Young Justice -:- Infection

Author's Note(s): HAPPY BOXING DAY! I hope you all had an awesome Christmas! Sorry for the lateness of this update, was having trouble logging on to the site :( Super thanks to prettykitty luvs u and RobintoNightwing for reviewing - though I'm afraid that character death warning is there for a reason...

But anywho! Here's the conclusion!

DAY THREE

02.00am – December 26th 2014
Seventeen Hours to Detonation

Artemis woke slowly, her body complaining from the mistreatment of being forced to sleep sitting up, her fingers cramped around something cold and metallic in her hands. She blinked a few times to get her sleep-filled eyes used to low light, before she realised where she was.

Instantly, she was on her guard. She forced her uncooperative feet to fold under her in a crouch, her arms held out straight before her as she held the gun in a two-handed grip. Her grey eyes settled on the only other occupant of the panic room, her senses on alert for any signs of attack.

She was afraid.

She was afraid of Dick Grayson. Nightwing – hero of Bludhaven, former Robin and her best friend of five years. They had been through so much together; they had seen each other at their best and worst. Never had she ever been afraid of him. But now as she crouched there in the darkness she could feel her hands shaking and the cold sweat beading on her forehead. Her breath came in short, quiet gasps; apprehension and anxiety driving her abused emotions over the edge.

He stirred slightly, and Artemis suddenly realised that he was watching her. She could just make out the glint of the red irises as they stared at her, a cold shiver running down her spine.

Why… why hadn't he attacked already? He had fully turned, Arty wasn't stupid or naïve enough to believe otherwise, but he had made no move against her. She had been asleep, defenceless… pathetically easy pickings for a creature of instinct. So why was she still breathing?

She shouldn't have allowed the hope to blossom in her chest. But she did. Cautiously, she crept a little closer to him, the gun lowering as she reached a hand out towards him. His eyes watched her warily, but he still didn't move. "Dick…? Dick… are you…?"

It happened so damn fast. One moment she was crouched before him, the next she was pinned under him, his claws digging deep into the soft flesh of her arms and his face mere inches away from her neck. Artemis let out a startled scream, and then brought her knee up into his gut and flipped him up and over her head. He landed hard enough to knock the air out of his lungs, but he was recovered and moving again in an instant.

Artemis grappled for the gun that she had dropped, but it was knocked even further out of her reach as he lunged at her and tackled her back down to the floor.

They had sparred together hundreds of times over the years. They were both excellent fighters. They were highly skilled, tactical thinkers that could analyse and take down practically any opponent with the right strategy. But strategy had absolutely nothing to with this fight. He was completely wild, his body vaguely recalling the moves but his virus addled brain unable to use them efficiently. And Artemis… well she was too busy panicking and trying desperately to stay alive to think of anything beyond the string of curse words currently parading through her brain.

She hit him with a roundhouse kick hard enough to daze him. He fell back against the wall for support, shaking his head like a dog that had just run into a glass door and couldn't figure out why it hurt. Artemis took the opportunity to get some distance between them. She cartwheeled back to where she had started, picking up the discarded gun and landing in a ready stance, her whole body shaking violently.

He seemed to recognise the weapon in her hand; at least enough to know that it was bad for him. He stayed against the wall and stared at her, like a lone wolf sensing a stronger predator. He growled threateningly, baring his fangs at her.

Tears began to well up in Artemis' eyes as she tried to strengthen her grip around the gun and still her shaking hands. He took a small step towards her, eliciting a strangled sob from the archer. "Please…" she whispered, even though she knew that it was useless. "Please, Dick… please don't make me do this…"

Something flickered across his red eyes, too quick for her to translate. And then he was launching at her; his claws outstretched to rip her to shreds and his mouth open in a feral snarl.

It was self-defence.

The gun exploded in her hands, the boom deafening and the recoil shocking her backwards against the brick wall. The air was full of red rain, the liquid feeling warm against her frozen skin.

He crumpled to the ground with a sickening thump, becoming completely still. Never to move again.

Artemis forgot how to breathe. She sagged against the wall, her legs no longer able to support her weight. When she finally released her breath, it came out as an agonised wail. Sobs of horror and guilt and pain wracked through her slight frame. Tears fell down her cheeks in thick rivers, mixing with the blood.

She watched as he gradually reverted back into Dick. The teeth and claws vanished with barely a trace, the red eyes fading back to a sightless blue. He lay there, staring up at the ceiling, blood pooling beneath his head.

