Author's Note: Next chapter. I'm thinking there will be maybe three or four more chapters. Don't worry… I'll notify you of when that it and hopefully the end should be obvious but…who knows. Also, as soon as I find a suitable title for the sequel it will be posted in one of my author's notes. Lastly, sorry the chapter is so short. I've been busy planning the grand finale of this fic and this chapter didn't really go with the tone of the next few chapters. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Young Justice.


Chapter Twenty Nine: Phone Calls and Paranoia


"No."

That one word grated against Remy's ears. She flinched and readjusted the phone to her ear.

"I'm suspended, I understand that," she told the Dark Knight. "But I honestly need the team's help with something. And to do that I need to tell them everything. And I mean everything."

"The team can never know that you're working as a double agent with the Shadows," Batman told her. "It would—"

"Worked," Remy interjected. "I worked as a double agent for the Shadows. Past tense."

"Logistics," Batman muttered. "Nevertheless I'm denying your request. Now if you'd only tell me what is that you need help with, I could perhaps convince the League to allot some resources to you."

"I'm a part of the Young Justice team," Remy said quietly. "It's taken me a long time to realize that I do, in fact, need their help. I would trust them, and only them, to handle this."

"The information you want to share with them could be dangerous to their safety," Batman growled.

"Oh and I suppose traipsing around the globe performing covert missions for the Justice League is safe," Remy sneered.

Calm, she reminded herself. The only way Batman would believe that she was trustworthy was if she remained calm.

"You're a loose canon Roulette, and until you prove to me that you can be trusted, I'm not allowing this."

"Batman," Remy said, her voice taking on a slightly pleading tone. "This is as close to begging as it will ever get. Can't you just—I don't know—do something? Throw me a bone here!"

"Give me one good reason."

"Because I'm asking for your help," Remy said shortly. "I need to find the people who murdered my mother."

Remy heard Batman's sharp intake of breath. "So this is a personal vendetta then?"

"Yes," Remy sighed, rolling her eyes heavenward. "Whoever killed my mom wanted to get to me. I thought that the team—"

"I'll consider it," Batman cut her off. "Give me a few days to do some research of my own and then I'll get back to you."

"I don't have a choice do I?"

"Don't ask questions you already know the answer to. My tolerance for you is waning thin."

Before Remy could say any more, Batman hung up.


Give Batman a few days, Remy mused to herself later that day. She had basically holed herself up in her bedroom until some sort of a solution presented itself. She'd even gone so far as to move the television on top of her dresser and stock the drawers with various food items before barricading her bedroom door.

Remy was not leaving her room until she was certain something could be done about Cheshire, her precarious position on the team, and her mother's murderers.

Batman had told her to wait and in light of her precarious position on the team, she obliged.

Remy glanced at the clock, noting that it read just half past three. Roy had left this morning around ten—they had stayed up a bit late—and Remy had called Batman immediately afterwards.

It's only been five hours, she thought, irritated.

But what was she to do? Cheshire was no doubt stalking her and so childishly, Remy had locked herself in her room and barricaded the windows and doors. She wasn't in the right frame of mind to confront Cheshire in a fight. No doubt the Asian woman would make short work of her.

But still… five hours in here and nothing to do except watch reruns of Scrubs.

"Screw that," Remy muttered, grabbing for her cell phone. She quickly dialed Dinah's number and listened as the phone rang.

Almost immediately, it went to her voice mail. Remy hang up and dialed information.

"City and state please?"

"Star City, California," Remy answered.

"Looking at results for Star City, how may I help you?"

"I need the phone number for the Star City Register."

"One moment please…connecting you now."

Remy drummed her fingers along her dresser and waited as the Star City Register's receptionist answered the phone.

"Star City Register, this Monica. How may I help you?"

"Hi, uh, Monica," Remy said. "I was sort of hoping to be connected to Dinah Lance."

"Is she expecting your call?" Translation: Do you have any clout whatsoever?

"No," Remy said quickly. "It's just, I tried her cell and it's off and this is kind of an emergency—"

"May I ask who this is?"

"Remy," she answered. After a pause she added, "I'm her sister."

"Well unfortunately I can't connect you because that can't be verified but I'll let her know you called." The woman's voice was sinfully cheerful, even though she was being a complete bitch. "Have a nice day."

"No! Wait just—" Remy let out a growl of frustration that echoed in the silence of her room.

Now what could she do?


Another three hours later, and Remy could hear someone knocking at the front door. They had been pounding on it for the past five minutes and Remy had yet to leave her barricaded bedroom.

No way in hell was she answering the door.

Dinah hadn't called her back and Remy realized, with regret, that she probably didn't want to talk to her. It certainly wasn't Roy, he had told her that he had an econ class that day.

The knocking persisted.

"Remy!" a muffled voice just managed to make its way to Remy's ears. "It's me! Dinah!"

Stubbornly, Remy plopped right back down on the floor. For all she knew, that could be Cheshire out there mimicking Dinah's voice.

"Remy if you don't open this door right now I'm kicking it in!"

Go right ahead, Remy sighed aloud. She was not opening the door.

"I'm kicking the door in!"

"Oh shut up," Remy muttered, getting to her feet. After begin cooped up in her room the whole day, she was going completely stir crazy. Maybe just crazy in general.

There was a bang as Remy heard her front door being kicked in and the clacking of heels followed after.

"Remy? Remy—why is the door barricaded? Oh for the love of—Remy!"

Remy remained silent through "Dinah's" string of expletives.

"I swear to God if you tried to hurt yourself I am not taking you to the hospital!" Dinah was muttering to herself. "This is what I get for—stupid kid—hate my job sometimes."

Okay that's definitely Dinah.

"Dinah?"

"Remy, for God sake's what are you doing?" she growled through the door. "The receptionist at the register said you called but I was in a meeting."

"I've been in here all day," Remy confessed.

"Why?"

"Long story," Remy sighed.

"You're not hurt are you?" Dinah asked.

"No."

"Then open the goddamn door."

"Right, sorry," Remy said, unlocking her bedroom door. Dinah's face greeted her over the pile of chair in between them.

Dinah climbed up the pile of chairs and stepped over into the bedroom, a frustrated look on her face. "What the hell is going on with you? Is this because of your suspension?"

"No!" Remy said quickly. "Well, yes, sort of. That's part of it."

Dinah sighed and took a seat on the bed. "If you're going to ask me to reinstate you on the team, the answer is no. Batman's right, you need to learn respect."

"This isn't about that," Remy shook her head.

"Then stop beating around the bush and tell me," Dinah said.

Remy took a seat next to Dinah. "Cheshire's out to kill me, I've got no team to back me up, my mother's dead and her murderers want me to play some sick little game with them." She paused and turned to look Dinah in the eye.

"I'm way in over my head, Dinah, and I really need your help."