Tempest: Chapter Sixteen: After Hours


Amara was breathing hard, the muscles in her legs burning as her heart raced in her chest, her feet pattering against the ground as she ran.

Re-training was by far the worst thing she had ever experienced, especially with how out of shape she had gotten being Oracle (not that she had anything against being Oracle, being Oracle was fine, she would just rather be Storm Chaser, that's all). The only thing that had stayed pretty much constant was her upper body strength since Amara had still been able to train anything above the waist.

"And stop!"

Amara's shoes skidded as she came to a stop, bracing her hands to her knees, choking on her breath before looking up to Black Canary, whose smile was impossibly wide.

"You're doing great, Amy," she said, tossing her a bottle of water to chug on the way back into the Cave. "We'll have you back to full-strength in no time."

"You mean –I'm not –at full-strength –now?" Amara managed to gasp.

Dinah gave her an indulgent smile. "Nearly, but not quite, so, yes, you are still benched."

"BC, you are crashing my mode!"

Dinah snorted. It had been a while since she'd heard Amara's signature phrase, she had all but forgotten that Amara used to say it all of the time when Amara started it up again when they began her re-conditioning.

"I tend to do that," she said dryly. "Give it a few weeks, Amy, and then you can officially retire as Oracle and activate Storm Chaser once more."

"But a few weeks is forever!" Amara whined. "I've been out of the game for eight and a half months, Dinah! I need to kick some ass for my health!"

"Wow, for your health, really?" her mentor said with a bit of sarcasm that made Amara stick out her tongue.

"I'm dying!" Amara proclaimed with an air of drama that was just a touch too much. "You and the whole Justice League are killing me! That's what's going to happen if you keep me out of the field!"

"You'll be fine, just as long as you don't get into anymore trouble before you're officially cleared for field work."

"What kind of trouble could I possibly get into?" Amara grumbled mutinously to herself. "I'm living vicariously through my friends' exploits."

A dark cloud settled over Amara at the thought, something that had Dinah grimacing, because dark cloud wasn't just an expression for Amara, dark cloud meant there was a physical dark cloud formed subconsciously above Amara's head because her powers were fuelled by her emotions and were still difficult to control.

"I think I know something that might cheer you up," she added as the Cave's entrance shut behind them.

"Doubt it," Amara countered.

"You'll like this, I promise," Black Canary laughed, gesturing her towards the empty hall where Amara's old Storm Chaser uniform had been stored, but when Dinah pressed the button, there was a very different uniform that slid out into view.

And it was stunning, which was a strange way to describe an article of clothing, but to Amara, who hadn't been Storm Chaser in months, it was a thing of beauty. The outfit was mostly black –just as it had been before– but where there had been grey there was now blue. The blue wasn't very noticeable and Amara was almost certain the design was in such a way that if she stood a certain way it would seem reminiscent to a cloud; Amara liked it, it was subtle and God knew that a lightning bolt would have been far too ridiculous. The upper chest was stiff under her fingers as she roved her fingers over it.

"Reinforced," Dinah said, noticing her interest, "its light weight but it might throw you a little off when you first put it on, but it'll at least protect your chest when it comes down to it."

"Thanks," Amara said quietly, drawing her hand back to rub at one of the scars she had on her chest from Merlyn's arrows.

"She had to refit everything since you've grown in the past few months," Black Canary added, "and we completely replaced your utility belt." She raised a hand to tap at the dark grey colored belt with various pouches, not unlike Robin's –though Amara's at least wasn't as bright and obvious as Robin's golden one. "It's got your usual: rebreather, grappler, gas pellets, flash grenades, bolas…but S.T.A.R. Labs came up with something that might interest you."

Interest piqued, Amara's eyebrows rose. "What is it?" she asked curiously.

And a few seconds later she was holding what appeared to be a flimsy whip of flexible steel.

"It's not a very durable substance, but its only designed to briefly stall and its conductive, which means you can send a shock through it."

"Cool!" Amara flicked it for good measure, to test out how well it worked, sending a ripple of electricity down it from grip to tip and the material glowed and sparked from the effort, starling her slightly. "Whoa!"