Maybe half an hour later, Artemis found the strength to move. She crawled over to him like a small child who yet to learn to walk and knelt by his side. She gently closed his eyes and then leaned down to press a kiss against his cool cheek. "Shhhh…" she murmured as she combed her fingers through his messy hair. "It's-s over, D-Dick… you can rest-t n-now."

Slowly, she lowered herself down so that she was laying by his side and rested her head against his shoulder as she had every time the nightmares had haunted her. She closed her eyes as she remembered the gentle rise and fall of his chest and subtle thumping of his heartbeat that she had listened to until she had fallen asleep.

But her imagination couldn't make up for the terrible silence that really met her as she rested against his cooling corpse.

06.00am
Thirteen Hours to Detonation

Jason watched the sun rise over the last day of Gotham City from his perch on the roof of one of his safe houses. He had finally obeyed that gut instinct of his to run away from difficult situations, and after visiting Dick a few hours ago he had found himself walking aimlessly through the streets.

As the midnight blue began to bleed into a burnt orange, Jason had climbed the building's fire escape and found himself enthralled by the winter sun. He didn't know whether to be sad or elated that this was the final day of his home town. He wasn't sentimental by nature, but as he stared at the once bustling city he couldn't help the memories that assaulted him.

He could see the clock tower in Old Gotham where Dick had taken him on his first night as Robin. Jason had ignored his lecture about instincts or whatever and had quickly zip-lined away to find his first fight as a vigilante. He never had been very good at taking advice. Maybe if he had listened to Dick that night things could have been different. Maybe he wouldn't have died.

Barely visible through the morning fog, Jason could vaguely see the slums of Crime Alley where he had spent his less-than-stellar childhood. He wouldn't be sad to see that go, he figured.

But there was still something about the city that he knew he would miss. The place had that kind of aura about it, as if it had seen every horror possible and yet defiantly stood tall. In less than thirteen hours, it wouldn't be standing at all, and yet there was still something so stubborn about it.

Jason shook his head, wondering where the weird thoughts had come from. He wasn't one to stop and take stock of the things around him. He didn't get attached to things, or people. He was a survivor – even death had only been a temporary setback for him.

Speaking of surviving, it was time to get moving. He hitched a backpack full of supplies onto his shoulders and then began the short trek back to Wayne Towers. He didn't particularly want to go back and face the music. It would be over by now, he knew, but emotions would be running high. He didn't deal over well with feelings. Especially women and feelings.

He snuck through the barricades and defences that protected the sky-cave from the Infected and then walked through the empty lobby. He remembered the first time that Bruce had taken him to Wayne Towers. He had been silently impressed by all the grandeur and the respect all of the employees seemed to have for his new guardian, though he had outwardly been a moody teenager the entire visit. As Jason stepped into the elevator, a small smile graced his lips as he recalled the irritated look Bruce had continually sent his way that day. It had always been so fun to tick the Bat off.

When he stepped out of the elevator, he heard the sobbing immediately and cringed. Taking a deep breath to ready himself, Jason walked towards the room that had become Barbara's tech-pad, and instantly knew that he was way out of his depth.

The place was a complete mess, as if a mini-tornado had whipped through and destroyed everything. The network of computers were smashed and useless. The extensive chemistry set had become a colourful stain on the carpet. Papers were scattered everywhere. And lying on the floor in the middle of it all was Barbara Gordon.

Her chair was upended, one of the wheels knocked out of kilter and squeaking as momentum kept it turning. A good few metres away from it, Babs lay amongst the broken glass, ignoring the small cuts that nicked her body as she wept against her folded arms. Jason hesitated for a moment, having absolutely no idea what to do. He dropped his bag on the floor with a loud thump, but she gave no move to indicate that she was even aware that he was there. He took a few cautious steps towards her, his boots crunching in the debris, and then he knelt down beside her.

"Barbara…?" Jason said quietly as he reached a hand towards her shaking shoulders. He pulled back at the last moment, not knowing if he should touch her. What the hell was he supposed to do? "Babs…?"

Slowly, Babs turned her head so that she could look up at him. She took in his blue eyes and dark hair, probably noting how similar he and Dick looked despite all their differences. And then she wrapped her arms around his neck, her cheek pressed against his shoulder as fresh tears dripped onto the leather of his jacket. Jason froze for a moment, taken completely by surprise and feeling ever-so-slightly awkward. But then some inner voice told him to hug her back, and he gently held her quivering form.

