Failsafe
- - - October 16th - - -
He had watched her die.
Wally wouldn't let her go. He clung to Artemis, her arms wrapped around her slender body, his face buried in her golden locks, not caring what it looked like, because he had to feel her warmth, had to convince himself that she was still alive…
He had watched her die.
Next to them, Megan sobbed against Superboy's shoulder, stammering apologies. Aqualad and Robin stood helplessly in the centre of the room, at the spot from where Martian Manhunter had orchestrated the fateful simulation.
They had been set up to fail.
Martian Manhunter had trembled while trying to explain how everything had gone so horribly wrong. He, too, had apologized, before Batman had led him off.
None of it had been real.
"It's all right", Artemis murmured.
He still couldn't let her go.
They had all agreed to the psychic simulation. Wally remembered how excited he'd been to try out that cool new type of training exercise. Batman had written the program, Martian Manhunter had made it come to life in their minds. A global alien attack, a desperate mission.
An impossible mission.
They might not have known their exact mission parameters, had not known that there was no way to win that game. But they had known that it was nothing but that - a game.
Until Artemis had been shot by a disintegration beam.
It had just seemed too real. Involuntarily, Megan's subconsciousness had hijacked that horrible simulation, taking control.
From that moment on, it had been real, for them.
And they had died.
Every single one of had had had to perish, falling into a coma, before Martian Manhunter was finally able to severe their fatal mind link, to guide all of them back into reality.
"It is not your fault", Aqualad tried to comfort their crying team mate, patting Megan's back. "None of this was your intention."
"It's all right", Artemis repeated. "I am fine."
"Don't you dare die on me again", Wally whispered into her hair.
He should really let her go now.
When he started to move, she pulled him even closer, leaning deeper into his embrace.
"I won't", she promised, her voice as shaky as his.
He held her in his arms, savouring her warmth, listening closely to the beating of her heart.
If this was real, it was all he ever needed.
J'onn staggered into the cave's guest room and collapsed on the floor.
He had not felt this exhausted for decades.
M'gan was stronger than him. How could she be stronger than him, at her youthful age?
He had severely underestimated her raw telepathic power. That blunder could have cost all of their lives.
Still shaking, he folded his trembling limbs beneath him. Their confrontation had drained him. It had taken all of his skills and mental strength just to remind himself that he was still inside a simulation. Her subconscious convictions had been too strong, far too strong, for him to overcome, even when all the other anchors had passed out. He had seen no other choice but to confront his niece with a scenario so unexpected, so blunt and shocking, that even her most primal instincts were forced to reject it.
He had stabbed her through the chest.
'This can't be happening.'
Her shattered trust, that single desperate outcry, had finally allowed him to break her barriers.
'This isn't happening. None of this is real.' He had laid every last ounce of his strength into that call.
And she had accepted it. She had finally allowed him to guide her back.
He had not drained himself like that in decades. Back on Mars, his telepathic training had sometimes been similarly taxing, but never on Earth.
He still remembered the calming exercises, the meditative poses his Martian instructors had taught him. He barely felt his limbs lengthen, his torso widening, as he sank into the familiar resting trance.
Alfred picked up his communicator, reconnecting the call. He had finally located Diana Prince, Wonder Woman, at a charity function in Metropolis. If required, she could reach the cave in less than ten minutes.
"They woke up", Bruce stated instead of a greeting.
A heavy sigh escaped from Alfred's lips.
"How?"
"J'onn was able to shock Miss Martian out of her trance. They are shaken, but awake, and physically unharmed."
Good. Oh, good. He was growing too old for this kind of nerve-rattling tension.
The fact that Bruce had even considered calling in Wonder Woman for assistance had said more than enough. He hated showing weakness, especially in front of her.
"Miss Prince's presence will not be required, then?"
"Affirmative."
They had only suspected that her mythical Lasso of Truth could have helped the Martians overcome their predicament, by conveying that the tasteless scenario the team was trapped in was, in fact, untrue…
"The team is staying over at the cave tonight, I assume?" It was a request, not a question. Nobody should be left alone after such a traumatizing experience. Beside young Wally West, none of the others had healthy family homes to return to.
"Agreed."
Alfred nodded silently, acknowledging his warden's uncommon cooperativeness.
"About those other programs you wrote for that Martian computer…"
He had seen some of their plans. Training sessions for the League, to steel themselves for impossible encounters. Bloody battles, hostage situations, psychological warfare, Chaos incarnate…
Of course, most League members had been excited to volunteer. Sometimes he wondered if any of them were actually sane. What if the Martian Manhunter had gotten lost in one of those death traps?
Master Bruce had insisted on testing the technology first. With subjects unable to melt a hole through solid rock if they accidentally focussed their eyes the wrong way, and with a comparably harmless scenario. Instant disintegration, he had claimed, was not the worst way to die.
"Off the table", Bruce promised.
"Very well." Alfred would make sure it stayed that way.
Only after distributing a gallon of hot chocolate among the disturbed teens did Mary dare to let them out of her sight for a moment. They were still badly shaken, but the haunted looks in their eyes had slowly abated.
Shaking her head, Mary went to check on J'onn. He had been too exhausted to even climb the stairs to the Zeta station, taking refuge in one of the cave's many spare bedrooms instead.
