Artemis

She watched the child stalk out of the room, the weary walk of all children headed to their lessons. She knew his to be a world apart from other children his age; instead of running around a playground, he would be running an obstacle course. Sword lessons would replace those in cursive, and stealth instruction would take the place of story time. Artemis knew what that childhood was like – cold and alienating, constantly striving for and falling short of some twisted approval that took the place of parental affection. Children of the Shadows were rarely well-adjusted.

Damian was young enough to break out of their mold, and his curiosity was the key. Underneath the boy's bravado lay a sheltered child, looking to gleam any piece of information about his missing family. Her thoughts had gone immediately to her own child, growing up with only secondhand knowledge of his or her father. She could see it in the way Damian absorbed her stories with wide eyed wonder, and his disbelief reinforced her suspicion that Ra's and Talia had neglected to mention just how large of a family he truly had. That was the first rule of grooming a Shadow: keep them close. Don't give them another option.

Artemis had privately decided then and there that she had another mission aside from freeing herself from the Shadows. Her heart had ached when he had leaned into her affectionate petting, so obviously touch-starved that he pressed into her hand like a cat. She was absolutely taking the son of the Bat with her when she escaped the island.

"I see you've taken to taming young Master Damian," Aqil began conversationally, an amused twinkle in his eye.

Artemis swallowed down some mercifully bland oatmeal. "Someone had to. If his ego got any bigger, I don't think his little body could handle it. One moment he'd be barking orders and the next, poof," she imitated an explosion with her fingers, "spontaneous combustion. No more tiny terror." She took another bite of oats. "Really, it's for his own health."

"Speaking of health," the Shadow stared her down with an accusingly arched eyebrow, "you seem to be picking at your food."

"Being preggers is fine. Being preggers and a hostage is a bit on the stressful side," she grumbled. She picked up an orange and speared her thumb through the skin a bit more aggressively than she had intended. The juices squirted out, and she quickly closed her eyes against their sting. Too late. Artemis blindly grabbed the napkin and pressed it against her eye with a sigh. "It's super conducive to disturbing hormone dreams and follow-up anxious vomiting. Zero out of ten, would not recommend."

"Seeing as I can't become pregnant, your recommendation is both noted and disregarded."

Artemis finished peeling the fruit and popped an section into her mouth. Tart. "So how do you know all this, anyway? They wouldn't have picked you for this job randomly. Former doctor?"

"Once, yes, though not in the manner you are thinking. It was a long way to the city, however, and I made do for my village and those close by. I have seen both my wife and daughter through pregnancies," Aqil responded, a pained smile stretching his lips, "one successful, the other not so much – although that had less to do with prenatal care, and more so with the missiles that rained down upon my village."

Artemis swallowed with a wince. Typical recruitment story: lost everything in a moment, only to be then given a new purpose in the Shadows. "I'm sorry." He shook his head.

"My tragedy led me to the Great One, and I am indebted to him and his mission. He asked me to be your caretaker, and I treat my role with great honor and duty. Please, Ms. Crock, drink your water," Aqil reminded gently. She did.

"So, what's wrong with you?" Damian asked, apropos of nothing.

The child – charmingly and obliviously blunt as ever – had returned after his morning lessons and declared that he would take his lunch with her. Artemis had merely shuffled over and opened up the side of the bed that he had claimed earlier that morning. He had climbed up with such a show of forced nonchalance that Artemis had merely rolled her eyes and bodily tugged him over. Now, he sprawled across the center of the bed, unmindful of its other occupant and uncaring of appearances.

"Nothing's wrong with me," Artemis retorted. She almost felt insulted until she realized that she had no idea what he was talking about. "I'm perfectly fine."

"You're throwing up," he pointed out accusingly. "Your guard is bringing you pills. You're sick."

Oh, that's what he meant. "I'm not sick. I'm pregnant." She sighed. Artemis really was not one for the cabbage patches or stork stories, and she really couldn't believe that Talia or Ra's would sugarcoat something like sexual reproduction, but she knew she would still have to water down the facts for the kid. "I'm still relatively early on, and my body is still getting used to growing another human. I get vitamins to help with that, to make sure the baby stays healthy as it gets bigger."

"Oh." He pondered for a moment. A gull cried outside. "So that's why you're fat."

Artemis bludgeoned him with a pillow.

"So this Puffin guy–"

"Penguin."

"What's the difference?"

"A lot? I don't know, kid. Puffins fly."

"Well, they're both birds."

"What was your question?"

"Does he actually turn into a bird?"

"Nah, he just kinda looks like one."

"That's boring."

"Agreed."

"If these people have been such a problem for my father, why doesn't he kill them? Especially that Joker…" Damian grumbled into his knees. His legs were pulled up to his chest, his arms wrapped over his ankles. It was such an unsteady position, Artemis resisted the urge to poke and topple him over.

