Disclaimer: Young Justice is owned by DC Comics, Warner Bros., and the animated programming channel who must not be named.
A/N: Before I forget, I'd really like to thank you. Yes, you. Anyone reading this fic. I've gotten so much positive support and all these encouraging messages lately that I don't know what to do with myself. Just...thank you all so much. I will continue to do my best with this fic and hope that you enjoy it as much as I enjoy writing it.
Chapter 7: The Sunlight
Artemis was wearing a new sweatshirt.
Earlier she had asked if there was a thermostat because the room was getting a bit chilly. This seemed to surprise the team. Before she never would've made a single comment about the room, let alone a legitimate complaint, and, sure enough, she woke up the next morning to find it folded at the foot of her bed.
After suppressing some minor rage at the thought that one of the sidekicks had snuck into her room while she was sleeping, she allowed herself the smallest smile of gratitude. It was olive green with an embroidered little neon green arrow where the breast pocket should've been and two drawstrings she liked to curl around her fingers.
None of them commented on the sweatshirt when she wore it the next day, but she caught Miss Martian glancing at it with a poorly concealed grin on her face. To Artemis, it was just a piece of clothing, but to them it was a "sign of trust."
Speaking of which…
Artemis paused in the middle of her meal to glance over at her current "interrogator." Kid Flash was sitting sideways across his chair, legs kicked over the armrest with one hand in a ziploc bag of cookies and the other balancing a small paperback book between long fingers. Every once in a while he would absentmindedly brush the cookie crumbs off on his jeans in order to turn the page.
His wearing jeans to their interview sessions had been a recent development. While his teammates made a point to always wear their hero uniforms in front of her – if indeed they ever wore anything else – Kid Flash had recently made a habit of wearing civilian clothes. The rest of today's ensemble was a wrinkled blue button-down over a long-sleeved white shirt and a pair of red goggles to conceal his eyes. Not that it did much. Even through the tinted glass, she could tell his eyes were a sharp emerald green. She could see every follicle of his flaming red hair and a smattering of freckles across his nose.
The others had told her it was a sign of his trust, but Artemis had seen enough of him these days to bet it was a sign of laziness.
Knowing Kid Flash's true identity, or even any of the other's, was starting to hold less appeal. Locked in her cell with no communication to the outside, she didn't know what benefit the information would give her.
Not that it mattered. Since he was refusing to talk to her at the moment.
Kid Flash's attention was still riveted to his homework. For reasons she couldn't explain without the impulse to put her head through a wall, she felt miffed that he was ignoring her. As much as she had been trying to dislike the team and their fervent friendliness, she really had nothing better to do.
It was horrifying to admit, but their daily conversations were the only bright point to her otherwise endless days of incarceration. She preferred to attribute it to Stockholm syndrome, or that Florence Nightingale thing, or maybe a nice brain tumor. Any sort of medical explanation was better than the truth.
"Catch."
Artemis was startled back to the present as the bag of cookies landed neatly in her hands. She looked at him quizzically.
"Courtesy of Miss Martian," he explained. "She's developing a knack for human cooking."
Artemis inspected the cookie. The bottom was singed and the chocolate chips were cooked beyond melting, but it appeared edible. She took a bite. It was decent; definitely not the best she'd ever had, but the fact that they had shared them with her… An unnatural warmth spread through her stomach and glowed in her cheeks.
"Tumor. Definitely a tumor," she muttered under her breath, but helped herself to another.
Kid Flash was devouring his like a man starving in the desert. "Ugh, I'm in heaven," he said while polishing off what must have been his eighth cookie by Artemis's counting. He leaned back in his chair with his eyes closed and a blissful smile on his face. "That girl is an angel."
The cookie suddenly turned to cardboard in her mouth and a boiling heat rose in her chest. She tossed the bag so it landed directly on his stomach, causing him to cough and sputter his last swallow of cookie.
"Rather than planning your wedding to the Martian, aren't you supposed to be – I don't know – interrogating me or something?"
