Disclaimer- Do not own Young Justice or any of it's characters.
Okay, I am not a cop, never have been, probably never will be. I'm also not in law. So I apologize in advance if some of the things in here are waaaay inaccurate. I did my best, I did some research on the subjects and just worked with it the best I could.
No I mean in all seriousness here is the next chapter I did what I could!
TEXT CONVERSATIONS GALORE! Oh, and Dick POV.
o.o.o.o
Chapter Length: 4,542 words
o.o.o.o
Artemis:
Hey, Wally.
Fire Head:
Artemis! Haven't heard from you in a while. Two days in fact.
Neither had anyone else.
Artemis looked at the text with bloodshot eyes, feeling guilty. For two days since her father's impromptu visit she had been struggling to come up with answers for herself.
Leave it to her dad to turn her world upside down and leave her grasping for something to hold on to, something that still made sense.
Her mother's love still made sense. Her friendship with Wally still made sense; those things kept her grounded. At least she could start there.
Artemis Crock wasn't going to wallow in self-loathing and uncertainty if she had anything to say about it. Instead of sobbing to herself she had been thinking very hard for two days straight.
And finally it had paid off with a crazy idea that had popped into her head, courtesy of something her mother had said.
"Try approaching your problems less like a werewolf, and more like a human," was a rather popular phrase Paula liked to repeat to her youngest whenever she was having a rough time with anything pack related. And it was that phrase that had entered her mind during her power thinking.
What did a human do when they felt endangered? What did a human do when someone was after them, threatening them? What...
That was when Artemis had come up with an idea that could either work like a charm, or fail miserably. All depending on the parties involved.
One of the parties involved being, strangely enough, Wally's friend Dick the cop, whom she had yet to meet.
Artemis:
Sorry, I've just been busy. Can I ask you something?
Fire Head:
Sure, what's up?
Artemis:
Your friend, Dick, the cop? You told me that he believes in all the werewolf myths... right? Or he thinks they're a real possibility?
Her entire plan hinged on whether or not Dick Grayson was one of the many people in the city that actually had an open mind to the possibilities. She really liked Wally, she did, but he was one of the most closed minded individuals she'd ever met; she hoped the company he kept wasn't nearly as stuck up in that regard.
Fire Head:
I'm afraid so. I've tried talking sense into him but he's always been a little whacked in the head, if you know what I mean.
Perfect. So fucking perfect.
Artemis:
Kind of like yourself?
She responded with a smirk.
Just within a few texts Artemis was feeling more at ease than she had felt for two days, and what better way to make herself happy again than by messing with Wallace West?
Fire Head:
I've never been whacked in the head! Dick on the other hand is a cop, he's seen the inside of his thick skull a few times. Really scrambles your brains after a while.
Artemis:
Uh-huh. And consistently locking oneself in a tiny lab and breathing in toxic fumes all day does not?
Fire Head:
I have a ventilation system!
Artemis:
Give it some time and you'll be believing in werewolves yourself…
In time, definitely. Artemis was going to get Wally's help if it was the last thing she ever did. He had the tools, he had the science, he had the brains. Together with her own brains and her knowledge of werewolf anatomy, she was confident that something could be done in the future to provide relief for her… condition.
Imagine how much better the world would be if they could completely wipe out the werewolves? Rob them of their abilities. The thought made her way too giddy.
Yes, Wally West was going to find out about her sooner or later.
She just had to pluck up the guts for it first. Rejection from him… didn't sit well in her stomach.
Fire Head:
Over my dead body. (Artemis cringed.) Anyway, why did you ask me about Dick's mental stability?
Artemis:
I actually didn't, you just turned it into that kind of conversation. You do seem to have a gift for twisting words there, fire head.
Fire Head:
...touche. Please tell me you don't want to meet him? I'm actually surprised you haven't bumped into him yet since you come here most evenings. I mean, if we keep hanging out it's going to happen eventually but I'd rather postpone that day to preferably never.
Artemis:
I'm really sensing the strong friendship here.
Fire Head:
You should be!
Artemis laughed quietly to herself, then took a deep breath. Maybe Wally could help her with more than just confirming Dick's werewolf standpoint… She typed out her message fast and sent it before she could stop herself. What she needed was a critical opinion of the matter she faced. With a rhetorical twist, of course, so that Wally wouldn't catch onto anything.
