Do I own YJ? I do not.
Artemis spent her free period doing a little exploring. She'd started out in the outer courtyard that she was familiar with from her nighttime trip that had resulted in Batman and Green Arrow in her living room and went from there. She ducked into the gym to avoid a cluster of giggling girls and was somewhat peeved to note that, despite the short period of time since Amazo's rampage it had already been completely rebuilt, bigger and better than before.
Feeling a little bitter, she wandered until she found herself walking around the edge of another courtyard, this one primarily inhabited by what looked to be middle schoolers. She ducked behind a convenient bush in the corner to catch a moment and try and figure out where she was and how to get back to the high school.
"Well excuse you."
She startled and almost fell back out onto the grass. Green eyes glared at her from a small face that, despite its young age, had only a few traces of baby fat left. A common enough sight in The Alley, but out of place here. The boy's uniform was somehow crisp and clean, despite the fact that he was crouching behind a bush. He blew smoke in her face and Artemis nearly choked on the familiar stench of cigarettes before he dropped his still smoldering contraband and ground it into the mulch beneath his expensive leather shoe.
"This space is occupied." He smirked at her, tucking a half-full pack of cigarettes away into a hollow behind a loose brick in the wall. "And aren't you a little old to be over here?"
Artemis flushed and barely managed to keep from tugging her skirt hem down, which was fast becoming a nervous tic. "Got lost, genius. I'm new." She cringed internally at how out of place her speech sounded here, the sharp, quick, Gotham street inflections making her stand out no matter how well she cleaned up.
The boy had caught it too, if the slow grin spreading across his face was any indication. He leaned casually against the wall behind them, looking her up and down in a way that, on the streets, would have gotten him a bloody nose if he was lucky. Here in this terrifying new world that she found herself in it just made her feel as if she was the one looking up at him, not the other way 'round.
"Y'mus be Art'mis Crock."
She blinked. She was not expecting that at all. And his voice...she squinted at him suspiciously. No way he'd gone from talking in the same bland accent as any of the other rich kids here to the very thickest of street-brogues, far stronger than hers, in less than two words.
The grin grew wider and he winked at her, sticking his hands in his pockets. "You're new," he began, his speech settling in between the two extremes, though closer to the polished version than otherwise, "obviously not from society, and," he shrugged, somewhat apologetically, "You aren't white. Not all white anyway. There's only a handful of new Wayne Foundation kids here this year and the only Asian high school girl is Artemis Crock. Therefore, you are Artemis Crock."
"How do you know all that?" Artemis asked warily. The boy smiled sheepishly and held out his right hand.
"Jason Todd, nice to meet you." She shook his hand numbly, still confused. "Properly, I guess I'm Jason Todd-Wayne, but Cass and I tend to just go by our old last names." He wrinkled his nose, which made him look even younger and, honestly, adorable. "The hyphenation sounds kinda pretentious. All the teachers here use it and it gets old fast."
Wayne. As in, Wayne Foundation. Wayne Scholarship. Bruce Freaking Wayne the richest man in Gotham. She vaguely knew that Bruce Wayne had adopted a kid or two, or maybe more. She really hadn't paid very close attention to the tabloids. She might need to though, if she was going to this dumb school.
The bell buzzed, signaling the end of the hour and the boy, Jason, gathered up his expensive leather messenger bag and pointed back the way she had come. "Go down that hall until you get to the three-way. Then take a left and it'll get you back to the high school."
Before she could say anything he took off across the grass and she decided she should get back before she was late to her next class.
"Oh! And Crock!" She turned around. "It gets better. It really does."
And he disappeared down a corridor between buildings.
One of the requirements for her scholarship was that she be involved in at least one extra-curricular activity, so Artemis found herself staying after classes were over. Of her options, she had decided that the "Current Events and International Relations Club" looked the least painful, so she spent an hour sitting in the back of the room as a blonde, chalk-pale senior named Marie Kane explained "goals for the year" and introduced the contenders for the positions as club officers. Artemis took one of the ballots and scanned it as she headed towards the front doors. Other than Tiffany Fox, a senior she'd met at lunch and who had saved her from the awkwardness of trying to figure out where to sit, she didn't know any of the names outside of recognizing some of the surnames from various news and tabloid events.
She hopped down the outside stairs and began walking. Her bus stop was a good few blocks away and from there it would take her about an hour to get home. If she was lucky, she'd be able to sit in the back of the bus and get some homework done. If she was extremely lucky, she wouldn't even have to pull her knife out of her bag.
"Hey, Crock!"
She startled and turned. Jason was running up behind her and skidded to a halt, not even breathing hard. "Want a lift?"
"What?"
He rolled his eyes at her and jerked a thumb back over his shoulder towards a limo where an old man in an honest-to-God chauffeur uniform was holding the door open for what seemed like a crowd of children. "You. Car. Ride home. Not get shived on bus for shoes."
"Uh...no. I'm good...thanks...I can just-"
He lost patience with her stammering, grabbed her wrist and began dragging her towards the limo. "Come on. Alfred doesn't like it when we dawdle."
