A/N: Ooh, I got such things planned for this fic!
Heartstrings
Part I
Adrenaline raced through her veins as she watched the arrow arch through the air. One good thing about being a team's designated archer is that you get rather good at calculating the physics behind a shot. Releasing the bowstring a little too early would result in a weak shot; too late, and it's bound to go off the mark. With a sick and heavy feeling pooling in her gut, Artemis realized that this shot was neither. It was on a clear path straight towards its intended target—her.
Her legs froze in place as her mind raced against time, a losing battle, doubtless, but each thought came to its inevitable conclusion. There was no way to dodge this one. Her heart pounded with energy, thrumming a swift beat, calling for her to at least try, to run-run-run! Something anchored her there—didn't she deserve this?—and her limbs became dead weights, cool stone under her all-consuming fear.
Artemis took in one shaky breath—maybe this was how it was meant to be, her taking the hit—and watched the arrow fly towards her, something that only took seconds despite her seemingly eternal struggle to move. She could hear the team screaming around her. They shouldn't worry for her, that lapse in concentration they took to yell their warning would cost them and she wasn't worth it.
But they were too busy fighting their own fights to reach her in time, so their cries became nothing but background music to the almost painful thudding of her heart. Closing her eyes, she waited.
"Artemis!"
There was a flurry of sound—the sudden crash of limbs as they hit the ground, the low thwack of her head hitting the cold floor of the Cave, a groan as her eyes slowly flickered open to see a black cloaked figure before her, and a gasp as Artemis recognized him, despite the arrow sticking out of his chest.
He seemed to shoot her a shaky smile as he fell. That idiot, that total idiot, she wasn't the one who needed to be comforted right now. But that all she could register before he landed hard on the ground.
The world seemed to speed up, color flashing before her eyes as she was forcibly brought back into the situation. With a shuddering breath, she looked over at the body on the ground and said in a voice just above a whisper, "Nightwing?"
There was no answer.
The sounds of the fighting slammed into her head like a sledgehammer of noise and she felt compelled to join in with her own cry, "Nightwing!"
She was by his side in an instant, already blaming herself. If only she'd been faster, if only she'd remembered that the league of injustice wouldn't launch a frontal attack like that without having some sort of backup, some sort of side maneuver, then maybe this didn't need to have happened. Words started to cascade out of her mouth, an uncontrollable river of regret and anger.
"I-I'm sorry, you idiot, stay with me, hang on, I'm so, so sorry, please hang on, YOU IDIOT, please stay with me, just hang on, please—"
Artemis fell to her knees beside him, and her trembling fingers sought out the wound. His armor had protected him from the worst of it, but there was still so much blood.
"C'mon don't leave me, you're not allowed—"
Trying to keep herself from retching at the sight—she'd seen blood before, lots of blood, so why did it seem so different now that it was his?—she balled up her fists and concentrated on removing the arrow.
Out of the periphery of her eyes, Artemis could see the team finishing up their fights. Of course the enemies would retreat now, their work was done, he was hit, he was hit. Their collective gazes went towards her and the figure laying lifeless on the grass.
"I'm so sorry, Dick, it-it's my fault. I'm so sorry."
Artemis pursed her lips, stopping the flow of madness as she tried to keep them from shaking as hard as her fingers. No, not lifeless, never lifeless—just passed out. She took in a shaky breath before grabbing ahold of the arrow, tugging it for a moment to test how deep in it was.
She calmed a little at the realization that it hadn't gotten that close to any vital organs. The team started to overload the mental link in their concern—there was an arrow sticking out of him—and their reactions ranged between fear, anger, worry, and all the above.
'Is he—'
'What happened—'
'We should inform the team—'
'He doesn't look so good…'
Artemis wanted to yell at them to just shut up already, but that would take a few precious seconds she needed to save her best friend. Instead she just closed the link from her end, cutting herself off from all distractions. There was a pressure building behind her eyes—of course he was her best friend, the moron, that grinning moron, she was going to kill him herself for doing this to her. Trying to keep herself from releasing a sob, she simply bit down on her lip, and prepared herself. With a mighty tug, she pulled out the arrow.
