A/N: Once again, just to remind everyone A Lingering Feeling is pretty much AU after "Performance". In other words, the events of "Usual Suspects" and "Auld Acquaintance" never happened.

A Lingering Feeling
XII. Superhero
Let me be the one you call
If you jump I'll break your fall
Lift you up and fly away with you into the night
- Savage Garden, "Crash and Burn"

For Andrea
And for all those affected by the Colorado shootings
I hope this comforts you... if even just a little bit

Mount Justice
January 2, 1:00 EDT

Artemis yawned, and covered her mouth with one hand as the other continued to fervently create the curves of words across paper. The previous instance her mother had been locked away in prison, Artemis had faithfully written a letter to her once a week. When the detail of her daily life became too mundane, she would fabricate colorful stories filled with fairies and dragons and princesses rescuing forgotten queens.

When Paula was once again sentenced to prison last October, Artemis had continued the tradition—one of the few she shared with her family, or what was left of it. Fairytale stories from the mind of a ten-year old were replaced by accounts of gallant missions (with the exception of the top-secret, of course) and subtle musings of her personal life surrounding a green-eyed boy she simply dubbed "Emerald" out of paranoia.

For her part, her mother found the contradicting words and hidden meanings to be quite endearing, and stated in her last letter how she couldn't "wait to meet this charming young man, if only to see if his eyes live up to your nickname of him!"

In response, Artemis argued they were more of a rotten-apple-green than those of a forest pool, but she was always an awful liar.

Just as she finished signing the letter, her phone buzzed against the wood surface of her desk, sending a jolt of alarm through her veins at the sudden clatter. Her miniature heart-attack only escalated when she saw it was a message from "Emerald" himself.

"Hey are you still awake?" it read. "If not and you see this in the morning I'm sorry to have woken you…"

Artemis bit her lower lip and re-read the text. Wally had never wanted to chat with her this late before, or with a starter-message that sounded so uncharacteristic of his usual glossy banter. In addition, his grammar was correct, which could only mean serious business.

She leaned back in her chair and typed a swift response: "Definitely still awake. Something wrong?"

Almost immediately after her reply sent, Wally's caller-ID (a loony cross-eyed picture he took of himself when Artemis had made the mistake of letting him check basketball scores with her phone) illuminated the screen. She accepted the call hoping for the best, but prepared for the worst.

"Hey," she greeted him softly.

"Hey…" Wally's answer was more like a sigh, and when he continued, his voice was muggy and slightly scratchy, like he was suffering from an unfortunate head cold. "Happy New Year."

"Happy New Year to you too. You were sorely missed at the New Year's Eve party, by the way." Artemis then paused, and tapped her fingers in a crescendo across her desk before deciding cream-fillings were always more important than trivial small-talk. "Is everything okay?"

"Just dandy. Peachy," Wally answered. There was a hollow cough, followed by the truth: "No. Not at all."

"Oh…um, did the grocery store run out of food?"

At least her brief attempt at a joke brought a small trickle of laughter from the back of his throat.

"I wish…" He sighed again, and after a length of silence, finally began in a mournful tone, "It's Jay. And Iris and Barry. And my parents…"

Central City
December 31, 20:06 CDT

Two Days Earlier…

It had been all a blur to Wally—no pun intended.

They had gotten a frenzied call from Joan earlier that afternoon, and the house of cards began silently tumbling down like the puffy snow outside. And then Wally was next to Jay Garrick, who was lying motionless on a hospital bed, with nothing but the strident sounds of unnatural machines beeping all around. Barry was there, holding Iris in his arms and staring at Jay's oxygen mask with voids in his eyes. Mary had Joan's hands tightly in hers, and the two women struggled to be the other's anchor. Wally's father's thoughts were lost with his unseeing gaze out the window, matching the beeps with falling snowflakes.

The doctors couldn't deduce the enigma of Jay's illness, but they had a strong suspicion it was due to the overwork of his muscles and joints in his younger years. In other words, his superhero powers had been a double-edged sword, and what had been the source of countless innocent lives saved was now killing the savior.

And then the arguments began—slow like water on the burner, but soon becoming a bubbling cauldron with the power to maim.

Iris wanted Barry to reconsider his role in the Justice League, citing his future health, and their wish for children and grandchildren. She understood the superhero mentality of self-sacrifice in the name of justice, but love gives one the right to be selfish. She didn't want the day to come where all she would have of Barry would be his memories, and a bouquet of flowers for his tombstone.

