A/N: Noticed I'd made an error and not transferred from team year 6 to team year 7 during chapter 60. My apologies, that's been updated now.
Ages: Cameron is 23, Artemis is 21.
Aftershocks
Spring, Team Year 7
You're not supposed to be here.
Those words kept bouncing around Artemis's mind, a rising crescendo of doubt and anxiety growing with every passing moment in the Bioship.
She'd practically screamed at him not to come. Warned him that it was a dangerous mission, most likely an trap. Argued that they'd already planned to call in the League and get it to stick it's neck out this time. Told him that Nightwing was supposed to cash in a favor to make that happen.
You're not supposed to be here.
It wasn't just her: He may have been trying to hide but, but she could Cameron's uncertainty etched into his body: The tension of being the focus point of an argument. The discomfort from tagging along on a hero mission he was obviously reluctant about. The sheer weirdness that everyone felt their first time riding in the Bioship.
You're not supposed to be here.
They echoed in the back of her mind as the bright white of the arctic encompassed everything visible outside of the Bioship. She wrenched her eyes away from the windows, forcing herself to run over the contours of the mission.
Get in, get out.
She blinked and they were onsite, the exit hatch opening up along the floor as the Bioship lowered itself into their landing zone. Dick and Kaldur were quick to jump out, mission focused. Aquaman & Nightwing jumping into the fray.
Artemis paused at the edge, the bitter cold of the arctic greeting her for the first time almost a year and half. She inhaled deeply, the ice cold rushing into her lung, the stinging pain grounding her. There was a mission to be done, and this time they weren't leaving with casualties.
She turned to Cameron.
"We get in, we get out, just like we've done a million times." Just like we've done a million times.
Cameron nodded. It didn't quench the doubts churning in her gut, but for now it would have to be enough.
Artemis jumped.
...
Once they were inside the heated, windowless base, it was easy to forget the vicious cold waiting outside. Just like the base had been easy to navigate through and the holding cells easy to break into. Artemis was almost relieved when they finally ran into an android guard, but that relief was quickly replaced by apprehension at how quickly they were able to take it down.
It was as if someone had laid down the red carpet for them through the entire base.
So when the explosion came, followed by a rush of androids attacking from all angles, it was almost comforting. The trap was sprung, sticky and dangerous and now, now they could get to real work. It was a good plan, but not good enough for a duo as formidable as Nightwing & Tigress. Hell, Robin & Artemis of yesteryear had beaten worse.
Still, the relief was palpable when she finally heard Cameron's wheezing voice over the comms, complaining about getting tossed around. Bruised, but alive.
And then the self-destruct sequence activated.
One second she was booking it through the snow with Nightwing, ignoring every single instinct screaming at her to turn around, and the next she was staring staring at Cameron stumble outside of the base, Kaldur on his back, collapsing into the snow. When the base blew, it threw them to the ground, the blast rocking the area and throwing up a massive hail of falling snow, ice, and concrete.
For a few moments, it was almost beautiful: An amalgamation of debris flying into the air, breaking through the raging snowstorm like a sea parted.
And then everything came crashing down, covering the unlucky heroes in a blinding hail of white.
Artemis coughed viciously, wiping the snow and dust out of her eyes. Disoriented, it took her a few moments to realize that she was hovering over Cameron. She didn't remember making her way through the storm to find him.
Blood her mind registered.
Her gloves were off and her hands were crimson red. The warmth of the blood contrasted oddly with the bitter cold of the wind on her bare skin. The red was smeared onto parts of her uniform, contrasting violently against the white of her arctic camouflage.
There hadn't been blood last time.
Focus. Focus, her mind pleaded, to no avail. No, there hadn't been blood last time. Or a raging snowstorm. Just a chilling silence, and Barry Allen standing before her with a haunted look on his face.
Mission first, the voice screamed, louder this time. She tried focus on Cameron again, this time honing in on his injury. His chest was leaking blood, and there was debris right on top of him.
It looked horrible.
"Artemis. Artemis!" Kaldur yelled, trying to shake her out of her stupor. "You need to move!"
He pulled her up to her feet and physically turned her away from Cameron, pushing her forward to the descending Bioship. She kept moving on instinct, vaguely registering Oracle's voice in her ear. There were sharp warnings of military aircraft incoming and a need to evacuate immediately. Artemis rubbed her fingers together, the familiar stickiness bringing bile to the back of her throat.
Her hands felt sticky. And warm.
Cameron isn't supposed to be that warm.
She blinked and now she was sitting in the Bioship, propped up aimlessly against one of the walls. Her brain couldn't a supply a memory of sitting down, or taking off, or how long they'd been flying. She could feel the Bioship moving at incredible speed, pushing its limits in the way it always did when someone was in danger. She couldn't stop staring at the now-dried blood on her hands.
