Author's Note: This was written at my close friend Lexi's suggestion at a sequel/continuation of my story 'Pretty Words of Reassurance.' While it isn't exactly one, it's inspired by the thought, so I owe her for putting the idea in my head. Even though it turned into something completely different, LOL. Her pen name here on is lovehp47, so do check her out. She's got a great Spitfire story in the works, soon to be published on the site, and I know you'll just love her. My other buddy, Spitfire047, has a multi-chaptered story worth mentioning as well!
Anyways, I hope you enjoy and don't forget to leave a review. They make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.
Disclaimer: The only reason I would be on if I owned Young Justice would be to troll the fandom. Sigh.
…
From the day she was born, Artemis had proven to be a difficult patient. Besides the fact that she was born nearly two months earlier than expected, her entrance into the world was marred by a broken collarbone upon her delivery. The stubborn child was able to make labor for her mother even more challenging (and painful) than the process typically was.
Following the birth of her daughter, Jade (a breech baby that resulted in a rather nasty Caesarean section and a scar to remember it by), Paula Crock had assumed that her second pregnancy would go much smoother than her first. But the panic that came along with premature birth, broken baby bones, extensive medical billing, and a distraught husband and toddler had proven her wrong. Making it difficult for the adults in her life to care for her was a trait Artemis would retain through her childhood and adolescence.
Of course, it was hard for the daughter of a ruthless villain to admit weakness. Artemis' father had drilled the mentality of 'no pain, no gain' into her head along with the nursery rhymes Jade used to read to her before bedtime at an extremely early age. Fevers of one-hundred-and-two were combatted with mile-long runs through Gotham Park. The stomach flu was ignored by hours of intensive archery practice (and the occasional vomiting-break), and studying different forms of deadly martial arts with the head-cold from hell?
Well, that built character.
As she got older and her injuries grew more serious with each test, training session, and occasional mission, Artemis was still as stubborn as ever. She had been from the day she left the womb and would be until she eventually perished because the archer was too proud to accept assistance.
She was raised and taught to be able to handle herself. She could sew her own stitches and clean her own wounds. She could dig broken glass out of her skin (even her back; she was very flexible) and set broken bones without someone there to hold her hand. Despite her terrain, she could adjust – whether it was a blazing desert, arctic wasteland, or thick jungle – and survive with only the calls of the animals that inhabited her surroundings (if there were any) and her bow for company. She was not dependent on anyone – an idea that was reinforced following her sister's departure, and her own from her father's shady occupation and the man himself.
Good riddance.
Of course, all things changed over time. Joining a team called for Artemis to watch her teammates' backs, and trust them to look after her own. So many people in her life had come and gone that she had grown wary over growing attached to others on a personal level. But hell, since it appeared that she'd be the first to leave before another member of the 'Junior Justice League' did, she figured she may as well become friends with her comrades.
And to be completely honest, the archer liked having her fellow heroes around. Kaldur was kind and patient, and had offered to help strengthen her swimming skills; something that dear old Dad had basically neglected to do over the duration of her childhood. M'gann was sweet and perky, and though she was the type of girl that Artemis would normally resent for her peppy demeanor and ever-present optimism, couldn't help but like despite their opposite personalities. Conner was pleasant to look at (and only look at) and suffered from a nasty temper similar to her own. The boy had showed understanding during several midnight ranting sessions over any and all things – mostly family issues, though Artemis had never exactly gone into depth while addressing those – on the nights that the two's insomnia plagued them and the archer had decided to spend the night at the cave. Robin was a mystery to her…charismatic and clever, he was certainly a welcome presence in her life…but could she really say she knew him when she didn't even know the color of his eyes? Regardless, she liked the partner of the Dark Knight and couldn't help but admire his experience on the field and in dealing with the nuisance that was Kid Flash.
Wally was a slightly different story from the other members of her team and newfound family. In short; he bothered her. Artemis was the type of person who could easily become annoyed by someone who shuffled their feet too much during English class, let alone an outspoken speedster with an affinity for females, food, and aggravating her. Of course, he was a part of her team. Though the archer was for the most part, a loner and independent, she was also loyal to those she found worthy of obtaining that sentiment. That went for her teammates. Perhaps that was why Spe–Red Arrow's suspicions and the idea of a possible mole inside their own forces had, for better wording, pissed her off so greatly.
Because although she didn't necessarily like Wally, he was a member of her league and she would do anything necessary to protect him. Artemis had his back. Damn, did she have his back.
