AN: I promise I haven't abandoned this fic! Life and writers block have gotten in my way, but I'm trying my best to get back on track! I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING.

Season 1, Episode 14: "Revelation"

Artemis
Bayou Bartholomew
October 1, 19:58 CDT

"We will make our own fun – as we have been trained. Maneuver seven!"

Catching on, Artemis ran towards Aqualad. Using his webbed hands as a step, she jumped up and propelled herself through the air to land her boot on Posion Ivy's face.

In her peripheral vision, Artemis saw Kid Flash thrown aside by Black Adam, but there was nothing she could do for him now – Ivy was advancing on her and she had no bow and arrows to defend herself.

Utilizing everything she learned from training sessions with Black Canary, Artemis pounced. She was no stranger to hand-to-hand combat, but it wasn't every day that she sparred with someone who could sprout throttling vines with a snap of her fingers.

Ivy jumped back and Artemis followed, but before she could land a punch, Ivy raised her arms and a vine as thick as her torso shot up from the ground. The tip of the vine slammed into her side with the force of a stampeding bull and she was thrown backwards.

"Ahh!"

The power immediately knocked the wind out of her, and Artemis felt all of the air whisked out of her lungs before she landed on the jungle floor with a thud. Staring up at the canopy of trees, she found herself unable to move a finger or draw a single breath. She was vaguely aware of Robin's batarangs exploding and decimating the satellite plant, but she was too preoccupied trying to catch her breath to celebrate their success.

She might not be underwater, but the sensation was strikingly similar drowning.

So much for not drowning three missions in a row, she thought sourly.

Artemis Crock
Gotham City
October 3, 23:59 EST

Artemis Crock emerged from the alleyway where the zeta tube disguised as out of order telephone booth was stationed. As she rounded the corner she heard a church bell chime in the distance, signaling midnight.

She quickened her pace, senses on high alert for muggers and other low lives that often prowled the streets of Gotham after hours – not that she was afraid, they were nothing that she couldn't handle – but on nights when the team didn't have a mission her curfew was midnight, and she was late enough without having to waste time fending them off.

Artemis sighed.

Training at the cave had run overtime, which was why she was rushing home in the first place. Black Canary was their den mother this week, and she was using the opportunity to hold daily training sessions. It was exhausting, but Canary had insisted that the back-to-back exercises would help increase their endurance. Today she had them run on the treadmills in the cave's gym – something that Wally found extremely entertaining as he watched from the sidelines with Captain Marvel catering to his every whim.

Artemis suddenly found herself smiling at the thought of the moronic redhead, and the realization immediately wiped the grin off her face.

Her apartment gradually came into view, and when she arrived at the stoop she found her neighbor passed out on the steps, an empty beer bottle in his hand. Rolling her eyes, she stepped over his snoring form and fished around in her pocket to retrieve her keys. They slipped from her fingers and landed with a clang on the cement porch.

Her neighbor immediately jerked awake, the empty bottle slipping from his grasp and shattering on the steps as he jumped up. He cursed fluently and quickly spun around, but he lost his balance and nearly toppled down the stairs. Grabbing the railing for support, he swayed precariously as his glassy eyes finally focused on Artemis,

"Oh. It's just you. Evening, Crotch."

Artemis didn't bother correcting her surname, she just nodded and bent down to retrieve her keys. The hem up of shirt rode up, reveling a nasty black and blue decorating her flank.

Her neighbor whistled,

"That's quite some bruise you've got there!"

Artemis quickly stood up and pulled her shirt down,

"It's nothing," she said shortly.

"Sure doesn't look like nothing!" Her neighbor said before belching loudly.

Artemis ignored him, trying to fit her key into the broken lock.

"What did you get yourself into this time?" Her neighbor asked, "Were you out stirring up trouble? Is that why you're home so late?"

Artemis continued to ignore his existence and he grinned wickedly,

"Ah, I see. Was it another family reunion?"

Artemis abandoned her struggling and pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration,

"I walked into the corner of my kitchen table."

