In the spirit of one of my favorite holidays, I present to you my Halloween fic! Optimistically, this'll done before Halloween. Realistically, I'll be done by next next Halloween, because I'm such a slow writer. Snrk! Still, I'm excited about this plotline. It's just, horror. It's is my favorite thing to write.

This is set very closely after the episode Infiltrator, when Artemis was just getting used to her partnership with Green Arrow and she's pretty shaken up by the encounter with Cheshire. Aside from the obvious gorey-ness and nastiness housed in this fic, I'm hoping to explore Artemis' character a little bit more.

summary; With S.T.A.R. Labs in shambles, the new partnership of Green Arrow and Artemis is posted on quiet reconnaissance to monitor the cleanup. But they recieve a tip off from a familiar face of more malevolent forces working in Star City.

warnings; There's some minor spoilers for the less astute among the Young Justice fancrew; this fic is heavily focused on Artemis and her relationship with GA, Roy and Cheshire. There will be gore, violence, swearing, and possible character death.

Young Justice and all its beautiful people belong to DC and CartoonNetwork.

Quarantine

Intimatation (n) - clue, hint

It was awkward.

To say the least.

Green Arrow was a nice guy. She knew that from the moment she met him. And when he offered to pose as her uncle, what she had already known was just reaffirmed. The archer was kind. Compassionate. A little too nice for her tastes, but definitely preferred to the Batman's unyielding glare. So their brief partnership seemed like it was going to start out on the right foot. She was good at archery. He was good at archery. They could talk about trivial things without drowning in tension and worrying about some cryptic meaning or a snide undertone. So, yeah, it appeared, for all intents and purposes like this little sidekick gig wasn't going to be too bad. It beat the crap out of her... previous apprenticeship, that's for sure.

But for all the pros of being Green Arrow's sidekick, he was treating her like- for desperate need of a better term- a rebound. And in some weird, twisted way, Artemis could understand it. Respect it, even. Look at the situation. Mr. Temper Tantrum had been Green Arrow's sidekick- and don't even kid her with that "partner" bullshit- for a lot longer than she had, and then suddenly quits without warning. She didn't know specifics. And she didn't care. If she had cared, she could've asked The Boy Know It All or the Kid Speedy. But she didn't so she wouldn't. All Artemis knew? That Goddamn Speedy had left her with some Sasquatch shoes to fill.

Long story short, Green Arrow might've been a nice guy, but he was awkward as hell, because she wasn't his precious little Speedy. He always tried to open up a conversation with "Uhm..." like he was floundering on what to say, shifting his weight to his opposite foot. Granted, it was only a few weeks into their hastily constructed partnership- they still were getting used to each other- but still, could he be any more awkard? Somehow, despite her resolve to keep her impatience in check, she could feel resentment forming in the pit of her stomach. Artemis could feel herself bristling whenever she heard that annoying "Uhm..."

Like now, for instance.

"Uhm..." the mustached man began, predictably moving foot to foot in his flat-soled boots. Artemis turned her face away from him so she could roll her eyes, an small, indistinct huff escaping her lips. Unaware, the elder archer continued, "Nice night, right?" Discomfort was wrapping its persistent coils around his tone. And the trouble was, Artemis couldn't be sure if GA was uncomfortable because she was the daughter of two villains or because she- again- was standing in the shadow cast by the missing ginger archer. Ugh. Artemis' hand curled into a fist, resting on the raised edge of the rooftop.

"Uh, yeah, sure," she agreed, somewhat tartly, refusing to glance at her "mentor" in favor of viewing the street below. Her sharp eyes scanned the empty street with no real concerns about actually finding trouble. The two archers were across the street, looking down on the rubble and construction crews surrounding the wreckage of S.T.A.R. Labs. Tonight was as uninteresting as it got, just basic reconnaissance. The air was cool, and a light breeze played with her ponytail. On a deeper level, though, Artemis had to admit that something was stirring beneath the facade of peacefulness. The night air, though pleasant against her bare skin seemed... charged. Like it was brimming of unseen energy. Like the calm before the storm.

Though, really, she wasn't looking for excitement or the thrill of the chase. Quite contrary-wise, the blond was more than happy to let the next few weeks pass by without any big crisis going down. Her first night on the The Team had proved way too action-packed for her tastes. Sure she could handle it. But... it got too personal too fast. Why of all people did the mystery assassin have to be her. Almost unconsciously, the blond tugged at the tail end of her hair, twining her fingers absently through it as Green Arrow allowed the rooftop to lapse into silence again.

In her mind's eye, Artemis could see her. Black hair rippling around her face. Cold eyes regarding her with contempt. Lips curving into a hint of a smile. Cheshire. Or, as the young archer now knew, Jade Crock. Her older sister. The one who was so fearless. The one who left her behind.

