Chapter 14
They were talking, but I couldn't hear them.
There was telepathic conversation going on. I was in the room with them, the lounge, but I wasn't a part of it. My previous encounter with Miss Martian had largely immunized me to her mental probes, and as a consequence I didn't link up properly. The more time I spent around the Cave, trying to integrate myself, the more common I realized these conversations were. The group took them for granted. I'd told Megan I couldn't be linked up, if not why, but neither she nor anyone else ever seemed to remember. I'd given up trying to remind them. The concept defied consolidation to them as oil defied mixing with water.
I could tell by the looks and expressions that there was a conversation was going on, but as usual, I was out of the loop and mute. Instead I passed the time trying to guess what it might be about. I noted who was there, and who wasn't. Megan, Karen, Cassie, Robin, Beast Boy, Lagoon Boy. Notably absent was Batgirl, whose birthday was approaching. I inferred that the conversation was planning a surprise party or something in that vein. Everyone knew the Birds of Prey skimmed through footage of the Cave to keep tabs on everything, so surprises were hard to plan. But a telepathic conversation could not be recorded, I reasoned. I hoped I was wrong, as discussing a topic on which I had input around me but without me would be more hurtful than normal. Or maybe no one here thought I had an input. Which is worse? I wondered without malice, To be forgotten, or thought to be opinion-less? They wouldn't have appreciated my suggestions anyways, and who was I to know what Barbra would like after such a short time?
Instead of dwelling on this I tried to study the decorative embellishments around the room, many of which seemed to be remnants of old missions. I say tried because in the silence I found myself unable to focus well because of the constant tocktocktock-ing of a small traditional clock. It ran fast, so each tock was just a hair before I expected it, which could only be described as grating. No one else would care, so I hadn't said anything.
—Tock. Twitch…
—Tock. Twitch…
—Tock. Twitch…
Cassie and Karen were nodding enthusiastically. Lagoon Boy looked dubious, but he always looked a little sour.
—Tock. Twitch.
Why was I even here, listening to the clock from the corner of the room, looking in from the outside? It had been a partly cloudy day at home, homework was done, my room just seemed… empty. So I thought I'd come out to see who was about here, and maybe to do some reading in the Cave's fantastic library. Their fiction section left a little to be desired, but there were volumes on the history of the Justice League, the Team, their members and missions. It was the sort of thing that'd be good to know and that I couldn't get access to otherwise.
The front door at least had recognized me and let me in. I walked through the halls in the direction I sensed held people, which wound me up in the kitchen. At the time it'd just been Karen, Megan, and Beast Boy and the conversation had been aloud. They waved me in and I joined the conversation, but never properly got integrated and was thus jostled out when Cassie, Robin, and Lagoon Boy had arrived. That had been an hour ago… I should have left, I could have done it discretely…but I couldn't manage to get up. I was held in place like a rabbit facing a cobra, equal parts fear and fascination.
—Tock. Twitch.
The door slid open and everyone swiveled to see Nightwing enter.
"You got something for us?" Lagoon Boy asked with enthusiasm.
"Were you guys planning a party for Barbra without me?" He replied.
Karen muttered to herself. "How does he always know?"
"What's the story?" asked Robin without surprise.
Rather than answering, Nightwing did an about face and cocked his head over his shoulder, indicating the group should follow. Everyone trooped out after him in pairs or triplets. I trailed behind.
Not surprisingly he led the group to the room in which I had first trained. Superboy was already there along with Mal, and there were already several files up in the area. I saw pictures of a pale looking woman with red hair dressed in green who looked like she'd just been kicked out of Eden; a desiccated looking man in a black and yellow helmet; a black haired , pointy-eared wall of a man; what looked to be an albino gorilla with misshapen head wearing an ammo vest; and a green haired, white faced clown in a purple suit and tie.
"Anyone know what these guys got in common?" asked Nightwing of the room at large.