That was how the girl ended up curled on the couch of Mount Justice's living room following her discharge from the Medical Bay of the base, but still on temporary leave, wrapped in the comfort of a floral-embossed quilt made by her mother.
She had taken a bullet to the arm (nothing too serious in her opinion, but no, that didn't matter) on the team's latest endeavor for the redhead. Something that he responded to, with rather than well-deserved gratitude, absolute rage.
…
"What were you thinking? Don't you realize that I heal faster than you anyways? I could have taken that hit with no problems! None! Zero! Nada! You're going to be out of commission for weeks! Do you hear me? Weeks! All because you had to be the hero and jump in front of a gun! I could have even out-run it! You're so irres–"
"If you don't shut up now, I will have to bleed on you, West. I have a headache from Satan himself and a hole in my arm. I am not in the mood. It was either my arm or your head. I could tell where the bastard was aiming."
…
Absent-mindedly, she flipped through channels on the television, passing trashy music videos, even trashier Reality TV shows, and Conner's favorite static channel, before settling on a rerun of a baking show with M'gann in mind.
During a commercial break, she shuffled into the kitchen for a scalding hot caffeinated drink, only to be surprised by a familiar voice in the midst of pouring herself some coffee into her favorite mug.
"What are you doing?"
Artemis fumbled with the coffee pot and swore as intensely hot brew nearly came in contact with her hand. She placed the pot back in its place and began to awkwardly fix her coffee with the arm that was not currently held in a sling. "Nearly burning myself due to someone's surprising – and unwanted – presence." She shot him a quick glare and then began the tedious task of adding sugar, placing the glass dispenser down, stirring, and repeating the process until she was content with the taste of her beverage.
Wally swore he could feel his emerald green eye twitch as he bounded towards the girl angrily after grabbing her favorite coffee flavoring (hazelnut – he noticed little things like that) from the fridge and slammed it on the counter beside her mug. She merely grunted in thanks.
"No, I mean what are you doing up on your feet?"
Artemis scoffed. "Baywatch, I got shot in the arm – not my leg. I'm fine." Wally finally ripped the sugar dispenser from her grasp and poured the substance into the black liquid, finding it pitiful to watch her attempt to do so with one hand. Her nose wrinkled, but she only added her cream in response, reluctantly accepting his help.
"The only reason you got discharged from the Med Bay so early was because Red Tornado couldn't take you and your…escape attempts anymore. You heard Canary and Bats loud and clear, though. You're still out of commission and on probation, Artemis," he scolded. He was worse than her mother.
While some things had indeed changed, such as Artemis' budding trust and relationships with her friends, others hadn't, and could very well never could. And the fact that she was still an awful patient was as true as night was dark.
The team's den mother and resident android had grown so frustrated over Artemis' stubbornness and insistence that she was fine (she may have also snuck out of her cot a few times to kick a punching bag she imagined Wally's face on a few times, but there was no solid proof to back such claims up), that Black Canary had finally released the girl from the makeshift hospital in an attempt to grant her more freedom and Red Tornado less aggravation. She was still to rest, and was required to spend a certain amount of time at the cave to guarantee that she was not exerting herself in her current condition; something that Artemis could comply with. Mostly.
"I got up for a cup of coffee, Baywatch. Not to run a marathon." She rolled her eyes and leaned against the kitchen island, taking a content sip of her brew before placing it on the counter.
His eyes rolled in response to hers. "You should have just asked me to get it for you. I'm literally only two seconds away."
Had Artemis' mug still been in her hands, she'd have dropped it. He was offering to…help her? Surprise must have dusted her features as Wally suddenly became flustered.
"I mean, you know, since it's the last thing I could do since you took that bullet for me and all, and you set my arm on that mission and I still kind of owe you, and, dear God, Canary would get pissed if you hurt yourself running around so–"
"Don't get your spandex in a bunch, Baywatch," she interrupted, sipping from her coffee as his cheeks reddened. "I get it – you're just looking out for me as a teammate. That's exactly what I did for you on our last mission." She traced a finger over one of the porcelain cherry blossoms that decorated her mug's exterior.
His posture slumped. "Yeah, but you got hurt. I'm just offering to get you a damn cup of coffee." Artemis very nearly dropped her drink on the floor at the remorse in his voice.
"You would have put too much creamer in, anyways," she attempted to joke lightly. He didn't seem even remotely irked by the jab. "Wally…"
"You're right," he agreed, standing straight once more and perking up. "I don't peg you as a cream-and-sugar kind of girl though, to be honest. I always thought you took your coffee black. Kind of like your soul."