"Yeah, but I'm more worried about my English test tomorrow," he said, frowning slightly and wiping off bits of expelled cookie. "If I don't do well, my teacher's going to lecture me. Then Batman will. Then my mom will." He shivered. "I can't decide who I'm more terrified of."
"Superheroes go to high school?"
"It sucks, I know. But it's not like our classmates know our secret identities, and we can leave whenever we want if there's an emergency."
Without thinking, she heard herself say, "Huh. That doesn't sound so bad."
Suddenly she had to stop herself from slapping a hand over her mouth. Those wistful words weren't supposed come out, and there was no taking them back.
She glanced up. He had stopped eating, for one thing. For the first time since she had been taken hostage, Kid Flash was looking her directly in the eye, unwavering, as though held in place by an invisible string, with something other than hatred in his eyes.
It was pity. Again. He had been making that face a lot lately. Like a kid watching his puppy being euthanized. And she did not appreciate it.
"What?" she snapped.
He blinked and the look disappeared. To her surprise, he merely dug his hand back into the baggie and shrugged, "Nothing. School's okay."
The two fell silent. No sarcasm, no triumph, no sign of antagonism from either party. But the wall of conversation had been breached so Kid Flash took a stab at the topic again.
"So…" he shifted in his chair to an upright position. "Did you ever go to school or did the Shadows raise you?"
Artemis started picking at the skin around her nails. "Come on, Kid Smarty-Pants. Don't pretend you didn't pull up my old permanent record the moment you found out my real name."
"Just checking. And it's still Kid Flash." He leaned back and recited, "Straight A student all throughout middle school with a recommendation to Gotham Academy. But you dropped out two years ago. Is that when you joined the League of Shadows?"
"No comment," she replied, though less forcefully than normal.
Wally shrugged, "Well, I gave it a shot." And he promptly continued reading with a pained expression on his face.
He was right, of course. Six years ago, Paula Crock had been wheeled off to jail and Lawrence decided to spearhead Jade and Artemis's education. Except it was his opinion that learning to kill a man before he could scream or fight your way from a burning building surrounded by ninjas was more important than math or biology. Despite this, Artemis used to sneak in her textbooks and studied at early hours of the morning when even birds were too tired to chirp in her determination not to fall behind.
School hadn't been anything special. She stayed so close to the sidelines that teachers often had difficulty remembering her name. The only remarkable thing about her was an impressive grade record and list of forged extracurriculars to distract from her real activities. She used to watch her classmates run around below, all grouped together like packs of hyenas, laughing hysterically at everything, never knowing that to smile was a weakness. From her usual perch on the school's rooftop, she waited as their lives passed by below, smaller than ants and just as insignificant.
These kids knew hardship, it was true, but they had never known darkness.
In the middle of eighth grade, Artemis received a letter commending her for academic excellent and a glowing recommendation to the prestigious Gotham Academy, where only the richest of the rich attended. She had been placed in the running for the Wayne Foundation Scholarship, which was awarded to one outstanding student every year. But she would never know if they had chosen her.
Lawrence had found the letter first and, after reading it to her in a scathing tone, shredded the praise to pieces before her eyes. The next day, she found her backpack and school books in the trash. That very night she had been brought before the League of Shadows to officially begin training as one of them. She shed her civilian identity and donned a mask of shadows. Artemis Crock was a past life, a repressed memory.
Artemis frowned slightly and stopped picking at her nails. Why did thinking about her past self make her feel so melancholic?
The old Artemis was a child, spineless and idealistic. A little girl surrounded by nightmares and naïve enough to think it all a fleeting dream, to think she could still wake up from if someone pinched her.
The new and improved Artemis knew the score. She followed the rules, never toed the line, and never tipped the scale. Unless her recent habit of saving civilians counted as being insubordinate.
Her old, impressionable self was long gone and forgotten. Never to return. Snakes don't crawl back into the skin they've already shed.
The sudden reappearance of old wounds rubbed her raw, but her melancholy didn't last. At that moment, Wally thumped himself on the chest, let out a burp, and sat back for a moment to admire the feeling, like how a smoker sits back to admire having expelled a perfect ring of smoke. He barely noticed Artemis's jaw fall open and her face contort with revulsion.