"There's no assurance that it'll hold up against the power of your voltages," Dinah added before her protégé could get too swept away with her new toy. "What I'm saying is don't rely on it too much."

"I've got my bo-staff, no worries, and I still kick ass with my batons," Amara added, inspecting the material of the whip with intensity. She'd kept up with her bo-staff and baton training despite her previous lack of use in her legs, though it had been easier to train with her batons than expanding them into the bo-staff. "What are my chances of getting to put this on in a week?"

Her green eyes were large and imploring, but Dinah was largely immune.

"Very slim, Amy."

Amara pouted, turning away so Dinah couldn't see the smile on her lips or the ideas springing forth in her mind.


Cheshire was running through the shadows, darting about unseen, which was remarkably easy when you were an assassin, and she spotted her destination quite easily –it wasn't as though she'd never been there before– so she climbed her way up the winding branches until she was perched outside the window.

Cracking the window took very little effort, but creeping inside took a bit more, but in a matter of moments she was standing lightly on the floor, moving silently towards the bed.

Amara was slumbering peacefully despite the fact that there was a deadly assassin not too far away. Her laptop was in reach, resting precariously at the end of her bed, and her comlink and phone were on her bedside table in case she needed to grab them in a hurry.

Cheshire flicked the sleeping girl's cheek, making her jerk awake suddenly with a swear: "Dammit, Jade!"

Cheshire snorted as the meta-human reached over to turn on the lamp at her bedside, wincing as she looked up at the assassin before starting in surprise. "Whoa, you look like hell."

"Aw, Storm, you know how to woo a girl~!" Cheshire purred, making Amara flush a faint pink, scoffing.

"Let me guess, you're here for my first aid kit and sleeping bag?" Amara asked her dryly, leaning back against her bed with a low groan.

Amara wasn't quite sure how her life had devolved to this. Cheshire –or Jade Nguyen as that was her real name– had a common habit of coming to Amara for getting her information. She said it was because Amara was the least likely to double-cross her, but Amara thought she liked her just a little bit.

So Amara kicked off her covers, stretching before moving towards the bathroom, rubbing at her eyes as she leaned up on her tip-toes to pull the first aid kit from the shelf above the sink. Her first-aid kit was a bit more extensive, owing to it belonging to the sidekick to a hero, no doubt. Oliver and Dinah had given it to her after the first mission during which she had sustained some serious injuries.

"Want me to suture?" Amara asked her, sitting down on the edge of her tub. "You always leave too much space…"

She wasn't wrong, Cheshire knew. She had learned the hard way to suture her wounds the hard way and Amara was more skilled in the art.

Cheshire shrugged off the left sleeve of her kimono while Amara stood briefly to shut the bathroom's door before pulling out some spare suture thread and threading it through the needle before examining the slice on Jade's arm.

"Sword?" she queried, swabbing the skin around the gash with rubbing alcohol, cleaning it before she could begin the suturing process.

"Something like that," Cheshire said with a wide smirk that only made Amara roll her eyes, not even wincing as Amara began to thread the thread and needle through her flesh, drawing the broken skin together.

"I suppose your assassination went well, then?" Amara asked wryly.

They were an odd pair, that much couldn't have been denied. Being pseudo-friends with a member of the League of Assassins probably went against at least three unofficial rules of the Justice League but Amara had always thought she was in a bit of a grey area, being the daughter of a villain, yet training under a hero as their protégé. But with Cheshire it was different. Cheshire knew what it was like being the daughter of a villain; her parents were Sportsmaster and Huntress, Amara knew, she'd checked.

Really, she shouldn't condone Jade's assassinations, but Jade was an assassin and a majority of the people she killed were rather bad. In that respect the two had agreed to disagree on their stances on heroes and villains.

"Dead as a doornail," Jade said with a hint of pride in her voice that Amara chose to ignore in favor of jabbing her needle and thread through her skin once more.

The term had never meant very much to Amara; how could something be as dead as a doornail? A doornail wasn't alive!

"How's that archer partner of yours?" Jade asked instead.