There was a short pause, and then her neighbor sniggered,

"You did what?"

Artemis huffed impatiently and turned to glare at him,

"I got home late last night and I was trying to sneak inside so I didn't turn on the lights and I walked into the corner of the kitchen table – it was an accident, alright?!"

Her neighbor sniggered again and arched an eyebrow,

"Home late two nights in a row?" He hiccupped and then wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, "late-night rendezvous with someone special?"

Artemis snorted in disgust before determinedly turning her back on him and shoving her key into the lock. Forcing it to turn, she shouldered open the door and theatrically slammed it shut on her neighbor's raucous laughter.

Kid Flash
Bayou Bartholomew
October 1, 20:03 CDT

"The Helmet of Fate!"

Kid Flash looked up in horror as Aqualad procured the Helmet of Fate from his duffel bag. His stomach contracted fearfully at the sight of the golden helmet. He hadn't told anyone about his experience with Nabu because that would mean openly acknowledging the existence of magic – but it also meant that no one knew how close he had come to becoming the helmet's next host. If it weren't for Kent Nelson, Fate might have never released him. As he watched Aqualad prepare to put on the helmet, he made the split decision to shelve his pride and warn his teammate,

"No, Aqualad, don't!"

A fist suddenly appeared out of nowhere, crashing into his face with immense force. Kid Flash was sent hurtling into a tree, and he heard something snap in his arm as he collided painfully with the trunk.

"UGH!"

Agonizing pains shot through his arm as he fell to the muddy ground with a soft thud. He knew it was broken, but that was least of his problems now – Aqualad had put on the helmet. He struggled to his feet, his throbbing arm hanging limply by his side,

"Oh, dude."

Wally West
Central City
October 3, 17:19 CDT

Wally West trudged up to his front door, his feet dragging on the stairs. He was exhausted, hungry, and his arm was itching in a spot under his cast that he couldn't reach. All he wanted to do was guzzle down a quick dinner and collapse on his bed.

Unfortunately, the weight of his backpack on his spine reminded him that he had a history paper to write if he wanted to meet the deadline and receive a halfway-decent grade.

With his mind on the hours of work ahead, Wally didn't realize what he was walking into until it was too late. Swinging open his front door, he froze with one foot over the threshold as he took in the scene: about a dozen woman were seated around his living room, all holding the same paper-back novel.

Oh.

Oh no.

"Wallace!"

"Why, you've grown a head since I've last seen you!"

"Come inside, you're letting in the chill!"

Accepting the invitation into his own house, Wally reluctantly let the door slam shut behind him. With everything going on he had completely forgotten to check the calendar for his mom's upcoming book club meeting. He tried to hide his casted arm behind his back to avoid awkward questions, but the elderly woman was not easily deceived:

"What's that on your arm, Wallace?"

Sighing and resisting the urge to speed up to his room, he procured his arm and showed the group his cast. Several women gasped and the elderly woman pursed her lips,

"What happened to you?"

Wally sighed and then forced a grin,

"It's kind of a funny story… I slept through my alarm yesterday, so I was running late for school –"

The elderly woman tutted disapprovingly but Wally ignored her,

"I was in such a rush to get ready that I didn't notice my shoes were untied until I tripped on the laces when I was leaving my house."

"Oh my!"

"That's terrible!"

Wally shrugged,

"I tried to catch myself, but I landed sideways on my arm and – crack!" he snapped his fingers for emphasis and a few women winced, "broke my ulna."

The elderly woman muttered something that sounded suspiciously like "cumbersome" under her breath while the rest of the group expressed their sympathies.

Wally shifted the weight of his book bag from one shoulder to the other and took a hesitant step towards the stairs,

"Yeah, well… It was nice seeing you all," he lied, waving his casted hand towards the group, "but I have to –"

"Who's Artemis, Wallace?" the elderly woman asked suddenly, "Is that your girlfriend?"

Bemused and slightly alarmed, Wally followed her gaze to the point on his cast where Artemis had signed her name.

