Warnings: there is nothing graphic about this.
Disclaimer: I still do not own Young Justice...sob...
The mind was an alluring feature: far more entrancing than any body part, especially to a telepath. The body would wither and die, but the mind only blossomed and grew in intelligence with age.
Megan had not been able to resist peering into the blonde's archer's mind, breaking down the small mental defenses. Although Artemis currently had amnesia, which caused her memories to be too splintered for any narrative to be found, but Megan could catch glimpses of unknown faces and battles.
Artemis' mind was marred by images of death, but Megan only felt curious as she saw them. Shifting her focus through the various shards of memory, Megan came to an image unlike the others in Artemis' mind.
It was not a gory image; it was the simple appearance of a tall, well-built man. The memory was faded, but the man's sandy blonde hair and piercing brown eyes bore into Megan's focus. Of all of Artemis' memories, the image of her father was the only thing to provoke a reaction from the Martian.
Megan needed to find this man even if it was just to talk to him: becoming spellbound by the husky drawl of his voice. Conner was nothing compared to the older man, neither in personality or physique. Lately, Megan had grown disgusted by the clone's ignorance.
"Where is your husband? I'm looking for a Mr. Crock?"
Paula Crock eyed the redhead girl, who had suddenly appeared at her door that morning, suspiciously. "He doesn't live here anymore. I'm asking you to leave."
"I need to find him."
What does she want? To kill me? Where's the shotgun...Okay…just pretend to be a weak cripple. She won't suspect anything…
"I can read your mind, Tigress. Yes, keep thinking about your husband."
"What…?" Paula gasped as her mind was forced into memories of her husband the Sportsmaster. Times, places, crime-spress, dates, and becoming a mother were recalled and seen by Megan.
"Unfortunately, there can only be one Paula Crock."
"It's been a long time, Huntress."
Megan began tracing the glass with her fingertips, remembering Paula's memories to calm her anxiety. "Things have changed."
"What? I was surprised that the now high and mighty Paula Crock would spend time with me. You were such a saint to escape crime."
Megan looked up towards Lawrence, "Weren't you always the one for reunions?"
"Yes…" Lawrence paused, taking another swig of the cheap wine he had ordered in the dingy restaurant. "I see that breaking your legs in only made you love me more."
Megan's heart sped up, beating fearfully at the thought of failure. The man before her was violent, cocky, and vindictive, but his personality was ensnaring. Looking through Paula's memories, Lawrence had been kind and romantic, but also dominating and protective. The Sportsmaster had only broken Paula's legs after she had given up being a villain and taken their daughter away from him.
"It wasn't that bad. I always did have a flare for the dramatics…"
Megan felt slightly assured that Lawrence wouldn't harm her; unlike Paula, she couldn't fathom being away from the man before her. Her Martian elders had spoken of such obsessions that transcended the vapid titles of lovers and enemies. Megan could feel an emotional link forming between her and Lawrence; ultimately he might share some of her telepathic abilities.
Despite how intoxicating the Sportmaster was to her, J'onn would never accept it. Not even her friends on Young Justice would not tolerate it.
Megan's tenure as a law-abbiding hero for the side of good was over; she was no longer the naive Martian who had moral standards against reading other people's minds. She belonged with Lawrence Crock, no matter what she called herself.
Three years had passed since she had arranged to meet with Lawrence; three years since she had last been apart of the Young Justice team. She had gathered her friends, telling them that she had to leave, but never gave them the real reason. A swift, telepathic blast had temporarily knocked her team out and allowed her to escape on her bioship.
They had tried finding her, but every attempt had failed. Not even J'onn could sense her telepathically. When Green Martians used telepathy to track, they focused on the person's personality. Whatever defined the person and the way they acted, not their thoughts and secrets, allowed them to be found.
Megan had drastically changed since then, becoming hardly recognizable. She acted, looked, and thought like an idealized version of Paula Crock for Lawrence. Only Megan's fleeting memories of the past differentied her from Paula.
The Martian stood out on the porch of the little home Lawrence had bought, looking out into the night sky. Her hands lowered and cupped her belly, feeling the faintest kick of her baby within her. Megan and Lawrence's love existed in her unborn child; she would not try getting rid of it. Even if giving birth might lead to Lawrence finally realizing that she wasn't Paula, the child must be born.
Her heart bled for Lawrence, her body fought for him, and her mind only thought of ways to protect him. Lawrence must be in love with the newer version of Paula: a vast improvement from the human Megan had eliminated three years ago.
The fetus's emotions surged through their telepathic link, filling Megan with a sense of hope. The Martian had finally found her place here on Earth, giving up everything that she could have been for the Sportsmaster.
AN: Wow. I tried writing a het one-shot. High five! I purposely left some areas of this story vague or not quite explained to make this one-shot short as possible, so just ask me if there is anything you want to know.
I don't think I'll ever flesh this out into a full-length fic, but anyone is welcome to adopt the story.