The door stood half open. Was he still awake?
She gazed into the room.
The figure on the floor was defined by sharp angles. Long, thin arms ended in strangely prolonged fingers, a thin waist gave way to a wide pelvis, shoulders, knees and ankles stood out sharply against his costume's organic black fabric. His head, resting between his bony hands, was long and pointy, his lack of lips or nose compensated by an overabundance of cheekbones. Strands of muscles protruded from his strong neck in various shades of green. His blue cape had fallen to the floor beside him.
He must have sensed his intrusion. Blinking sheepishly, a familiar set of red eyes met her own.
"I'm sorry for waking you, J'onn", she whispered. "Is there anything you need?"
She had been surprised. She had not screamed, or fainted, or tried to attack him. She had merely been surprised. He shook his drowsy head in wonder.
No, thank you, he was going to be just fine. Yes, please do close the door behind you.
His true Martian form. She had seen his true Martian form, and she had not even screamed.
As if today had not been strange enough yet.
Morphing back into his customary appearance, J'onn heaved himself onto the bed and drifted back to sleep.
- - - October 17th - - -
Her sister was too pretty for this part of Gotham. Even wearing her baggy street clothes and covering her blond curls with a stained black hoodie, Artemis still stood out in this crowd.
Well, even a tramp would have looked dapper in this ratty bar – and probably would have been robbed of his tattered rags by the regulars.
Arty ordered a gin and tonic. The bull behind the counter did not bother to card her, but at least charged her double. She paid up and left, glass in hand, through the back door.
Downing her beer, Jade rose and followed.
She found Arty on a rooftop a few buildings down the street, the only decent perch on the suburb. Her sister hadn't bothered bringing the drink with her.
"Gin and tonic?", Jade asked.
Their mother's favourite.
"Mom's fine", Arty answered. "Asks if you're joining us for dinner on Thanksgiving?"
Jade just snorted, not dignifying that with a reply.
"Why are you here?"
"Why are you here, Jade? Seriously, what are you doing in this slum?"
Not paying any rent, mainly. Keeping an ear to the underground. Resting, catching up on her routines, waiting till the next madman sent her on an acquisition mission half across the globe...
"What, you want me to join a posh little school like my precious little sister?"
"Honestly? Yeah. Sure beats working for Dad, right?"
She hissed. "Not my call."
"Why not? You don't owe him."
"Course not." She'd love to stab the bastard's back. Unfortunately, they happened to share the same employer, temporarily.
"Then drop him."
"What's this, the saint's trying to convert her fallen sister?" Jade donned her Cheshire grin. "Honey, you don't think your little herd of lambs would keep you in their midst for a second longer if you'd show your true pelt?"
"They know", she said softly.
Jade's eyes narrowed. "Not buying it."
"They've known for a month. They trust me. They really care for me…"
There was a strange look in her sister's eyes, lending an unknown depth to her words. Something meaningful had happened...
Jade almost choked. "Don't tell me you're dating one of those dorks?"
"What? No!"
Way too much denial in that voice. Jade grinned widely.
"No, seriously, I'm not!"
"Oh, is it that super-clone? The hot Atlantean? Or that cute little red-head?"
"Shut up!"
"Good for you, sis"
And she meant it. Arty did belong on the bright side, with or without a boy. At least one of them should make it out.
Her sister shrugged off her embarrassment, turning serious once more.
"Join me, Jade."
"You know I can't."
"Why not?"
Vexatious little brat. "Does your pompous school not teach you what the word 'assassin' means?"
Cheshire had blood on her hands. The League would never forgive that.
"What's your count?"
Jade froze. Nobody asked that question lightly, that was one of the unwritten laws of the Shadows.
"More than one", she growled.
"More than two?"
"Does that matter?"
It did, though, and they both knew it.
Arty sighed. "Dad was so proud when you chose that assignment, your inauguration. The butchers. The hardest hit on the list."
They had looked so surprised, when the poison took effect. Two tiny darts. She had not even touched them.
"Naja venom", Jade whispered. "No symptoms beside heavily dilated pupils. Without the antitoxin, you drop dead within fifteen minutes."
It had been too merciful.
Arty didn't meet her eyes. "I know what they did to that senator's daughters. They've found enough... parts in the ashes."
She had drenched the place in gasoline, set it all on fire, afterwards. It had not been enough to cleanse the image from her mind. Those little feet...
Arty handed her a flimsy piece of paper.
"My new number. Call me if you change your mind, okay?"
Jade shook her head, but her eyes betrayed her, scanning the scribbled digits.
When she looked up again, Arty was already vaulting off the roof.
"Thanksgiving dinner's at seven", her sister called back, before disappearing down the street.
Jade crumpled up the note and dropped it into the nearest rain pipe.
Though not without memorizing the number, first.
Author's note:
Greetings, Jade! I love writing her point of view - even her thoughts are snarky. I admit that Artemis hasn't gotten much of the spotlight so far, but there will be more archer-focussed scenes in the future!
I am also terribly sorry for including Alfred so rarely. Just trust me that he is always hovering right behind the scenes, ever ready in case someone needs his help - or a stern look and a gentle reminder that, yes, Bruce, they are still kids... (Of course Batman had a backup plan to end that fateful simulation, you didn't truly believe otherwise, did you?)