Well. Chapter 12, here you go :).

Some of this was written over a year ago, some of this was quickly added over the last 24 hours. So it's bit all over the place with a tonne of mistakes, but sometimes you've just gotta update :).

Enjoy!

~Aa.

Motion

Birthday

She holds the small package in her hands in a death grip, the paper buckling slowly as she does so. She and Wally had already presented the youngest teen with their combined gift, but she felt somewhat dissatisfied with it. Maybe it was because Wally's wild imagination made her invest in a less than worthy 16th birthday gift, or that it was so far from personal and sentimental that Artemis felt like some sort of fraud. Or maybe it was because she didn't want to always be associated with Wally. She wasn't quite sure which one it was really was, probably a combination of all three. Regardless of her reasons, she had a second present in her hands, already excited for his reaction.

She sits crossed legged, accompanied by the feast she just purchased at warp speed, rushing to make sure the food was still hot by the time she returned to Mount Justice. She looks at the eclectic feast set out on plates, various food wrappings and in bags in front of her; McDonalds burgers and nuggets, KFC chips and popcorn chicken, along with copious amounts of Ben and Jerry's stored safely away from sight in the freezer. All their favourite comfort foods. She knows she'll regret this, knowing full well her gut would pay for this later. She smiles faintly, knowing that it will be well worth it.

She suddenly looks to the kitchen, realising she forgot the slurpees. She looks to her phone sitting in her lap. He was due to arrive in 23 seconds, if he decided to be on time for a change. She scrambles amongst the take away bags, looking for an empty one. She managers to swipe one, shoving the present into the bag quickly, giving her some insurance just in case he decided to arrive in the next 21 seconds. She's already on her feet, oblivious to her phone landing screen down onto the hard floor. She leaps over the unhealthy feast, and a moment later she's already in the kitchen, pressing her hands on the large island counter. She transfers her body weight to her hands as she effortlessly swings her body over the counter. She lands smoothly on feet, only a step away from the fridge. She swiftly steps forward as her dominant hand wraps around the handle of the fridge. She yanks it open, and it flies to the edge of it's allowance before whipping back and hitting the frantic archer in the side. Unfazed by the door, her eyes quickly spy the bright drinks tucked carefully behind the multiple bottles of tomato sauce on the middle shelf.

"This is cute."

She pauses. She didn't even hear him come in. She turns her head and her body follows, finding the dark haired teen slinging his body over the island counter top she just leaped over. His head is resting in the palm of his left hand. He's grinning toothily, his sunglasses resting on the top of his head, keeping his growing hair from his face, and revealing his blue eyes, bright and playful.

She straightens. "You're early," she states, unimpressed.

He raises both of his eyebrows. "Actually, I'm on time," he counters sassily.

Her lips purse, seeming annoyed. "For the first time ever."

He rolls his eyes as he pulls himself from his lounging state to his full height. "I couldn't wait any longer."

Her eyes turn to slits as he makes his way towards her, detouring around the island. "I thought you were coming from the Cave?" Her eyes follow him suspiciously.

He attempts to spy past her body and into the fridge as he nears her. "I did," he replies nonchalantly, coming to his full height in front her, almost a head taller than her. He reaches easily past her and into the fridge.

She slaps his hand away instantly. He frowns in response but continues to reach past her.

She shoves him a little with her shoulder, hardly making him stumble. "How come I didn't hear you?"

He pulls himself back from the fridge and lets his head roll back a little, looking a little sheepish. "I've been here for a while."

She closes her eyes for moment, clearly peeved. She opens them again before turning back to the fridge. "It was meant to be a surprise, Dick," she sounds muffled as she speaks into the fridge, but the irritation in her voice is crystal clear.

She turns back around, a slurpee in each hand. She still looks irritated but thrusts the cup with the bright red slush towards him. He takes it gratefully with two hands before stepping backwards. "I know," he sighs, sounding slightly disappointed in himself, "you know what I'm like with surprises."

"I prefer it when you pretend," she admits, kicking the fridge door shut behind her.

She heads for the lounge, and he follows directly behind her. "Really?"

She turns back to him abruptly, causing him to almost crash into her. "No," she sighs at his literalism, "but if you could just once, not be a detective," she pauses, letting herself give him a small smile, "that'd be great."

She takes a seat in front of her prepared feast, next to where she dropped her phone, and he takes the one opposite. He looks smug as he takes a swig of his slurpee. "That'll never happen."