Amara snorted. "It can't be good for business, flirting with a sidekick."

Cheshire shrugged her good shoulder, faintly amused. "A girl's allowed to have a little fun every now and then."

But Amara had to wonder if that was really all it was, fun. Of course, Jade didn't seem the type to fall for anyone, let alone someone who was willing to lock her up for her crimes. Yet Roy had gotten slightly embarrassed when she'd mentioned her before.

Amara continued her work in silence until she could knot the thread's end and clean the wound again from the blood that had seeped through while she had worked before pasting a bandage over the wound.

"That should do it," she said, replacing the first aid kit above the sink once more, making to go and wash her hands when Jade grasped her wrist suddenly, just this side of painful and Amara jerked back to look at her.

Jade's eyes were impossibly dark. "Someone's looking for you, Storm, someone with connections."

"Looking for me?" Amara repeated, her heart falling right into her stomach. "What are you talking about?"

"I didn't get this from my mark," Cheshire said wryly, gesturing down at her bandaged arm, a grim tightness in her jaw. "Whoever it was, they've got resources; I had to double-back three times getting here to avoid being tailed."

Amara swallowed thickly. It couldn't have been Merlyn, he'd probably been scared off since the last time their paths had crossed, and a majority of the Star City villains were under the impression that she was dead since Storm Chaser hadn't been seen out with Black Canary in months, that only left…

"My father's been out of prison for more than a year now," Amara said, breathing out sharply and shutting her eyes briefly. He had called the house more than twenty times to speak with her, all of which Amara had never picked up, though she thought it was a little odd, him calling her, since he'd always been at the least antagonistic and at the most abusive towards her.

"I'm leaving you some things."

She opened her eyes startled. "You don't have to do that."

Jade stared at her flatly. "I always cover my assets," she said shortly, but Amara rather thought she was going a bit out of her way, but she didn't mention it to the assassin.


When Amara awoke the next morning, her sleeping bag was rolled up tightly in the closet and there was a duffle bag under Amara's bed that the girl knew for certain wasn't hers.

She pulled it out, hefting it up onto her bed with a bemused expression.

Inside were several outfits that she knew came from her own closet, along with a loaded gun and a burner cell with a single set of coordinates programmed into it that Amara didn't recognize.

We're even –C said the slip of paper on the gun that Amara wasn't entirely certain she knew how to shoot (she barely knew how to shoot with the small crossbow that Roy had given her for her birthday).

A line formed between her eyebrows as she frowned.

Cheshire wasn't the type to get involved in her affairs…unless they could actually be considered 'friends' now…it was the type of thing Roy would have done for her.

And then she gave a fond smile, before stuffing the bag back under her bed hastily as her mother's voice came from downstairs.

"Coming!" Amara called, grabbing her combat boots and making her way downstairs, forgetting briefly of the possible threat of her father.


It was a good day to wrangle some lowlifes if you asked Artemis Crock. Or just Artemis, she supposed, given that she wasn't dressed in her usual attire.

Being the daughter of Sportsmaster had forged her into a well-oiled machine, but, sadly for her father, she didn't have any interest to follow in his or Jade's footsteps.

She leapt over the rooftops, following her target, a thief who had just stolen several hundred dollars from a shop owner just getting by. Her bow was drawn, her arrow notched, when the thief convulsed suddenly from a sudden electric shock.

"Hey!" she complained. "I had him!"

"Clearly," uttered a voice in faint amusement and the figure stepped into the light and Artemis had to stare. It looked like she wasn't the only kid under eighteen donning a costume in wake of the moon.

The newcomer wore all black, a contrast to her green, and it seemed that the only skin visible were her fingers and her upper neck and face, barring the mask around her eyes. And if Artemis shifted just slightly, she could swear the girl was wearing a blue cloud outline on her clothes. Talk about trippy.

"Who're you supposed to be?" she demanded, bow still at the ready.

"Storm Chaser," the girl said in such a manner that she might as well have added 'obviously' to the end of it.

"I've seen Storm Chaser on TV, she doesn't look like that," Artemis insisted, "besides, she's dead."