"That's something only Batman can answer, I think. He has a strict code, and he lives by it, regardless of the consequences. But… I think part of it is the same principle that all heroes must live by." He laid his cheek flat on his knees to look up at her. She brushed a thumb across his brow. "Heroes don't take lives. We save the innocent, and hold the guilty accountable according to the law. As much as we want to always save everyone, sometimes," Artemis swallowed against the memory of he wanted me to tell you… "we don't always come out fine. We save as many as we can, and we live with the memory of those that we can't."

Damian regarded her quietly. The waves crashing beneath her window filled the silence, and the early afternoon sunlight streamed across the bed. "Grandfather says people are killing the world."

Artemis snorted "Well, he's not wrong, there."

"So why do you save them?"

"There are people killing the Earth, and there are people trying to save it. And I don't just mean heroes – I mean everyday people, trying their best to help. But even most of the people hurting the Earth don't do so maliciously, and they can often be turned around into undoing their mistakes. That's something you can never underestimate Damian: a human's ability to change. That's why we save them."

Damian hummed and closed his eyes. "I like that."

The sunset slowly her room in bright mandarin, and Artemis received another visitor. "I see my grandson has taken quite an interest in you, Miss Crock."

Artemis cautiously moved from her stance by the window to the far side of the bed. As little as it would do should Ra's decide to make a move, having more obstacles between the two of them comforted her a small measure. "Well, he's certainly better company than my other options," she waved to the stoic figure by the door. The guard didn't so much as blink in response. "It's like those guards in front of Buckingham. Minus the funny fuzzy hats, of course."

"There is nothing quite like a child's curiosity," Ra's continued, as if she hadn't interrupted. "They're like sponges, soaking up any piece of information that might gain their fancy. I do believe you've been indulging him too much." He tossed some papers onto the floor like a gauntlet. From what she could see, they were tactical worksheets, designed to teach maneuvers and strategy at a young age. Fat birds were doodled in the margins.

"I know I'm ruining his diet of half-truths and systematic brainwashing, but I like kids, and I spoil them when I can." When Damian had left for his afternoon lessons, he had happily insisted that he would return for dinner and more stories about his family. Artemis had found herself looking forward to the meal and had been weighing which adventures to tell; normally, such stories would be held strictly under a big red CONFIDENTIAL stamp, but she knew that they were vital to change Damian's impressionable little mind.

"Whatever change you seem determined to affect, I'm afraid that you won't be around long enough to make a lasting impression."

Artemis tensed, her entire being screaming danger! as her more rational thought took stock of the casual weaponry she had been cataloguing since she had arrived in her prison. "You need me alive."

"Only until the child is born; after that, you are quite useless to me. I would have no reason to keep a viper so poisonous in my nest." He wandered toward the bookshelf, scanning the titles absently. "I trust you have been comfortable here?"

"Quite," she hissed through grit teeth.

"It's a pity you won't be staying. Shadows, if you will." The guards stationed in the corridor burst into the room, and Artemis immediately grabbed hold of the desk chair and swung it into the closest attacker. The wood splintered across their head, and the Shadow went down. Artemis flung what remained of the seat into the next Shadow, hoping to slow them down, and sprinted toward the bathroom.

"Careful with her! We need the fetus unharmed," she heard Ra's demand from the other room. Artemis tore the heavy ceramic lid off of the toilet tank and hefted it like a baseball bat. It cracked against the first Shadow that entered the room and broke against the second, giving her only a moment to reach inside the tank itself and tear out the thin metal float arm.

A sigh. "Don't be foolish, Miss Crock." She stabbed her makeshift senbon into her next attacker, eliciting a cry of pain, but two other Shadows moved forward to subdue her, one arresting her hands and another threatening a chokehold around her neck. Artemis stiffened as they marched her back into the bedroom and before an irritated Ra's al Ghul. "Now, what purpose did that serve? You've simply ruined the plumbing and a perfectly good chair."

Artemis tried – and failed – to blow a shank of hair out of her face. "My doctor did call for light to moderate exercise." Ra's looked at her with reproach. "So what, back to the dungeons?"

"No, I believe a change of scenery is in order. Your disappearance seems to have made quite a stir, and I don't intend on the Justice League spoiling my plan." Artemis felt the sting of a needle in her neck and cried out. Ra's image wavered before her, though he seemed more pleased than he had previously. "Rest well, Tigress. Your cub is well, and you'll be in your new enclosure soon enough."

Artemis felt her world tilt on its axis, and she let her gaze slide to the open door. She was met Damian's wide-eyed panic; his lessons for the day must have ended. He was going to eat here, again. His mouth hung open in silent shock or despair, and he was held in place by Aqil's firm grip on his shoulder. The older Shadow refused to meet her eyes.

She smiled at the boy that she had so quickly become so fond of, Ra's was wrong – he'd remember.

The darkness swam over her vision, and she went with it.