Words: 1,096
Characters: Wally, Zatanna, mentions of Artemis
Notes: The Young Justice Headcanons Tumblr was holding a Canadian Thanksgiving Fanfiction challenge and with everything going on right now (Darkest, classes, the changing weather - bon voyage, Summer - and no sign of my darn OTP), I forced myself to finally write something I could post. I didn't write this for the challenge. I wrote this for Wally and Zatanna.
comfort, #78
It's apple pie that reminds him what day it is.
A stupid seasonal dessert sitting at the top of their mostly empty refrigerator is what helps link his mind to the fact that today is Halloween, a holiday that just so happens to be one of Artemis's favourites. So he's sitting there at the dining table at seven in the morning, the eager voice of a new GBS reporter on TV chirping in the background, Nelson dozing on the floor by his feet, a plate of warm apple pie in front of him, and suddenly everything has gone from being fine, to being wrong, all wrong.
Wally's not so keen about abandoning food just when he'd gotten it ready (and when he's so goddamn hungry) but lately, he's been losing his appetite more and more often since nearly everything in his life reminds him of Artemis. In the mornings, he wakes up in their bed – their bed – and he's so used to turning to his side and curling himself around her slender form that when he does so now and is met with cold, empty space, it's chilling and unwelcoming. He usually takes his showers before her and he's so used to her voice yelling at him from the kitchen or the living room or right outside the bathroom door, taunting him about how slow he was in the shower despite the fact that he had the physical potential to finish up in four to seven seconds. He steps out of the shower every day now and all he hears is a void of crackling silence, the only sounds comforting him the ones of Nelson padding along somewhere in the apartment and the engines of cars and the voices of their neighbours outside.
He is displaced.
It's like the rest of the universe is choosing to defy gravity without Artemis's presence and the injustice and ridiculousness of it all makes Wally feel nauseous to the stomach every time he thinks of her.
The world should be pausing its rotations just so Wally can figure out how to get Artemis back, but no, the world keeps on turning, and he doesn't understand why.
Wally figures, it's a Wednesday, and he doesn't have any classes today, so he'll go to her. To her grave, he means. He thinks that maybe he needs to remind himself why they're doing all of this and the only way he can do that is to read the words ARTEMIS LIAN CROCK over and over again until they're stamped into his mind permanently.
What surprises him is that there's already someone at Artemis's grave with a bouquet of gorgeous, vibrant lilies, garnished with specks of baby's breath. Artemis's favourite.
Wally stands off to the edge for a minute, not announcing his presence and allowing the visitor to have their time with "her."
"And I guess now you'll never understand how happy I was afterwards that I ditched that Halloween party to go kick ass with you, Artemis. I wish I'd told you sooner how thankful I was for you; how great of a sister you were to me, and how I'm so sorry," the ebony-haired visitor chokes out the last part and Wally catches a glimpse of her face when she tilts her head to wipe at her cheeks.
"I lost my dad to Fate, Artemis," Zatanna starts again brokenly, "and I promised myself that I would never lose any of you from the team. Not you, not Wally, not Conner, not any of you." She sniffs and Wally's breath catches as his heart tumbles out of its usual sync for a brief second.
"And look where we are now. I failed. What have I accomplished? Kaldur's gone, my father is still lost to me, and now - now you," Zatanna has to stop there. She leans forward and rests her free hand on the face of Artemis's gravestone. With her head bowed, she looks like she's praying and Wally has to look away because prayers are messages to angels, aren't they, and the irony almost kills him because isn't that everything Artemis is?
"Do you - do you remember Greta?" Zatanna says suddenly, laying the bouquet of lilies on the floor next to her as she perches herself on the grass in front of the grave.
"Well, it - it's Halloween today and I just - I figured you wouldn't mind me telling the story again," Zatanna says shrugging. She isn't even looking at the gravestone anymore but she's still addressing it as if she's talking to Artemis herself. Intrigued, Wally steps forward to lean next to a nearby tree that still manages to shield him from Zatanna's view.
"I mean, we didn't even know her at all, right? Greta Hayes," Zatanna says the name clearly, a small smile adorning her tear streaked face.
"God, her brother was an asshole but you sure showed him, didn't you?" she laughs shortly, the memory of Artemis delivering a solid kick to Harm's sorry face flashing through her mind.
"We did good that night," Zatanna muses, rubbing two fingers over one lilac petal.
"That night was and will always be my favourite girls night out because it was with you, Artemis," she says.
"It was with you and I wish you knew how much I loved you, how much I still love you, and how much I miss you and how - how sorry I am."
"I am so sorry, Artemis," Zatanna whispers, and then there's a hand on her shoulder and, startled, she looks up and is faced with none other than Wally West. The sight of him there, with his familiar bright, red hair and extraordinarily virescent eyes - eyes so weary, almost breaks her completely because here stands the single most important person to Artemis and the only individual who fully understands what she's feeling right now.
"I'm sorry, Wally," she sobs quietly, reaching out for his hand, "I'm sorry I couldn't save her, I'm sorry she's gone –"
"– I'm sorry I didn't tell her how much she meant to me," she fruitlessly wipes at her eyes and Wally sits down next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.
"I think she knew, Zee," he whispers after a moment of silence. She sniffles and turns to meet his gaze. His lips are quirked up into a half smile, one of solace, sympathy. That's all he can do: offer words and touches of reassurance and support. For now, all any of them can do is share amongst themselves what handfuls of blessed comfort they have left.
"She knew."