Disclaimer: I don't own Young Justice!
Title: Traffic Stops
Summary: It's cheaper than a babysitter and it gets her out of Gotham for a while. It also doubles as a sort of survival mission; a mission she can go on while he's busy on his own mission.
Setting: Pre-canon.
Warnings: Does bad parenting count? Because that's pretty much it; Sportsmaster's A plus fathering skills.
...
He always called it a 'traffic stop.' She isn't sure where the name came from, and she's never thought to ask.
It goes like this; her father will inform her a few hours before they go that she's going. Artemis finds her most comfortable and functional set of clothes and grabs whatever necessities she can fit in her pockets. They'll go for a drive. Sometimes it takes days to get to wherever they're going.
Eventually they reach their destination. Sometimes it's planned; most times it isn't. Sportsmaster will drop her off and leave to go to parts unknown (on a mission? Home?) and leave her to find her way back.
It's cheaper than a babysitter and it gets her out of Gotham for a while. It also doubles as a sort of survival mission; a mission she can go on while he's busy on his own mission.
"Only the real pros can do stuff like traffic stops, baby girl." He assures her. "Anybody can stumble through a heist or kill a person; it takes real guts to survive. You'll thank me for this someday. Trust me."
Artemis never knew what to say to that. It wasn't that her father was a bad person, per say, but sometimes he told what he thought was the truth, only to change his mind later.
He lies, basically. She just doesn't want to admit it. Artemis bites her tongue and nods her head.
This time, he takes her to the base of a mountain. It's at least a week away from Gotham on foot. Whatever mission he's accepted, it's going to be a long one.
It's crowded. One of those 'fun for the whole family' tourist traps. Nobody notices the twelve year old little blonde girl being dropped off alone. Nobody ever does.
Artemis wonders if Sportsmaster's father ever did this to him when he was a kid.
Probably. That's probably where the name came from, too.
Artemis hates it when he drops her off at these kinds of places, mostly because everyone looks so happy. Families are everywhere, all of them laughing and joyful and whole, and it makes her heart clench.
She tries to tell herself that they're not like her, that they've always had everything go right for them. Their mom isn't in jail. Their sibling isn't nowhere to be found. They're all the lucky ones.
Of course, it's never really that simple, is it? Everybody wears a mask. Everybody tells lies. Nobody is ever really that happy and joyful in real life, not really. They were just kidding themselves.
(Artemis wished she could kid herself.)
Eventually she gets tired of wandering around and wishing so she heads in the direction of the exit.
A boy starts following her. Not one of those creepy older boys you see in the movies, but a younger boy with tears in his eyes. Artemis kind of wants to slug him, because you don't cry in public, that's showing weakness, she wasn't allowed to do it so why was he? But she doesn't.
"What do you want?"
The boy pauses, embarrassed at having been caught from a distance, then jogs to catch up with her. "I lost my parents in the crowd."
Okay. And? "So what?"
The little boy huffs and crosses his arms. "So, mom and dad said to find an adult to help me if I ever got lost."
"I'm not an adult." Duh. It's not that hard to tell. She only went up to a grown man's elbow.
"Yeah, I know. But all the other grown-ups look scary. Besides, you're older than me; that practically makes you a grown-up compared to me." He fixed her a pleading look. "We're already going the same way. Please?"
This was stupid. She should just bolt into the crowd and leave the kid to his own devices. Her father would never let her hear the end of it if he found out she was nice to another kid on a 'mission.'
...But her father wasn't here right now, now was he? Artemis could do whatever she wanted. He didn't have to know.
"Ugh, fine. Stick close to me and don't fall behind. Got it?"
The little boy nodded excitedly and cheerfully walked beside her. Artemis kept her gaze towards the gates in the distance.
She really shouldn't be doing this. There were so many things that could go wrong. The guards were probably already looking for the kid. She was seriously lucky there wasn't a P.A. system; if there wasn't a P.A. system.
