Disclaimer- Do not own Young Justice or any of it's characters.
So, lots of werewolf stuff in this chapter. Yay! My biggest regret with this fic is there was NOT as much actual werewolf action as I had originally anticipated. I suppose it all works out, but it's amazing how different this story ended up from my original plannings.
o.o.o.o
Chapter Length: 3,614 words
o.o.o.o
The slums of Gotham were largely silent. Most of the dilapidated buildings were dark, with a few lights dotting the skyline here and there. In the distance, skyscrapers rose as colossal pillars with miniscule fireflies caught within them, some flicking off as denizens in the city proper went to bed or closed up for the night.
Artemis watched them for a while, the pinpricks of light reflecting off her startling silver irises. She sat as still as a statue on one of the buildings closer to the end of the slums, testing the limits of her senses.
She could hear the faintest cars, the barking of a dog, the sound of someone throwing garbage into a can. She could smell the food being prepared for Bibbo's late night crowd, she could smell the disgusting and disorienting odor of car exhaust that dulled her olfactory facilities and forced her to snort out her nose.
Time to retreat back into the slums, where cars so rarely saw use that the air was much more tolerable; nothing destroyed a wolf's nose faster than car pollution.
As the golden furred Artemis moved across buildings toward the center of the territory, her fur bristled in protest of the muggy air that tore it's invisible claws through her. Even this late at night Gotham was unbearably stuffy, but Artemis wasn't going to let herself be deterred from her nightly activities by a little humidity.
Even if it did mess with her fur and, subsequently, her hair.
Everything seemed peaceful, which was a rarity considering where she was. But not even any gunshots or car alarms met her keen ears as she perched like a furry sentinel on the parapet of an apartment building. Her silver eyes scanned over everything, spotting a few other werewolves jumping across roof tops here and there with laughter ringing in her direction.
Juveniles out for fun. Fun that she hoped wouldn't be at the expense of human life.
Artemis bounded to a new perch on a smaller shop building, her claws digging in frantically when one of her legs slid into a gaping hole in the roof's surface. She heard the sound of loose debris fall to the floor below, quickly hauling her leg out with her heart pounding in her chest from the near fall.
"Fenrir…" she muttered, glancing into the chasm. It wouldn't have been the first time she'd ever found herself falling several feet through the roof of a building that had seen better days. Her shoulder stilled throbbed sometimes from a four story fall in her training days.
Composing herself from the scare, Artemis glanced up, feeling her teeth clench when the hospital that served as her dad's headquarters came into view. It practically dominated the scenery of every corner of the slums, a constant reminder to everyone of who was watching. The lights were on in the windows on the bottom floors, keeping up that front of an actual hospital for the few citizens that could afford it.
While at the very top werewolves plotted murder and descent.
She wished she could burn it to the ground.
Suddenly, something faint reached Artemis's ears. She lifted her head up sharply, focusing on the sound.
It was crying. Definitely someone crying, if the sniffles were of any indication. Then, the crying turned into a desperate yell for help. It increased in volume, the sound full of shudders and shakes that vibrated in waves of sound to her ears.
The golden she-wolf immediately jumped into action, moving as quickly as she could across the town. The crying echoed off the side of buildings and through the deepest alleys, making it hard to pinpoint, but eventually she came to the conclusion that it was coming from a side street beside a cheap ass 24 hour diner with the lights still on. It was strangely empty.
Artemis landed on the rooftop, scrambling frantically to it's opposite end to gaze down on the scene before her.
Her blood caught fire in her veins at the sight.
There was a boy cowering beneath the form of a stooped brown furred werewolf. The kid had backed as far as he could into the small wedge created between two buildings, and had tucked his limbs as tightly together as he could. Artemis couldn't make out much about the boy's features, but she could tell by the pitch of his voice that he was very, very young.
And very scared.
The werewolf laughed at him, attempting to reach into the gap with dulled claws.
"What's the matter, kid? You look lost, let me help…" he growled. It was Ojo the blind werewolf, Artemis could tell by the voice. He normally didn't instigate straight forward attacks on humans without other werewolves around, but he was apparently not afraid to go after small helpless children by himself. His nose worked constantly as he spoke more. "Since you're so ungrateful, I'm afraid I can't let you go back home. Who knows who you'll tell about me!"
"I-I-I won't tell a-anyone! Just let me… just let me go!" the youth cried. Ojo lunged at the crack again, causing the little boy to scream violently.