"You're disgusting. I can't believe they let you out in public."
Wally snorted. "It's called animal magnetism, Blondie."
Artemis dropped her head into her hands. At least he got the animal part right. The boy was an absolute pig. "Oh my god, someone get me out of here," she groaned. "Anywhere, as long as I don't have to put up with this."
"Hey, if you can't handle it there's always Belle Reve," he said in a singsong voice.
"Not happening."
"Really, why not?"
"That's none of your business," she snapped. This was one bridge she wasn't prepared to cross.
"What's the matter?" he taunted. "Can't handle it? Afraid? If you're so tough, why not break out?"
She leveled him with a firm glare. He yawned in reply as though her ferocity had glanced right off him. That was unsettling. She liked it better when men flinched under her gaze. Clearly this whole imprisonment business was desensitizing him.
She gave a hollow laugh. "What makes you think I could break myself out? Pulling a jailbreak requires a team, back-up, an inside man."
"So get the Shadows to help you out."
That would be the day. "Wow, you must really want me out of here. Have I overstayed my welcome?"
"I'm just curious. What makes Artemis, evil archer girl extraordinaire, so afraid of jail?"
They were just words, nothing more than childish babbling. He shouldn't have been getting under her skin this much. But after everything she had been through with these people, and with him especially, there was a small part of her that couldn't hold back anymore.
"I'm not afraid of jail," she snapped. "Not Belle Reve, or even Arkham. I've had more than enough experience getting caught."
"Really?" He made an exaggerated dubious face. "Sounds like fear to me."
She wanted to strangle him with his own goggles. "Oh my god, you're annoying. Fine, if I tell you, will you shut the hell up?"
He raised three fingers in a Girl Scout salute. "Absolutely, speedster's honor."
Artemis stared determinately at the ceiling when she spoke next. Was it worth it? Telling him? Maybe it was the imaginary brain tumor talking, but the words tumbled out before she could stop them.
"If I went to jail…I'd be leaving someone behind. Someone I can't afford to let down. If it's not too late."
Artemis stopped. What was she saying? Of course it was too late.
She remembered how angry her mother had been when Lawrence had proudly let it slip that Artemis had turned criminal. Artemis was the one person Paula didn't want involved with the life. Her sweet, innocent daughter who sent postcards every week to keep her mother's spirits alive even in the bowels of jail. To give her hope. Paula had always said that, out of her daughters, Artemis wasn't cut out for the life.
Artemis wondered if her mother had been right after all. Then she wondered if her mom knew her precious daughter had been locked up for the past month. She wondered if Lawrence had told her. Or if Lawrence even cared.
Wally's grating voice snapped her from her reverie. "So, who is it? Your dad, your sister, a boyfriend, or maybe a girlfriend?" He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.
Artemis felt a wave of hot anger rise up in her chest, then pop like a bubble and melt into exhaustion. She slid sideways on the chair and let her legs dangle over the armrest to match his earlier positioning. She was so tired. So, so tired.
"Ugh…I should've shot you in that damn museum," she mumbled into her hand.
He looked up at her, all traces of teasing gone. "Why didn't you?"
"What?"
"I noticed that night when I was on the ground. You had me right in your sights and I couldn't move. What made you stop?"
One shot.
Live to run another day, little man.
Artemis pulled up the hood of her sweatshirt, hiding the better part of her face from view. "So many questions. What do you want me to say, Kid? It wasn't part of the job. Waste of arrows. Whatever."
She could feel his eyes boring into her like little green lie detectors that made her feel almost guilty for giving perfectly reasonable excuses.
He opened his mouth to speak, and suddenly then jerked his head towards the window, one ear cocked as though listening for footsteps. Artemis rolled her eyes. She had long since guessed they were using telepathy to communicate. A little effort to hide it would have been nice.
He gave a slight nod of assent and stood from his chair. "Well, looks like that's all for today. There's crime afoot."
"Wait a sec," Artemis picked up the book from where he'd left it on the floor. "Don't you need this?"
"Nah, I'll be fine. But if you're feeling bored and want to write an essay on it for me, I wouldn't say no."
