Disclaimer: Young Justice is owned by DC Comics, Warner Bros, and the network who I have come to loathe so much that words cannot accurately describe how much.

A/N: I must apologize for the late update. I know I promised it like a week and a half ago, but life had certain problems in store for me at the time. In any case, we're back with a brand new chapter! Call it a belated Valentine's Day gift. Because I totally planned it that way. Yes.


Chapter 10: The Flames

Artemis had formulated a plan. A very clear plan. A simple plan.

Step one: Ditch the Justice League, junior or otherwise.

Step two: Get to her mother's apartment before Lawrence.

Step three: Confront Lawrence when he showed up.

Step four...

Fine, maybe there hadn't been a step four. She was still caught between passively returning to the team or heading for the hills, though neither were her style.

Standing there amidst the burning wreckage of her childhood home with Wally shaking her shoulders and her mother trying to gather the last precious belongings she had, Artemis wanted nothing more than to collapse in on herself. She could scarcely feel her limbs anymore. They were nothing more than phantom extensions swept away by the hot air and ash.

Exhausted. That was the word.

Wally had impressively taken charge of the situation. It was actually pretty manly of him. Was this really the silly, impulsive guy who used to storm out after trading childish insults with her?

On one of his many trips in and out of the apartment to check the other floors, he had paused to pull over the hood of her sweatshirt to protect her long blonde locks from being set ablaze. Which was...nice. Liking someone was a strange emotion, almost foreign. She wished very much to forget that recent revelation, but the words played over and over in her head like a scratched record. I like him, I like him, I like him.

She shook her head to clear the distracting clutter of emotional thoughts. Maybe if they got out of there alive she could readdress these thoughts. And hopefully he never had to find out the horrible things she was planning if either Sportsmaster or Jade showed their stupid faces.

In the distance she could see the tattered remains of Jade's poster. A few shreds of purple and yellow paper were still clinging to life on the scorched walls. The luminescent eyes of the Cheshire Cat were quickly eaten by the fire, but the imprint on Artemis's brain remained.

Could this really have been Jade's doing? Paula had said before the Jade had visited a few days ago. Ample time to plant an explosive. Escape with fire, end with fire. This had her sister written all over it. She hadn't miscalculated after all. Jade simply beat both her and Lawrence to the punch, assuming they weren't working together. No, Jade hated relying on the old man. She was always the type to solve her own problems.

But to detonate the explosion at the precise moment Artemis stepped into the bedroom...that was tricky. There were no pressure plates on the floor, no identification scanners, and on the off chance Paula went in the room it couldn't be automatic. Someone would have been lurking around, surveilling the building.

That was it. The way in. Find whoever had their finger on the button. That was how she'd get ahead of the game.

Sorry, Jade, she thought. This won't be another of your games. And soon, you'll be playing mine.


Wally had firmly intended to lift his head and gaze out at a sea of wreckage, but to his surprise the building was merely on fire. The walls were mostly intact, the ceiling had scorch marks instead of holes, and he was still alive. So that meant one of two things. Either he was dead and dreaming, or it had been a controlled explosion. Very small, only meant to maim and not kill.

He understood. This wasn't the climax. This was the warning shot. Whoever had set the building to burn - his best guess was Sportsmaster - the message was clear: Back off.

But when had he ever done that?

Artemis was still quiet. Now that the initial shock had faded she was more focused. Eyes open, constantly searching, clicking away like a super computer.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Never better," she said in a deafened tone with no real emotion. But he could see through that. She had been shaken to her very foundations.

If they were anywhere else, if he could just be someone else, the only thing he wanted to do was wrap the stone-faced girl in his arms, stroke her hair, let her know that everything would be all right. But they weren't normal. Any relationship he ever hoped to have with this girl could never be normal.

Although if he ever hoped to have any kind of relationship with anyone the priority here was probably to escape the burning building.

The faintest idea of a plan seemed to snowball from there. Contrary to popular belief, fire escapes and extinguishers are sometimes more effective one might think. When he and the Flash were called on fire rescue jobs it was usually a matter of rescuing those trapped in inconvenient places. People stuck in their bathrooms, bedrooms, behind burning doors, trying to protect their children, and so on.

Still, there was only so long humans can last while inhaling smoke and God only knew what the shockwaves had done to the building's structural integrity, especially one in the bowels of Gotham. They had to act fast. And fast just happened to be his speciality.