Isn't she? Artemis didn't really know; no one really knew about what had happened to the sidekick to Star City hero Black Canary. The Justice League certainly wasn't saying anything. Besides, Storm Chaser's home was Star City, not Gotham City, so it wasn't like she was in the loop or anything.

"The rumors about my death were greatly exaggerated," she could just barely see those green eyes rolling. "I was out of commission for a few months, though, and I got a new uniform for my trouble." She jabbed a thumb unnecessarily at her current garb.

"Coma?" Artemis presumed.

"Wheelchair," Storm Chaser corrected, leaning down over the thief as Artemis started in surprise, her mind drifting unwillingly to her own mother, stuck in a wheelchair since that misshap… then Storm Chaser straightened, hefting the bag of money Artemis had been chasing down. "This is what you were after, right? Gonna give it back to the owners?"

"Of course," Artemis said a little stung by the calculating glint in her eyes.

"Need a friend for patrol?" Storm Chaser asked, ignoring the tone as she tossed the money towards Artemis, who barely managed to catch it in her surprise.

"Um, well, I'm not official—" Artemis started to say, a little uncomfortable as Storm Chaser walked towards her. Up close Artemis could see her grey hair spiky from static and the delicate slant of her green eyes; just how old was she? Twelve? Thirteen?

"Oh, I know," Storm Chaser laughed. "I would have heard if there was another female sidekick around…as it is there's far too many boys in the gig. That's a little too much testosterone, if you get what I mean."

Artemis couldn't help but snort.

"Besides, I haven't technically been cleared for active duty," Storm Chaser sniggered. "Might as well do as many illegal things as possible while I still can."

"You're kinda crazy…"

"Robin says I'm an adrenaline junkie," she affirmed, grinning widely. "So, what do I call you? Green Arrow wannabe? Speedy'll get a kick out of that."

"I'm Artemis," Artemis told her shortly.

Goddess of the hunt, nice," Storm Chaser nodded approvingly, shooting a small bolt of lightning over her shoulder to where the thief had awakened and tried to make a getaway while the pair was distracted, and Artemis marveled how she didn't have to even look and she didn't miss!

"I'll call you Goddess," Storm Chaser decided and Artemis balked.

"What?"

"Oh, I give everyone nicknames," Storm Chaser explained in an offhand manner. "See, Speedy's Arrowhead, Robin's Little Bird, Kid Flash is Roadrunner, and Aqualad is Kelpie."

Storm Chaser winked. "Come on, Goddess, you've got to keep up."

Then she leapt off the building, leaving Artemis to follow after hastily.


An hour later Artemis' opinion of the small meta-human had improved greatly after seeing her take down several criminals with some sharp shocks and a few gadgets from her utility belt.

Then the pair had ordered some pizza at a local shop that didn't even blink at the sight of a pair of vigilantes. (And Artemis was secretly surprised that Storm Chaser actually had the foreknowledge to bring some money in one of her pouches)

"Do you go out in uniform?" Artemis asked, drumming her fingers against the table as her companion pulled out her phone to text someone with a small smirk. "I mean to eat?"

"There's this pasta place in Star City that's absolutely to die for," Storm Chaser said, her eyes lifting from the screen, "I don't think they're ever really surprised by us anymore."

"Same here," Artemis noted.

"Gotham's pretty chill about heroes," Storm Chaser said with a shrug, an eyebrow arching behind her mask. "Huh, looks like Batman's gone for the weekend, which explains why we haven't seen him…"

"How do you know?" Artemis asked in surprise. She too had noted a lacking in the appearance of the caped crusader.

"Robin," Storm Chaser said, gesturing with her phone, before laughing, "and now he wants to know what I'm doing gallivanting around when I haven't been cleared. Aw, its sweet how everyone worries about me, makes me want to ram my bo-staff into their skulls."

The sickly sweet voice she spoke in when she voiced her desire for violence made Artemis laugh.

"You've got spunk, kid."

"I can only take so much of it before I snap, which is a reasonable response, if you ask me," Storm Chaser replied, shrugging her shoulders. "Speedy's learned to accept my quirks."

