Dipping back into Young Justice, my truest love. Hope everyone enjoys!~


They should have checked up on him.

Four months had gone by since the near cataclysm of Earth by the Reach, since the original Kid Flash's death at the North Pole.

A few days later Nightwing had dropped off of the grid, communications cut and Blüdhaven apartment closed to visitors. They thought it would be best to give him some space, let him come back when he was ready.

They should have pushed harder.

The first hint was a missed birthday. Tim Drake's, the current Robin's birthday to be precise. July 19th came and past without so much as a mumble from Dick, uncharacteristic but understandable in the wake of such a tragedy. It didn't sit well with Tim but he didn't pursue it.

There was nothing to say.

They should have found something.

Crime statistics in Blüdhaven became more volatile, some weeks the arrests were record setting for the city, others days would pass without a sound from their vigilante.

This time the stretch was longer, almost a week.

Why did they let this happen?

The breaking point came on November 11th.

It's Wally's, was Wally's, birthday.

Artemis was tired of it. Tired of the heartache, the pitying looks, the lonely bed and house. But she put up with it, she was getting better, slowly and painfully, but better nonetheless.

But she wasn't well enough to spend today without one of her closest friends, one of his closest friends, especially not because of his self-imposed exile. As if it was all his fault.

It was early morning, or late at night, depending on who you asked, when she zetaed into Blüdhaven. The hideout was unused since the team had moved to the Watchtower but it still showed signs of its intense use after the destruction of Mount Justice, a handful of empty chips bags stuffed under a cot, small arsenal of practice weapons tucked about here and there.

It was a chapter in the team's life she had missed yet one she had directly caused. The taste left in her mouth was sour at the thought.

As a distraction she pulled her phone from her pocket, walking briskly to the exit as she called Dick, knowingly in vain. It didn't even ring this time, going straight to a strangely chipper voicemail, echos of a different time.

The sigh is one of frustration but not surprise, similar results coming from a communicator call. She tucked that after in phone, shrugging her civvies jacket tighter around her shoulders as she slipped into the brisk city air.

The city was alive with police sirens at this hour but the main streets retained that eerie quiet of a place to public for the shadier dealings. She was uninterested in analyzing it, only lightly armed in her civilian persona. It wasn't her city, not her place to interfere unless invited.

The walk was still familiar, there were some nights, years ago, that Artemis used to join Nightwing in the alleys and rooftops, when he was still new to the solo gig. Those same nights often ended in a movie night, Wally always late, popcorn littering the floor from good hearted fun and clumsy speedsters.

She pushed the thoughts away, ducking into a tight alley adjacent to Dick's window. A quick glance around showed the presence of no one else and with a short sprint and jump she used the dumpster as a springboard, catching the edge of his window and pulling herself up.

The window came open easily, uncharacteristically unlocked. As she climbed in a faint breeze stirred the curtains, a red reminiscent of his days as Robin.

The apartment was spotless, hauntingly so, and had a distinct air of disuse that made the hair on her arms raise. On instinct her hands slipped into her pockets, fingers closing around small smoke bombs in case she needed a distraction. Her steps are light as she moved through the small flat, eyes and ears alert for any inkling of danger.

But the apartment was clean aside from the thin layer of dust that clung to her fingertips as she brushed her hand over his dresser, pressing the secret button fitted neatly up and over the back.

A section of the wall moved away revealing his alter ego, the suit inside more ragged and stitched up when she had last seen it but not enough so to explain the unsettling feeling.

Something was wrong and she needed to find out what.

Artemis preformed another search of the apartment, this time more invasive, leaving no area unchecked. Inside the second drawer beside his bed she found his phone and communicator, both dead, and that was when the unease really began to set in. Dick was rarely caught with either of them dead, let alone both, and never was he without at least one of them on his person. Unless there was foul play.

She redoubled her efforts, wishing she had the forethought to bring either Barbara or Tim with her; not that she had expected the need for a thorough search of the place when she had set off.

As she knelt to check under the bed something finally caught her eye, the slightest tear the bed sheet, mostly covered by the overhang of the comforter. She knew better than to ignore it, especially considering the people she was dealing with.

She flicked away the sheet revealing a wider tear, one that pushed into the mattress, and drew a small bolt from her crossbow, tearing the hole large enough to slip her hand in. Almost immediately her fingers bump against razor sharp metal and she gingerly moved to grab it, careful not to cut herself.

Once out it was unmistakable, the curve was burned into her memory from her time working with the Light. And the tips of the S insignia were stained with the rust color of dried blood.

If only they were there for him, then maybe they'd know where he is.

Dick Grayson was officially declared missing on November 11, 2016. It would have been Wally's 22nd birthday.


I might continue this, I'm not sure, and I only have vague ideas right now. If anyone is interested or more or has ideas please leave me a comment, I'd love the feedback :)

~Fate