A few laps through the building told him the only real damage had been to the top three floors. Every time he entered a new room he saw the signs of domestic living reduced to cinders. Blankets and clothes reduced to mere fibers, chairs and tables turned to kindling, wallpaper peeling from the walls like onion skin.

And the people. Families huddling together, children crying, mothers scrounging their last unscathed possessions, men and women watching as their sanctuaries turned to smoke. They weren't just rooms, these were people's homes. If Wally had believed in some omnipotent, godly higher power, he would have prayed that they caught the son of a bitch who did this.

On what felt like his hundredth trip he returned to the Crock apartment. Paula had gathered the children and neighbors in a room free from fire, soothing them with encouraging words, handing out rags to cover their mouths, and lining them up for Wally to pick up. She had a small arsenal of heavy blankets and fire extinguishers at her feet. Wally had to give her props; the fact that she was disabled melted in the face of her take-charge attitude. As expected from the woman who raised Artemis.

As though summoned by his thoughts, Artemis came back from kicking down doors with a few stragglers in tow. "That's the last of them," she said, hustling them forward. It had been tiresome work and breathable air was becoming scarce. They were pressed for time and they knew it. "I don't suppose those fancy superpowers of yours include flight?"

"Nope. Even running at my top speed, a drop from this height would turn me into speedster falafel."

"Nice image." She was still scanning the room and hallways. Her eyes practically jumped around in their sockets, restless and alert. Every flicker of light seemed to draw her attention.

Distracted was the word.

A thin bead of sweat rolled down Wally's forehead. His breathing was becoming shallow, a sensation he did not particularly enjoy. But it came at no surprise. Every journey up and down the stairs carrying people had whittled away at his stamina, calorie by calorie. Of all days to have skipped lunch. He thought wistfully of the triple decker sandwich he had stupidly left to wilt in the fridge.

Artemis noticed the exhaustion creeping up his face. She pulled him aside. "You're looking a little out of breath there, Speedy. Everything all right?"

"Don't call me that." He frowned. "I'm fine. Just a bit tired."

"Are you okay to carry the rest of us?" She looked back into the room. There were no fewer than ten people left.

Wally nodded and bumped himself in the chest a few times. "Of course! Who do you think I am?" He hoisted two kids under his arms, and sped off.

Heroes don't complain. Not when there are lives to save and a pretty girl to impress. It was time to strip off the reckless, impulsive Kid Flash and show off his mettle.

Every trip was more tiring than the last, but relentless energy seemed to stem from his very pores. He had always been more than willing to give his life for people, but his current motivation had a different flavor to it.

Everything's different when you have someone to fight for.


Though it felt like hours, the entire ordeal lasted no longer than five minutes. Considering Wally had been working mostly on his own to carry no fewer than twenty people of varying girths out of a burning building, they had made damn near miraculous time. Resting on the curb, his breathing had thinned and sweat pooled on his brow. It was a disgusting feeling he was not used to, but seeing the relieved smiles around him dulled the exhaustion to a mild irritation.

Paula finished consoling some of the more hysterical mothers and joined Wally on the sidelines. He had just finished wrapping yet another tearful thank you with another rescued civilian.

"Thank you, Kid Flash," she said, eyes trembling with emotion. "Truly. Thank you."

"Only doing my duty, Mrs. Crock." He threw in a salute for good measure.

She gazed out mournfully at the people still watching their homes vanish into flame. "So what happens now? These people...where will they go?"

"I wouldn't worry too much," he said reassuringly. "The team has got some friends in high places. They'll be taken care of."

"Really? Because we could've used some of your friends back there. Nice of them not to show, by the way." Artemis appeared from nowhere, one hip cocked and a shabby-looking recurve bow slung over shoulder and a handful of arrows in the wide pocket of her sweatshirt.

"How - Why are you armed?"

Artemis rolled her eyes "In case we're attacked again, of course."

She waved a hand flippantly at their surroundings. "You forget I grew up here. Mom didn't allow weapons in the house so I snuck out to train. I've got old weapons hidden around everywhere. This one's in surprisingly good shape."

Wally started kneading his temples. "Batman is going to kill me."

"It's fine! Besides, what if Sportsmaster or Jade are still around? How am I supposed to defend these fine Gotham citizens?"

"Nope, can't risk it, gimme that." He made a grab for the bow.

She parried him away expertly, keeping one hand securely on the handle. "Just try it, I dare you."

"Oh, that sounds like a challenge."