"They're all uuuuggg-ly?" cat called Beast Boy. Megan shot him a reproachful glance, causing him to answer more seriously. "They were all part of the Injustice League weren't they?"
"Right," nodded Nightwing.
Megan frowned at the pictures. "Why aren't Wotan and Count Vertigo up there?" The remaining members of the group, I assumed.
"Count Vertigo is still being held for high treason," answered Superboy gruffly.
"And Wotan's absence means that this isn't the Light's business." Mal added. I hadn't gotten to any mission logs about the Injustice League yet, but the Light was a highly intelligent, extremely powerful organization that had temporarily but successfully mind controlled the Justice League about four years ago along with many other plots I had yet to read up on.
"Which fits with what we know about their activities," concluded Nightwing. "These four were recently released from Belle Reve," he indicated the first four pictures, "and someone pulled strings to get Joker out of Arkham. These were picked up five minutes ago by satellite." He made a pulling gesture and three videos popped up. The left had the woman and the desiccated man in front of a large building complex. She was throwing seeds that sprouted as the man hit them with some sort of beam from his head, and already the building was covered and beginning to crumble. All I could see of the writing was -XCor-. The center video showed the pointy eared powerhouse skimming across the ocean at high speeds. The final panel had a hot air balloon with a clown face. "As far as our questioning could find out, only Count Vertigo and Wotan were aware of the Injustice League's role as a diversion for the Light. And this bunch, not exactly known for being other people's lackeys. Looks like they have some payback in mind."
"Good!" said Lagoon Boy, "let em."
"Poison Ivy and Atomic Skull at least, are damagin' a lot mo' than just Luthor's building. Think of all the people in there." Mal shot back stormily.
I had not been completely surprised in my reading to learn that Lex had confirmed association with the Light. He'd have dealings with anything powerful enough to manipulate and achieve his ends and so far he'd kept his hands clean, maintaining his public image. I felt no guilt at helping him specifically; his ends were pure even if his means were not particularly. Machiavelli would be proud. No, he never asked you to hurt anyone. It was you who kil— I cut off the thought. Mal continued, "Black Adam's trajectory lands him in Vlatava, and their royal guard can't take something like him; who knows how many he'll kill before getting Vertigo."
"So we're helping the bad guys," Karen voice was annoyed but resigned.
"We're helping the people whose lives depend on it," answered Nightwing in complete agreement.
"So we take them down, send them back to Belle Reve. No sweat." Cassie punched her cupped hand for emphasis.
Nightwing pitched his voice to cryptic, "Not all of them,"
"What do you mean?" Beast Boy asked confused.
"We only know the whereabouts of the Light members we can't touch. The Joker's probable area of decent doesn't match up with any of them."
"You want to follow them, see if they get us a lead." That was Robin. Nightwing nodded. The Light had been fairly quiescent since their partially foiled assault on the Justice League, but no one doubted that meant they were cooking up something that would be harder to derail.
"Superboy, you, Cassie, and Karen are on Alpha squad. Take Sphere." Another sentient machine these guys had, one who'd apparently bonded with Superboy. "Intercept Black Adam and prevent him from attacking the Vlatavans. If he changes course, follow him, but don't let him engage locals. I'll take Beta with Robin and Beast Boy to track Joker and the Ultra-humanite. Miss Martian you've got gamma. Along with LexCorps' local security you should have no trouble disabling Poison Ivy and Atomic Skull. Mal—"
"—I kno', coordinate your movements from here."
"Neptune's Beard, why am I always on gamma?!" exclaimed La'gaan angrily. More sweetly he added to Miss Martian. "At least I get to work with you, Angel Fish." She gave him a bemused smile.
"Pack up, we leave in 5." Nightwing dismissed. Everyone wandered away with purpose except Nightwing and Mal. Mal was pulling up what seemed like surveillance all around him on far side of the holo-projector, while Nightwing was studying a map on the near side. From the back the map was mirror imaged, but even if I'd been looking at it head on, all the different colored and shaped points meant nothing to me. Maybe if I had more background on past missions I could connect the dots. Nightwing suddenly focused through the hologram and onto me. "Question?"
