A/N: Sorry for the wait! I rewrote this chapter innumerable times before I was remotely satisfied with it. It's a bit short, but I didn't want to drag it out too much. Anyways, I'm a little apprehensive about this one, I feel like it interrupts the mood of the story but can't seem to make it fit without bogging it down overmuch. Just don't... judge me too harshly. Not too whelmed about reviews on this one, but I'll take what comes. Thanks!

Conner drifted far below the surface; he had long since given up trying to swim. If his brain had been working right, he would have wondered why the genomes had neglected to teach him something that suddenly seemed so vital to survival. But the point was moot, because he didn't want to survive anymore. The deep ocean seemed welcoming compared to the world above, a world that was nothing but defeat, and shame, and loss and grief and heartbreak. What was there for him? This was a fitting end to it all. Unnoticed. Ignored. Forgotten.

He felt thin arms wrap around his chest, felt himself rising, being pulled upwards, towards the surface and its light. He had not the strength to protest, but it didn't matter. Whoever was trying to save him, he decided, they were already too late.

Wally gasped great lungfuls of cold air the instant his head broke the surface. He could hear Artemis choking and spluttering just next to him. His hand felt strangely sore; it took him a moment to realize that he was still clutching her wrist, his fingers clenched so tightly it hurt when he finally pried them loose. She massaged her wrist, lifting it out of the water, while he flexed the muscles in his hand trying to ease the stiffness.

"Are—are you— all right?" he asked, breathing hard. She nodded, but the hollow look in her eyes told him she wasn't. Not really.

The ship was moving fast; in the short time since they'd jumped it had shrunk to a hulking shape in the distance that was rapidly getting smaller as it put more distance between them. Megan is trapped on that ship, he thought angrily, and all we can do is watch it disappear!

He pushed a button on his com-link. "Kid Flash to Justice League," he said. "Come in, anyone. We need help!"

Nothing. Silence.

With a grunt of frustration he wrenched the com out of his ear. Being submerged in water had shorted it out, making it useless. He flung it away from him, hearing it hit the water with a pitiful plunk.

"We n-n-need t-to get b-b-back to sh-shore," Artemis shivered, teeth clenched against the cold. Wally looked at her— her skin had a grayish cast to it and her lips were a dark shade of blue—and realized she was more vulnerable to the cold than he was, because his metabolism kept the extreme temperatures at bay. She was right: not only did they need to get to shore, they needed to get there fast.

I'm going to regret this later, he thought, steeling himself. "Okay," he said to her, "I have an idea. Come here." She swam closer, enough for him to reach her. Struggling to stay afloat, he had her hold on to his shoulders; then he wrapped one arm carefully around her waist and slid the other underneath her knees, so that if they were on solid ground he'd be carrying her. She was shaking so violently it was starting to scare him. "Hang on," he said. I hope this works.

Trying not to think about how much he was going to ache if they lived through this, he kicked against the water, pumping his legs as if he were running. Slowly at first (the water seemed to fight him), then picking up speed, they sliced through the water, propelled by Wally's half-swimming, half-running. The water around them was churned into white foam and they were rising as his speed escalated, until he was streaking along the surface, feet moving so fast they were nothing but a blur.

Half speed, he judged, dismayed, and I'm doing twice as much work as I'd have to on land just to get that much. We may not make it… If he ran himself dry before they got close to shore… It was this or give up and drown. He banished all thoughts and poured his whole being into his run.

He headed due west, towards the East Coast. Of more than that he couldn't be sure, but it would have to be good enough.

Artemis was holding on so tightly that he could feel the strain of her muscles. She had buried her face in his shoulder, and she was still shaking fiercely—with the cold, certainly, but he thought she could be crying too. Grieving. As he so desperately needed to.

But he couldn't, not yet. So he ran, pushing himself beyond his limits, faster, further, longer, until his strength ebbed dangerously, past the point at which he normally would have collapsed—and still he ran, until he could no longer feel his legs except to know they were still moving. He ran until, at long last, a mountain rose up out of the monotony of the sea, and the shore at its base. Just that far. Just that—

He couldn't make it. Without warning, the numbness that had claimed his legs spread through the rest of his body. He collapsed; momentum carried them forward a few more yards, then they were in the water. He was sinking like a stone, and the last thing he heard before his head slipped below the surface was Artemis's scream. Then silence enveloped him and a tide of blackness swept over his vision, and he knew no more.

Ah, cliffhangers! Gotta love 'em.