She put a hand on her hip. "Not a chance."
Before she could react he had crossed the room and yanked the drawstrings of her sweatshirt so that the fabric completely enclosed her face except for a little circle around her nose and upper lip.
"'The hell!" She fumbled to loosen the strings. "What was that for?"
"No reason," he sang on his way out of the room.
Color rose in her cheeks. It was down right embarrassing. For him to have gotten the drop on her like that was unprecedented.
The room suddenly felt swelteringly hot. She stripped off the sweatshirt and dropped it in a heap on the floor. Then she gathered it up again, folded it properly, and placed it softly at the foot of her bed. It was official; captivity had made her soft.
Still, that was…unexpected, she thought. For him to be so nice. Artemis traced the faded paper book cover with her fingertips.
Maybe…no, he wouldn't have. Even Kid Flash wasn't that dumb…
She opened the book. There on the inside cover was a list of names. At the bottom, alongside a stamp of the current year, was the name Wally West.
As if that weren't proof enough, he had drawn several Flash symbols in the corner. Had he lowered his guard that much? Had he really been that eager to do something nice for her?
For the first time in what felt like years, something resembling a smile tugged at the corners of her lips, like an old reflex happily dusting itself off.
Even though the sunlight filtering through the single window of tempered glass in the ceiling was dim and ineffective, there was still a significant change in the room. The walls looked paler, the lamps shone brighter, the metal rails of her bed twinkled with light, and, even while sitting alone without her sweatshirt, a strange warmth was spreading along her skin as though she was wrapped in a transparent blanket.
"What an idiot," she thought.
If there was one thing Roy Harper had come to terms with over the past few days, it was that this woman, Cheshire, Jade Nguyen, whoever she was, she was playing him like a goddamn harp.
She had been unconscious for two days. No real surprise. Falling off cliffs did tend to tax the body. The journey back from Infinity Island plus taking care of Jade had been so draining that he'd slept a whole day and awoken to Robin's frantic transmission.
He had since calmed the team and informed them of Cheshire's whereabouts, but that still left the bigger problem. What to do with the assassin on his couch?
A slice of sunlight cut across the room to shine directly on Cheshire's stirring face. Roy stood above her, silent, arms crossed. He wasn't about to take any chances. Not with her. She blinked and squinted to see him clearly, as his position in front of the window made appear wreathed with light. She raised a hand to cover her eyes and found her wrists to be bound.
Her voice was croaky and a little strained. "Handcuffs, huh? How'd you manage that?"
It was hard to disguise the note of triumph in his voice. "There may have been a light sedative in the water I gave you."
She smirked. "Kinky."
Roy rolled his eyes and busied himself with the coffee. It was going to take all of his energy to get through a coherent conversation with her.
His guest was scanning her surroundings like a good little assassin. He suddenly felt self-conscious of the apartment's general squalor. In the few days he had been away from home, dust had gathered in every possible corner, another pigeon had gotten through the pathetic window screen, and the place had developed some kind of odor that smelled the cross between a dead animal and Wally's Kid Flash uniform. Truly rank.
"The solo vigilante business must be going well," Cheshire remarked. "Did you win the lease in a cereal box or something?"
Ouch. Right for the financials. "It suits me," he said gruffly.
"If you ask me, this place could really use a woman's touch," she said with a sly smile.
"If I see one I'll ask," he shot back. It was petty, but he refused to let her get the upper hand with suggestive humor. "Now, spill. What happened back there with Sportsmaster?"
She fingered the faded shadow of a bruise on her cheek. "Isn't it obvious? I got an extra special dose of fatherly love."
"But what does this mean for the plan? Remember, your sister? The one we're holding 'in captivity?'" he said with finger quotes. "I heard from the team this morning. The League's gotten antsy, especially since you're out of commission."
"Hey, don't count me out just yet."
"Oh please," he scoffed. "Right now you can barely fight gravity, let alone the Shadows."
She gave a little shrug. What an infuriating woman. Roy couldn't even begin to describe the strife she had put him through and all with a puzzling smile and a few raunchy quips. Maybe it was the benefit of growing up in a crime family, or just a defense mechanism honed over years of misbehavior.