And then Wally's parents carried the boiling waves to him.

"Wally, you have your whole life ahead of you."

"Committing yourself to this type of lifestyle at your age is a little early, don't you think?"

"Think about college, or when you get married, and have kids."

"You are our only child, Wally."

"We're honored to have a son who saves lives, but we would rather have a son than not."

And all the worries Wally's parents had kept bottled up poured out in implorations from the heart that turned into angry tears as Wally bristled and retaliated.

It was his life, he argued, and he wasn't doing all this for some cheap thrill. He recognized the sacrifices he would have to make; the dangers that shadow him every day; the reality of failure due to just one second lost. The motivation to be like his uncle may have been the catalyst for becoming Kid Flash, but it was not the fuel that drove his reason for staying— it was all the sunrises that arrive because of his actions; the looks of raw gratitude in people's eyes when he saves them; the smiles of all the Queen Perdita's of the world; and above all else, knowing his existence was making a positive difference in the world.

Yes, we understand, his parents yelled back, but was it wrong for them to not want their beloved son to die like Jay?

"He's not dying," Wally hissed as tears burned through his eyes, and then he ran.

Present day…

Wally told everything to Artemis, including how the arguments had continued when his parents found him in his room later that night, and how Jay's condition had deteriorated into an unexplainable coma.

"I never knew my grandparents," he confided in a flat tone, "so Jay and Joan are more than family friends; they are family. And when I was a kid, Jay would sometimes come over just so he could tuck me into bed…probably because I would fuss so much about wanting him to tell me his stories… he had the best stories—some of them were like Disney fairytales, but I liked the ones he made up the best." His voice faltered before he continued, "I still remember how he had promised to tell me a story about a Phoenix, but I grew out of that phase before he had a chance to." Another silent spell blanketed the conversation, and when Wally spoke, his voice was barely audible. "And now… I guess I'll never hear that story."

Artemis remained silent, her eyes cast somberly downwards and her gaze remained introverted. She had never physically lost anyone in her life due to death or illness, but she could metaphorically relate to Wally's current feeling of betrayal and hopelessness.

Then suddenly, an idea struck her.

"Hey Wally? Can I call you back in fifteen?" she asked. "I need to uh, shower, because I, uh, stink."

"Oh… yeah sure." And then his voice lightened a notch. "Ugh, I can smell you all the way from here!"

"Shut-up. Okay be right back then."

She hung up, but instead of heading for the bathroom, she threw off her current pajamas and tossed a shirt and sweater over her head, and quickly pulled on a pair of jeans from the floor. She grabbed her crossbow, coat, and phone, and slipped into the dimly-lit hallway. She couldn't believe she had just pulled off her first lie, but then again Wally wasn't in his most observant mood.

On her way to the Command Room, she paused at the kitchen and opened the fridge. She cursed slightly at the blinding white glow she was sure even the blind could sense, and rummaged around until she found the stash of leftover Snickerdoodles from M'gann's latest baking spree. She dumped half the bowl into a paper-bag, and hurriedly ran to the zeta beams.

"Recognized: Artemis, B07"

The last time she was in Central City was for Thanksgiving dinner with Wally's family, and he had carried her the entire way via the Kid-Flash Express. However, they had walked via the normal biped-express on the return journey, and Artemis was able to recognize enough landmarks to make her way towards Wally's neighborhood.

The crunching of the light blue snow underneath her boots was the only noise echoing past the golden streetlamps and dark buildings. She exhaled, and her eyes followed her silver breath to the pearly half-moon illuminating neighboring cirrus clouds that spurred imaginations of white tiger-stripes against a pellet of black. She passed an empty storefront, and caught a glimpse of her hastening reflection—long legs hurrying with determination, haphazard blonde hair shining in the lamplight, and the briefest flash of change in her eyes.

Selflessness in sacrifice was the duty of a superhero, or superheroine. It was the single most important requirement, even above strength, courage, and cunningness. But did being a leader and savior nourish the growth of altruism, or was it the other way around?

Artemis had set out to carry out acts of justice as a way to rebel against her father—to laugh in his face as the skills he had taught her for taking lives were used to save them instead.