"I wandered off." He's saying, but Artemis is only half-listening. "So I guess it's my fault."
"I guess so."
He pouted. "You're mean. But you're helping me, so I guess you can't be that mean."
That was a stupid reason with which to form his opinion of her and Artemis considers saying as much, but it wasn't going to do her any good to. "Look. The sooner we get to the gate, the sooner you can find your parents, alright?"
"What about your parents?"
"What about them?" She snapped.
"Did you lose your parents to?"
Artemis doesn't say anything a long moment. Not saying anything would only make her look more suspicious, wouldn't it? She didn't really have a choice but to answer. "My dad ditched me."
"Yeah? I guess everybody makes mistakes."
She can't help herself. "Who said anything about making a mistake?"
The boy opens his mouth to say something- probably to ask questions she can't answer- but Artemis beats him to it. "Now, would you look at that. The main gate; within seeing distance. I guess it's time for us to part ways."
The little boy perked up immediately and points at two uniformed men talking to each other by the front gate. "Look! Guards! We can ask them for help!"
Artemis froze. The boy shouted at them, waving his arms. One of the security guards, noticing him, nudges his coworkers shoulder and gestures towards them. The second guard nods. They both start walking towards them.
Artemis regains movement in her limbs almost immediately and bolts, ducking under their arms.
One of them shouts at her to stop. She ignores it and scrambles expertly over the fence.
She's gone before they even know it.
Whelp. That could've gone better.
Artemis doesn't stick around. She walks as nonchalantly as possible until she's out of range, then breaks out in a run. She continued to run, off and on, through the rest of the day and into the next night.
Checking her pockets, she was mildly surprised to find thirty dollars crammed inside her right pocket. Her father never usually gave her money unless he was going on a mission that was longer than a few days. He had no problem with letting her scavenge and steal.
Alrighty then. She should prepare herself for a long one.
She briefly considers buying something like a chocolate bar, but quickly decides it's in her best interest to get something a bit healthier and more filling, along with a bottle of water.
She can't remember the last time she had junk food for the heck of it. She should do that sometime.
Artemis makes her way to the convenience store checkout counter, avoiding eye-contact with the mom and son duo standing in her way. The son is tugging on the mother's arm, demanding sweets in an incredibly obnoxious way. The mother, busy with a phone call, distractedly waves him away.
If she ever acted like that around her father, she wouldn't eat that night. Or the next night. She might also be forced to carry around a few more bruises than usual as well.
She pays and leaves without a word, twisting the cap off her water bottle and taking a swig on the way out.
Artemis considers walking through the night again, but ultimately decides that she needs her rest and finds an empty bench to sleep on at a bus stop.
She lays flat on her back, glaring at the annoying sound of the overhead light and ignoring the pressure of her hair-tie pressing into the back of her head.
She wondered if that little boy ever found his parents. She wondered if it was for the best if he didn't find them.
She'd be lying if she said she wasn't curious. About the rest of her family. Sportsmaster wasn't exactly the sharing type, and she had no one else she could ask. She could always send her mother a letter, but she's not stupid enough to think that her father wouldn't read what she wrote and intercept the answer. Jade might know, but what did that matter? Nobody knew where Jade went after mom got arrested.
(Well, dad might know, but if he did he wasn't saying anything, which is pretty par for the course.)
She just... wants to understand. Is that too much to ask? She doesn't understand how her father can act the way he does.
Was his father like that? Was he born this way? Raised? Is it genetic?
Is this all she really had to look forward to in her life?
"Hey, kid! You gonna ride or not?"
Artemis jolts awake with a start. The bus driver is staring at her pointedly, doors hanging open.
"Uh, yeah. I guess I am." She searches through her pockets (cheap emergencies-only cellphone, change from the convenience store, an empty wrapper, a copy of the apartment key, and, of course, a sharp knife) just to make sure everything's in order before pulling out her money and stepping inside.