He dragged over a chair and sat with his hands clasped. "I don't think I'll ever figure you out completely, Cheshire. But I have to know. Why are you doing this? I know you love your sister and all, but this is an awful risk for both of you. The team and the League as well."
Cheshire surveyed him with calculating dark eyes for a moment. He couldn't tell if she wanted to slit his throat or make a daring escape. His fingers inched towards his crossbow holster in case of either scenario.
But instead she sighed and gave him a relenting smile. "If I'm going to recite my life story, I'll need some coffee," she said pointedly. "Or something a lot stronger. If you have anything the rats haven't gotten to yet, that is."
He scowled, but obliged. It was definitely too early in the morning for this kind of banter. The percolator freed its last few drops into the pot, which he brought over to the living room. Wordlessly, he handed her a cup while sipping from his own chipped mug. The blunt taste sharpened his senses almost immediately.
There was something almost peaceful about the way she gripped the mug with both hands, letting the steam warm her fingers, a little smile on her lips. It made him forget. Their positions, their pasts, their backgrounds, he forgot them all for a moment. But only for a moment.
She gave him a toothy grin. "Look how close we've gotten, sipping coffee like old friends. Doesn't it just warm your heart?"
He hastily slammed the mug back on the table. How had he let himself be at peace with this woman in the room? "Answers, Cheshire. Now."
"All right, all right." She placed the mug as carefully as she could on the floor and crossed her knees. "Do you want the Lifetime special version or the Cliff Notes version?"
"Whichever takes less time."
"Cliff Notes then," she settled back in the couch. Her gaze was direct, but almost unwillingly so. "Artemis and I were raised by criminal parents. Mom wanted us out of the life, and Dad did everything to keep us in. Six years ago, when she was…crippled during a job and sent off to jail, he took charge and created the fabulous killing Crock sisters you know today."
He nodded. This much matched the information they had received. Hearing the words come from her instead of reading off a file was a rather different experience. Her words were raw and tortured under a mask of humor. How very like her.
"But you don't go by Crock."
"No," she agreed. "Without Mom around to cool us down, Lawrence and I had several…disagreements. So I ditched the fam and took my mother's maiden name. I didn't want to be tied to him, not even on paper."
"What about Artemis?"
Cheshire's eyes softened. "I couldn't take her with me. She was too young and my line of work was dangerous. But, little did I know, the true danger was at home. Children don't like it when their toys run away, you see. Artemis never forgave me for leaving her with him."
"But if you both hate him so much, why do you work with him for the Shadows?"
She gave a little shrug, her mind clearly elsewhere. "What can I say, Red? Humans can be contradictory."
Roy frowned. That wasn't the answer he would have expected from her. His hands shivered slightly around the mug handle. He made a mental note to lower the air conditioning later. "Doesn't make up for the fact that he terrorized you and your sister as children."
"I never said that."
"You might as well have."
"Nevertheless," she waved a hand dismissively, the metal links clinking merrily. "We became mercenaries for the League of Shadows and lived happily ever after. The end. Is that all?"
He held up a hand. "Whoa, whoa, that's it? You didn't answer what happened with Sportsmaster on the island! And I've still got plenty of questions."
"Oh, I'm sure you do. But are you really in the right state to ask them?"
"Wh –?" Roy glanced down at his hands again. They were shaking so badly brown liquid splashed from the rim, dotting his hands. You idiot! he realized. This crap apartment doesn't have air conditioning!
He stumbled from the chair, knocking the mug to the ground where it shattered into thick shards. Spilled coffee dripped in a steady rhythm from the table. Roy tried to find the chair for the support, but the sudden lack of depth perception made him snatch the empty air. He slumped to his knees, teeth gritted with anger.
She had already freed herself from her bonds and was standing over him, rubbing her wrists with a disdainful smile. "Don't be so dramatic. It's not poison. Just a little something to help you sleep for the next, oh, twenty-four hours?"
His mind was still reeling, his heartbeat erratically pounding in his ears. "How…"
Cheshire dangled the handcuffs in front of his nose. "Use a stronger sedative next time."