She grabs the tossed aside take away bag from before and shoves her hand into it. He looks less than phased as he eyes the box of chicken nuggets. He swipes a few up and shoves them into his mouth as she pulls out her gift. His eyes catch the small parcel wrapped in black and his eyebrows furrow in confusion as his mouth continues to chew.

She smiles, finally catching him off guard. "This is for you."

He grins a little as he swallows his mouthful. "I guessed," he counters with sarcasm, making the blonde reach across the feast and playfully slap him on the side of his arm. He chuckles, but they die out quickly as the archer passes the gift over their meal. His grin fades, and now he just looks genuinely confused. "Why?"

She shrugs, feeling a little vulnerable. She swallows quickly, readying herself to speak before she edits herself. "I just wanted to get you something," she looks away for a moment, "a little more," her eyes come back to him, "personal."

He doesn't speak, but his look says everything. His eyes narrow and he looks older than he ever has before. He looks appreciative, slightly disconcerted and pensive, all at once.

"Happy 16th Dick," she almost whispers.

His eyes drop, and that pensive look is the only expression still edged onto his face. He slides a finger in between the edges of paper where no tape exists. With a single tear the paper unravels from the box. As soon as there's a small hint of the gift she notices a small smile on his lips. He looks up and it only grows bigger. "Artemis," he breathes out in disbelief.

She reciprocates with a matching smile. "New superhero, new sunnies."

His long digits open the box as his opposite hand tilts the box on an angle. The leathery case slides into his right hand. The box is dumped next to him as both his hands go for the clasp holding the case shut. She looks down for a moment before reaching for a KFC chip. She shoves it in her mouth before looking up and cracking a large grin.

He's got the sunglasses on, the classic Rayban wayfarers. "What do you think?" he poses with his lips pursed, clearly satirical.

Artemis can't help but let a small chuckle escape her. She already knew how they were going to look before she even stepped foot into the shop she bought them from. "So good," her honest tone doesn't match her sarcastic choice of her words.

He pulls them off quickly and winks at her, causing her to chuckle once again. She watches as he pulls his old pair from the top of his head, his shaggy dark hair flopping onto his face for a moment. A second later his hair is off his face, the new wayfarers sitting perfectly in place on the top of his head. He shoves the old frames back in the leather case, before sliding them back into the box.

He looks up and gives her a disapproving look for a moment. "Artemis, you shouldn't have," he begins quietly, as he lets the small box gently fall into his lap, "the present you got me with Wally was more than enough."

She's got a few chips in her mouth. "That was Wally's idea," is the slightly muffled response. He's not sure if there's something behind her response. Her face is unreadable, and her tone hasn't differed from usual.

"Still," he insists as his eyes watch her intently, "you shouldn't have." The young teen gives her a small smile. "Thank you," his smile fades, and his expression turns pensive, "for everything."

A silence grows around them. It was getting a little too deep, like it always did for them. He drops his eyeline, avoiding her serious gaze. His mind scrambles to find something to break the moment, but his mind is blank. He impulsively looks back up at her and notices a nostalgic expression engulfing her face. "What?" he quizzes blankly.

There's a small tug at both edges of her lips, almost as if she's about to smile, but she doesn't. "You just suddenly seem so much older."

He rolls his eyes as he swallows, instantly breaking the moment between them. He reaches for something a bit more substantial than chips this time. "You're starting to sound like Dinah."

She breaks from the moment and looks greatly unimpressed by his comment. "Thanks," she mumbles sarcastically.

She reaches for her slurpee beside her. "What did Bats get you?"

He rolls his eyes again as he brings a piece of deep-fried chicken to his lips. "A car."

He takes a bite of his chicken, watching for her expression. She looks almost disgusted while he looks more than amused. "Of course," she sighs, "a BMW?" She brings the straw from her drink to her lips.

He swallows, a smug smile appearing. "Porsche."

She falters, the bright blue liquid from her slurpee accidentally escape from her mouth. "Jesus," she breathes heavily before the back of her hand wipes away the excess blue liquid on her lips.

"I know, right?" He sighs. "Have to keep up the act, remember?"

"Of being a playboy asshole who inherited a fortune with little to no effort?" Her reply is quick and deadpanned.

An amused scoff escapes him. "A little heavy on the harshness there, Artemis."

She laughs. "How many times do I need to tell you, you don't have to go along with it."

"How many times do I need to tell you, I have to," the tone is jokingly sassy, but she knows he's far from joking.

She rolls her eyes this time, but quickly ends the conversation, well-educated in where this kind of talk leads. "I'm going to have to do double gym sessions this week to make up for this."