"That's enough," Paula snapped. They stopped bickering immediately. Wally's spine straightened several degrees. "Artemis, don't make trouble. Kid Flash, she's right, where are your friends? Can you contact them?"

"My communicator's still disabled. I'd have to run all the way back to contact them. But it's fine, the fire department should be here any minute."

Artemis scoffed. "You've clearly never been to lower Gotham before." Then she stopped and smacked herself in the forehead. "Oh crap, that means the police will be coming! We need to leave. Now."

"What? Why?" He could understand her apprehension with law enforcement, but she hadn't done anything wrong. Right?

She lowered her voice to a secretive whisper. "They can't see my mom," she hissed. "If they take her in for questioning, she won't get out alive." Paula looked uncomfortable for a moment, but did not contribute. Her silence was confirmation enough.

"You really think something would happen to her?"

"This is the League of Shadows we're talking about here. If you don't think Ra's al Ghul has a man inside the oh-so-honorable Gotham PD, you are fooling yourself." Her fists clenched at the very thought. "Just go. Run back and get Batman to send the Bat Jet or something. We need to split before they arrive."

"But I can't leave you or your mom alone. You could both still be targeted."

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but I thought being the fastest kid alive meant you could run to your hideout and back in, like, three seconds."

"Normally yes, but I'm out of fuel. I've only got one good trip left in me."

"Excuse me?" The fire in her eyes matched the ones streaming from the building behind them.

He immediately regretted his honesty. "Truth is, I kind of...forgot to eat today."

"But you're always eating!"

Hard to argue with that. "I've just had a lot on my mind, ok!" he spluttered.

"What does that have to do anything?!"

Oops. The conversation was taking a dangerous turn. Especially considering they were in front of her mom. "Look, we don't have time for this. The fire department will be here any minute and a potential madman is still on the loose. No offense." He added quickly.

Paula waved it off. There was no love lost between her and her estranged husband.

Artemis looked ready to sock him, but in a shocking moment of self control she took a deep breath and visibly swallowed her anger. "Fine. Since that's the situation, if you've got one trip left use it to get my mom out of here."

"Artemis!" Paula exclaimed.

"This is not up for discussion, Mom," Artemis said with finality.

"That's not a short trip while carrying someone," Wally warned her. "And I wouldn't be able to run back. Without our ship it would take at least five or ten minutes. If the police see you…"

"I've spent enough of my life running from the police. Ten minutes or ten days, it doesn't make a difference."

"But you might run off and then it'll be my fault for not watching you," he pointed out.

"Better run fast then."

"You're being unreasonable."

"You bet your speedy ass I am."

Paula looked suddenly uncomfortable standing between them and their crackling glares.

"I don't think -" Before he could finish, Artemis threw up a finger to stop him. "Did you hear something?" she hissed.

Wally and Paula craned their necks to hear the invisible sound and shook their heads.

"Oh." Her shoulders dropped and her hand slipped away from the bow handle. "Never mind."

Wally frowned with concern. "Are you okay? You look...distracted or something. What do you keep looking for?"

"It's called staying vigilant. Maybe you've heard of it."

When his eyebrows refused to unfurl, she punched him lightly in the shoulder. For once there was nothing vaguely threatening about the gesture. "Don't worry. I'm not running away." She patted her bow securely. "I'll be ready for anything."

But it was more than concern for her well-being. Something wasn't right. She was refusing to look him in the eye. That was unusual. Artemis was a very in-your-face person. All of their encounters had involved a stare down of some kind. In fact, he rather liked looking in her eyes. It made their squabbles enjoyable.

And why did she keep talking like the threat was still here? He half expected Sportsmaster to pop out from behind a dumpster from the way she was fidgeting. Her head twisted to jump at every shadow.

Then Wally's brain stopped churning. There was a possibility. A gloomy footnote lingering in the back of his brain. An unreasonable, unthinkable solution that he was afraid to voice aloud in case it became true.

But it made a horrible, terrifying amount of sense.

"Fine, I'll go," he relented. Relief became a bit too apparent on the her face. "But first...Artemis, can I talk to you for a second? Excuse us, Mrs. Crock." He pushed her into the nearby alleyway, far enough so they would not be overheard.

"What?" Artemis demanded.

"Sorry, but I have to ask." He curled his fingers to stop them from trembling. "Did you know?"

"Know what? I don't know what you're talking about." Artemis crossed her arms in front of her chest and kicked at a pebble. Unable to meet his eyes.

