Ages: Cameron is 23, Artemis is 21.
House Guest
Fall, Team Year 6
Glitter was made by the devil Cameron thought, trudging through the steps up to his apartment. Each step brought a new movement of glitter against his skin, more often than not in locations glitter had no business interacting with.
"Don't worry Cam, it'll be a great idea. Lian really wants to do this for your birthday," he said under his breath, mimicking Artemis's words to him earlier. Even in the privacy of his own personal bubble though, he couldn't bring himself to add any venom to the words.
When Artemis had asked him to come help her babysit Lian, something he'd been doing with increasing frequency over the last several weeks, he'd expected to arrive to the usual scene of the bickering Harper couple on their way out, while Artemis and Lian watched amusedly. Instead he'd found a birthday cake, banners, an overly-excited Lian, and a smug Artemis.
I've had worse birthdays he told himself, a small smile tugging on his lips as he unlocked his door and stepped into his apartment. Contrasted against the liveliness of the Harper residence over the last few hours, the quiet dark of his apartment seemed excessively cold.
The door slammed loudly behind him and Cameron winced in sympathy for his neighbors. The Hernandez family lived right across, and Mr. Hernandez was a light sleeper who went to work at 4 a.m, as he had repeatedly reminded Cameron during their first few weeks as neighbors.
It had taken Cameron a bit of time to get the not-so-subtle hint.
In his old Gotham stomping grounds, the idea of asking a neighbor to keep quiet – bar an occasional shout or angry knock against the wall – was absurd. You wouldn't walk up to a neighbor because you didn't know who they were and you didn't want to find out. But being in a semi-decent neighborhood meant you ran the risk of having nice neighbors that were worth trying to keep happy. Nice neighbors like the Hernandez family, who did things like generously offer you some home-cooked leftovers, because "you're far too skinny darling", as Mrs. Hernandez put it.
His stomach rumbled at the memory of the food waiting in his fridge, and Cameron kicked off his shoes as he walked towards the entryway to his kitchen. Birthday cake wasn't enough to sate his hunger, and he'd forcefully resisted Artemis's attempts to go out to eat, knowing she'd publicize his birthday to the staff.
"I wouldn't," she said, feigning innocence.
"No, you'd somehow get the toddler who can barely string a sentence together to do it," he retorted.
His thought bubble was interrupted as someone flipped a switch, and light flooded his periphery from the living room. Cameron swiveled towards the light, fist halfway iced up before he caught sight of the intruder, the hulking frame on his couch immediately familiar.
"What the hell are you doing here?" he asked, words coming out in a low snarl. Sitting on his couch, eating my damn leftovers, was Sportsmaster himself: Lawrence Crock. Even in dad jeans and a hoodie, the danger that his muscular frame screamed was impossible to ignore.
"I figured we were long overdue for a talk," Lawrence answered in between mouthfuls. "I stopped by earlier, but your neighbor was kind enough to let me know that you left quite some time ago, and that you'd probably be back in the evening. I got the feeling she'd call the cops if I stuck around much longer, so I took the liberty of letting myself in after she went to bed."
Right. Nice neighbors Cameron lamented.
Lawrence took another bite of Cameron's food, talking as he chewed. "You can put the ice sticks away kid, I'm not here to fight."
Cameron lowered his fists, but he didn't ice them down down.
"Then why are you here?" he asked, turning on the remaining lights and doing a quick visual scan to make sure no one else was there.
Lawrence ignored his question, instead gesturing to the apartment at large. "Nice place you got. A little swankier than where your old man liked to hang out, but then again, you never liked to get your hands as dirty as your dad."
He patted the couch, feeling up the cushions and sticking his hands underneath too feel the upholstery. "You know this is a nice couch. Good upholstery. You buy this new?"
"Got it from a thrift store," Cameron answered tersely. "Now answer my question."
Lawrence nodded, unperturbed by the younger man's hostility. "You know I appreciate a man who looks for a good bargain instead of just buying the first shiny thing they see. Shows character."
"Please tell me you didn't come all the way here to talk about character."
"No, Cameron," and Cam could've swore that was the first time he heard the older man say his actual name. "I came to talk about what the hell you think you're doing."
Cameron took a few moments to absorb the question, which sounded more like an accusation than anything else. "What I'm doing? You mean walking into my apartment? Watching you eat my dinner?"
"Not what you're literally doing right now you moron," Lawrence snapped, and there's the Crusher I know Cameron thought. "I'm talking about all this," the older man said, waving around the room with both hands, plate teetering dangerously close to spilling all over the couch in one hand. "Getting an apartment. Going to college. No longer taking jobs for your dad."
Oh. Now Cameron was starting to get the purpose of this visit. And he didn't like where he suspected it was going.
"I'm a grown man, I can do whatever I want."
"Now that in and of itself isn't a problem. But when you pop in the news, saving kids and all that, trending as this new hero, see that's a problem."
"Like I said Crusher, I'm a grown man. And I definitely don't have to listen to you."
"Aren't you worried about this will affect your dad? Looottaa rumors floating around," Lawrence said, fluttering his fingers theatrically. "Things like how you and your old man aren't talking. Like your dad's only kid sold out to the heroes. Like how long before he's out as capo, because how can you be a capo when your kid is working with the capes?"