"Pipe down you little brat!" Ojo hissed.
Artemis had seen enough. There was no other choice but for her to directly interfere, an act she knew would get her in a whole heap of trouble. Normally when she helped out the general human populace of the slums she tried to keep herself hidden, to help them as indirectly as possible so that nothing could ever positively be traced back to her.
But Ojo was going after a fucking kid and Artemis wasn't very worried about approaching things from the side at that point.
She jumped down from the roof, letting her shape shift into that of a large quadrupedal wolf that could easily be mistaken for a severely overgrown huskie. She ran at Ojo with fire in her limbs, barking as viciously as she could muster; why scare the kid with the appearance of a second upright walking wolf-man when she could save him as a creature he would be more familiar with.
Ojo rounded to the sound right as Artemis sprang up and bit viciously into his forearm. His blood ran into her mouth and she clamped down harder until he roared out in pain, his claws slamming into her side and knocking her onto the pavement.
"Artemis!" Ojo roared in rage. Shit. Of course he fucking knew who she was anyway; he may be blind but he knew the distinct smells of every single pack member he ever came into contact with. His face contorted as his blood dripped down, peppering the dark sidewalk crimson. "You'll pay for your interference, pup!" he spat, then with powerful limbs he was off, slamming into a couple of garbage cans in his haste to undoubtedly rat her out to her father.
Oh Fenrir, what the hell had she just done. This was by far the biggest mistake she had ever made.
Still, what was done, was done. She needed to take care of the kid before the consequences of her actions came crashing down on her. Artemis forced herself up, only mildly dazed from the toss, and padded over to the wedge in the wall.
The boy was crying hard, tears streaming down his freckle dusted cheeks. His hair was auburn, long enough that it feathered along his forehead while he sobbed. He lifted one arm to wipe the snot from his nose, the sleeves of his shirt tattered and too large for his thin frame. His knees were horribly scabbed, no doubt from scraping them along the concrete as he'd forced himself into the small area. His t-shirt was black with a picture of a green monkey on it, and for some reason it was that of all details that really struck Artemis of his age.
Her heart ached for him. She whimpered softly, wedging her head in as far as it would go to look at him with innocent dog eyes.
The kid responded, lifting his wet eyes up to glance at her. His eyes were green enough to startle Artemis, though not nearly as green as Wallace West's. They were very youthful, very innocent.
"Oh…" the kid murmured, swiping his eyes with the back of a hand. His lower lip trembled and more tears spilled down his cheeks. "Please don't hurt me! Y-you're not a wolf man too are you?"
Damn, what the hell had Ojo done to him?
Artemis barked softly, pulling her head out and wagging her tail. The air of a friendly dispositioned dog wasn't her usual forte, but she knew it would help the kid realize she was not an enemy. She lolled her tongue for good measure, panting and pacing back and forth.
It seemed to work, because the kid cautiously edged himself out of the hole.
"Where'd he go?" he squeaked, peeking his head around the corner. Artemis barked happily, spinning in a circle. The kid stared down the street, then back at her, his eyes widening. "Did you scare the wolf-man, doggy?"
"Rrauf!" Artemis barked. The kid smiled a little, coming out fully onto the street.
"Thanks, I'm Gar," he told her, moving his hand down slowly to pet her. She let him pat her head, then moved forward to invade his personal space. He laughed despite himself as she ran her nose across his shirt, checking for injuries while pulling in his scent. She ran her wet nose across his face just to make him laugh some more, satisfied that at least Ojo had not caused any bodily injury. Only emotional damage had been done tonight.
"I got separated from my mom, doggy," Gar choked out abruptly while Artemis was sniffing at the ground, trying to catch a whiff of the chocolate bar smell that clung to him; it was hard to distinguish anything outside of Ojo's overpowering odor. "I lost her! And then I was trying to g-get home and this w-wolf attacked and I just want to go h-home," he sobbed, trying to get rid of his tears with his curled fists.
It always confounded Artemis, how quickly a child's mood could swing; still, he had just been traumatized. She swung her head up and licked the salt from his cheek, then grabbed his shirt in her teeth and tugged it lightly. She barked, running ahead of him a bit before stopping to wag her tail at him. Her nostrils were wide and full of scents and the path was clear.
"You… want me to follow?" Gar asked curiously, voice thick. Smart kid.
