Bathed in warm colours, the Rhodes Island Canteen felt different from the rest of the landship. The warm lighting, smells of cooking from a hundred different stalls, and raucous chatter of employees and patients, gave the place a warmth that contrasted the cool, clinical hallways leading up to it.
The Team (minus Wally, still unconscious) sat at a table at one corner of the canteen. They were leaned over, and spoke with hushed voices.
"Guys, what do we do now?" M'gann asked, to nobody in particular.
"We do our best to find a way back to our own world." said Aqualad. "After that, we immediately approach the Justice League with Wally's predicament. With a combination of their resources, as well as technological and magical expertise, I am certain that they will find a solution before things get too dire."
"You say that like the people here haven't been trying to find a cure for this… disease." Connor shot back.
"I mean no offense to the healers of this realm. But the Justice League is different." the Atlantean argued, with a tone of absolute conviction.
"Can the folks back home even understand, let alone treat Wally's condition?" asked Artemis.
"... You know what, I agree with Aqualad here. I believe the Justice League could do it. They've done crazier things before." Robin said, rolling up an entire forkful of spaghetti and plopping it in his mouth.
"Yeah, but that's mostly beating up bad guys. Combat stuff." Artemis shot back. "They're not doctors."
"If they can build robots and solve mysteries, I'm sure curing magic rock cancer ain't beyond them." he maintained.
"This is assuming we even can return to Earth." said Conner, putting both hands on the table. "There's no law of the universe stating you'll eventually find a portal home when you find yourself trapped in another world. For all we know, we could be stuck here for good."
"No, we don't think that way." said Robin. "There's a way, there's always a way. We just have to persevere, knock our heads together, and look past the obvious to be able to get back to our own world."
"... This discussion is pointless…" said Connor, crossing his arms. "Wally's still out of it. We can't make a decision that affects the entire team without his okay too."
"He has a point." Artemis said, casually leaning back and tossing crunchy tortillas into her mouth. "Nobody's pushing us to rush this kind of thing through. Why not relax until Wally recovers enough to jabber his nonsense again, and then we can talk about plans."
"... I know you guys usually prefer your plans to be all loosey-goosey, but I've been trained to at least have a concrete objective and a checklist before doing anything. I hate making it all up on the fly."
"Well, we still made it up on the fly a whole lot, bird boy, and we're not dead yet." said Artemis, still focused more on her food than The Team.
"Can you stop calling me a bird? Ugh, why do I even bother… And here I thought Wally not being around would make our discussions more serious…"
"Robin, why don't you just elaborate on your plans while the rest of us listen?" M'gann suggested. "Even if nobody else contributes, we'll all still be on the same page, right?"
And so, the discussion continued for some time after that, with Robin throwing around elaborate schemes and plans for going back "home", but by that point, Artemis and Connor had already tuned out of the discussion entirely.
Because no matter what The Team had decided upon, the two of them already had their mind set.
They weren't going back. No way, no how.
Long nights and little sleep were like cussing and stabbing to Artemis. Unpleasant, but she was used to it.
As for Connor… well, Kryptonian physiology was a hell of a thing.
Artemis stood upright on a chair set up next to Wally's bed, wanting to be there the moment he woke up.
Connor, meanwhile, was slouched over on the seat next to hers. Back problems were not an issue Kryptonians had to deal with, apparently.
"..."
*WHAM!*
Suddenly, the door to the infirmary was kicked in. In stepped a woman wearing the garb of medical staff, but with a scaly tail and sharp teeth that seemed more threatening than reassuring.
"Alright, ya kids!" scolded the scary crocodile woman. "Getting all worried about your buddy's fine and all, but it's my appointed duty to ensure that everyone under Rhodes Island's care keeps in good health. Which means... get the fuck to sleep, kids!"
"Oh yeah? You're gonna make us?" said Connor, now rising to his feet and holding a fist in his palm.
The crocodile woman just smiled. "Trust me kid, you don't want to push it. I'm tougher than I look."
"Yeah, well, just my luck. I am too!"
A few minutes later, Gavial was walking along the empty hall, carrying two troublesome teens under each arm.
"Kid, you have no idea how to fight people of equal strength." she cheerfully said.
Connor was absolutely silent, crossing his arms underneath him and looking away in indignation. Artemis guessed that he was still figuring out how the hell he'd been strong-armed by someone who wasn't even a Kryptonian or had a clue what a Kryptonian was.
She sighed. At least the rest of the hallway was completely empty, it being well after curfew for most.
"Alright, we're at your stop."
Unceremoniously, the crocodile woman dropped the two of them right in front of the rooms that Rhodes Island had allotted them. Not content, the crocodile woman stood there and made absolutely sure that they entered their rooms and stayed there.
Artemis walked across her allotted lodgings, and flopped down on her bed like a minnow.
Meanwhile, Connor sat down at the foot of his bed, arms crossed and silent.
The grey, cracked landscape rolled by her window, unending and unchanging. She'd heard that there were other landscapes out in this world. Forests and meadows. Oceans and tundras. If she survived long enough, she might be able to see them.