It oddly felt… right?

"He's… gone," Barbara sniffed between sobs, and Jason felt his own sadness threaten to overwhelm him. There was something just so final about the way she had said it, and it began to sink in for him that Dick Grayson was really dead. "I… heard the… shot… He's…"

"Shhh…"Jason hushed, his hand seemingly moving on its own to reach up and stroke her hair. He didn't really do physical contact, and he definitely wasn't one for giving comfort, and yet somehow his body seemed to know what to do.

They stayed like that for a while; the pair of them rocking gently on the floor until eventually the tears stopped falling. And then Jason scooped her up and into his arms and placed her into a normal chair that had somehow survived the carnage around them. He knelt down before her and used his thumbs to brush the tears from her cheeks, having no idea that that was exactly what Dick had done for her the day before. She looked down at him as if only just seeing him for the first time, staring into his blue eyes until he felt uncomfortable and had to look away.

"What… what are we going to do now…?" she asked after a moment, her voice sounding thick with sorrow and defeat. "Without…"

"We'll survive," Jason replied, making Babs give him a strange look. "We stick to the plan, even without… You know that he'd never forgive us if we just quit now. You're stronger than you think, Babs. We can do this."

Barbara swallowed the lump in her throat. "You… you sound just like him…" she whispered, making Jason blink in surprise. That was something that he had never been accused of before. Dick had always had a way with words, somehow always knowing the right thing to say – which was the polar opposite of Jason. He had a tendency to just stick his foot in it. And yet, for some reason, right then, he knew what to say. "You really think that we can?"

"I know we can," Jason said with a small smile, knowing that the words were true, not just an empty promise. "So… you ready to blow this dump?"

Babs nodded, and then remembered her slightly destroyed wheelchair. "Umm…"

"Don't worry," Jason cut her off before she could ask, and the stood up and retrieved something from the cupboard in the corner. It was a harness cobbled together from several belts and straps so that Jason could carry Barbara on his back and still keep his hands free. "It's not the most dignified form of transportation, but it will do in a pinch. Dick always did think of everything."

Babs studied the harness that Jason handed to her, and then looked up at him with a guilty expression. "Are you… are you sure about this? I don't want to weigh you down…"

"And I don't want Dick to haunt my ass for the rest of my life because I left you behind," Jason retorted with a smirk, making Babs give a small snort of laughter at the thought. They both knew that Dick would find a way to make them pay if they dared to do anything so stupid. Jason grabbed up his abandoned backpack and began emptying the supplies onto Babs' cleared desk. "Now, do you want to help me make some bombs?"

"Absolutely," Babs replied as Jason scooted her chair up to the desk so that she could reach. And then they spent the next couple of hours building the explosives they would need to blow the Novick tunnel and get the hell out of dodge before the bombs rained down on Gotham.

They worked in silence, both of them lost in their own thoughts as they tried to keep themselves focused on the task at hand. They tried not to think of those that would not be seeing the uninfected world ever again, but as they sat there, they couldn't help but recall their lost friends. First Tim, then Bruce and Selina… Wally and… Dick. It was hard not to imagine how different this day would be if they were all still alive. How different the last Christmas of Gotham could have been.

At about eleven o'clock, half an hour before they were scheduled to meet up with the other refugees, Artemis finally appeared.

She looked terrible. Her hair was messily drawn back into its usual ponytail, and her bow and quiver rested over her army jacket. But it did nothing to cover the bloodstains on her shirt. Dick's blood. She was covered in it, the dried dark patches stark against the dirty white fabric. It was still on her hands. But she gave no indication that she even realised it was there. Her cold, grey eyes were dry and her lips were set in a thin line of grim determination. No one in their right mind would try and take her on right now.

She took one look at the two of them and the bombs that they were packing away and asked, "Are you ready to do this?"

The last three heroes of Gotham were about to take their final stand.

13.00pm
Six Hours to Detonation

The battle for Novick Tunnel was a bloody affair.

It started off well enough. One hundred and sixty-three uninfected citizens of Gotham took to the streets as one, marching with purpose and caution towards their salvation. Over half of them were armed with whatever weapons they could get their hands on – some of the makeshift soldiers were just children… but no one argued, no one said a word. It was all hands on deck.

When they reached the tunnel, everyone knew what they were doing – Dick had made sure of that. The non-fighters took shelter behind the concrete blockade that divided the two lanes of traffic through the tunnel, while anyone with a weapon created a horseshoe-shaped defensive line around the entrance. The handful of explosives experts that they had found took the supplies from Artemis and quickly set to work.