"Just… why us?"
"Our villains, not the Leagues'; our problem." he answered, interpreting my larger question. I nodded thanks, glad of my new insight into the organization and glad he hadn't seen my apprehension. I turned away to go to the bioship before I could do anything overly stupid.
"Hey," he called out. I turned, and cocked my head at him. "Good luck."
I smiled weakly at him, accepting both his luck and his insight, but already his eyes were focused back on the map, his lips pursed in concentration.
I wasn't worried about working in close proximity to my former benefactor's property. Lex played things close to the vest and would not repay past service and present help saving his branch by outing me to my new cohorts. Every measure I had of the man said he would not waste such an advantage so frivolously.
Besides, I had enough other things to worry about.
First, Lagoon Boy wouldn't stop muttering under his breath. That was until Miss Martian brought up the link and they started talking. Even though I couldn't hear anything, my resonance read it loud and clear. Their relationship didn't hold a candle to Karen and Mal's but it was still awkward as the third wheel no one realized was there. I felt like a peeper. Plus, there were clouds over Metropolis, so I'd have difficulty recharging if need be. And if that weren't enough, the weather was causing turbulence, which made me all the more jittery.
I forgot all my discomfort but the shivers of sun-induced fever as I spotted the jungle strangling the structure. Of the 8 stories I had counted when I saw the scene on video, I could now see only six. The bottom two were completely obscured by woody stalks, twining into the brickwork. I saw a few trapped occupants trying to climb down thrashing vines, their blood running down, feeding the plants. Rapidly growing thorns pierced their palms. Men in security uniforms were having no luck, either in taking down their assailants or in attacking the plants with chainsaws.
Miss Martian set the Bioship down and opened the hatch. The second Lagoon Boy was out of the ship he went into puffer mode and charged at Atomic Skull. Miss Marian flew out as well and headed towards Poison Ivy. I felt a slight mental pressure, and assumed it was instructions I couldn't hear. They seemed to have the bad guys covered… which meant I should help clear the building.
Having given up on the chainsaws, the security had brought out more firepower. And I do mean firepower. Flamethrowers were achieving what simple sharps could not, charring the climbers and halting their battery. This was an idea I could get behind. I focused on their devices and the size of the flame increased. Satisfied with that aid, I ran along the vines, smearing them with the propolis-like substance from my hand, and a ribbon of flame sprang up in my wake.
After an eighth of a mile sprint down the length of the complex, I began to wheeze. The flames I'd left behind sputtered with each of my pants. I cursed my lack of endurance, regretting that the buildings were too big for me to ignite all the invading strands individually. There were still people inside; enough flame to annihilate the plants would roast them alive.
Instead, I surveyed my surroundings to see if there was a way to get the civilians to safety. My attention was drawn to an ornately pained stain-glass wall, which I trotted over to at a more sedate pace despite the urgency riding me like a jockey. The glass prevented the vines from clinging and thus overwhelming this portion of the building, and several employees trapped behind the structure. Each panel was held in place by wooden supports. Though the plants climbed over what portions they could, their density was low enough that I could overcome them.
I flicked all my fingers out sharply, each one releasing a spark onto a column of wood. Flame began to nibble away at the bases. Not good enough. With a snarl I poured more of my borrowed energy into the flames, urging it to race and devour old wood and new alike.
A laser beam passed in front of me, piercing my concentration if not my flesh; the flame's coverage stabilized short of incineration. I looked in the direction the shot had come from, expecting to see the Atomic Skull blasting at me. A second shot flew over my shoulder, and I realized the source was a company guard.
"PUT THAT OUT!" He roared.
"There are people trapped in there! We need to get them out." I shouted back.
"Find another way!"
"Why?"
"Do you know how much that wall is worth? You're goninta shatter it!"
I couldn't believe it. He was worried about the building? "This is the best way to everyone out!"