There was a sickening rip as the arrow tore through flesh on its way out, one she knew would haunt her dreams for years to come. It's okay, at least that particular nightmare will have plenty of company. Artemis fell back, clutching the wooden stick that had just been inside her teammate. With a shudder, she threw it to the side—wait, the color, gold bands on the fletch, that's not right—and, putting everything else out of her mind, dragged herself back to her friend's side.
Her heart leapt to her throat as she watched him, and Artemis found herself in the same position she had been in all those years ago—a hand on his chest, checking for any signs of life, another hand on his head, smoothing down his tangled mess of hair. He had to be okay, he just had to.
Her mind was quiet, far too quiet for her to calm down and approach the scene objectively. Even with the team's mind link, her and Dick were always more connected than the others—something that had more to do with the fact that he was the only one capable of effectively worming himself through her walls and mental blocks than anything else.
He was the calming presence in the back of her head, reminding her to keep her cool, shooting her witty quips about their enemies, and generally acting as a conscience of sorts, a small mini network of trust inside the larger. To have him so….silent was terrifying.
"C'mon Dick, wake up, just wake up already," Artemis insisted quietly, reverently pushing his dark hair back from his forehead, however matted it was from sweat. "Stop scaring me already, I got it. Just-just wake up so I can yell at you and you can laugh it off and we can forget this already, okay?"
When he didn't answer—part of her almost expected him to leap up and scream surprise Crock!—she let out a shaky breath and repeated, "Wake up. Please."
There was a raspy cough, one that seemed to echo through her mind and cut a path through the increasingly despondent thoughts. Artemis watched, half terrified, half expectant, as his eyes snapped open. Disoriented at first, they flitted around before landing on her and calming. "Artemis."
Grinning, she countered with, "Dick, I'm gonna kill you."
He started to laugh, but it cut off halfway into a groan as he tried to sit up. In a sharp contrast to the last time they'd been in this position—she swore to whatever deities were up there, if he even mentioned the word traught right now, she was going to strangle him, injured or not—rather than falling back in relief, Artemis collapsed inwards, curling herself tighter around the injured hero; a silent promise that she would fend off anyone stupid enough to attack them now.
The attack seemed to be withdrawing, but she didn't want to give them the chance; raising her head, she fixed a dark stare onto the retreating enemies that were coming too near. In her concentration, Artemis almost didn't hear his next word; the soft sigh he expelled when he finally took her in entirely. "Artemis."
Concern overtook the instinct to defend, and she turned her head in confusion. "Dick?"
Her first thought was that he was too close. How had he managed to sit up so fast? And her second was that she certainly didn't recognize that grin; or maybe she did, and that was the problem.
Leaning in closer—how was that even possible, he was like two inches away—he breathed her name like he'd never had the pleasure of saying it before, "Artemis."
An involuntary shiver raced down her spine. No, this was not happening; she was not staring at her best friend's lips. Artemis could barely manage a squeak, "Dick?"
A lazy smile overtook his face, and he placed his hand over hers, which was still resting on his chest. A small part of her mind registered how warm it was, but it was quickly shut down by her growing panic. There seemed to be a weight on her chest, pushing down and making it hard to breath, hard to think. Her limbs locked in place, a disturbing parallel to what had occurred just moments ago, but Dick took advantage of it, tugging her hand—and, what it was connected to, namely her—closer.
Artemis made a shocked noise as she fell forward, onto him. Wow, nice, muscled chest, she did not see this coming. Just as she was about to relay her irritation, she was cut off again by the proximity of—nice lips too, wow, this day was just full of surprises—his face to hers.
Swallowing a gulp of distress, her tongue darted out to wet her now dry lips; something he watched more closely than he was strictly comfortable with.