The winter afternoon was quiet, a cold breeze blowing in from the river and chilling the survivors as they stood on alert for any sign of the Infected.

With Barbara on his back, Artemis had insisted that he stay back and protect the people working on the tunnel. He had begrudgingly agreed, and Babs had whispered an apology in his ear. As he stood at the foot of the rubble landslide that blocked their escape, Jason watched Artemis take the front and centre of the defensive line, her bow held ready. Sensibly, no one had commented on her blood-stained appearance. Anyone could sense the foul mood radiating from the archer.

And then they heard Them.

How the Infected knew where they were, no one really knew. Maybe they really were getting smart that Dick had thought, sending scouts to secretly follow them. Or maybe they could just sense the largest concentration of fresh food that they had seen in a long time. Whatever it was, they were coming.

All of Them.

Artemis stood tall and glared straight ahead, as if daring the Infected to come and get her. "This is it," she announced, her voice carrying easily amongst the survivors without her really raising her voice. "This is the last stand of Gotham. No matter what happens next, know that you are fighting to save what is left of our city."

She glanced around, meeting every fighter in the eye. "Remember, if you get bitten, you stay behind. This is non-negotiable. Absolutely no Infected will leave this city. Understood?"

Jason was beginning to think that Artemis had missed her calling as an Army General or something. She was cold, firm and demanding, and yet she commanded the respect of every single person gathered there behind her.

Within a minute, the horde was upon them. They snarled and growled and clawed at the fighters, but the Gothamites retaliated with feral attacks of their own. Some people fought from a distance, holding the final line as they picked off the Infected with hails of burning lead. The front line fighters shouted defiantly as they battled with knifes and baseball bats and hockey sticks. Some of them had even fashioned themselves muskets, sharp blades duct taped to the end of their rifles.

"I can't stand here and do nothing," Jason hissed, his hands curling around his twin handguns as he watched two of the fighters go down under the Infected onslaught.

"Then let's do something," Babs replied, unholstering her own gun. Jason gave her a sideways look, her face very close to his from where she was strapped to his back. She had never been a fan of firearms before the Outbreak, but he knew that she had been learning to shoot while she was holed up Wayne Towers – he had even given her a few pointers. "Get to high ground."

Jason did as he was told, and climbed up the concrete blockade, barely hindered by Barbara's additional weight at all. And then the two of them started shooting, strafing a line of destruction through the Infected ranks.

As Artemis fought, her anger and pain took control. She slashed mercilessly through the horde, every arrow that left her bow and every slice of her knife trying to somehow chip away at the rage and guilt inside her heart. She was unfocused, which some small part of her knew was a bad thing, but she was somewhat making up for it with her brutality and unpredictability. That was until she got too caught up with beating the life out of an Infected man and was completely blind to the one sneaking up behind her.

She felt a ripple in the air, her instincts warning her at the very last moment and making her whirl around in an attempt to defend herself. She would have been too late. She would have had a pair of wicked fangs bone deep in her wrist. She would have stayed and burned in Gotham City, if it were not for the man who put himself in the way.

She didn't know who he was, but she recognised him from one of the safe houses. She knew that he and Dick got along pretty well – they had gone to school together or something. But Artemis didn't know him, and she didn't understand why this stranger would use his own body to shield her. The Infected man's fang sank deep into his shoulder.

The two of them worked together to kill the Infected man, and then they both paused in the middle of the battle to look at each other. "What happened to Grayson?" he asked, completely ignoring the bleeding wound.

"He got bit," Artemis replied succinctly, not trusting herself to explain further without the dam that was holding back her emotions breaking open.

The man nodded. "I guess that makes two of us."

They shared a look, the two of them communicating so much in that millisecond that they didn't need any more words. And then they fought back to back, both of them tearing through the Infected with ruthless determination.

"FIRE IN THE HOLE!" someone shouted, and Jason quickly jumped down behind the blockade with the non-fighters to protect Babs. The explosion shook the ground and blasted debris into the air. The force of the shockwave knocked some of the fighters and a good few of the Infected off of their feet, but everyone was up and moving again in an instant.

Jason climbed back up and surveyed the handiwork of the demolition experts. They hadn't cleared the entrance completely, but they had blown a good size hole out of the top. A short climb up the mountain of rubble and freedom was in sight. "Start rigging the other side!" Jason ordered, and the workers quickly scrabbled up the debris and vanished inside. He then turned to look down at the non-fighters who were staring at him expectantly. "It's time to get out of here people! Come on, move!"