Before Artemis could pull herself together enough to say anything coherent he was pushing her past the chauffeur who merely greeted her with a serene "Good afternoon, Miss Crock" and into the limo. She found herself sliding onto a seat of slick leather across from the midget freshman who had snapped a selfie with her that morning. His carefully slicked back hair now looked as if someone had ruffled it and his uniform jacket was crumpled and tossed over the seat behind him, his tie and book bag piled haphazardly on the carpet by where his feet should have been, if he hadn't been sitting cross-legged.
His head was bent over a fancy WayneTech tablet, side by side with an older red-haired girl, the two of them debating something on the screen in low tones. Neither of them looked up. Next to the boy a toddler in a miniature uniform and perched in a Batman-themed booster seat as if it were a temporary indignity he would overcome scowled at Artemis. The other seats on Artemis' side were occupied by two little girls, one a familiar looking blonde and one Chinese, on either side of a tiny boy, also in a booster seat.
"Hey!" Jason said as he hopped in behind her, the old man closing the door. "This is Artemis. She'll ride with us now."
The youngest boy (four maybe five) frowned harder in a way that set Artemis' neck hairs on end.
"Hi!" The blonde girl chirped up at her with wide blue eyes. "I'm Stephanie. This is TimmynCass." The Chinese girl and little boy waved and nodded shyly. "The little one is Damian and then BabsnDick."
The red-head looked up and smiled. "Hi Artemis. It's nice to meet you." She looked about Artemis' age and had a general air of "good girl" that reminded Artemis of M'gann.
"Dick? Really?"
The kid finally deigned to acknowledge her and flashed a grin that had Artemis almost wanting to smile back. "Yup. Why?"
His grin turned cheeky and the red-head, Barbara, smacked his shoulder. "Be nice, Dick."
The littlest boy switched his glare to Barbara. Everyone ignored him.
There were a few awkward minutes of riding in semi-silence as the younger girls giggled to each other before they came to a stop outside a police precinct. Before Artemis had time to do more than instinctively panic Barbara had gathered up her own bag and hopped out with a "See you later guys. Thank you Mr. Alfred!" and dashed up the front steps into the station. Jason hopped over so he was sitting across from Artemis and hurriedly buckled himself back up before the limo pulled back out into traffic.
"So, Artemis." He smirked at her and Artemis was reminded of another green-eyed freckled face she dearly wanted to punch in. "What do you like to do for fun?"
"What?"
"I mean," Jason said, practically oozing mischievous innocence as he blinked at her. "Dickie here is a math dweeb, Timmy takes pictures, Cassie does ballet. What do you do?"
"Uh..." Artemis tried to keep her sudden panic from showing.
Cass/Cassie leaned over and threw a pencil that hit Jason right between the eyes and he gave her a wounded look. "Be nice." She said firmly.
Jason pouted but heaved a dramatic sigh. "I apologize, Miss Crock, for prying into your affairs," he droned.
Stephanie giggled and shyly reached out to touch the ends of Artemis' hair. "I like your hair." She said. "It's so pretty." She shook her own blonde bob self-consciously. "I wish mine was that long."
"No you don't." Artemis said, almost automatically. "It's really hard to take care of. It's kinda wild." She cautiously touched a few silken strands. "But your hair might actually behave, even if it was really long, it's so soft."
Stephanie was practically petting her ponytail, her forehead furrowing in concentration as she finger-combed the ends.
"Oh look!" Jason said, tinged with the slight panic that Artemis had heard in the voices of every male ever caught in girl talk. "It's your stop!"
Artemis practically bolted out of limo and was surprised when Stephanie followed her, latching onto her hand and tugging her in the direction of the apartment.
"Thanks!" she yelled over her shoulder and kept pulling Artemis down the sidewalk.
"You? Wait? What?" Artemis was starting to sound like a broken record.
Stephanie stopped pulling but didn't let go of her hand, looking up at her through lashes so blonde they were barely visible. "You live in the apartment above mine. My mom and I moved in last year after my Dad lost his job."
"Your Dad-"
"Cluemaster." Stephanie said quietly, her grasp on Artemis' hand tightening even as she looked away to stare at the cracked pavement beneath their feet. "He's in Blackgate now. It's just my Mom and me. That's how I got the scholarship. Dad and the Riddler don't get along so good and Batman sent Black Bat to check on my Mom and me when he broke out of Arkham once. They got my Mom a job at one of the Wayne clinics, she's a nurse, and I go to the Academy now."
"Oh." Artemis said, not knowing what else she could say.
Stephanie shrugged and started swinging their hands. "Can I stay with you for a few hours. Mom doesn't get home until eight and it's lonely." She looks back up at Artemis. "Can I braid your hair?"
Jason nearly trips over Ace as he bursts into the Cave to be greeted by Leslie's pinched, angry expression that he associated with occasions like his first checkup after Bruce took him in, or the time Dick had been kidnapped from a Wayne Enterprises event and beaten half to death.