But those were distant things, far from where she was now.
The most is that she'll request one of The Team to send her mom a letter, one final message, just to let her know that she hasn't killed herself yet.
And then, that'll be it. That'll be the last time Earth would ever get to hear from her.
That little talk with Aqualad came to be, just after dinner. She hoped he'd forgotten about it in the fuss over Wally.
Predictably, the issue of the day was killing. How he was worried that she was "deteriorating", merely because she had killed more in a few minutes within that building in Chernobog than she ever had during her time in The Team.
"Well tough luck, asshole!" was her response.
Magically incapacitating-but-not-killing 100% of the time was an absurd fantasy that only the godlike powers of the Justice League could ever come close to.
She was sick of everyone trying to cram it down her throat.
Well excuse her if she, a girl with nothing to her name but her archery skills, decided to defend herself and innocent children by shooting arrows through people. Who was he kidding?
Her thoughts turned to her (and her stomach turned at the word) family. To her assassin of a sister and her thug of a father. Who was she kidding, that shacking up with Green Arrow and the Justice League would somehow make them go away?
At this point, the only way to escape them might be to set up shop in a different world entirely.
A fresh start. Yes, that sounded nice to Artemis.
A lot of people would point and tell her that she's being selfish. Yes, she was aware. And she'll embrace it wholeheartedly, because being selfish was who she was. Friends and family were nice. But she was always going to look after number-one: Herself.
Her only hope was that her folks wouldn't somehow manage to pry their way into this world.
It was unlikely, statistically, but then again so were a lot of things in her life.
"..."
Artemis thought about her mom.
Her wheelchair-bound mom, who exuded poise and confidence, even while paralyzed from the waist down.
Leaving her behind would be painful.
But she knew her mom would understand. She would. She was just that kind of a person.
As he sat at the foot of his assigned bed, in his assigned room, Conner decided: He was sick to death of Superman.
The very man he was precision-engineered to replace was everywhere. His logos were on the shirts of his classmates and passers-by. The man's exploits were the subject of cheesy films, TV shows, and ham-handed documentaries. Flip to any news channel, on any hour of the day, and you're bound to hear about his latest heroic exploit sooner or later.
Connor was sick of it all.
The man was a walking, talking exemplar of everything he was designed to be, what he was literally born to do, yet couldn't reach.
Even worse, he seemed to hold nothing but contempt for him. Superman, a man who'd been compared to Gandhi and Mother Theresa, who always had a smile for everyone and saved all without hesitation, always averted his eyes when Connor was in the room. It was as if he was an eyesore. He didn't get why he would show one face to everyone else, but this face only to him!
Just him!
Nobody else!
Why was he the only one getting treated this way!?
Why?
Why?
Why?
He didn't know why, but he hated it. Hated him.
Which was why when he grasped that this was an entirely new world, one that contained no Superman, or any other Kryptonians at all, Connor felt an immense urge to jump for joy.
No more Superman meant no more giant shadow being cast over everything Connor did or was. It meant he could do stuff without being constantly compared to that big blue bastard. It meant he could do hero stuff without worrying about whether the man himself would approve.
It was a selfish kind of joy, the kind that his teammates would likely turn their nose at the moment they found out, but at that point, Connor hardly cared.
Back "home", he was treated as a second-rate Man of Steel. An attempt at replacing him that failed, and now was only assigned cleanup jobs, the little stuff that the great Superman wouldn't dare waste his time on.
He tried his damndest, he tried his best. Hell, he even tried to take in a little formal martial arts training instead of just relying on his brute strength all of the time.
But whenever someone saw him, they only ever saw a discount Superman.
He grit his teeth, and clenched his fists.
He'd decided. Fuck that. Fuck Earth. He can leave the Justice League and the rest of The Team to defend that planet. He doubted it would be that detrimental if Superman 1.5 decided to leave and never return.
Meanwhile, he was in a new world. One filled with all sorts of species, not just plain, petty humans everywhere.
And none of them knew who Superman was. How could they?
It could mean a new start for him. A fresh start.
Connor had never heard of something sweeter in his life.
"..."
Connor thought about M'gann.
Sweet, sweet M'gann. Always there for him, always caring. The one person who was able to see past his purpose as a living weapon.
She was his girlfriend. So far, his first and only girlfriend.
Connor desperately wanted M'gann to choose to join him here, if she could. He knew she wouldn't make that choice, though. Who would want to stay behind in this desolate world, and leave her Uncle and her entire people behind? Connor hoped so, but he didn't expect her to.
He couldn't imagine a universe where she would willingly choose him over remaining with her friends and family, in a world where good prevailed and heroes didn't kill.
… No, he won't force her into making that final decision. He would let her go.
He would stay here, and nobody would miss him.
Connor would give it all up, just so that he could be seen as a nobody again.
They would never tell a breath of this to anyone, of course. Not until they absolutely had to, at the very end. They wouldn't understand. The looks on their faces, they missed the old world so much. And no wonder. They had people who actually knew them back there.
They had lives worth living back there.