I wrote this months and months ago but never got around to posting it. The prompt was "Apocalypse."
"Are you sure you can handle coming here?"
"Why would this place be any different from the others, Artemis?" Barbara asked as she wiped the sweat from her brow with the back of her hand.
"Because it was his, Babs," Artemis replied.
It was Day 214. Barbara had been counting. 214 days since the world went to hell. 214 days since they lost contact with every other person in their lives. And while every stranger around the two women chose to loot and pillage in those first few days, Barbara and Artemis started walking. And in walking together, they went from friends and teammates to sisters.
Truthfully, they were proud of how quickly they adapted to a life of survival. After all, they were the two non-powered girls on the Team in their former life, but they were both strong in this new world. Artemis' archery was perfect for hunting wildlife and Barbara was amazing in finding discarded tech and adapting it to their needs. But more than anything, they both terrified by the lack of contact from any of their friends, their family … and others. No news for seven months was disheartening, especially after visiting city after city without any word from the others.
"Barbara, are you sure you're going to be OK?"
Barbara's hiking boots kicked at the discarded city limits sign — "Welcome to Bludhaven." With a tilt of her head at Artemis, Barbara hiked up her knapsack and continued down the road. As they made their way into what was once downtown, Barbara reminded herself that he probably wasn't even in Bludhaven. He had been in Gotham when it all went down anyway and despite scouring the remains of the Batcave, Artemis and Barbara had come up empty. But it hurt to think that their version of goodbye had been shouting at each other. And it hurt to think she never got to tell him how she felt. It was stupid at this point, but what she would have given for just one more chance.
"Help! Someone help us!" screamed a girl's voice a block away. Barbara and Artemis rushed to the area and found the girl and her friend getting roughed up by a street gang.
"Listen, beautiful," the leader sneered, "You're going to do what we say when we say it." But the man cried in pain as one of Artemis' arrows struck his thigh.
"We would have given you a warning," Barbara said, dropping her bag, "But neither of us are in a particularly good mood."
The men charged them, but Artemis and Barbara were trained by the best. The gang members went down one by one with barely a scratch on either woman.
"It's alright," Barbara said to the girls, but both teenagers' eyes widened and they ran. It was only when Barbara turned that she saw the lone standing gangmember pointing his gun at—
"ARTEMIS!" Barbara called, only to see the thug knocked down by a streak of grey and red.
"W-wally?" Artemis asked in a whimper, her voice dry from the dust in the air and the fight. The so-recognizable silhouette turned and despite the new scars on his face and the grey sweatshirt, there was no doubt who their hero was. The dark eyes of Wallace West turned bright as they focused on Artemis' face.
"Babe!" he flashed to her and pulled her in his arms. In the old days (the good old days), Barbara would have given them so much crap for the handsy public display of affection. But it wasn't the good old days. Not anymore.
"Oh babe, I've missed you so—"
"Shut up, Wally," Artemis put her lips back to his, but he pulled away again to look at her.
"I thought you were—" Tears were coming to Wally's eyes.
"Me too. Oh god, I love you so much," Artemis managed before kissing him again.
"Wally, the Skulls are coming back," called a voice around the corner, "We need to get ba—"
Barbara gasped. He had new scars on his face and his sideburns were turning a pre-mature grey for only 19 years old, but it was him. It was him.
"H-hello, Dick," she said plainly.
He stared at her for what seemed like ages before pulling the hood off his zip up hoodie. She wasn't sure what to say, not when the last time they spoke she had called him a fucking asshole. She had spent months wondering whether he'd even want to see her when they found him … if they found him.
"I—" she stammered as the tears rose to the surface, "It's so good to see y—"
But Dick grabbed her hand and pulled her into a tight embrace. She could feel him sobbing into her body.
"I'm so sorry, Babs," he whispered into her neck, "This is all my fault."
"Dick," she could almost have laughed, "I'm just glad you're alive." She closed her eyes tight and sighed hard. "Jesus, I'm glad you're alive."
They pulled away, but only enough to lean against each other's foreheads. For the first time in over half a year, Barbara Gordon felt like a normal human being again. Maybe that's why her lips found their way to his. All she knew was that she was standing in the rubble of Bludhaven in the arms of her not-so-dead best friend, who didn't seem to mind her leap of faith. Dick hummed approval deep in his throat and his hands pressed firm against her back to get her closer as their kiss became ragged and reckless.
"Um, guys?" Dick and Barbara turned to see Wally holding Artemis's waist and tapping his foot faux-impatiently, "I know Dick's been waiting years for this to happen, but I think we need to get back to the rendezvous point before those assholes come back."
As they walked back, Dick filled them in on the damages and the losses (so many losses), but he seemed determined to keep a hold on Barbara's hand. Barbara didn't mind.