"Lucky, we've got the cave to ourselves for the afternoon."

She raises an eyebrow.

"Gym sesh?" He wrinkles his eyebrows. "Bit of 1v1?"

She sighs whilst raising an eyebrow. "Oh, you want to lose on your birthday?"

"You forget I'm 16 now."

She laughs again. "I can still kick your ass."

He sends her some smug side eye. "Like the three times I kicked yours last week?"

"Bring it, Nightwing."

888

He can smell that familiar scent of M'gann's favourite cookies and he can hear the loud chattering from gathering crowd. He'd always hated birthday parties, mainly just his own. It was meant to be low key, but somehow half the league had turned up to celebrate.

He flips his sunglasses down over his eyes and runs a hand through his dark locks to lightly tousle them. He pauses their casual work. Artemis shoots him a confused look.

"Thanks for today, Artemis," he says kind of sheepishly, "probably the best day I've had in a long time."

His eyes drop to the carpeted floor, trying to brush off the awkward feeling. Suddenly her whole body is pressed against him, her arms wrapped tightly around his torso. He's taken aback for a second, before his arms instinctively wrap around her frame. She feels so much smaller in his arms now. Instead of being half a head smaller than her, like he always remembered, he was now half a head taller than her. He wondered when everything began to change so quickly.

"Me too," she says quietly, and he suddenly feels so much better. She pulls away from the hug and he lets her go, letting his arms fall to his side. He notices her troubled face and he shifts; prepared for some heavy words to escape her mouth.

"I'm sorry I won't be able to stay long tonight," she begins, turning to continue their trek to main area.

He shrugs casually, covering his relief of what actually came out of mouth. "Superhero duties always come first."

She rolls her eyes as they continue along the hall. "I don't know why on this particular night," she pauses, and their eyes meet - they both know why. "When you're turning 16, and having a party, but whatever," she continues quickly, realising where she was steering the conversation.

He smiles. "I liked our alternative plan better anyway."

Now she's relieved. "I'm glad."

"At least you'll be able to see Wally for a bit."

Her face drops. The conversation just went exactly where she tried to steer it away from.

He sends her a knowing look. "As if I didn't notice."

She doesn't say anything, but her pace quickens. He pushes her further, matching her fast pace. "Did they do this while I was gone?"

She doesn't look up.

He stops. "Artemis."

She looks back at him, her expression slightly annoyed. "I don't really want to talk about this on your birthday, Dick."

He sighs before looking down. "You only turn 16 once, and I'm not wasting a single second of our few hours together on stupid league shit, okay?"

He nods.

888

He watches the two. They're cooped up in the corner, taking whatever time they can. There's a tender hand on his face, slowly stroking his cheek. The red head looks distressed as she plants a kiss on his pouted lips. She pulls away, but his hands stay on her waist. She says something, but the young teen can't quite make it out. She takes a quick glance at the watch on her left wrist. She pulls away fully this time, their hands clasping together for a final second.

The couples view changes to the dark-haired teen and he's been caught out. She gives him a sad smile before giving him a small wave goodbye. She takes a longing glance at Wally before turning and heading for the tubes.

Wally pulls himself from their little corner, striding through the crowded room full of superheros. There was only few missing, most notably Green Arrow, Martian Manhunter, and now Artemis.

"Did GA call her in early?" Dick questions, his eyes not on Wally, but on Flash, whose eyes are on Wally.

"Yep," he replies, unimpressed.

The young flash watches the young teens line of sight. He captures the scene, Flash now talking to Batman. Neither of them can make out what the conversation is about, with their lack of body language and facial expressions, but they can probably guess.

Suddenly, the two leaguers are looking at the two teens.

"Well, that's interesting," Dick declares out loud.

The two teens instinctively look away, having been caught red handed.

"God, I'm really starting to get over this," Wally sighs.

The red head then looks to his best friend and suddenly realises what has come out of his mouth. He physically straightens, swallows and quickly shakes his head. "Anyway," he begins, his voice upbeat, "it's your birthday, we shouldn't be talking about this."

Dick smiles. "Right," he agrees, "cake?"

Wally wriggles his eyebrows. "Do you even need to ask?"

Dick chuckles, turning his attention to the kitchen, M'gann still rushing about to make sure all her food is perfect. "Who got you the sunglasses by the way?"

Dick can feel himself sigh internally. This all feels like Déjà vu to him. "Alfred," he lies convincingly. He can feel the disappointment seeping inside him.