"Rrauf!" Artemis said. The kid got the message and caught up to her. He grabbed her scruff in his hand and she lead him along, her senses on edge. Her eyes darted to the roofs at intervals, expecting to see members of her pack bearing down on her with murder in their eyes, but there was nothing.
Gar's little hand sent tremors into her fur. He was shaking. Artemis was shaking too, but for entirely different reasons. She knew how ruthless her pack could be to humans, but witnessing one tormenting a child was more than she could bring herself to bear. If the pack decided to kill her for treason, then so fucking be it; as long as she could get Gar safe and sound before then, she couldn't care less about her own well being.
"I've never seen a dog like you before," Gar said shakily, petting her scruff. "You remind me of my friend's huskie. You're not like that other weird doggy."
Not quite, she thought sadly, turning onto another street with the kid. He stroked her the whole way, seeking a sense of comfort from her soft fur no doubt. She found she didn't mind at all, and in fact the motion of his hand sliding across her scruff was soothing. Not unlike when she was human, and her mother ran her fingers over her scalp as she fell asleep with her head on her lap some nights.
The scent got stronger in places, fainter in others, but Artemis kept her nose to the ground, weaving in and out between buildings and side streets with the little boy in tow. He sniffled every now and then, tugging at the bottom of his shirt.
He grew scared when Artemis stopped abruptly and swiveled her ears sharply; seconds after she paused they were both scared shitless by the loud sound of metal garbage cans being knocked over somewhere close. In the quiet night it rang out like a gunshot, and the blonde nearly took off as her incident invaded her mind, making her gun wound sting.
But she had Gar with her, and he had hunkered down and started to cry right there in the middle of the street.
"I'm scared, I can't do this doggy, I want mom!" he cried out. Shit, shit, he was going to attract every werewolf in a twenty-yard radius! Artemis nudged him in the side affectionately, but he seemed beyond any sense of reason. Huffing to herself, Artemis scanned the surrounding area for danger, then walked around behind his squat form. She shoved her face in the gap between the boy's legs, causing him to yelp in alarm as she continued forward until he slid onto her back. This was enough to make him clutch her fur, which gave her the perfect excuse to set off at a much faster pace. "Woah!" Gar gasped, then started to laugh as the wind whipped through his hair. "This is fun! Faster doggy!"
Artemis was only too happy to oblige.
She ran for an immeasurable time, and her haunches were quaking with exertion when she finally arrived at a place the scent had been the strongest yet. She padded to a stop, tongue lolling, drops of saliva pattering onto the pavement. Gar slid from her back, gaping up at the buildings that surrounded them.
His eyes lit up.
"I know where we are!" he exclaimed. "My house, it's that way!"
He took off, and Artemis groaned. She was beyond in shape, but thick fur coupled with the weight of a small kid and muggy air? It was enough to make even the strongest feel weak.
She chased after Gar at a distance, but came to a stop when she saw him heading for a house that didn't even look like it belonged in the city. It was one of those strange, country looking houses that somehow occasionally got mixed into the big city setting, wedged snuggly right between two multi-floored towers.
And on that porch sat a woman, with the same auburn hair as her son and a very worried expression on her face as she cradled a phone in her hands.
"Mom, mom!" Gar called. "Mom, I found you!"
The woman looked up; her face brightened and she ran to meet him.
"Garfield! Oh, my baby boy, I'm so sorry, I thought you were—" she broke down, clutching the child to her.
They hugged it out right there on the street in the darkness of the slums, and Artemis, with her heart feeling light and an inward smile, turned and morphed quickly, climbing up the side of a building to disappear from view.
This. This was what it should mean to be a werewolf.
Even if it was probably the last thing she'd ever do.
o.o.o.o
Fire flickered in Lawrence's eyes.
The soot, ash, and smoke swirled into his nostrils as his pack threw more fuel to the flames, cackling like a gang of hyenas. He took satisfaction in the sounds of screaming and fright coming from within the surrounded store as the flames licked higher and higher, eating away the wood plank by plank.
They had brought their fate on themselves, and no fire department would be coming to save them; he'd made very sure of that. Such was the fate of humans that joined gangs and dug too deep into werewolf affairs.
The large blond man stood in the street, his arms crossed as he watched his work. One of the juveniles helping set up a howl in exhilaration, and moments later more voices joined in, heedless of the consequences if too many humans heard. Just this once Lawrence did not set his foot down; after all, juveniles needed to have their fun.