Sometimes her father gives her something illegal to carry with her to make things 'more interesting'. Drugs, an unregistered weapon, things like that. Things she knows how and when to use, if ever. It certainly wouldn't hurt to check; he'd already stashed some money in there, after all.
It's early in the morning, so the only people on the bus are the early shift, convicts, and runaways. Artemis, capable of killing any and all of them with her eyes closed, is unafraid as she takes a seat in the far back, taking up three chairs easily as she sprawls out on her back.
She feels a little guilty, actually. It's against the rules for her to use public transportation, (any transportation other than her own feet, really) mostly because it means she'll get home that much quicker. But so is talking to other people unnecessarily, so it's a little late now. What her father didn't know wouldn't hurt her.
If she rode the whole day, she'd get home a day or so sooner. She liked the sound of that. She closed her eyes and tried to get some sleep.
Over the years she's done traffic stops, she's only used the emergencies-only phone once. It was also the only time she's ever had to use her knife.
There was a mugging attempt and sequential stabbing involved. Artemis watched in horror as the would-be robber- an old homeless man, even- bled to death on the ground in front of her.
She was nine years old then. Her father was less than impressed.
"What's the emergency, baby girl? You had it covered."
The emergency was the sticky red coating her blade and hands. The emergency was that she couldn't find the ability to stand. The emergency was that she was shaking hard and couldn't make it stop.
Artemis bit her lip and didn't say anything. Sportsmaster crossed his arms and grumbled but helped her into the car anyway, most likely because he was already there anyway.
There was never an investigation. She didn't know if that was her father's doing or because no one cared about the man in question.
She tried not to think about it. But that didn't mean she didn't dream about it from time to time.
Artemis has been to juvy before. Twice now, actually. Both times were for small things, only a few months sentence a piece, which, considering some of the things she could've been busted for, was no time at all.
No one ever came to get her. No one ever visited her. It was better that way.
To be honest, she actually preferred the detention center to her own home. Sure, the place sucked and the cooks were being paid far too much just to feed them slop that didn't even taste good, but at least the people she was fighting there were strangers, y'know?
A group of kids climbed onto the bus with a bunch of haphazardly put-together luggage, looking a lot like those runaway kids you see in the movies. Artemis isn't impressed. People like them don't understand just how hard running away from the past really is. She does.
They get off. A few stops later, Artemis gets off. She doesn't look back.
Artemis pulls the spare key out of her pocket and slides it into the lock.
"Dad?" She opens the door, closes it behind her, then locks and bolts it for good measure. "Dad, I'm home! Early, even."
The apartment is empty, save for a hastily scribbled note on the kitchen table.
'Hey, baby girl. It's me. Had another mission crop up. I'll be back in a few days, maybe a week. There's cash hidden where it usually is. Don't skip out on your training.
-Lawrence.'
Of course. A mission. It only made sense that he took a mission when it presented itself. Money is important. She rubbed her tired eyes with a grimy hand.
Artemis felt disappointed, although she couldn't pinpoint why. What else did she expect? A party? Cake and ice cream? A pat on the shoulder and a 'I'm proud of you?'
(Well, maybe the last one...)
Artemis took a shower, changed clothes, and went to bed without even bothering to cover herself with a blanket.
Author's Note: Whelp. I was planning on messing with a couple of my older stories and such, but instead I just spent a few days messing with this.
There was a lot I was trying to convey with this one, actually. I wanted it to still sound a bit childish, in Artemis' perspective, but still pretty grown-up for her age, considering how she was raised. The people (parents and children especially) were a sort of comparison between her and her own messed up home life. I wanted to show that, despite having a fast-growing resentment towards her father, she still kinda wants him to be proud of her, even if she knows, in her head, that it'll never happen. The usual.
Random Fact Of The Day: Artemis was originally going to be climbing a mountain, but it turned into this instead.
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