Immediately a flood of people began clambering over the concrete blockade, the small children scaling the structure like monkeys while the older kids helped the elderly. They ran up the mountain of rubble and ducked through the hole, all of them disappearing into the tunnel faster than should have been possible.

Jason slipped down last, and stood at the base of the tunnel entrance. "Pull back!" he yelled at the fighters, who quickly followed his orders and began to retreat. What remained of the horseshoe-shaped defensive line shrunk down as their numbers thinned down. Seventeen of the fighters made no move to leave, and Jason realised that they had been bitten. They would hold off the Infected long enough for everyone else to escape.

"It's ready to go!" one of the explosive experts yelled down through the hole, and Jason did a quick sweep to make sure no one was going to be left behind who didn't have to. And then Babs pointed to Artemis who was still battling as if she hadn't even heard the order to pull back.

"Arty!" Jason shouted. He knew that she hadn't been bitten. He had been watching as he had been forced to fight from a distance. But it was almost as if the archer wanted to stay and fight until the last. But that was something that Jason knew Dick would never allow. "Arty! Come on, we gotta go!"

The man that had saved her life seized Artemis by the arm and shoved her back towards Jason. The ex-Robin grabbed the archer and held her back as she attempted to jump right back into the fight. But Jason wouldn't let her go and dragged her up the rubble, having to bend awkwardly at the top in order to get all three of them through.

They skidded down the other side and made it a safe distance away. "Blow it!" Jason ordered, and a moment later the sunlight was blocked out as the doorway to Gotham was closed for the final time.

Flashlights illuminated the dusty and bloody faces of the survivors as they waited for their next orders. Jason found it odd how they all automatically looked to the three teenagers. He had never even worked with them like Dick and Artemis had – he had been all for his own survival the past year. And yet, as he stood there before them, he kinda got why the two heroes had fought so damn hard to protect them.

Artemis stepped forward, the crowd of people parting like the red sea in order to let them pass. Jason wondered if they knew that they were in the presence of an ex-Robin, Batgirl and Artemis, though he doubted those old identities meant a whole lot to anyone anymore. Heroes didn't need to wear masks and capes in a city on the verge of collapse. The people recognised their saviours – ordinary people who had stepped up when no one else would. It… it felt good to know that he had played a part in their survival.

The three of them led the charge back to civilisation, the hundred and fifty-odd survivors of Gotham City following behind them. They paraded through the tunnel, every step taking them a little closer to freedom.

After the darkness of the tunnel, the setting sun that greeted them on the other side was painfully bright. They stepped out into the free air, enjoying it for but a moment before reality came crashing down around them.

Barricades were lined up in a semicircle around the tunnel entrance, a sea of armed police officers and soldiers aiming hundreds of gun barrels in their direction. Helicopters flew in formations overhead, snipers ready to take them out. A man with a bullhorn yelled for them to stop advancing, his panic and fear audible even through the static. Artemis came to a stop and raised her hands above her head, every single person that followed behind her copying her.

This was it. This was the moment that they were either killed on the spot, or welcomed with open arms. It was out of their hands now. It was down to fate, and the words of the Big Blue Boy Scout that descended from the sky.

The entire Justice League followed behind Superman, several members of the young justice team dotted among them as well. They settled on the ground in a line between the refugees and the soldiers, creating a buffer.

Jason had no idea what Supey said next, but he knew for sure that this nightmare was finally over.

19.00pm
The End of Gotham City

Somehow, Superman had gotten through to the people. The refugees of Gotham City were allowed to live. Tents were erected in less than ten minutes in order to process the survivors. They were allowed in one by one while men with guns glared at them threateningly until they were cleared. All one hundred and forty-six people were confirmed to be uninfected and welcomed back into the general populace.

Artemis had wandered away from the crowd and found herself a place to watch the fireworks from the river bank. She stood there, alone, in the chilling wind as she stared at the tall towers of the city for the very last time.

And then she heard the hum aeroplane engines in the air. She heard the whistles of multiple bombs being dropped. She felt the shockwave of hot air and dust even across the water as the city vanished in a fireball of destruction. She could hear the screams of the Infected as they burned.

She stared at the flames, oblivious to the tears that rolled down her cheeks and cut rivulets through the grime. She imagined Dick where she had left him in the panic room of Wayne Towers, a sheet covering his cold corpse. Now he was being cremated – finally put to rest after nearly of year of constant suffering and heartaches.