Nightwing and Kaldur were working on Cameron just a few feet away, their words coming in and out of her stream of hearing.
You're disassociating a sing-song voice rang in her mind, sounding concerningly like Jade.
She could hear Dick barking into his comms. "Nightwing to Watchtower. Prep an emergency medical cot. Have a surgery team on standby."
I should do something. I should be helping, she thought. Compartmentalize. That's basic. You know this.
"Ribcage has been punctured. Bleeding is being stanched. No major artery seems to have been hit," Dick continued.
"We can't be sure that his lungs weren't punctured," Kaldur said tersely.
"Yes we can," Dick countered. "If his lungs had been punctured from that hit, he'd be choking on his blood right now."
Artemis choked down bile.
Get it together. We've seen worse. We've done worse.
She tried to curl her hands into fists and will her sanity back together. Her bloodstained fingers came back into view, shaking violently. She focused on them, willing them to stay still. To prove that she still had some shred of control.
It wasn't working.
"Artemis," Kaldur said, bringing her back to reality. His hands were bloody, and he was leaning against one of the walls of the Bioship, clearly trying to avoid putting weight on one of his legs. "We stopped the bleeding, and he's in the medbay."
She looked around: They were docked on the Watchtower, the exit bay to the Bioship open. Cameron & Dick were gone, but the blood stained bandages on the floor remained as evidence.
"He was stabilizing by the time we got here," Kaldur continued. "The bleeding was under control. It looked worse than it was. He'll be fine."
You don't know that she wanted to scream.
"He'll be fine," Kaldur repeated sternly, rebuking her internal monologue. As if he'd heard her doubt and been personally offended by it. She wanted to repeat it anyway.
Her hands were still shaking.
"I wasn't ready," she whispered instead, as if confessing to a sin. "I wasn't ready to go back."
"I know," Kaldur said softly.
...
Artemis found her voice back on the Watchtower the moment the doctor came out of the operating room, ready to brief them her and Kaldur. The doctor's nametag read Dr. Jernan, someone she wasn't particularly familiar with. Not that she was particularly familiar with any of the Watchtower's medical staff.
"Injury report? Is it critical? How was the surgery?" she asked tersely, not waiting for him to start talking.
"He's got multiple broken ribs, but he was lucky enough to avoid any damage to major organs," Dr. Jernan answered, unfazed by the agressive tone. "He has some bruising in his lungs, but nothing too serious. From what I understand his armor did a lot to minimize the impact."
"Lung bruises sound serious," she replied grimly.
"Those should heal in a week or two, maybe faster depending on his metahuman powers. I don't quite know how they'll play a role yet. These injuries could have been far more serious. If he was hit a few more inches to one side, or at a different angle, or with slightly different force, he could be dealing with a punctured lung or a completely collapsed rib cage."
Artemis paused, letting the severity of that reality sink in for a moment, before continuing. This time she sounded a lot more subdued. "Recovery time?"
"He's medicated and won't be up until the morning at the earliest. He shouldn't do much other than laying in bed for the next week, and he needs to stay away from anything even remotely physically strenuous for the next several weeks. I'm talking a month to two months, minimum. We'll go over specifics with him when he wakes up, but he won't feel great in the morning either."
"His metabolism is different because of his lower body temperature," she countered. "It messes with the dosage-"
"We factored that in," Dr Jernan said, cutting her off. "He isn't my first kyrokinetic, though there is some variation on a case by case basis. The dosage should keep him under for most of the night. When he wakes up he'll feel bad, but the pain won't come in full force until a few hours later. We'll keep him under observation for at significant portion of tomorrow if not longer. He won't be discharged until we're sure he's good to go home. That's all I can say for now."
"Thank you doctor," Kaldur offered.
Dr. Jernan nodded before glancing quickly at Kaldur's leg. "Same goes for you: You need to rest that leg, or you risk seriously aggravating that injury. No fieldwork for at least two weeks."
"Duly noted," came the solemn reply. Seemingly satisfied with that answer, Dr. Jernan gave them both a nod and left the two to themselves.
"Where's Dick?" Artemis asked, once the good doctor was out of sight.
"Working with Oracle to see if they can get into the system."
"And avoiding me," she said.
"No doubt," Kaldur agreed. "Our friend is not the best at confronting conflict. Especially on matters of trust."
"This is what happened last time," she said bitterly. "We kept pushing boundaries. Everyone around us had lines, and we thought we knew better. You, me, Dick. We kept pushing, and we pushed and pushed until we ended up in the Arctic and Wally was dead. Because of a plan we put in motion without consulting anyone"
Kaldur stilled. "We did not kill Wally. And this was not a comparable situation."