"You okay, Kiddo?"

Artemis blinked, unknitting her brow from the fierce scowl it had unconsciously formed. Her hand relaxed, lying flat on the parapet. Giving the older archer a fleeting smile, she nodded, rubbing the back of her neck with her free hand, trying to hide the swarm of emotions bubbling in her midsection. "Uh, yup. I'm fine... how're you?"

The eyes behind GA's mask widened in a mix of amusement and bemusement. Artemis flushed, irritated and embarrassed at her lack of lying skills. Note to self? Go take some freakin' acting classes. Because this was like the third time she was struggling with decieving someone. First Kaldur, when she was explaining Cheshire's escape. Then "Red Arrow" when he blatantly told her she wasn't Green Arrow's niece. And now... God, she had better fix this problem soon. The other archer's mustache twitched upward, implying a smile on the mouth beneath it, "Good. Though I could really go for some b-"

Thud.

Simultaneously the two archers swivelled their heads in the direction of the noise. They continued mirroring each other's movement, each taking a step forward, eyes flooding with confusion and horror at the sight.

The sight of Roy.

A tremendeous change had overtaken him since Artemis had last seen him, a few days prior. The redhead had been the picture of arrogant superiority then. The smug bastard had the nerve to catch her outside the Zeta Tubes in Gotham, calling her out on the falsity of her relationship to GA. He's skin had been smooth, his stance confident.

Now, he had stumbled out of the roof entrance, the tip of his boot catching on the top step, sending him crashing onto the cement to land hard on his elbows. He made a grimacing grunt, breathe coming ragged and thick with phlegm. Three times he attempted to drag himself back up to his feet. But each attempt proved feebler than the last. Artemis could only look on, trying to figure out what had happened, her dark eyes flashing back and forth between Roy's trembling form to the look of dawning terror on Green Arrow's face. Despite the direness of the situation, the girl felt a twinge of jealousy thrum in the back of her mind at the Leaguer's reaction. Instead of dwelling on it, her eyes turned back onto Roy, who had given up the prospect of propping himself up and lay sprawled, flat on his stomach, exhausted.

Artemis felt compelled to help him up, even though he was a prick who deserved nothing more than to be left there, on the rooftop until his hangover or high or whatever the hell was wrong with him was over. But at the same time, something held her back. An age-old instinct warned her that something was off. Something was wrong. It wasn't just a hangover. It seemed more sinister than that. The way Roy's skin looked a few shades too pasty. How the added gray pallor made his hair stand out in even starker contrast. How out of place the redheaded archer looked without the company of either his bow or his arrows. So she stayed rooted to the spot, giving Roy a troubled look with wide eyes.

Green Arrow on the other hand, had broken out of his staring stupor and was kneeling beside Roy, rolling the redhead gently onto his side, brows furrowing in concern. "Roy," the blonde man said, placing a gloved hand firmly on his ex-partner's shoulder- a small, affectionate gesture, "What's wro-"

A disgusting, wet, tearing coughing fit erupted from Roy's lip, his spine curling around his middle, one arm hugging his convolting chest. His entire body twisted in agony, away from Green Arrow's touch. The young adult rolled sideways, turning his back toward the other two archers, clearly displeased with the both of them. Why Roy was so pissed and phlegmy was beyond Artemis. She approached slowly, keeping a good buffer of six feet between herself and the male portion of the Arrow Family. (Though, technically, she was not an Arrow. She found the name of "Arrowette" to be repulsive.)

Green Arrow seemed frozen in place, hand still suspended where Red Arrow's shoulder had been seconds earlier. A strained look was plastered on the kind archer's face, mustache decidedly turned down. But then, it passed, smoothing out. "Roy, you need to tell me what happened. I can help," the older man soothed. Artemis could hear the heistation in GA's tone. Probably wary that Red Arrow would balk at the idea of accepting help. The moron.

The bout of wretching eased, and Roy's breathing returned to noisy gulpings. Lifting his head, the former sidekick regarded Green Arrow out of the corner of his eye. Artemis felt like she was intruding, but made no move to give the two privacy.

"It's... not what you can do t-... to help," Roy's voice was feverish. Artemis noticed that the lenses covering the freelancer's eyes were narrower than usual. Not narrowed as in Roy's usual choice of facial expression, but more like... half-lidded. Dull. Tired. "It's what... you can do to survive."

The title of this fic is "Quarantine". I'm guessing you intelligent people can guess what's going to happen.

Reviews are adored, polished, and loved.

Next chapter is hopefully, optimistically going to be up next weekend. Thanks for reading, you gorgeous person.