Artemis had faced down some the roughest, most terrible villains the world had to offer. She'd stared down the Batman as he fixed her with one of his infamous Bat-Glares. At the young age of fifteen, she'd faced certain death way more times than the average adult. In the last week alone, she'd been to hell and back.
Yet, she'd never been more anxious in her life.
She gripped the thin fragile stem of a single chain of bluebells too tightly, her knuckles turning white with the pressure. Her back was stiff and rigid, her eyes alert. A hand rested on her shoulder, pulling her gaze back to the man standing behind her. Ollie had promised he would stay with her. But, even though he was there, she was almost scared.
A fat raindrop fell on her nose, making her wince, and Oliver adjusted the umbrella so it covered her completely. The cement path beneath her new sneakers was slick with a day's worth of heavy Gotham rain. The dropping temperatures threatened to freeze up the already treacherous roadways and sidewalks. Fog was beginning to descend and settle on the ground and thunder murmured in the distance. It seemed like the weather had just decided to skip autumn and go straight to winter.
With a deep breath and a shot of courage, Artemis willed herself to keep walking forward despite the pain prickling her chest with each footfall. Rows and rows of headstones flowed past as she kept moving. She hadn't been here since the funeral but she still knew exactly where to go.
Her feet had unconsciously led her through the cemetery as her mind wandered off, not wanting to think about what hurt the most. Abruptly, she stopped. All too soon, she had reached the spot. The headstone was simple; her name, the date of her birth, the date of her death, and the words "loving mother". There was no mention of her time as Huntress, of her villainous husband, or of her jail time. Paula Nguyen-Crock was free from these labels now. She was even free from the Crock name. Artemis had insisted that the headstone only feature her mom's maiden name.
Silently, Artemis stepped out from underneath the cover of the black umbrella. She was glad it was raining; the rain hid her tears. More than anything, the blonde wanted to pull on her costume and become Artemis the vigilante. It was easier to pretend she had no emotions when she was her crime-fighting alter ego. But, she couldn't hide behind a mask right now. She couldn't even hide behind Ollie. Artemis knew she had to stop avoiding it, stop trying to deny it, stop pretending this wasn't something she was going to have to live with. It still hurts. Ollie's words rang out in her head, a reminder of their shared pain.
Stooping down, she gently laid the bluebells down on the grass. There were a thousand things she could have said, things you say at graves. But she stayed silent. Tears slipped down on her cheeks and mingled with the rain before dropping off her chin and falling to the earth below. A frigid wind blew her damp hair across her face and caused shivers to shake her body. Softly, she sang the last line of her mother's favorite Vietnamese lullaby. The bittersweet memory of her mother explaining the translation to her only caused more tears to fall. "It means 'rest your head and let the angels guide you to sleep'," she had said all those years ago.
She stood there, head bowed, in silence for what seemed like an eternity, minutes, hours, it could have been days for all she knew. She stood there until she couldn't cry anymore, until she was utterly soaked to the bone and shivering violently, until Ollie put his hand on her shoulder again. Turning to face him, she wiped away any leftover tears. Her gaze met his and for a moment a silent understanding passed between the two of them. Choking back sobs, Artemis wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his chest. Hesitantly, Oliver returned the hug, dropping the umbrella and forgetting the rain.
"Thanks, Dad."