But somehow, when she witnessed the reactions of individuals she saved from burglars and robbers and assaulters, the arrows shot from resentment turned into arrows of passion—a passion to right the world of all its wrongs, from abusive fathers who break families to malicious umbrella corporations bent on crushing the integrity from the world.

And then she wondered when had this passion crossed the line into her private life; when had it snuck through the bricks of her walls so here she was, running through arctic temperatures in the middle of the night to comfort a friend?

Artemis arrived at the West's familiar house and mentally mapped out the floor-plan until she picked out Wally's bedroom window. She steadied her crossbow, and shot a grappling line onto the roof. After she felt it tug snugly, she clipped the other end to her belt and began to scale up the wall, praying Wally had no nosy insomniacs as neighbors. When she reached the window's level, she gave it a few soft taps, and waited.

The look on Wally's face when he saw her made Artemis wish she had brought along a camera directly connected to national television.

"Artemis!" he hissed in a low whisper after his face returned to normal. "What are you doing here?"

"Operation: Cheer Up the Walnut—" She slipped the bag of cookies through the window and grabbed onto the windowsill. "—which involves letting me in before I freeze, by the way."

Wally quickly lifted the window pane higher, and Artemis swung herself in and landed on the carpet in a graceful cat-like posture.

"What are you doing here?" Wally whispered again.

Artemis stood up and instead of answering, took off her snow-covered boots and rested them on the windowsill. She then unbuttoned her coat, and laid it smoothly over the nearest chair.

"I'm ignoring you because I've already answered that question," she finally replied, before grabbing the bag of cookies from the floor and handing it to him. She sat down on his bed, reached for the familiar silver remote on the nightstand, and leaned back into Wally's pillows. She placed one arm snugly behind her head, and with the other, pointed the remote at the ceiling and soon the dark room was illuminated with glowing periwinkle.

"I—you…what?"

Artemis rolled her eyes slowly towards Wally, and suppressed a laugh at his expression. He was slack-jawed, frowning, and looking very comically confused in a flannel matching pajama set. She didn't notice them at first, but the faint light from the holographic planetarium had unlocked the dark shadows under his eyes, and Artemis's gaze softened.

Underneath all of Wally's jokes, strength, and heroism, there lived just a boy—a fifteen-year-old boy far from perfection and so close to the destruction all around him. It was a side he shielded from the world, like the soft pink belly of a tenacious tiger, but Artemis was privy to his vulnerabilities. She had witnessed it on the beach after Kent Nelson's death, on the streets after their encounter with Cameron, by her bedside after her injury… and then tonight, with him standing in front of her with the fragility of someone who just wants to save a world he has no control over.

Artemis gradually sat up and opened her arms towards him, and without a moment's hesitation, Wally dropped the bag of cookies on the nightstand and accepted her embrace.

Wally always found Artemis's scent to be strangely hypnotizing. The surface notes were always changing—from strawberry to vanilla to lavender—but underneath those top scents, there was always an underlying sugar and spice that both enticed his heart and soothed his breathing. He knew he would never be able to put a name on it, other than just… Artemis.

But before Wally could further sink into the warmth of having her in his arms, he felt a sharp tug and the flight of gravity. And with a muffled cry, he found himself swinging over Artemis and onto the bed. He kept his arms secured around her shoulders and they both tumbled into his comforter and pillows with a short burst of surprised laughter.

"Geez Artemis, don't you ever signal before you turn?" he teased, still keeping one arm shamelessly around her torso. Surprisingly, Artemis neither protested the placement of his limb or responded, and merely proceeded to point at and re-christen the swaying constellations above.

"This one is named Bill-less-Duck-With-A-Really-Long-Neck, that one is Fireflies-That-Got-Stuck-In-That-Big-Blueish-Black-Thing, and then if you squint really hard, you'll see the black hole that used to be Wally West's brain—"

Her commentary was cut short with a poke to her side from Wally, and she was forced to squirm and giggle in a very unceremonious manner. She lunged into him to slap away his hand, but only succeeded in closing the sliver of air between them, and when she looked up, the diamond stars were replaced with blazing orbs of emerald (and not rotten-apple-green).

"I just want to remind you," she whispered, "this is Operation: Cheer Up The Walnut, not Operation: Tickle the Girl Who Can Beat You Up With One Hand Tied Behind Her Back."