She couldn't help but feel a little jealous of him, even as the guilt threatened to overwhelm her. For him it was over. Truly over. While she was left behind to deal with the fallout.

She wasn't sure that she could handle it.

"Artemis…?" a voice called hesitantly behind her, a voice that the archer hadn't heard in such a long time that it made her heart ache. She turned her head slightly to invite the green-skinned Martian over to her perch and watch the thick clouds of black smoke billow into the evening sky. They stood in silence for a good five minutes, neither of them really knowing what to say.

What was there to say?

M'gann dragged her eyes away from the destruction and turned her back on the city so that she could focus all of her attention on the girl she had quickly come to think of as her sister. She reached out and pulled open Artemis' jacket, taking in the blood stains and confirming that they weren't hers. Quietly, the Martian asked "What happened to Dick?"

She had been told about the others. She had heard the horror stories that were the last moments of the third Robin, Batman, Catwoman and Kid Flash. But from the last communication they had received through the blackout, Nightwing had not been among the casualties.

"I killed him," Artemis murmured, making M'gann's eyes widen. "We were so close. We were so close to all being free. But then he got bitten. We… we tried to come up with a cure… like always. I… should have known. I shouldn't have put him through that. I should have made it quick for him. He deserved that."

M'gann studied her best friend, shocked by how much she had changed in the past year. Artemis was cold and hardened by her experiences on the outside, but past that exterior, M'gann could see just how shattered she was within. She couldn't imagine the hell that Artemis had been through, no one could unless they had lived through it themselves, but M'gann could feel the waves of regret and anguish radiating from her honorary sister.

"I wanted to stay behind," Artemis muttered suddenly, breaking the terrible silence. "I should be over there amongst the flames. It should be over for me too. I just want it to be over."

"Artemis…" M'gann whispered on the verge of tears. "Please don't say that."

"Why not?" Artemis asked with a callous shrug. "It's true. Wally… Dick… their blood is on my hands, literally. I don't know how to deal with that out here. It's not about survival anymore. I'm… I'm a murderer, M'gann, not a hero. How do I deal with that? How can I just forget what I've done?"

M'gann gave her head a small shake in disbelief, and then she grabbed Artemis by the shoulders and shook her. "If they could hear you now, Arty! After everything you all went through – after all the sacrifice and pain to get you here, now, free at last – are you really going to stand there and tell me that you've given up? Are you going to throw it all back at them, just like that?"

"You don't understand," Artemis snapped, ripping herself out of the Martian's grip and staggering backwards. "You don't know how many lives I've taken! You don't know what I've had to do!"

"Exactly, Arty. What you had to do," M'gann said forcefully. "In order to survive. And you did it. You walked out of that hell because you did what you had to do. Do you really want all that to be for nothing?"

The two girls glared at each other for nearly a full minute, the city burning in the background. From the impromptu camp that had been setup the sounds of a celebration reached them. The refugees of Gotham were dancing and smiling for the first time since the Outbreak. The fact that there were even survivors to celebrate was because of her, Jason, Barbara and… Dick. They had done something good. Amongst all the bad stuff, all the horror and loss and destruction… there was still something to celebrate at the end of the day.

M'gann reached for Artemis' hand and held it, making the taller blonde meet her eyes. "If Dick were here; what would he say to you right now?"

"Get traught."

M'gann smiled sadly. "Get traught," she echoed. "I'm not going to tell you that the pain is going to go away, Arty, but it will get easier. We'll never forget what's happened and the people that we've lost. We're not going to quit either. So get yourself together, and let's keep walking together."

Artemis studied M'gann for a moment, and then pulled her into a tight hug – clinging onto her new lifeline as if afraid to let go.

One hell was over. And now Artemis was beginning to think that she might just survived the next one as well.

I have come to the conclusion that my regular muse has been kidnapped and replaced with a super villain. That is the only viable reason for this fic becoming so unbelievably depressing! I am going to trade her in for a new one before I write anymore!

This is officially the first and only time that I have ever written a for real character death – and after the response I got for almost killing Dick a couple of times in Identity… maybe I should find somewhere to hide for a while…

I hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas, despite my evil muse's attempts to do otherwise…

Thanks to everyone who has read/reviewed/favourited and/or followed – you guys are absolutely amazing and make writing that much more fun! And to those leaving a comment in future – thank you in advance!

Manic x