"My dad's got enough friends and enough money to keep himself safe in Belle Revve."
"See, now hear I was thinking that we'd gotten past lying to each other. Cause Cameron boy, it's the rumor I haven't heard that made me want to come pay a visit. It goes a little something like this:" Lawrence locked eyes with Cameron. "Angry son, pissed off at pops, stole all of his money. And now, the kindness of his heart is the only thing stopping his old man from being dropped to the wolves."
Cameron tensed. "I haven't heard that last one."
There was a beat of silence, and then Lawrence chuckled. "Yeah well, neither has anyone else. Besides, there's no evidence that any of that happened. Just the wild thoughts of an old man like me."
"Is that why you're here? To threaten me?"
"Hah. For what? For Joar? Same bastard that laughed to my face when he found out Jade ran away? Hell no. To tell you the truth kiddo, I'm almost proud of you. You were never really cut out for this life. I mean sure, you did what you had to do in order to save, and that's more than I can say about any of those damn capes. But you were never cut out for it. You were always too damn weak. Like my own kids."
"You know, you and my dad both confuse weakness for having morals. It seems to be a real problem," Cameron fired back.
"Hah, maybe," Lawrence answered. "After all, Artemis killed a man before she graduated high school, and I'd bet my left arm any damn Robin would take a bullet before doing that."
"She shouldn't have even been in that situation," Cameron answered angrily. "We were kids. We didn't need to-"
"I never thanked you for looking out for Artemis that night."
Cameron stopped talking, mouth agape midsentence at the sudden change in direction.
"I mean, if your shit for brains had better reflexes, she wouldn't have been in that situation, but still, she would've been a lot more messed up without you. Maybe too messed up to have gone and joined them capes, but who knows."
Cameron's shocked look started to turn into one of anger, but Lawrence simply sighed, wiping his mouth on his sleeve and tossing the now empty plate aside on the couch with a clang. "Save your disappointment for someone who cares. I'm not here because I give a single shit about your dad or your relationship with him. He played his cards with his kid, and he lost. Kind of sad, but it happens to the best of us. Hell, I'm 0 for 2 with my kids."
"Then why are you here, making yourself at home on my couch?" Cameron asked through gritted teeth.
"To make sure you don't toss my daughters into the middle of this mess."
Cameron blinked. Once, twice, and then he let out an incredulous "What?"
"I get it. Artemis owes you one. Hell she probably owes you a lot more than one. You coulda sold her out to save your skin in Belle Revve, but you didn't. You could've earned your stripes when those Shadows goons caught her, but you let her escape. And took a knife to the ribs"
"How did you-"
"She asked me keep an eye out for you after that little mess. It was the first time in two years she asked me to do anything for her, so it sticks out in my memory. And you had her back on Manta's sub, because there's no way you can make me believe you weren't caught up in this mess. But," he started. "You don't get to toss her in the middle of this. Or Jade."
"In the middle of what? There's nothing happening!"
"Nothing happening yet. Don't you understand what you've done?"
"I understand exactly what I've done. I walked away. I left," Cameron spat. "I left switching between dingy safehouse and running from cops and heroes. When I go out, if I go out, I can choose to actually help people now."
"Oh my God, you've started drinking from the hero-kool aid. You sound like Artemis when she was 15."
"I don't think you know what Artemis was like after 15. You haven't exactly been around."
"I'm going to ignore that, because even a bastard like me can admit when he deserves a low blow. But don't get it twisted kid, what you're doing is putting a target on your back. Don't think word of your little adventures around Star City with my kid haven't been getting around." Lawrence shook his head. "It's only a matter of time before someone decides it'd be fun to try and make an example out of you."
"If that's what happens, then that's what happens," Cameron said with a shrug. "I've survived worse."
"This ain't the same as daddy dearest beating you until your bones started cracking."
"At least when he did it, he didn't try to cover it up by calling it training," Cameron responded coldly, the underlying accusation clear.
Lawrence chuckled, the sound bitter and hostile "Alright then. That's how it is."
"Yeah, that's how it is," Cameron answered.
Lawrence rose to his feet, giving Cameron a sudden, acute reminder of just how large he was. "For Artemis's sake more than yours, I hope you know what you're doing."
Cameron didn't respond, just watching warily as the man rudely deposited the dirty dishes on the couch with a clang, and made his way to the door.
"You should visit them, you know," Cameron said, right as Lawrence was at the door. "I don't know all the details about your relationship, but you are their dad."
"You handing out parenting advice now?" the older man asked gruffly, back turned to Cameron.
"All I'm saying is, whenever you do come up when I talk with Artemis...she doesn't hate you. She hates Sportsmaster. If you can leave that life behind-"
"Don't start lecturing me on that kumbaya shit kid. I came here to give you a warning and I did. What I do with my kids, is my own damn business."
Yeah. That's the asshole I know Cameron thought.
With that, the greying villain slammed the door shut behind him, and Cameron grimaced again.
Great. No dinner. Dirty dishes to clean. And Mr. Hernandez is going to be grumpy as hell tomorrow.
And then another thought.
Shoud've let Artemis take me out for food.
A/N: And now Cameron has to take a shower on an empty stomach to get rid of all that glitter Lian got all over him.