That was all the answer he needed.

"So you did." Anger colored his voice, seeping into his words.

"I'm sorry?"

"You knew he wasn't going to wait until tomorrow to strike. You knew he'd be monitoring the apartment, that he'd attack right away. You wanted to deal with him alone." Each accusation hurt more than the last, but they kept falling from his mouth like heavy anvils.

"You're cracked."

"No. I'm right. That's why you didn't want the League intervening, why you've been so distracted, why you found a freaking bow!" His volume grew louder with each syllable. "He taught you everything. You spent your life under command, studying his tactics. You know how he operates, and you knew something would happen!"

Artemis was quiet. But it didn't matter. He didn't need to hear the words. The guilt on her face was proof enough. But she spoke anyway, just to add another emotional punch to the gut.

"Doesn't matter, does it?" she said to the ground. "He's not here. No one is."

"You lied to us," he spit through gritted teeth.

"Barely."

"A lie of omission is still a lie, Artemis." He shook his head in disbelief. "If we had brought the team, we could've stopped this!"

"Well, how was I supposed to know he'd set fire to the damn building?!"

"But you knew he was going to try something, didn't you?"

She said nothing. She wouldn't look at him. Wally felt sick. All this time he had been defending her, caring for her, and for what? For her to throw his trust back into his face?

"And what exactly did you plan on doing if you'd found him?" He dared to ask.

"You don't want me to answer that." She whispered.

Wally wanted to sink to his knees right in the middle of that alley. His mouth felt dryer than it had back in the building. Instead he dug his fist into his forehead, kneading at the built up stress. "Goddammit, Artemis," he muttered. "How could you?"

She crossed her arms defensively. "It's my family, okay? This is my fight and mine alone."

Wally's head snapped up, raring to argue. "No, it's not! Not anymore. I told you I - we'd do anything to keep you and your mom safe."

"But it's not your problem!"

"Too bad! Because the minute you stepped into that museum, you made it our problem!"

"I never asked for this!"

"None of us did!"

"And I never asked for anyone to trust me!"

"But I do - I mean, I did! I trusted you! But now you don't want our trust, is that it?!"

"Maybe I don't!"

"That's stupid!"

They were running low both on breath and coherent arguments. If anyone had walked past them they would've seen a poorly disguised superhero yelling wildly at a furious girl in a tattered green sweatshirt who hadn't seen proper sunlight after weeks of the world's friendliest imprisonment. It was insane. He could've laughed uproariously and it would've been the least random thing to occur all day.

Wally could feel a tight muscle jumping in his forehead. He had never felt so frustrated in his life. It was enough to drive him mad.

But the absolute worst part was that even through the veil of red anger she was still so beautiful in his eyes. In the heat of their yelling they had drifted dangerously close together. Artemis was close enough to poke him in the chest to punctuate each sentence. At this distance he could drink in every detail.

Artemis was on the verge of tears. He could see them wavering in her eyes, though they would not fall. Anger was okay, yelling was fine, but tears would never fall. Not even for him, it seemed.

"You should've just left me alone." Her voice was thick and quivering.

Her skin was streaked with soot and sweat, the hems of her clothes were frayed and burned, her features were contorted in rage and desperation, and she had never looked so beautiful, so bursting with life and energy.

Wally could see the scene unfold in his head like a script.

He would take a step, then another, and another. She would mirror his steps backwards, trying to avoid him, but he would be an immovable stone wall. With nowhere to hide, trapped between him and the alley, she would have no choice but to meet his eyes. And the second he saw her storm-colored eyes peering into his, all self-control would be lost. He would lean in until the space between them shrunk from inches to millimeters, then meet his lips with hers. He would finally take the shot.

In a perfect world, they wouldn't be fighting at all. No lies, no anger, no good and evil.

But some things were only meant to exist in fantasy.

Police sirens began blaring in the distance, sending an electric shock through both their spines. The sounds were close. It was now or never.

Take the shot, West, his brain insisted. Damn, damn male hormones.

But she took away the choice before he could make it. "You need to get going."

"No. I can't...I can't leave you here alone." Not now, not ever.

Artemis notched an arrow and pointed it directly at his nose. Wally took in a sharp breath, but didn't flinch. The alleyway was barely wide enough for her to stretch the bow back completely.

"There," she said. "Now I'm threatening you. Get my mom out of here or this arrow is going straight through your annoying face. And at this distance, I won't miss. Not this time."