He felt the blood rush to his face, but for some reason he found himself less repulsed by the question than he would have thought possible.

"Oh, Wallace, you have a girlfriend?"

"When can we meet her?"

"Oh, how lovely!"

The book club members continued to gush over the ridiculous notion, and Wally was suddenly grateful for his history essay if it meant that he had an excuse for escaping this mortifying conversation.

Robin
Bayou Bartholomew
October 1, 20:04 CDT

"Wonder Boy! You are mine!"

From his spot on the ground, Robin glared up at the Joker as he laughed manically, brandishing two shiny silver switchblades.

He jumped to his feet, narrowly dodging the Joker's erratic swings. His deranged cackle was ceaseless, and Robin fought to block out the disturbing sound. The Joker continued to lunge at him, his motions unpredictable. There was a sudden flash of silver, and Robin felt a searing pain as the tip of one blade slashed the exposed skin under his mask.

Determined to put some distance between himself and the sharpened knives, Robin back flipped, splashing through the mud. The Joker's eyes narrowed and his grin widened dangerously,

"Always wanted to carve this bird!"

Dick Grayson
Gotham City
October 2, 08:45 EST

Dick Grayson stood at his locker in Gotham Academy, unconsciously unpacking his book bag while his mind mulled over the mission from last night. The team had performed well, and the outcome was undoubtedly a success: the plant attacks had ceased as soon as he and M'Gann had destroyed the satellite plant in Bayou Bartholomew, and every member of the Injustice League was now safely behind bars – but why did he have a nagging feeling that he was missing something?

Dick shook his head in frustration. He was becoming as paranoid as Batman.

Suddenly, his locker door slammed shut and he found himself face to face with a very angry Barbara Gordon. Feigning oblivion, Dick smiled at her,

"Hey Barb! What's up?"

Barbara shot him a nasty look,

"Don't what's up me. Why have you been ignoring my calls? And –" she abruptly grabbed his shoulder and turned him around so that he was facing her, "what have you done to your face?!"

Dick grinned sheepishly, reaching up to prod the butterfly bandage covering the slash on his cheek,

"What, this? It's nothing, don't worry –"

"Cut it out, Dick," Barbara said sharply, "What happened?"

Dick sighed, relenting only because she was so angry,

"Bruce donated a bunch of money to the old animal shelter downtown. When we went to deliver the check the owner let me hold a cat, but it got spooked and scratched me with its claws."

Dick watched her as she considered this. He could tell by the way her eyebrows pulled together that she didn't believe it, but before she had the chance to challenge him, he shrugged and smiled,

"I'm more of a dog person, anyway."

The corner of Barbara's lips twitched, but she quickly pressed her mouth into a flat line as they started making their way down the hallway.

"So what's your excuse for ignoring all my calls? Did a lizard eat your phone?"

"Ha – ha," Dick said dryly, "I haven't been ignoring your calls I've just been… busy."

"Busy?" Barbara repeated skeptically, "Look, I get it if you –"

Dick suddenly grabbed her arm and pulled her none too gently into the nearest doorway.

"Dick, what the –"

"Sorry!" Dick said hurriedly, his back against the door, "I just saw my – my English teacher. I still haven't handed in my essay, and every time I see him he asks me about it."

In truth, he had seen Artemis – his alter-ego's teammate, but a stranger to Dick Grayson. To preserve his secret identity, Bruce had forbidden him from allowing Artemis to see the scratch on his face – an injury that she would surely recognize on Robin.

"This is a janitor's closet," Barbara said shortly.

She glared at him in the semi-darkness, and Dick quickly weighed his options:

Stay in the closet and risk infuriating Barbara even further, or leave the closet and risk blowing his secret identity.

Heavy with regret, he chose the former.

"I know, and I'm so –"

"What's going on with you?" Barbara snapped.

"Nothing," Dick said, slightly taken aback.

"Whatever," Barbara said, pushing him aside and wrenching the door open, "give me a call when you're ready to tell me how you really got that scratch."

She stalked out and slammed the door shut, leaving Dick alone and completely in the dark.