Dreaming.

I had to be dreaming.

Whatever that little wretch had drugged me with—that's the only reason that I'd ever imagine that my father would come to my rescue. I wonder who it actually was—Batman? Green Arrow? Who did I project my father's image onto?

Wally is at my bedside when I wake up. "Artemis!"

"Hey, you." I smile up at him. My mouth tastes like something crawled into it and died so I'm hoping he doesn't try to kiss me.

"I should have been there …" His eyes are red with tears and he's shaking like he does sometimes when he forgets to eat. I'm suddenly wondering if anyone had forced food on him since I'd been under—four hours without some kind of snack and he can be as shaky as a leaf.

"Wally, baby—we both know better than that. It wasn't you—it was him. Even you're not fast enough to be everywhere at once. It's over. Done with. You're not carrying the blame for this. I won't let you." I'm so tired. All I really want to do is go back to sleep. "We got him, right? Whoever it was that found me—they got him?"

"Yeah. About that—"

I open my eyes again. "Tell me he didn't get away."

"No. He's locked up. He's going to stay that way for a long long time."

I close my eyes again. "Who was it? Who saved me? Please tell me I didn't call Batman 'Daddy.' I'd never be able to live it down."

"It wasn't Batman."

"Green Arrow then?" Ollie would have come for me. It's not quite as bad if I called him "Daddy." Half the people who meet me think I'm his daughter anyway.

"No." Wally isn't looking at me. Oh my God. Just how badly did I embarrass myself? "Superman? Red Tornado? C'mon, Wal. Don't keep me in suspense!"

"Artemis, it was him."

"Him? Who do you—" I blink. "It was him? My father?"

"Yes."

"My father saved me?"

"Yes."

"My father." It doesn't process. It doesn't make sense. My father hates me. He's always hated me.

A faint memory of cotton candy and strong arms that hold me like they are going to never let me go—

"Where is he then? He probably just did it so he could throw it back in my face. Artemis the super hero needing to be bailed out by her daddy." I force myself to sit up. "He didn't even stick around to see how I'm doing, did he?"

"He's here."

Batman is standing in the doorway. His face is as unreadable as ever, but there's something about his voice—something I don't think I've ever heard before. "He's in ICU."

"Intensive care?" I swallow past a sudden lump in my throat. "How bad-?"

"You should be with your mother right now, Artemis. I've got a wheelchair for you." He pauses, seeing the look on my face. "You're fine, don't worry. The doctors just don't think you should be walking just yet."

"Let me help." Wally pulls back the sheets and helps me out of the bed and into the wheelchair.

I hate wheelchairs.

I've had nightmares about them ever since my mother got hurt—dreams about waking up trapped in one like she is—

"I'll push you." Batman offers.

"No!" I hug myself. "Wally. I want Wally."

Wally wraps his arms around me. "It's okay, baby. I'm here. I'm here. I'll take her there, Batman."

He looks at both of us and then nods his head slightly, his cape rippling with the motion, and steps aside.

Wally doesn't say anything as he wheels me along. It's scary at how good he's gotten at reading me. He knows when I need to talk—and when I don't.

This isn't—it can't—No.

He can't do this to me.

He can't make me hate him my entire life and then do this. He can't!

Mama is waiting for me at his bedside. " ."

"Mrs. Crock." His lips brush against my cheek. "I'll be right outside if you need me."

Mama is holding one of his hands.

He looks like hell.

He's a big man. He always seemed like a giant to me. I can remember quaking in his shadow … his hands seemed as big as my head. I can remember him making me practice my katas until it felt like my arms were going to fall off. I can remember him making me loose arrows until I thought my fingers were nothing but blisters. I can remember him making me fight Jade barehanded—not accepting my excuses when she constantly beat me due to her size, her strength, her experience.

Strong. Intimidating. Remorseless. That was my father.

And now … now he's so pale, so terribly pale.

"It is good that you are here now, Artemis." Mama has been crying? I can't remember the last time I saw her cry … "At the end."

The end?

No.

It can't be the end.

"Why, Mama?"

"Your father is just a man, Artemis. He has not lived a gentle life. His strength is fading at last."

"No." I close my eyes. "Why? Why would he save me?"

"You know the answer, Artemis."

"No. No I don't. He hates me. He's always hated me."

Mama says nothing.

"He never loved me. Never!"

Cotton candy. My father is buying me cotton candy and he's laughing. He's laughing and he's holding me and I feel safe …

"Never …"

No, not cotton candy. I'm drugged. I'm drugged and I'm cold and he's wrapping his shirt around me to keep me warm … and the shirt is sticky and hot with his blood …. But I'm safe because he's holding me …

"He n-never-"

He's telling me that I'm safe, that it's just a dream and that I'll be safe when I wake up …

"Never …"

And I can smell blood ... and his heartbeat … I'm snuggled against his chest and I can hear his heart beating slower and slower … weaker and weaker …

No.

I don't want—I can't—

No.

He's so pale … and the only reason he's breathing at all is that damn machine they have him on …

"No."

I'm weak.

I'm still half-drugged and weak, but I force the wheelchair closer to his bed. "No."

I force myself out of the chair and onto the side of his bed. "You can't do this to me."

His eyes are closed. He doesn't know I'm here.

"You can't do this to me. You can't do this—you can't save me and then die. Do you hear me, Daddy? You can't die and leave this unfinished! You can't leave me now! You can't!"

I'm crying.

I lay my head down on his shoulder. "You can't leave me now …"

A hand lays itself on the back of my head. It's a large hand, but it's so terribly weak …

And so is his voice …

"Artemis …"