"You have to have a soul for it to be black." She used her good arm to punch his shoulder and smiled slightly as he feigned pain at the contact. Artemis shook her head and began towards the exit of the kitchen to her bedroom.
"Where are you going?" He called after her.
"Again with the questions?" She continued on until he appeared in front of her and blocked the archer's path. She groaned exasperatedly. "I'm just going to my room to grab my school stuff. The last mission kind of set me back in makeup work."
Wally set off down the hall and returned with a gust of wind and Artemis' book bag thrown over his shoulder. "I told you. I'll help you."
Artemis crossed her arms (or attempted to) over her chest. "Thanks, but no thanks, pal. I don't doubt your inconceivable amount of nerd knowledge when it comes to chemistry, but I don't think that analyzing the poetry of Robert Frost is up your–"
Before Artemis could finish her refusal, she found herself on the sofa, quilt draped over her shoulders loosely, and steaming mug sitting before her on the coffee table. Wally fell on to the couch beside her, turned the television off with the remote, and threw an arm over the back of the couch behind Artemis, lazily reclining momentarily.
"Alley," she finished lamely.
She flushed when his forearm brushed against her braid lightly as he pulled away and began ransacking her bag for the appropriate textbooks needed.
"Jeez! What are they teaching you at this school? Do you have enough books? No wonder Dick's so…" He trailed off and busied himself with opening one of her folders, averting eye contact with her. Artemis said nothing though curiosity overtook her senses.
She leaned in closer to the boy with a smirk, and allowed her chin to rest on his shoulder. Artemis felt Wally stiffen as they made contact and saw him stare at her from the corner of his eye.
"You pick a few things up, I guess," she commented as her smirk grew larger. He finally looked at her with a confused expression present on his face.
"Right. So, umm, Frost." He looked down at the book in his lap, hoping her eyes would follow his. They didn't. "He was born in 1874. And his dad died when he was really young. Same with his mom…is this even relevant? What do you even need–?"
Wally stopped reading from the 'About the Author' passage on page 478 of her Honors English textbook when he felt the slightest of pressure on his face and the scent of warm hazelnut breathe against his nose. Artemis' eyelashes danced gently against his skin as her lips hovered on his cheek. He gulped and said nothing as the archer remained stationary, and found himself hoping that none of his teammates interrupted the moment. When she pulled away he nearly jumped off of the sofa.
"What was that?"
"I'm absolutely certain that you have asked me enough questions today to play a game of 'Twenty Questions.'"
"Just answer me!"
"You're the one that wanted to play 'Doctor.' I just thought I'd throw in a bonus round," she shrugged casually.
Wally's face nearly matched the color of his hair. "I offered to take care of you! Not role-play, you sick, sick woman."
Artemis grinned. "So that's what you're into, hmm?"
Wally took a seat back on the sofa, frowning and considerably further away from her. "I swear; there is something wrong with you. Did you get hit on the head after getting shot or something?"
Artemis snorted. "Oh, don't act like you didn't like it. The closest you've gotten to a girl like that is training with Robin." He narrowed his eyes at this. "Now get back over here and help me." She mentally scoffed at the realization that she had just admitted she needed assistance. And from Wally nonetheless.
Grumbling, he scooted back to his position next to her and turned his attention back to the book.
"Consider it a bribe," Artemis commanded as she opened her notebook to a clean page and placed it in Wally's lap on top of the textbook.
"For what?" His tone was suspicious, causing Artemis to chuckle.
She raised her arm resting within its sling. "My writing hand is currently out of order. You're going to have to be my Scribe for my essay on 'The Road Not Taken,' Wall-Man."
Wally groaned and accepted the gel pen she offered him.
As Artemis sipped her lukewarm coffee (she'd have to get him to make her a fresh pot after, she decided smugly), she thought that things could change…Her reliance on people, her pride over being cared for, and perhaps, just maybe, her feelings for a certain speedster. She smiled into her mug.
"Wait! I know for a fact that you're ambidextrous! I've seen you with a bow. How the hell did I get roped into doing this?"
"…I have no idea what you're talking about."
…
Author's Note: Aww, isn't that sweet! I hope you enjoyed this story. I had to research child birth for it, and let me tell you; it is not a pretty sight. I don't think I want children. At least not biologically.
Anyways, please review! Nothing beats logging onto my email and seeing those notifications. If you want to read some great Spitfire stuff, I recommend you check out my friends Spitfire047, whose story is great and fun, and lovehp47, who will be posting an awesome multi-chapter fic in the near future.
Thanks for reading!