He smirked nastily.
"Alpha," came a breathless voice behind him. Lawrence had heard him before he approached, and didn't turn his attention away.
"What is it, Ojo? Can't you see I'm busy?" he growled, gesturing to the scene. His skin was bathed in flickering orange light; the heat from it coupled with the temperature had set up a thin sheen of sweat. "Whatever you need to say better be worth my time."
"Sir, it is your daughter," Ojo said through gritted teeth. That was enough to catch a little of Lawrence's interest. He turned to face the blind werewolf, who stooped just behind him, the eyes in his head milky and useless. He was breathing heavily, clutching at his forearm with one hand which was dripping crimson.
As usual, his nose was working double time pulling in the "sights" around him, never resting, never stopping lest he be left in the dark. His fur was ragged, a deep shade of brown, and Lawrence wrinkled his nose distastefully at some garbage clinging to his haunches.
He reeked of Gotham alleys and blood.
"I thought I made it clear that I don't give a damn about what she's doing, we have bigger problems," he said firmly, marching over to Ojo and pressing a thick finger hard into his chest. Even though the werewolf towered over him in his beast form, he almost cowered beneath the tone.
"But Lawrence, look at what she did to me!" he insisted, letting go of his wound. Deep, jagged teeth marks revealed themselves for but a moment before fresh blood welled up and swallowed them from view. Ojo hissed, clapping a palm back over it. "That little bitch, she interfered with my business! She helped the human child I was after, came running at me like a wild animal and tried to bite my arm off! Your daughter is directly aiding the humans in our slums!"
A less intelligent man might have doubted the word of a visually handicapped man, but Lawrence Crock was no fool. Despite Ojo's weak and groveling demeanor, Lawrence knew that if the werewolf claimed to have "seen" or even had contact with a specific someone, then he was sure to be 100 percent telling the truth. Hardly anything could escape the nose of a normal wolf, but take that wolf's eyesight away and he was going to see more clearly than ever before.
Lawrence clenched his fists tightly.
He had known for a long time that Artemis might wind up being more of a liability to him than an asset to him. What a waste those years of training had been; at least Jade had the good sense to kill humans when she was done toying with them in whatever ways she so chose to amuse herself.
Artemis, on the other hand… she'd always been too soft. Lawrence had tried to train it out of her, but she had received a far stronger dose of Paula Crock's stubbornness than he had anticipated.
Lawrence should have known better than to select a human mate all those years ago. But Paula's criminal behavior and honed skills had attracted him to her; humans that turned against their own kind through violence were decent enough in his books. So he'd taken careful time in courting her, always with the intent of having children he could mold into what he needed them to be.
And sure, he had loved Paula for a time; how could he not? But then she had gone and gotten herself paralyzed and become weak, and now his affections extended only enough to continue sheltering her and their daughters.
He was beginning to regret that decision.
He was going to have to teach his youngest daughter a lesson before she became a problem. He wasn't going to kill her; no, killing his own flesh and blood would be his last resort. He still knew of ways he could use them to benefit himself in the future. One day they would both see his ways, one way or another.
But for now, a little manipulation would be enough to keep Artemis in line. Lawrence had already tried warning her with his voice of reason back at the hospital, but it seemed his words had gone into one ear and straight out the other.
Stubborn pup, that's what she was.
Well, he'd just see how well the message seeped in a second time.
"Ojo, stay here with these idiots and make sure they don't let the fire spread. Don't need the whole damn town ablaze," he ordered roughly, pushing past the brown wolf as he let the change overcome himself. As with every time it hurt, but all werewolves got used to the pain after so many years of it, dulling it to the point that grit teeth would suffice to stifle the discomfort. His fur was an an odd yellow-gray, much duller than the golden color of his youngest.
"Yes, alpha," Ojo simpered, bowing his head.
Lawrence grunted at him, then with a single leap he was bounding across the rooftops.
Soon he had Artemis's scent and he knew she was heading home, so he altered his course to beat her there.
Time for another father/daughter chat.
o.o.o.o
One thing I worry about is it not being clear enough to my readers about what sets Lawrence off when it comes to human contact.
Interfering with another werewolve's prey, well, that's a huge ass offense in his books. You don't interrupt that kind of business, it'll get you killed real quick.
But there are worse things than even that, one sacred rule that's an even worse offense; death pretty much guaranteed. I shan't say what it is. Can any of you guess?