"Isn't it? You heard the doctor. We were only a few inches away from another funeral," she contended. "Except this time, no one was saving the world. Just springing traps."
Kaldur quieted for a bit, mulling his response in the careful, nuanced method he was known for. When he spoke, it was low, and quieter thatn usual.
"The first time I had returned to Atlantis after Tula's funeral, I was extremely distraught. Everything around me, around my home, brought not just painful memories, but reminders of her death. I forced myself to go back to...to where it happened. To relive the mission and see where I could have changed things. Wynnde found me hours later. I honestly cannot remember what transpired in that time."
"Kadur, that's horrible," she whispered.
"I should have considered how returning north might have felt for you. Especially to do so under such unique stressors."
"This isn't just about going back to the Arctic," she replied. "It's about trust. I need to know that when I say something, I can trust my teammates not to go behind my back."
"I know. Trust is something we have taken for granted. Perhaps because those around us have been so forgiving of our abuses. While that is a conversation we will have to have, all three of us, it does not change my feelings. I am sorry for failing in that manner."
"You didn't fail at anything."
"I failed to hold my own in combat. Yet again, Cameron proved your trust in him right. Whether or not Oracle is able to salvage what is left of this mission, I once again find my life indebted to his good nature. It is not a debt I take lightly." Kaldur stood up, grimacing slightly at the pain in his leg. "Artemis, I think you should get some rest."
"I'm not leaving until he's awake," she answered.
"Of course not, but you should take a shower and change into some more comfortable clothes. I don't think that Cameron would appreciate waking up seeing you covered in blood."
"Right," Artemis said, looking back at her hands, and the various splotches of blood on her uniform.
"You can go. I will keep watch until your return."
She nodded.
...
Cameron woke up confused, a thoroughly annoying occurrence in his life. He blinked, struggling to get his groggy eyes to bring his room into focus: Sterile white walls, the smell of antiseptic seeping into his noises. The familiar dredge of drugs weighed on him, though he couldn't remember being medicated.
Hospital his mind provided, though he didn't remember going to one.
He looked to his side, and if his mind wasn't operating at a quarter of it's normal capacity, he would have flinched at the site of another person.
Artemis was slumped in the chair nearby in sweats, hair at a Jade-level of disheveled. She looked absolutely exhausted.
He moved again, this time looking down on his body. He was in scrubs – don't remember changing into that – and recognized a few of the other things: An IV drip hooked into his arm. Padding around his ribs.
Whatever I did must've sucked.
As if on cue, the pain started to kick in. He winced, his chest keen to remind him of exactly why he was in said hospital bed. Trying to offset the hurt, he attempted to adjust himself only for his shoulder to scream out in protest at the moment. He swore aloud.
He tried to adjust himself and his shoulder cried out in protest at the movement, causing him to swear aloud. That in turn caused Artemis to stir, waking her up almost immediately. She straightened up when she realized Cameron was awake.
"Tell me I've died and we're in hell," he complained. "You're just part of the punishment, here to agressively shoulder punch me for all of eternity."
"You're in the Watchtower's medbay," she answered dryly, ignoring his jokes.
"So worse than hell," he replied.
"How are you feeling?" she asked, leaning forward to get a closer look at him.
"Pain," was all he responded.
"The doctor said you'd wake up rough, but that it was going to get worse the longer you were up. I'll call them in," she said, reaching over to his stretcher to press a red button. "Do you remember what happened?"
"Some of the details are foggy, but I remember getting my butt kicked by the Terror Twins, and everything going to crap after that. I'm assuming I screwed up, since I'm here."
"You didn't screw up Cam," she said fiercely, angry at his self-depreciation.
"Yeah well, I definitely remember you being pissed at me for tagging along. Now I'm here, so," he said, trailing off as if the answer was obvious.
"I was pissed because I was worried you'd end up exactly where you are, or worse," she answered.
"What exactly happened?" he asked, still a bit confused.
"You played hero, stupid, and I could kill you for it you dumb son of a-"
"Hello!", came a voice far too cheery for the early morning hour. "I'm Dr. Jernan. Mr. Icicle how are you feeling?"
"Like someone is sawing into my chest," he answered.
"Great, that means you don't have any nerve damage. I'm going to go over the work we've done, we'll do some tests, and we'll keep you in here for observation for several more hours. If all checks out, you should be good to be discharged later today. Now, Mr. Icicle, you're a first time patient here so I have to ask: Do you have anyone to accompany you upon being discharged? You will ideally want someone keeping tabs on you for the next several days."
"Yes," Artemis said.
"Sounds like I do," Cameron answered.
"Great," Dr. Jernan said, giving both of them a smile. "Then let's get started.
A/N: Our poor girl Artemis, can never catch a break. Cameron isn't going out of her sight now.