Wally cocked an eyebrow down at her. He shifted the arm underneath her and lightly tap-danced his fingers down her ribcage. Artemis tightened her jaw and glared at him. He smiled at her, and she suddenly felt an unexpected surge of heat and quickly looked away.

She coughed and then asked into the ceiling, "Um, do you want to hear a fairytale?" She had been planning the story in her mind ever since Wally's comment about his nightly childhood ritual with Jay. She conjured up a past story she had invented in a letter to her mother, and performed a few personal tweaks.

"Mmm, well that's new," Wally replied, reaching over for the bag of cookies and opening them. "Sure, stage's all yours."

Artemis accepted a cookie from him and began, "Once upon a time, in a land filled with peacock-hued forests and majestic purple mountains…

…there lived an old widow and her son. The poor woman was able to feed herself and the boy by weaving the most beautiful brocades anyone has ever seen. From her old wizened hands she would spin fields of flowers the color of vivid gems, seemingly swaying to an invisible breeze under a buttercup sun. Sometimes she would conjure up tales of yore, with fire-breathing dragons clad in scales of ebony and glowing silver, battling young princes on noble ivory steeds. Weaving these brocades was more than a way to get food on the table; it gave the old woman joy in her heart to be able to create such beautiful images. Oftentimes people would gather outside the window of the cottage and marvel at how her imagination would unfold onto tiny strings of simple thread.

One day, an evil witch disguised as a wandering minstrel clad in green walked by the widow's window. She saw the pictures sparkling alive on the loom, and was struck with intense envy. Never in her life had she seen someone with more talent than her, and so in jealousy, stomped her staff on the ground three times, and struck the old widow blind.

The widow was devastated. How would she weave without her sight? How would she feed her son?

"Don't worry," her son told her. "I'll find the Phoenix and its tears will restore your vision."

So the boy shouldered his bag of provisions and boldly set off in search of the mystical bird. On his way through the forest, he met the evil witch disguised as a miner returning from the caves. The witch knew the boy's intentions, and sought to stop him.

"Where are you going, young boy?" The witch asked inquisitively.

"To capture a Phoenix's tears to restore my mother's vision," the boy answered.

"That's too risky," argued the miner. "Here, take this bag of precious jewels and go home instead."

However, the boy declined the offer.

"I must help my mother," he said, and continued down the path, leaving behind the angry witch.

When he came out of the other side of the forest, he was greeted by a bucolic scene of rolling green hills and the scent of apples and cherry blossoms. On either side of the path were quaint cottages filled with dancing and laughing people enjoying tables of food and drink. The evil witch appeared before the boy again, this time disguised as a reveler tumbling out of a front door.

"Hello there!" called the witch to the boy. "And where are you going?"

"To capture a Phoenix's tears to restore my mother's vision," replied the boy.

"How dangerous!" cried the witch. "You should join us instead! We have plenty of food and drink, and the festivities never stop!"

The boy shook his head.

"I must help my mother," he said once more, and continued down the path, leaving behind an even angrier witch.

When he passed the hills of grass, he came upon a rocky mountain. He climbed the mountain, and arrived on the other side in a desert oasis city filled with shimmering bells and clouds of spices. The evil witch, who was becoming more and more frustrated with her failed attempts at stopping the boy, had enchanted the entire city to kneel before the boy when he set foot inside the gate.

The evil witch approached the boy once more, but this time disguised as the king of the city, regaling riding on top an orange tiger.

"My boy!" exclaimed the witch. "You have finally arrived at the kingdom you have been destined to rule. Won't you stop your travels and come claim your rightful crown?"

The boy paused in his tracks, and regarded the disguised witch in silence for a long time. And then just as when the witch thought she had finally tricked the boy into forgetting his mission, the boy held up his hand to decline.

"I must help my mother," he said again, and walked through the city with a firm resolve, leaving behind the witch at her most livid.

When the boy left the city behind him, he came across a dove with her tail-feathers caught underneath a rock. Because his kindness was as strong as his determination, the boy gently freed the bird.

"Thank you so much," said the grateful dove. "I am forever in your debt. Tell me, why are you alone in this desert?"

So the boy told the dove everything, and the bird resolved to help him. She led him to the Phoenix's forest, where they found the golden flaming bird perched on top a tall silver tree. As the Phoenix stared deeply into his eyes, the boy told the majestic bird his desire to aid his mother.

