitely having a better evening than her, across the country in a bar or club or something. He would call her later, probably drunk, convinced he saw the cutest boy ever dancing on a table.

"Hey, you okay?" Ryder asked from beside her, "you seem nervous."

She was nervous. She felt claustrophobic, like there was a mounting tension in the room. It didn't feel right, to be in the same room as these superheroes, so publicly. Every time she turned around, she thought she saw figures, hiding in the shadows, waiting to jump out at her. This was ridiculous, in a building with the world's mightiest heroes should make Willa feel safe, and it wasn't rational, but it was making her feel trapped instead.

Ryder didn't get it. He was giddy, eyes darting from hero to hero, trying to decide which one to ask for an autograph first. "Have you seen Batman?" He asked, craning his neck.

Honestly, Willa was actively avoiding looking for Batman. Before she could answer though, Lois Lane and a photographer approached them. Willa was at least happy to see Lois Lane, her familiar face just as kind as years prior.

"You two mind if I ask a few questions?" She asked the two movie stars.

Willa smiled, "it'd be an honor."

Lois smiled back. The click of the camera told Willa they were being photographed. Lois took her phone out to take a voice recording. "How does it feel to brush elbows with the Justice League?"

"It's so cool," Ryder answered, "better than my wildest dreams."

"Does it add any pressure to your portrayal of a superhero, Mr. Woods?"

"Definitely," Ryder got a little more serious, "look, I'm just an actor, but these people, the real heroes, they actually save lives. Risk their own. It's a huge amount of pressure, but a huge honor, to try and tell a story like that, even if it's fictional."

Sometimes Willa looked at her co-star and wondered if he knew how big he was going to be after this movie came out. She jumped at a touch on her lower back. She had to fight the urge to punch Lex Luthor in the face for touching her, but she couldn't, not with this camera trained on her, not at his own event where he could spin whatever lies he wanted. All she could do was stiffen and try to arch away from him.

"Ms. Lane, wonderful to see you again," Lex said smoothly, keeping his hand on Willa's back, putting his other on Ryder's shoulder, "and speaking to our brightest stars. Please, don't let me interrupt." He looked at Lois, urging her to continue the interview.

Lois looked at Willa, and Willa could see the solidarity, the assurance that if Willa chose, Lois would help her kick the shit out of Lex Luthor right here in the middle of the room. That was enough. Willa lifted her chin, telling Lois to keep going.

"Just one more question," Lois said, "do you feel any responsibility, portraying heroes? Making choices, even just theatrical ones, about their morals, assumptions about their private lives?"

"I think there's a responsibility portraying anyone," Willa answered after mulling over her answer, "our intent is not to speak for our real heroes, but hopefully remind people that they're more than just ours, you know? These people, for all their extraordinary gifts and strong moral compasses, they're also just people trying to do the right thing. They feel, and suffer, and love, and I think that humanization...I think it makes them even braver. Or at least, I hope it does."

"That was much more eloquent than whatever I was going to say," Ryder quipped, shooting Willa a grin.

Lois nodded, a proud smile on her lips, "thank you for your time."

An announcement came from the stage area, where a podium stood in place, ready for Lex Luthor to make a speech. Gretchen Goode and Aquaman already stood, the picture of diplomacy.

"If you'll excuse me," Lex said and walked up to the stage to a smattering of applause. Willa used the opportunity to sneak past a curtain into the hallway.

This event was crazy, crawling with photographers, but that was the point. Getting as much physical proof of the League's positive relationship with Goode World Studios. It would do wonders for the movie's marketing, if it looked like the Justice League supported it. The number of cameras though? Hence why she couldn't get wasted.

The hallway was relatively empty, just the bartender and some stragglers going to and from the bathroom. She could still hear the main room. She sat down on the staircase, setting her drink down and rubbing her foot through her shoes. She looked up at a giant shadow over her.

Superman sat down on the steps next to her. He leaned back, rolling his neck. "Are you as miserable as you look right now?"

Willa laughed, "I wouldn't say miserable."

"Then what would you say?" When he looked at her a piece of black hair dangled down. A reminder that not everything about the Man of Steel was perfect.

Willa hesitated. "I would say...uncomfortable. I don't know, I just feel like my skin is crawling and I can't make it stop. Like I'm walking through quicksand."

"Textbook anxiety."

She rubbed her eye, "this is ridiculous. This is literally the safest place ever."

Superman paused, picked at his nails for a minute before speaking. "You know, Lois did a piece on survivors of terrorist attacks two years ago. What she found was survivors often felt the most anxious, panicked, or scared, in places where they should feel the safest, because it was a reminder of how unsafe they once were."

Willa listened but stared at the pattern on the stairs.

"A lot of survivors spoke about how, after the attacks, going places they had gone before, or going to public places, or really anywhere that reminded them of their trauma, felt like flaunting their life, like asking the universe to try and kill them again."

"I've never been in a terrorist attack, Superman," Willa said quietly.

"No, but I think that sentiment is applicable to a lot of trauma."

Willa wiped her eyes as nonchalantly as possible. "You suck, you know that, Supes?"

Clark raised his eyebrows in mock hurt, "what did I do?"

"It's rude to psychoanalyze people in public."

He barked out a laugh. "My bad, I was trying to comfort a friend."

Willa shook her head. It still felt cool to hear Superman refer to her as a friend. "You'd be a great dad," Willa eventually said.

Clark looked genuinely surprised, but his gaze softened, leaning in a little closer, "we'll see soon, I guess."

"What?!"

He nodded, affirming the statement he just said. Willa thought back to her interaction with Lois. She had been glowing, but no bump, no extra weight. God, they were going to be such good parents. She groaned and leaned back on her elbows. "You two just keep finding ways to make the world a better place."

Clark matched her pose, lazily stretching over the stairs, "well, I am Superman."

Willa laughed again, and Clark joined in. "Willa?" Clark asked.

"Yes, Superman?"

"That man over there is taking our picture."

"Yeah, I know."