Just like that the anger and lies came flooding through its broken dam. Their eyes were locked in a battle of willpower that rivaled the very flames they had crawled out of. But they both knew she was right.

Their moment was over. He couldn't forget the lies nor the betrayal. He and Artemis were two caustic chemicals, slowly seeping and blending together, about to set the lab table on fire. No matter how the very sight of her eyes drew him into the sinking whirlpools of emotion, it would never work. Never.

Wally balled his fists, driving the tips of his nails into his palms. "How do I know I can trust you?"

She adjusted her grip on the arrow. "I'm not giving you a choice."

Without another word, Wally turned on his heel and returned to Paula. Many of the residents had found cabs or friends and family. They were petering out one by one. Every irritated voice he could hear sounded disheartened by the city's slow response to their backwater neighborhood.

He scooped up the older woman and held her securely under the knees. His muscles were sore and complained at the strain. "Sorry about this, Mrs. Crock."

Paula clutched his shoulders with stubborn hands. "I heard you two arguing. Is everything okay? Should I be worried?"

"Everything's fine," he lied smoothly. "We were just disagreeing on how to handle getting you to safety."

She gifted him with a heartening smile. "Don't worry about Artemis. She won't run off. I trust her."

Wally nodded in reply and took a few running steps. If only it were that easy, he thought.


The alley was dead silent once Wally had left, but Artemis could still hear the last ringing syllables of their fight melting into echoes.

Well done, she told herself. You really went all out this time. You should write a book. How to make the guy you like despise you.

Step one: Lie

Step two: Admit to thoughts of premeditated patricide.

Step three: Point an arrow in his face

Step four...

Oh, forget it.

Artemis slid to the ground. Her back scraped against the grimy alley wall and her feet edged around the corners of a puddle. It didn't matter. The conditions of this alley weren't nearly as crappy as how she felt. She could still see his wounded face, his anger at being lied to, the hurt she had caused him.

Maybe she was dreaming, but for a moment Wally had looked like he wanted to... No. No, that was impossible. She was dumb for even thinking it.

It was humiliating. Had her guard slipped so much? If anything it was the son of a bitch speedster's fault. He had slipped right through her defenses and teased out emotions she had buried years ago. And now they would be buried again. Six hundred feet deep in a cast iron crate with barbed wire and explosives and sealed with magic.

It's for the best, she thought. You never would've worked together. And if he felt anything before, it's gone now. You made damn sure of that.

Yes, the time for emotions had long passed. She pinched her cheeks to drive the focus back. What to do?

There were plenty of places to hide. Alleys, fire escapes, rooftops, the occasional construction site, once an abandoned elevator shaft. Years of high stakes hide-and-go-seek with police and local thugs had bred her for this. But the likelihood of Lawrence's men still lurking around was high. If he wanted to make his move, now was the time.

Frankly speaking, she couldn't have asked for a better situation. Her mother was out of the way, Wally was gone and literally couldn't come back, and she was armed. So why am I still here? she demanded of herself.

A high-pitched shriek shattered the air.

On reflex, she barreled out of the alley to the source of commotion. A woman was screaming and pointing to the building with a shaking finger.

"A-a-a child!" she stammered between choked sobs. "There's a child still inside!"

Artemis whipped around with the other bystanders. Her heart jumped right up her throat. Sure enough the small wavering form of a young boy could be seen through an open window on the fourth floor.

How is that possible?! Artemis's thoughts sped around in her skull, bumping off each other in their haste. We cleared the building! Kid Flash...he checked every floor...I don't understand...

She shook her head. No time for thoughts. Action. That's what was needed. They couldn't wait for the fire department any longer. She was going to play the hero even if it killed her.

Artemis seized someone's water bottle, ignoring their protests, and dumped the contents over her head. She tightened the cords of her sweatshirt to enclose her face and tugged down the sleeves to cover her fingers. Then, with a final breath to steady her nerves, she charged at the smoldering apartment building, breaking down the front door with a ferocious kick.

The second smoke hit her lungs she regretted it.

The stairwell was so dark she could hardly see her hands. Smoke was thickest in the closed space. She stumbled up to the fourth floor and rammed her shoulder into the door. It splintered open without much effort. She could see the kid still standing at the window, holding a winter comforter tightly over his head.

"C'mere," she said gruffly in lieu of comforting words.