She started moving around the apartment, collecting her things and snapping on her belt. Roy struggled to move, to stop her, but his body felt like he was moving through a sea of syrup. It was useless.
"W-what are you going to do?" he asked.
"What do you think?" She wore such a bitter expression. It was jarringly different from any face he'd ever seen from her before. "That stunt we pulled hurt Sportsmaster's pride big time. If I know my dad – and I do – he's going after the rest of my family. They can't find Artemis, the team's made sure of that, but he can find my mom. And if he finds her…let's just say, she won't need to file for that divorce anymore." She rolled up an array of kunai knives and stuffed them in her pack. "Besides, it's about time I settled a few things with dear old dad. With any luck he probably thinks I'm dead after that fall so I'll have the element of surprise."
His deadened tongue felt like a brick. Words dribbled out slowly, without control. "But it's…trap…you can't…"
"That's a chance I've got to take," she said, adjusting her kunai. "And who's to say I don't have a trap of my own?"
Idiot, idiot, idiot. What did she think getting caught would accomplish? He wanted so badly to shake the altruism out of her, but darkness was creeping in fast from the corners of his eyes.
Cheshire stood in the middle of the room, and stretched her arms like she was going out for a light jog. "Whelp. Gotta run. Things to do, family to save, fathers to kill. You know how it is. But this was fun! Let's do it again some time. I'll let you keep the handcuffs just in case." She winked and headed for the window.
She was acting like none of this concerned her. Like she stormed assassin bases every other day. But it was all an act, and he knew it. She was doing it to protect her mother. To protect Artemis. Maybe even to protect him.
"Let…me…help…" he managed to say.
She stopped in her tracks, already posed for flight. To his surprise, she withdrew from the window and heaved his arms over her shoulders to help him collapse on the couch. He was too weak to move. It was taking all his effort to stare at her through heavily lidded eyes.
When she spoke, her voice was smooth and warm. There was no trace of her usual mocking sneer and teasing eyes. "That's sweet of you, Roy," she said. "But I can't get you involved anymore. This was never your fight to begin with."
"Wrong," he said. "You…made it…my…" His voice trailed off, unable to form the sounds. But it wasn't necessary.
Jade smiled. There was something almost resembling affection in her eyes, like a beam of sunlight had found its way in her smile.
Roy fought to keep his eyes open, but sleep had a death grip on him. His eyes fluttered closed. Through his floating consciousness, he felt her smooth back his hair, press a light kiss to his forehead – just to piss him off, naturally – and her fading voice say, "Sweet dreams."
She spoke with the same tone one would use to say goodbye.
The last sound he could remember was the tinkling sound of her laugh and the rush of wind from an open window. Then silence.
Dawn hit him the next morning like a smack across the face. He bolted up from the couch and his head nearly split with pain in protest. The apartment was still and empty; her absence had created a void in the room.
A light breeze flowed through the open window and rustled a piece of paper above his head.
Roy shot up and found him face to face with a dangling note. It was speared to the wall with one of Jade's kunai. The note was short, only a few lines written in a hasty scrawl, but long enough that the words chilled him to the bone.
Numb with dread, he contacted the team.
"It's me," he said. "Bad news. Cheshire's gone. She was here, but…" He glanced at the note once more and felt cold sweat on the back of his neck. "It's Sportsmaster. He's got her now."
When the conversation was over, he dropped to the couch. The ragged curtains still danced in the autumn air. He half expected to see Cheshire's lithe form drop in with the breeze, flipping thick inky black hair over her shoulder, with a cool smile on her lips and new proposition to screw up his life.
Roy buried his head in his hands. It was his fault for not keeping a proper eye on her. For getting too comfortable. And it was her fault for being stupid and thinking she could do this on her own.
"Idiots," he thought. "The both of us."
A/N: Someone stop me before I turn this whole thing into shameless self-indulgent fluff fic. Or, you know, don't stop me. That's cool too. Also, I ship Roy/Jade/sass. You can't stop me. Next chapter will feature two new guest characters and more feels. And sass.