"I get paid to protect the building, not the people. 're easier to replace than the glass." Outraged boiled up from my core through the solar energy I was holding. My palms steamed as I prepared to blast this insensitive, obstructive waste of life so I could get back to saving people who might deserve it.
Suddenly there was a push at my consciousness. Before I had time to decipher it, a vine two feet in diameter slammed into me. It wrapped around me and bashed me into Lagoon Boy, who was held by his own set of vegetative restraints. My concentration slipped again and the flame I'd intended for the guard shot out of my hands as I braced for another impact. His vine took the brunt of flame, but it would not be long before both plant and person alike went up in smoke.
Panic flooded my senses, but it wasn't mine. It was Miss Martian's. The same as it had been the last time I'd endangered her loved one.
Without a thought I forced out fire from every surface that touched the vine. The plant recoiled and dropped me like a hot potato onto the broken concrete of the plaza. I scrambled up and shot flame at the base of Lagoon Boy's prison, and it likewise dropped its cargo. One hand on his scaly skin was enough to douse the flames that had just reached him. He'd be singed, but not damaged.
"Neptune's Beard! Whose side are you on?" He spat, before a beam from Atomic Skull knocked him away. I don't know…
A triumphant cry drew my attention to Poison Ivy, who reached towards some object cradled by one of her creations. Atomic Skull heard as well and headed her direction, that of the woodlands on the far side of the building complex. In the city we stood a chance, in her turf, none. Neither Lagoon Boy nor Miss Martian were in a position to cut them off.
I sneezed, but gathered myself to try to launch a spark onto the bed of vines that lay between the villains and their exit. With a snap the ember flew and…
BOOM.
The air between us ignited and expanded in rapid combustion. I was enough on the edge of the blast radius to have sufficient time to rein in the flames, keep them from enveloping the other people in the area. But the fire had been connected to me and had drawn out most of my reserves of sunlight. My head began to pound in time with my still ringing ears.
The ride back was quiet. Uncomfortably quiet. Sharply quiet. A silence that could slice even the most stoic of monks.
How could I have been so stupid? I knew about those, knew that any flammable material with high surface area would rapidly combust. I even had known the pollen was there; my body had warned me with a sneeze and I hadn't listened. Even as the hard use of my charge pounded at my temples, I pounded at my psyche. Idiot. Stupid idiot. And I wasn't yet considering almost frying fish boy.
The tension in the ship broke with the snap of a whip.
"You let them escape! You practically HELPED them escape!" Lagoon Boy spun around in his chair, red fly-like eyes staring at me with fury. "What were you thinking?!" I wasn't. "How could even you think a Neptune forsaken EXPLOSION could ever help us?" I didn't mean... I looked away from his accusation. Miss Martian was looking straight ahead, seemingly focused on flying.
"And then there's the fact that you nearly lit me on fire!" He raged. "You damaged your own team mates more than the enemy! If you had listened to M'gann you might have, I don't know, actually done some good!" Something in me protested the unfairness of this, but I said nothing, merely looking down in shame. As the commanding officer, it was Miss Martian's place to reprimand me. But she agreed with Lagoon Boy, and didn't know what more she could add without seeming to defend me. And I didn't deserve defending, especially by her, especially after what I did.
"You're not even going to say anything, are you?" What was there to say? "Typical." He huffed, before lapsing back into rough, edgy, wordlessness.
He was right. He was right. I was a menace. No matter what I was a danger to this Team. How long before I ended up getting another of them killed? My eyes, still downcast, focused on the scrapes on my knees and palms from the fall, which hadn't been from high enough to do serious damage. Of its own accord, my gaze wandered listlessly onto my forearms. They were an angry, shiny red; I'd burned them at some point. Probably when I'd shaken loose of the vine.
It didn't hurt right now. All I felt was the cold of shame as strong as my fever, the throbbing of my skull, and the aching of my spirit.
