First fanfic, or rather, first fanfic that I actually dared to publish. Maybe it's not a good sign for things to come that my first story on this site is about an oc, but I'll do anything to not turn this into a Mary Sue thing. What I can say for now is - my girl will not be breaking any cannon relationships, and probably wouldn't even have a romantic subplot. Lots of mushy gushy friendship, though, you have been warned!
First chapters are rather short and action-less, but things should be picking up around chapters 4-5.
Young justice belongs to dc comics and cartoon network, not to me.
Chapter 1
In this kind of business, planning was everything. Well, it was a rather integral part of any business, really, but when a missed detail meant being sent to jail, you normally tried to take everything into account. That being said, even the best laid out plans could not prepare you for everything. In fact, the more scrutiny you put into the details of your plan, the more likely it was for it to go south in the weirdest way possible.
It was meant to be a simple robbery. The museum was rather small, its security not exactly top of the art. The painting was pricy, but not on the level of a Van Gogh. Just important enough to sell for good cash to the right collector, but not the kind of stuff that gets some masked vigilante on your tail. Nothing grandiose. Get in, bypass the security, grab the loot, get out. The kind of stuff Ghost could do with her eyes closed, one hand tied behind her back. 'The best laid out plans indeed', she thought miserably. 'How the hell did it come to this'?
This… Her hands were shaking. It took nearly all her mental strength to force them to be still. She never really... had to use a gun before. Not like this, not against a real person. Sure, she threatened with it, played with it in front of the others, that sort of thing. But that was all fake, just a show, to let the other lowlifes know – you do NOT mess with the Ghost . Three years officially in the business, and she never had to resort to actually… She swallowed. She didn't want to use it. And the man in the red body suit lying unconscious in front of her, blood flowing from his left leg, was the last person she wanted to use it against.
Shooting the Flash – and hitting! That was pure luck of course, or rather, the purest bad luck imaginable. She couldn't even see where he was. The only thing visible was a red circle, surrounding her and steadily closing in. And she panicked. What a rooky mistake. She panicked and shot three times. Ghost couldn't be sure, but the last one probably didn't matter. She got him on the second try. She could still see the look on his face – pure shock – as he stumbled, still at a dangerous speed, and crashed, head first, into a wall. And now the man was lying there, completely at her mercy. She could kill him. She could unmask him. Both actions would make her an underworld legend. Instead she sniffed and rubbed her nose. Finally putting the gun back in the holster, she quickly reached his side. Security may have been disabled, but there's no way the shots weren't heard. She needed to finish here fast, and scramble. She could see that he was breathing. That's already good. She reached for her small backpack, got a sterile bandage, and quickly applied it to his wound, putting pressure in the right spot, to stop the blood flow. The wound wasn't life threatening. Good.
Ghost got up, put the backpack on her shoulders and was ready to leave, when a thought stopped her. 'He is going to think I'm some kind of monster'. The man who once saved her life is going to remember their second encounter as the time he was shot by some faceless villain in a ridiculous mask. She kneeled back next to him, fully realizing how pointless this is, and removed her grey, featureless mask, revealing her pale face and short brown hair.
"I'm sorry", she whispered, staring at his jaw, the only feature his mask didn't cover. "I didn't… Look, I'm just sorry, ok"?
With those words, the thief known as Ghost got up again and disappeared into the dark.