Artemis dug a bite into her pizza, chewing slowly as she contemplated the girl across from her.

"You and Cheshire don't look all that alike," Storm Chaser said and Artemis nearly choked on her gulp of pizza.

"How do you know about that?" she demanded once she'd managed to swallow the bite.

"Your sister and I do each other favors," Storm Chaser said with a lack of concern.

"The League deals with an assassin?" Artemis asked sarcastically.

"Not the League," Storm Chaser shook her head, "just me."

Artemis' eyebrows arched in surprise at that. "That's ballsy," she said, unable to hide how impressed she was that the meta-human went behind the League's back to cultivate a relationship with a known assassin.

"It's what I'm good for," Storm Chaser said with a wide grin, "besides, we have something to bond over! Villainous dead-beat dads!"

"Who's your dad?"

"Oh, Goddess," Storm Chaser's eyes glittered behind her mask, "you've got to buy me dinner first before you get to ask me questions about my family relations."

And Artemis couldn't help but laugh at that.


Storm Chaser, Artemis decided when the night was done, was an interesting character, and it was certainly refreshing to see a girl out on the streets kicking ass in costume.

Now if only she could show her how she'd done that complicated flip…


"I said I was going to meet you for lunch and I'm going to do it, I promise," Amara said, laughing as she used her shoulder to keep the phone to her ear whilst doing up the ties on her combat boots.

"You said that last week, Amy," came her mother's amused tone from the other end as Amara almost tripped over her feet as she worked on the ties on the other shoe. "And then you got distracted by that computer program you and Robin have been working on."

"I was not!" Amara insisted. "Roy called me to do some information-seeking from him on that criminal they ran into. Duty calls, you know how it is."

"Yes, I do," Iris said wryly, "but I also know when something comes up, I cancel my plans."

Amara could practically see the direct look her mother would be casting towards her if she was there and she winced. "Okay, so maybe I was a little distracted…but this time I'm free, I promise, and I'm off work for the next hour, so—"

The doorbell rang as Amara pulled a light jacket over her shirt.

"Hang on it looks like there's someone at the door," she said, "I'll grab the bus and be over there soon, okay, Mom? Love you, bye!" And she shut the phone before her mother could say anything, stuffing the electronic into her pocket before opening the door to see a man standing there with dark eyes and slicked back blond hair, holding a manila envelope in his hands.

"Can I help you?" she said slowly, brow wrinkling in confusion.

"Amara Allen?" the man asked.

"Yes?"

"I have an envelope here for you," he said in a rather flat tone, "to be read immediately."

Now that was odd statement at best and a suspicious one at worst and Amara found herself caught somewhere between the two.

But she took the envelope from him, ripping it open and pulling out a multitude of printed photographs. Amara looked at the first one, her eyes widening and her heart beating impossibly fast in her chest.

It was from a few months back when she was still in her wheelchair, sitting across from Barry and Iris in the café outside of CCPD; Barry and Iris' faces bore red Xs.

She moved to the next one; it was of all the sidekicks together –save Aqualad– on a rare occasion at it had happened, and Roy, Wally, and Dick all had Xs over their faces.

"Someone's looking for you, Storm, someone with connections."

Cheshire's words echoed in her mind, clearer now than they had ever been.

Amara chose to not make it obvious as she sized up the man in front of her; clearly he was trained and she had a feeling he was here to subdue, not kill, but Amara was trained as well.

She threw the photos in his face, kicking him harshly in the gut before vaulting her way up the stairs, racing for her bedroom. The number one rule about having a secret identity was not to show who you were where you lived, which greatly limited her options, but not completely.

Amara locked the door behind her, digging under her bed for the bag Cheshire gave her, but he burst through the door faster than she could move, only managing to snag the strap with her fingers before he grabbed her, yanking her back.

"Let –me –go!"

"No can do, princess, you're worth a fortune to me," he said, injecting a needle into her neck before she had time to slam her heel down onto his foot, making his hold on her loosen, giving Amara just enough time to yank the unregistered gun Cheshire had left her free from the bag.

There was a sharp bang and then silence.