"You are most certainly not fine." She says sharply, placing an oxygen mask over Dick's face. "You were drowned and then suffocated." She snaps her gloves off and points imperiously at Dick, who is lying on the reclining hospital bed in the Caves med bay, Damian curled up by his side. Behind the oxygen mask, Dick's blue eyes are sparking with a dazed anger. He jabs his thumb into his faded Haly' Circus t-shirt, other fingers spread.
Jason rolls his eyes and pulling Tim, hops up next to Cass, who is perched on one of the cots, watching from around Alfred as he helps Leslie. Bruce is nowhere to be seen.
"What happened?" Timmy asks in a small voice and Dick is off in a flurry of slurred Sign that Jason , who is competent if not nearly as fluent as Dick and Cass, can understand barely any of.
"Maybe try that again after you've been oxygenated, Dickie." He chuckled.
Dick's muddled expression darkened into fury and he makes to rip the oxygen mask off only to be stopped by Damian of all people, who shoved a chubby fist over Dick's face with one of his Baby-Bat-glares.
Dick looks betrayed and Leslie smirks triumphantly. Oh, she is sneaky.
Alfred clears his throat. "It appears that Red Tornado turned upon the Team, assisted by two other androids of similar origin who attacked them in Mt. Justice."
Timmy looks conflicted and Jason feels Cassandra tense beside him.
"Is everyone okay?" He asks past his suddenly dry throat, his mind racing through the implications. Tornado was a member of the JSA and an integral, though not founding member oft he JLA. There is very little he has not had access to.
"All of the children are well," Alfred reports, "if not a bit shaken. I believe they all went home to their mentors and families."
"What about Superboy?" Timmy asks.
"Flash." Dick signs, slightly more intelligible now. He still looks exhausted but the oxygen is obviously helping. "Black Canary take-home after debrief finished."
Alfred frowns. "Is that wise? I do not doubt that Ms. Lance cares for young Superboy but I am sure she is quite shaken as well. She has known Red Tornado since she was only a child herself."
Leslie scowls as she begins packing up. "Honestly, I'm concerned about the psychological effect this will have on you and your team." she tells Dick. Leslie is awesome like that, she doesn't talk over you like you are an idiot. "Being attacked in your own base will wreak havoc on your mental security." she sniffs. "Why on earth would they put you in the mountain in the first place. It has been compromised for years." her final muttered comment is ignored by Dick, who struggles to sit fully upright, the emotion in his eyes burning through the fogginess.
"Not scared." He signs, the movements sharp and short, jolting Damian as he watches, uncomprehending and irritated because of it. "Angry."
And he is, Jason can tell. Despite his shakiness and general air of totally-out-of-it-and-about-to-fall-over he is also tense and ready.
Jason shivers. There is something frightening about Dick when he gets like this. When the smiles and warmth are replaced with a far too Bruce-like laser focus behind a cold, emotionless front. It is wrong. The way a speedster not being hungry, or Alfred burning cookies is wrong.
Leslie purses her lips but says nothing. She doesn't have to. Jason's been the target of the "using anger to cover other emotions" talk many times before. He wishes desperately for a cigarette but doesn't dare try and slip out now.
He has a right to be angry. There is a lot to be angry about in the world.
Leslie nudges Dick to lie back down properly and Damian hesitates before gingerly scooting back beside the older boy's hip, watching Dick with wide eyes.
He's never seen this side of "His Gwayson" before, Jason realizes. For so many months now Dick has been an anomaly in his world, completely different from anything he experienced before with the Shadows. Seeing Dick like this has broken a part of that. Dick seems to realize it too thorough the haze and the tension disappears as if it had never existed and he droops back against the pillows and sluggishly rests a hand on the sheets, not quite touching Damian's hair, as the other reaches up to pull the mask from his face.
"Hey, Lil' D. I'm alright."
Beside Jason, Timmy winces at the rasp of Dick's voice. Damian looks up at Dick, wrinkles on his little baby forehead, his steel-blue eyes frowning in concentration as he assesses. Whatever he sees in Dick's face reassures him enough that he relaxes and honest-to-God snuggles in closer. Cass slips off the cot and tugs Jason and Timmy after her until they are all huddled up in one pile on the bed, carefully not disturbing the oxygen or any of the many wireless monitors currently attached to their eldest brother. Ace jumps and curls up on Dick's feet. Timmy fidgets some where he is sandwiched in between Jason and Dick and Cass reaches across Damian and Dick from the other side of the bed.
"Shush. Still now. Cuddle time. Family." Jason groans internally. He is outnumbered by the cuddlers.
Timmy does still, probably as much in awe at being included in the family as in compliance with Cass' command.
He exchanges glances with his sister over the bodies of their brothers before Dick gets their attention with a grin beneath the restored oxygen mask, the combined effects of oxygen deprivation, relaxation brought on by cuddles, and the sedative that Alfred or Leslie had to have slipped him at some point before they had stepped out had him growing steadily more droopy. The angry spark in his eyes has melted away into something a lot less focused.
Dick-face waved at Cass and his loopy grin widened.
"Cuddles same-as family." He signed sloppily at Jason. "I win."
Jason's reply was not in ASL but the gesture made his feelings very clear nonetheless.