A stretch of silence passed, and the boy almost thought his journey had been for nothing and his mother was going to remain forever blind. But then the Phoenix spread its magnificent jeweled wings, and the heat of its fiery feathers rose into the sapphire sky.

"I have seen your determination," said the Phoenix in a sonorous voice, "as well as your compassion. Your heart is pure, and I will help you. Lead the way."

Overjoyed, the boy ran out of the forest, with the dove and Phoenix flying overhead. When they passed a desert cliff, the witch suddenly appeared before the boy, raging with intense fury. She shrieked like a banshee and threw a dagger at him.

It was too late for the boy to move, and the knife was about to pierce his heart when the Phoenix suddenly swooped down and took the blade instead. Its screech of pain was mixed with the scream of the witch as the brave dove grabbed her hair in her claws and pulled until the witch toppled down the cliff, never to be seen again.

The boy tearfully knelt by the dying Phoenix and watched mournfully as the flames around the bird gradually dimmed until only a pile of ashes remained. The dove returned and perched sadly on the boy's shoulder, eyes downcast. It seemed all hope was lost.

But then suddenly, a burst of fire erupted over the heap of ashes. The shocked boy and dove backed away, and before their astonished eyes, the fire erupted into a cyclone that reached into the purple skies with a boom as loud as thunder. Then with a flash, everything returned to normal, and the Phoenix rose out of the ashes, as glorious as before, its wings alive with the colors of the setting sun.

Then, a burst of light exploded around the dove, and when the glow faded, in the bird's place was a beautiful maiden. She took the boy's hand and explained she had been enchanted to remain a dove until she could help a friend.

The three finally made it back to the village, and one drop of the Phoenix's tears in the widow's eyes cleared her blindness and she woke from darkness to the majestic Phoenix next to her son's smile. The Phoenix nodded once, and flew off into the night sky, a streak of gold against the twinkling stars.

The widow immediately rose and headed to her loom to begin weaving the story of her son, the dove, and the Phoenix. In time, the beautiful maiden and the boy married…

…and they all lived happily ever after," Artemis finally finished.

The hush that oftentimes follows a story fell upon the pair, and the stars surrounding Artemis's vision were beginning to blur before Wally finally made any indication he was still awake.

"I liked it," he concluded. "I actually think it's probably better than any of the stories Jay used to tell me."

A spell of quiescence opposite in temperature of the one post-fairytale lingered between them, and Artemis raised her eyes to study Wally's face. The dust of hollowness had returned, and he refused to meet her gaze. Instead, he busied his fingers with stroking through the tendrils of Artemis's hair, twirling and straightening them in motions that matched his shallow breathing.

"Hey Wally, look at me." The iron in Artemis's voice jerked Wally from his reverie and his eyes locked onto hers. "Jay is going to be okay, alright? And even if he doesn't make it, you're going to be okay." Wally inhaled and opened his mouth, but she continued, "You know how I know you're going to get through this? Because you're strong, Wally. You've gone through so much as Kid Flash—dodging death, saving lives, saving the world—and guess what? Wally West and Kid Flash are the same person, and you're both courageous and optimistic heroes. It's going to be hard, but you'll make it. And Jay will always be with you—forever in your heart, and forever in the legacy he started and you carry."

Wally's gaze never faltered throughout Artemis's speech, but when she finished he cast his eyes away again.

"My parents can never be convinced again," he mumbled brokenly to the side, "especially if Jay dies. They'd want me to hang up my costume and leave the Team."

"They don't mean that," Artemis returned. "I may not have the best track record with parents, but I think their number one priority is for their children to be happy right? I mean… my mother worries about me all the time, but I think she trusts me. She doesn't want to, but she has to, and she realizes what keeps me going is something greater than whatever can ever stop me." She paused and grimaced. "Ugh that didn't make sense at all…"

"How old are you?"

Wally's random question caught Artemis off guard, and she mentally fumbled longer than her dignity would ever allow before she answered, "Sixteen."

"But how old do you feel?" Wally continued.

"Sometimes a hundred…" Artemis sighed.

"Why?"

"Because I was forced to grow up fast; to take care of myself at a young age; to learn how to take hits and give them; to always be the strongest." She paused, and then added dully, "And…because scar tissue always makes you older."

"Have you ever wanted a do-over?" Wally wondered out loud.