Back in the hanger of the Cave, I was the first one out, anxious to escape the justified accusations of my traveling companions. I immediately spotted Karen with Mal near a panel of screens. Apparently they had come to check in with us new arrivals, leaving the normal command center for now. Superboy and Wonder Girl were noticeably absent, but Karen seemed in good health and unconcerned. Looking behind her, I saw the missing two figures on video, escorting Black Adam into what appeared to be a prison, possibly Belle Reve again? It didn't seem like Beta Squad had returned yet.
I stepped to the side of the ramp, making way for Miss Martian and Lagoon Boy, to take my rightful place in the back. Both went for the two residents, and I realized another telepathic conversation was going on. I looked at Karen, and Mal, wondering if their looks would be of greeting or shame. Possibly embarrassment for bringing me in in the first place. But neither of them looked my way at all. I waited a beat. Then another.
…
I couldn't stand there, letting the tension build; I fled, silently and discomforted, stopping only briefly to grab some of the bandages that had been laid out. I hung to the walls as I slunk off to the library. In the smallest, most out of the way corner I could find, I began to treat my burns. The propolis I used to start my flames would also act as an anti-inflammatory and antibacterial, if I wrapped it up well. I blinked rhythmically and kept my mind on the methodical wrapping of my wound to prevent my shying emotions from bucking and rearing out of control. In the end I couldn't tie off the bandage, so I let it hang loose as I stared at the ground.
A door opened. I was too numb to tell who it was based on feel. It was probably Karen. Maybe she'd come to comfort me. Maybe she'd help tie off the binding and tell me things weren't as bad as I thought. Or she might tell me they were worse. I couldn't allow myself to worry about which. Stay centered, don't crack. I took a breath. Good. Okay, just talk to her.
"Nova," came the voice ahead of its owner. It was said without reproach, accusation, pity. Or comfort. It was purely professional, focused, intense, remote. But the voice was masculine.
Oh. I didn't want to explain myself, I didn't want to relive this fiasco, that would be sure to set me off. What choice did I have? I didn't answer or look up, merely tucked my damaged arms out of sight and hoped against reason I wouldn't be found.
Nightwing came around the corner and stood next to a shelf. "You need to give your mission report."
I took a quick breath, blinked twice, and looked up with a face of stone. The movement sent shooting pains behind my eyes from my exertions and I froze. Barely moving my lips I uttered, "Miss Marian didn't?"
"She did, as did Lagoon Boy. But the mission log needs reports from everyone. It's standard operating procedure." Seeing I was close to refusal, he pressed on, "Everyone has a different perspective, and we don't know what detail will be important later; it's better to get everything down while it's fresh." Before the memory can be interfered with. Makes sense. I sighed as quietly as I could.
I turned my head gingerly towards his face but focused past it to give my account, which I delivered as tersely as possible to mitigate both the emotional pain of the events and physical pain from talking. "We arrived on scene; Miss Marian engaged Poison Ivy and Lagoon Boy Atomic Skull. The vines had contained up to the second floor of the building complex trapping civilians inside. The guards used flamethrowers to disable the vines. I augmented their power before trying to incinerate as many myself as possible. That proved ineffective. A glass façade with people trapped behind it presented itself. I lit the wooden supports in order to create an exit." I halted, uneager to reveal the next part.
"And…" he prodded, impatient to receive the intel.
I bit the inside of my cheek and continued flatly, without excuse, "A guard's shot almost hit me. I… prepared to defend my position—"
"You were going to attack him?" He asked, with quiet wrath. I blinked and looked further past him. His lowered brows turned the holes in his mask to slits and his mouth was a straight edge.
I nodded without emphasis.
He hissed, "Over a mistake?" I was confused, until I realized he thought the shot had been friendly fire. I didn't clarify, explain about the guy's priorities; there was no acceptable reason for wanting to roast him. "You can't just disobey instructions and then lose your temper." He glowered at me and I mentally shrunk in response; physically I was as immobile as a granite pluton. Of course he was right. Full of bite and cold professionalism he pressed for more, "Finish giving the report; we'll discuss the consequences after."