"No way," Wally looks at him disbelievingly.

"I know, right?" Dick keeps up the lie spectacularly, his enthusiasm palpable.

"Mans, got some taste."

888

She stands next to him, and they both look grateful for a moment. Her hand brushes against his and they both share a knowing look, hopeful that tonight just may be the night. This was the first night they had been on the team on the same night in a week.

She can see Batmans eyes glide over her, his look unreadable, mostly due to his mask – but, she didn't need an expression to tell her what he was thinking. Her eyes then catch Nightwing, standing almost opposite her. His eyes are already intensely watching her. His eyes then drop almost instantly, and she suddenly feels her confidence drain away.

"Alright team," Batman begins, his tone monotonous as per usual. "Intel scoped out by the league has discovered ties with the Injustice league on the Canadian border." Batman's eyes stray to Nightwing for a moment. "You'll be taking this from three angles, so therefore, three teams are needed."

"Miss Martian, Zatanna," there's a small pause, "Alpha, you'll be coming from the air."

She sucks in a breath. All she can do is hope that they would finally be put on the same mission.

"Aqualad, Nightwing and Kidflash," she can see Wally's body physically slump slightly as she tries to keep herself together. "You're Beta, ground assault."

Artemis lets her held breath leave her slowly. This feeling of diminished hope was becoming all too familiar to her. She sees Kid Flash bite his lip from the corner of her eye. "Artemis, Superboy and Rocket, Gamma." She watches Wally's eyeline drop to the floor. "You'll be stationed at check point prior to the drop off point."

"There's an important weapon supply there that needs to be crippled-" She can hear Batman's voice still, but she doesn't bother listening to what he has to say. She wonders how much longer she'd have to put up with this. At this point in time, it felt like it might be forever.

She looks back to Batman and their eyes meet. She feels that fire light inside of her all of a sudden. She doesn't want to give him the satisfaction of her growing defeatedness, so she stays stoic, completely unreadable.

She breaks eye contact and she can see Kid Flash already heading for the Bioship. He doesn't even look back to her. Nightwing brushes past her; he looks at her, but his face is also unreadable under the mask. They just have to keep proving themselves. She just had to keep proving herself. They could do this. She could do this.

888

He rips his mask of his face off as he storms down the stairs. His fingers wrap around the fabric tightly as they form a fist. He can see Bruce sitting idling in front of the main screen, his fingers clicking and dragging things across the screen. He's crouched over the screen as Alfred tends to him with a steaming cup of tea.

Alfred is only one to acknowledge Dick, "Master Richard." Bruce flat out ignores him.

Dick doesn't even look to Alfred, but sets his sights on Bruce, bringing himself to stand directly behind his mentor's chair. "This is getting pretty ridiculous, isn't it?" the question is rhetorical, but clearly bait.

"I'm not doing this, Dick," his mentor is straight to the point, his voice stern. He doesn't even bother to turn to face his adopted son.

"Not doing what?" the teens response is lightning quick.

Bruce sighs heavily, spinning on his lavish black chair to face the young teen. He has no choice but to take the bait. He stays seated. "I'm not having this conversation with you."

"That's okay," Dick feigns a joking smile, his tone dripping in sarcasm, "because you've been having this conversation with league, right?" He pauses, "how many times now?"

His mentors infamous icy glare is now present. He doesn't speak for a moment. "How many times do I need to tell you that this doesn't concern you?"

The teen is not even slightly put off by his adoptive fathers' glare. "It might not concern me, but it concerns Artemis and Wally," he pushes back, unafraid.

"Who it concerns is the league, Dick," the response is dark, boarding on the edge. He turns his chair back to the main computer, determined to end the conversation.

The young teen isn't done. Completely ignoring the signals of an intense fight brewing, he continues, "how long is this going to last?"

There's no response from Bruce, just his fingers gliding over the keys. Dick can see Alfred shift uncomfortably in the corner. He takes a quick glance at the elders disapproving look, and it only makes him angrier.

Dick steps forward, his face twisting into a scowl. "Why are you doing this?!"

Bruce slams his hands on the keyboard, spins himself around and gets to his feet. His face is ferocious as he looks down on the young teen, their faces only inches apart. "Will you give it a rest, Dick!" he's shouting now.

Not thrown off by Bruce's sudden anger, the young teens response is quick. "I'm not going to sit down and let you dictate their lives!" the young teen shouts back, his hands curling into fists.