The boy hesitantly complied, throwing himself into her arms and coughing violently. He looked up and noticed the bow slung along her back and the embroidered green arrow on her sweatshirt. "Are you a superhero like Green Arrow?" he asked hopefully.

Artemis smirked in spite of herself. "No, I'm way cooler than that guy. Now don't talk or you'll swallow ash."

"But what about the bad man?"

"What bad man?"

"The one who made me hide. Didja get him already? Didja?"

The air left her lungs in a whoosh. A cold sweat dampened the back of her neck. She could feel him. His presence hung thick in the air, causing the hair on her arms to stand up.

Jade didn't set the bomb, she realized. A moment too late.

She whipped around to find Sportsmaster, standing amidst the flames in a fireproof suit. A mask with large muzzles to filter the air covered most of his face, but not the black glittering eyes that peered out malevolently at her. And he was blocking her only escape route.

Artemis was literally trapped in a hell of her own making.

"Hey, baby girl." The low distorted voice of her father leaked from the mask. That voice would torment her nightmares for years to come. Lawrence spread his arms. "Look at this. Father and daughter brought together for one last reunion."

"I knew you'd show," she whispered. Her lips cracked and bled in the poisonous air. "I knew it."

"You've always had a weak spot for kids. Didn't I say it'd be the end of you one day?"

He was just stalling. Biding his time until hers ran out. Neither her nor the kid had much time left. If he didn't kill them the smoke inhalation would.

Then again.

Maybe this was her chance. She could end the nightmare then and there. To finish her plan after all. One shot and it would all be over.

A squeeze on her hand snapped her back to her senses. She could feel the little boy clutching her hand, his tiny shoulders shaking with fear. This is how it felt, she realized. To literally hold an innocent life in your hand.

And she knew what to do.

Artemis smirked at her father. "One shot. Right?"

Before he could reply, she spun around, faced the broken window, and unsheathed her last zip line arrow. It was old and crude, but it would do the job. Her back muscles squeezed, the wire tensed against the arrow. Heat made the air waver and melt in her eyes. The longer she tried to keep her eyes open, the more they teared against the dark smoke.

In one sharp breath she let the arrow fly.

The shot was shaky at best. It lodged into the opposite building's window. A few screeches of surprise echoed from below. The police had finally arrived. They were yelling through megaphones. No time to think about them.

She grabbed the boy. "Hold on!" He clung around her stomach, latched on like a koala.

Using the bow as handlebars she lunged out the window. Her muscles screamed in abject agony. Lawrence's roar of rage followed her out, singing her back. But she didn't look back. Not one glance.

For a few ecstatic seconds she was in the air. Free.

Then the line lost slack. The wire shuddered and turned to a loose wave. Artemis's stomach plummeted. In the fraction of time that she was still weightless in the air she glanced behind her. Lawrence stood at the window, a shining knife in hand. His form was wreathed in flames. Then he turned away. He wasn't even going to watch.

By some miracle they were close enough to the ground to not be killed by the fall. It was a small mercy. She tucked the kid under her chin and angled herself last minute to fall on her back. Years of training responded in her bones to instinctively protect her head and spine. But it was only good in theory. On impact her head snapped back and smacked against the pavement. The boy's added weight nearly crushed her already smoke infested lungs. All breath left her body in one retched cough.

Outside on her back she could see the sky turning to a burnt red and orange sunset. Like the fire had leaked into the sky.

Is it over? She wondered. Her skull throbbed as though being struck by dull lightning bolts. Did I win?

Black night was seeping into the corners of her eyes, projecting a thin veil over her vision. She could hear running footsteps in the distance, voices clamoring around her, and a hundred pairs of arms pulling her to safety. A young voice cracking with tearful thank you's. The fine citizens of Gotham all gathered around, dying to shake her hand and wipe the soot from her cheeks.

If only the team could see her now. A godforsaken hero.

She had even had the opportunity to get rid of Sportsmaster once and for all. Lying right in front of her. And she willingly let it slip through her fingers. What was the world coming to?

Her last thoughts before losing consciousness were of them. Could they still be a real family? Artemis's eyes and ears closed off the sounds of chaos and fell to a graceful sleep.

So this is what being a hero felt like.


A/N: So I made a few minor edits to the last paragraph because a few people have asked me if Artemis is dead. She's unconscious, guys. Not dead. In fact, if I ever fridge a character like that you have my express permission to track me down and slap the living daylights out of me. Sorry for any confusion!