Woodenly I continued. "A vine hit me and slammed me into restrained Lagoon Boy. The shot I'd prepared hit his vine, setting it on fire. I burned myself free of the vine, freed him, and extinguished the flames that threatened him." He was frowning now. His censure compounded with my own and cracked my fragile detached exterior. To keep my lips from quivering, I pressed them together even though the effort made my head feel as if it were in a vice. I tried to show my acknowledgment and contrition, but that didn't seem to assuage him. I wanted to crawl into a hole, out of the light of day forever, where I could no longer be a screw-up, a liability.
"Why didn't you duck the vine?" He demanded. Confusion at some inconsistency he saw gnawed at his red edges.
"I didn't see it coming." I stammered, perplexed as to why that would be his question.
He stared me down before saying, "Megan gave you warning, and you didn't respond." I didn't respond to that either, just looked away.
He stood silent for a few moments, before the truth crept up on him. "You couldn't hear them." My head shook imperceptibly before I could stop it from its attempt at excuses. "That's why you weren't helping them as directed." He said that more to himself. Oh. So they did want my help. I wasn't supposed to help the people. That's what he'd meant by disobeying. I can't even get that right. Idiot! Despite his conclusion, he was still coolly mad, and how could I blame him when worse was yet to come? "Lagoon Boy's account states you helped Poison Ivy and Atomic Skull escape?" Frustration crawled under and around his words.
Even with two masks between us, I felt his accusing stare pierce into me like a lance, demanding a reaction. Still without looking at him, I answered lifelessly, "Their escape was the result of an explosion from my power."
He took a second to dissect my statement. "Passive voice," he commented, disapproving. Again, I said nothing. Smart guy that he was, he figured out what I wasn't saying. "You didn't mean to set it off?" It was more statement than question. "Will this be a problem? A problem controlling your powers?" The sounds were hard, accusing, and… something … I couldn't quite get it.
"No, no explosions," I said with relief. I didn't want to be relieved, I shouldn't be relieved. It was just that… it was good to see a way I wouldn't hurt them.
"So what happened—?" He demanded sharply at first, then paused.
I evaded, "There was a lot of pollen in the air, from her plants." I still should have known.
"A dust explosion." He caught on quickly. I nodded. "Did you realize the possibility?"
I answered honestly but circuitously, "I sneezed."
"But you didn't realize the implications." He sighed, exasperation at my rookie mistakes overtaking his fury, returning him to a completive, consuming seriousness. His attention focused on the next step, the next piece of the puzzle. "Did you see why they left when they did?"
"The others didn't?" My brows knit with perplexed confusion.
He shook his head, frustrated. "Neither was in a position."
At least in this respect I could be of a little help, "A vine brought something to Poison Ivy, I couldn't tell what. Sorry."
He ignored my apology and spoke to himself again, "And we probably won't find out. Damn."
"We can't ask what was stolen?" I asked, volunteering information for the first time; his distress superseded my self-critical silence.
"Even if they figure out what's missing, LexCorp doesn't have a history of being cooperative," he bristled. Ah, yes, Lex kept his business to himself. "We needed that lead."
"No luck on your end, then." I said to the room at large more than addressing him.
He self-consciously pulled his still-sweat soaked bangs out of his face. Now that I was actually looking at him, I saw the scuffs on his costume and scratches around his temple. They were superficial injuries, but my gut still clenched with concern. "Dead end. The Ultra-Humanite was a decoy; we followed the balloon into an ambush." He didn't elaborate and I didn't press him. "We have no idea where the Joker was in all this."
A reverse Three-card Monte con, Joker not a Queen I sarcastically muttered internally, all melancholy. The prize wasn't even on the table.