Bruce stops himself, realising how many times he's been in the same situation. The mentor lets a long breath escape him, aware that the young teen isn't willing to back down. He takes a small step back, pushing his chair back in the process as he tries to compose himself. "I'm not dictating their lives, Dick," he attempts to speak calmly.

"Oh yeah right," the dark-haired teen scoffs, followed by a small laugh, "because orchestrating mentor training on different nights, not putting them on missions together, and benching them on different nights isn't dictating their lives."

"I will not let their destructive relationship ruin this team!" Bruce bites back with tremendous speed, as he steps forward in an attempt to assert his dominance.

Dick doesn't move. "Like yours have ruined the league?" Is the soft, yet confident response from the young teen.

"That's enough!" He shouts, louder than Dick has heard in years. The older man's face is back to being inches away from the young teen. His brows are deeply furrowed, and his mouth is twisted, his whole face morphing into a ferocious scowl.

This would be the point where Dick would normally back down, and fall back into line, buts he's too angry. Dick can see Bruce is struggling to keep himself under control. He can see his adoptive father clearly bite his lip. His nostrils are flaring, and his fists stay clenched at his sides.

The young teen pushes again, and everything begins to unravel all too quickly. "They're too afraid to stand up to you!"

"Because they know their place in this team, Dick," Bruce pauses, his voice growling, "maybe you need to be reminded of yours."

"Oh, I'm reminded every single day, Bruce," the young teens tone is ruthless, "I'm just some side-kick to Batman, perfectly moulded to be the next stone-cold Batman, when he finally gives up the mantle."

His mentor looks almost offended for a moment, before tugs of skin round his jaw give away the tension he's holding. "You're benched until further notice," is the extremely restrained reply from his adoptive father.

Dick rolls his eyes dramatically. "Cool," is the unenthusiastic reply from the teen.

"Dick-"

Dick smiles and cuts off the older man quickly. "It's fine," he reassures firmly and loudly, "now I've got time to work on all those assignments for business and law," he begins, his tone scornful, "so I can get into university, right, and work for Wayne enterprises, and be Bruce Wayne two point-"

"Richard!" is final commanding word from Alfred, who looks stern with his arms folded over his chest.

Dick looks to him, finally realising he's said enough. He looks remorseful for a moment but doesn't communicate it. He doesn't bother to look back at Bruce. He turns, realising he needs to leave. He can't stay here another minute. He has too much to say.

He can hear movement behind him as he nears the stairs. He feels ridiculous for wanting Bruce to follow him, but he still feels unsatisfied. He's still so full of anger. He has too much to say, and he wants it all to be heard.

So he pushes again, "I'm staying at Mount Justice tonight," he announces.

"You're not staying at Mount Justice."

Dick pauses mid step and turns to look down on his mentor. Bruce has never stopped him from staying at Mount Justice before, even when they fought in the past. Why was he stopping him now? The young teens eyes narrow. "Fine," he shrugs, "I guess I'll stay at Wally's then, or Artemis', or-"

"Jesus Christ, Dick!"

"Well, I'm not fucking staying here!"

Just as he wanted, Bruce begins a fast-paced walk towards the stairs, but Dick keeps his ground half way up the stairs.

He knew the swearing would irk the older man, but strangely, Bruce doesn't mention it. "Like I told you, you're not going anywhere," Bruce growls in a low tone as he looks directly at Dick, charging towards him with his fists still clenched.

Dick can feel the adrenaline pumping through him, and it feels so good. He wants Bruce to march up the stairs. He wants to Bruce to yell at him – and he wants to shout back. He wants it to spiral out of control. He wants the frustration to pour out of him. He wants to take it all out on his adoptive father. He knows better, he's more than aware, but he just can't help it.

Suddenly Alfred steps in front of Bruce and Dick's eyes widen. Bruce looks surprised, his eyebrows rise. "Alfred," Bruce drawls out his name venomously, a clear warning.

"Let him go," is the simple response from the elder.

"Excuse me?"

"Bruce," the response is calm, "let him go."

Bruce looks up to the young teen, who looks absolutely bewildered on the stairs. Bruce sends him an icy glare before turning away from Dick and Alfred. Dicks anger diminishes for a moment, completely thrown by Alfred's intervention. Alfred was always the voice of reason, but he rarely interrupted.

Dick slowly ascends the rest of the stairs, still in shock, as he eyes his mentor carefully. Bruce gets to his desk and picks up his mug full of tea. Dick looks away as he sees his mentor raise the mug in the air. He sprints up the last few steps and the last thing he hears as he exits the cave is the shattering of porcelain.