Artemis thought for a minute, and tried to picture herself in Wally's shoes—a picturesque home with two picturesque parents living the picturesque family life—and wondered what type of person she would be today. Would she be just as tough, stubborn, and knowledgeable? Would she still have wanted to push herself into the daily sacrifice of being a protector against crime? Would having everything she's never had sacrifice everything she's become?

"No," she finally answered, "because everything I went through—even the bad, and especially the bad—has made me who I am today." A small smile crept over her lips and she turned to catch Wally's curious gaze. "And I'm damn proud of who I am today." She returned the question to Wally. "What about you? Especially after what your parents had said? Would you still have wanted to become Kid Flash if you could go back in time?"

"Absolutely," Wally answered almost immediately. "Becoming Kid Flash has been the best thing that's ever happened to me." He turned to face Artemis and the edge of his lips turned upwards just the slightest amount. His arm instinctively tightened just a little bit around her. Well, one of the best things that's ever happened to me, he thought.

One last cloud of silence drifted over them like a down comforter, and sleep was beginning its gradual fuzzy claim on Artemis when suddenly a thought materialized. She opened her eyes and after contemplating whether Wally was already asleep or not, finally spoke.

"Hey Wally?" she whispered.

"Yeah?" he answered and shifted to face her.

"Just out of curiosity," Artemis began, "what made you—never mind, it's not important." She pursed her lips and mentally waved the thought away.

"No, tell me, I wanna know."

Artemis glanced away.

"It's really okay…"

But Wally insisted, and propped himself on his elbow and leaned over until he caught her gaze.

"Arty."

Artemis sighed and rolled her eyes.

"If I tell you, will you stop calling me that?"

"I thought you liked it?" Wally teased with a grin.

"Whatever, Walrus," she retorted, and then continued slowly and deliberately choosing her words at a snail's pace. "Um… just wondering… why you…chose to call… me. And not Robin. I mean…he knows you the best…right?"

"We-e-ll," Wally drew out the word in pretend-contemplation and leaned back down, "I just figured it's high time for you to have a few chances to earn some points of your own."

Artemis snorted.

"So what was this? Five points?"

"Three," he corrected her, "since the cookies were cold, and we didn't look at actual stars."

"But I ran through the snow!" she argued. "And told you a fairytale!"

"Okay, how about three-and-a-half."

Artemis stared at him with a blank expression.

"Hey, it's more than you ever gave me at once!" he continued to argue.

"Fine." She closed her eyes again and relaxed into the bed once more. "Can I redeem them for you to stop calling me Arty?"

Wally grinned and shut off the overhead stars with his remote. They were blanketed in soothing darkness and he lightly nudged his head against hers.

"Not a chance, Arty."

Central City
January 2, 7:58 CDT

Sometime during the night, Jay had miraculously woken from his coma with alert eyes and active limbs. The doctors were astounded, but mysterious recovery aside, everyone was elated. Joan had waited until morning to inform the Allen's and West's, and upon hearing the news, Mary had practically pulled a speedster in making her way to Wally's room.

She also wanted to apologize. She knew how much it meant for Wally to follow in the footsteps of Jay and Barry, and she was proud of her son for his acts of selflessness. Not many mothers of teenage boys could boast about a superhero son, but every mother worries about the safety of their child. However, she realized her baby boy with the chummy smile and dimpled cheeks was growing up, and it was time to let him run on his own winged feet.

Her hand rested on the door knob for a few contemplative seconds before slowly turning it to let a sliver of light sneak into her son's room. She leaned her head in, and wordlessly took in the scene of Wally sleeping with Artemis in his arms.

She frowned, and was about to barge her way in with lectures when a gentle smile found its way onto her face. The smile turned into a soft chuckle, and she carefully shut the door before heading down the stairs to make breakfast for four.

A/N: My apologies for not getting a chance to reply to review from Chapter 11! I've been scrambling to get this chapter up, and I was also out of town for a few days. I'll get to the replies soon!

Up next—the zoo! Please bear with me as that's going to be a really long chapter, and I desperately need to update my other fics as well. Thank you! And thanks for reading!

EDIT: Okay I'm about at wit's end with this: I know Artemis is younger than Wally in the show, but I planned this story WAY before "Coldhearted", so in this story, Artemis is older. Okay? Now I'm going to go through and delete all the reviews that are telling me this.