He continued. "Clearly, we haven't found your place here yet. That's partially my bad—" I wanted to protest; it wasn't his fault at all! I was the one who let them get away, who almost burned Lagoon Boy, who tried to burn a guard, couldn't link in with Miss Martian, because I… because I'd killed their friend. But he continued before I could attempt an interjection. "— I shouldn't have sent you with Miss Martian with your profile. But the fact that it even crossed your mind to attack a civilian is unacceptable. In the heat of the moment it can be tough to separate friend from foe, but that means you have to be aware of it. Work on discriminating targets in practice from now on. If this continues to be a problem…" he left the thought dangling.
"I understand."
"Good," he said in a far-off tone. Something else held his attention more than my blunders; he must have a million things to mentally juggle; I was sorry for adding to them.
The computer sounded over the intercom, "Recognize: Superboy—B-0-4. Recognize: Wonder Girl—B-2-1." He turned and left me to myself, seemingly forgetting I was there.
My arms had started to sting now, and I brought them out. Yes I'd hid them, yes I'd run. But somehow… I'd expected someone to notice. I'd wanted someone to notice. Someone to care. But they don't. He…
The thought broke me. I felt as if I'd been buried under every book in the library. At least the hurt would hold me, wrap me up and comfort me. I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the bookcase and cried silently to myself. Because myself was the only person to cry to.
Jemma…
Eventually I collected myself enough to slip out. I was in enough of a state that the automatic door didn't recognize me and I had to use the manual control. I'd finally dropped the sunny façade and hopped a train back to school. Though I couldn't sleep, I kept my eyes closed the entire ride back, still unwilling to face the world.
Back in my room, I felt indecisive, insecure. But I shouldn't just sit there… so I picked up my computer and started reading articles for class. I wasn't getting very far. My normally slow reading was practically glacial; my eyes weren't focusing any better than my mind.
The computer started chiming. A window popped up. "Sharpshot — calling." I declined. The text tone on skype pinged.
Sharpshot —: Nova, pick up. I heard things could have gone better. Talk to me.
The incoming call message popped up again. Reluctantly I answered. Artemis' face popped up on the screen.
"No video?" She asked.
"No webcam," I lied. The sun had gone down and I wasn't up to looking like 'Nova' anyways. She sighed.
"First mission's always the hardest." She started.
"Mhhmm."
"You wanna figure out what went wrong?"
I know what went wrong. "They got away." I barely prevented it from being a moan.
"Did you mean for them to?" I didn't answer. "NOVA!" She said exasperated.
"No."
"Well, then you did better than I did on my first mission." She pulled her hair self-consciously away from her face. She seemed to be in an open concept kitchen-dining room-living room; I could see a table to the right and a fridge and counters behind her couch. "I let my first target, Cheshire, get away. I was too insecure about my place on the team."
Wally walked into frame as he opened the door to the fridge. "That's right, I forgot about that. But she was your sister."
Artemis put her fingers to her forehead and rolled her eyes. "Not helping," she tossed over her shoulder. Wally just waved at the camera and walked off with a sandwich. To me she added, "Besides, they didn't know that at the time, and they still let me settle in. Everyone makes mistakes."
"Thanks..." I answered.
"…but you still feel bad about it," she finished for me. I nodded though she couldn't see me. "Anything I can do?"
"Calling helped a lot." I thanked.
"I figured it might. Anything else?"
"Just… talk to me." I pleaded. She looked taken aback at first, but though there was no movement on her face, suddenly I saw understanding. She knew what it was like to be on the outside too.
"About what?" She asked gently.
"Just… simple things."
So she talked to me. About how college was going, about her mom. She and Wally were thinking about getting a dog. Some anecdote about her friends at school. Over time I started to forget the day and lived hers. I asked questions, and laughed with her. She kept me on the line for a solid two hours. At the end she finished with, "I'm always here, if you need me. I won't disappear."
"Like the Cheshire Cat."
"No, not like Jade at all." It was a talk for another time, but there would be other times. And with that in mind, I was able to go to sleep, something I hadn't thought would be possible.