An alarm starting to ring in the back of her mind as her heart fluttered. Attention, attention, best friend is now revealed to be hotter than she first thought, and it sort of seemed like he was thinking the same about her. But she stayed frozen, too busy calculating the sheer impossibility of this moment to act. His smile seemed to stretch the longer she didn't push him away—okay, she'd seen less predatory grins on Wolf, what was going on here—and he repeated her name again, a throaty purr, "Artemis."
Everything seemed to catch up with her in one second—the way his breath ghosted over her cheek, how her heart was pounding way too much considering the situation, the arm he'd somehow managed to snake around her waist when she wasn't looking, and that he was pulling her closer, that his warm fingers were splayed against the small of her back and he was pulling her closer, and when had she started trembling?—and Artemis did what she always did in times of stress.
Letting out another squeak of surprise—she was not going to live this down, not now, not ever—she slammed her fist into his stomach, taking a small satisfaction in his shocked grunt. Using his lapse in concentration to her advantage, Artemis peeled herself off of him and scrambled away, babbling incoherently, "You—what—this is—I am going to kill you—"
She was saved from doing just that by the sudden arrival of M'gann, who rested a reassuring hand on her shoulder. Artemis nearly jumped at the contact, but before she could knock the Martian's head off, her calm voice thrummed through her skull.
'What happened?'
Not trusting herself to speak again, in her head or otherwise, she just pointed an accusing finger towards Nightwing, who was still groaning at the hit. Kid Flash appeared by his side in an instant to help him up and he was soon on his feet, although still clutching his injured chest.
Artemis felt a pang of regret—she really shouldn't have punched him right after he'd just gotten an arrow removed, by her, no less. The regret quickly faded when he settled himself on his feet and turned his gaze back towards her, making her seize up again.
Artemis half-wished he was just leering, that should deal with—a quick arrow to the skull did wonders for creeps who thought that just because her costume was a little revealing, they had permission to gawk—but his eyes never left her face.
Panic flooded through her limbs, and she was quick to attribute its presence to the way her heart suddenly sped up. She tried to rationalize her shock away—okay, just because she'd never seem him look at her like that before didn't mean anything—but it still didn't explain exactly why he was staring at her like she was the most amazing person in the world.
"Uh oh."
Superboy approached them slowly, carrying something in his clutched fist. As he got closer, their confusion quickly dissipated with a collective sharp intake of breath as he held it out. M'gann gasped and covered her mouth with her hands in shock, Kaldur groaned as he pinched the bridge of his nose with his webbed fingers, and Kid Flash winced and shot his friend an apologetic look.
As for Artemis, she stilled at the sight at the wooden arrow, noting once again the presence of gold bands on the fletch.
Kaldur quickly took out a communicator and activated it with, "Cave Calling Justice League HOJ. Watchtower B01 Priority Yellow."
Once they signaled back, he continued, "Mission compromised. Cupid's arrow and bow were stolen back from the cave. And—" There was a sigh as he added, "Nightwing was hit."
The sudden burst of chatter from the other end made everyone wince, save Artemis, who still hadn't taken her eyes off of the arrow.
Memories flitted through her head—the empty alley outside the phone booth zeta transporter that her sister had approached her in, the smell of rancid garbage filtering through her mask as they argued, the accomplished look on Cheshire's face as Artemis started to black out from gas, and the twisted self-loathing that filled her gut after she'd realized Jade had used her to sneak into the Cave to steal a certain bow and arrow pair and replace them with fakes.
Artemis' eyes grew wide as they fell from the arrow to Dick, who seemed to be staring at her with the same concentration. She numbly took in Kaldur's repetition of the current events to the shouting Justice League on the communicator.
"Yes, we are certain, absolutely certain. Nightwing has been hit with the arrow, we know this. He is, in fact, currently enamored with our archer, Artemis."
Impossible.