Artemis:
...Wally, what would you do if someone tried to stop you from doing something you thought was 100% the right thing to do?
Fire Head:
Woah, getting philosophical now are we? Well... I guess that depends on what it is, really.
Difficult dork; couldn't he just take it and leave it? She wracked her brains for a situation she could present to him. She smirked, typing.
Artemis:
Say you were a hero. With the powers from your silly high school dreams.
Fire Head:
Superspeed? My power of choice!
She could imagine the glee on his face.
Artemis:
Just remember not to go too fast, hot rod.
Fire Head:
Please, not the thinly veiled reference to sex again! Just go on with the question.
Artemis:
Fine. What if you were a hero... no, scratch that. What if you were a villain, but then you switched sides because you realized you didn't enjoy causing problems in people's lives. But then someone from your villain past threatened you that every person you helped save would be in even greater danger of being robbed or killed?
But you knew that if you stopped being a hero that the people would also be in greater danger without you protecting them.
So no matter what you thought to do, both ways ended in more danger for the people you wanted to protect.
She waited with baited breath. It seemed like an eternity before he answered her back.
Fire Head:
Artemis...?
Artemis:
Yeah?
Fire Head:
Is there something wrong? That's an awfully specific kind of scenario... is everything okay?
There was that ridiculous amount of concern for someone that he had only known for a few weeks. The same concern that had thrown him into a mess of crap he didn't even know he was a part of yet. It was a little flattering, but mostly annoyed her; partly at herself for wording her question in a way that made him suspect something, and partly at him for being way too attentive to the feelings behind the text. What was his deal?
Artemis:
Yeah! Yeah everything is fine. This was just one of those, you know, stupid deep pondering-the-universe-before-bedtime kind of things. I just couldn't shake it, I guess it got on my mind because you told me about your super power dream. Made me think of superheroes.
Fire Head:
Oh. Yeah, I totally get those. But, I think your question is kind of flawed.
Artemis:
How is it flawed?
Fire Head:
Well, what kind of person would do something like that all on their own? If I were a hero I'd have a team. I'd have friends in high and low places. Ya know, people to back me up. And obviously together there's no way the villains would be able to keep us from protecting everyone. We'd always have each other's backs. Imagine how cool it would be to have a whole line of people that could help clean up your messes, haha!
His answer surprised her. She didn't know what she was expecting but that wasn't it. And yet if her plan worked out, it would be like he said; in a way, it would bring her back-up, a second line of defense so that she could continue to try and help in her own discreet ways.
She was starting to wonder if Wally had mind-reading powers in his dreams instead of speed powers.
Artemis:
Cleaning up each other's messes, huh? That'd be a full time job with you.
She joked at him, though her thoughts were busy wrapping and re-wrapping around what he had just said, rather than focusing wholly on their continuing back-and-forth conversation.
Fire Head:
Hey! But yeah, that's my answer to your question. Is that helpful to your universe ponderings?
Artemis:
It was, actually. I can feel my mind at ease now.
Fire Head:
What a load off the old block, to not have to wonder in futility what heroes would do if they got threatened by villains! Sleep soundly tonight, Artemis Crock!
Artemis:
Only if you promise not to dream too fast. You might wake up outside in your boxers.
Fire Head:
Oh, the horror!
Artemis:
I really hope that wasn't sarcasm. Imagine how angry everyone would be when they woke up with science nerds in their yard because you went outside with your pasty legs showing.
Fire Head:
LOL, oh man, okay, you win this round.
Artemis:
I win every round. Good night, Wally.
Fire Head:
No you don't. Sweet dream, Artemis.
A clear solution had unfurled inside Artemis's mind, thanks to her texts with Wally. It was with a smile that she shut her cell phone for the night and laid it upon her nightstand.
That night she climbed into her bed feeling a sense of conviction and a much lighter burden on her redhead was right, she thought as she snuggled down into her covers after a relaxing shower. There was no need for her to try and help the entire territory out by herself. All she had to do was pick up a phone, make a call, and trust that the humans were a lot stronger than they looked.
If Paula Crock and Wallace Rudolph West were of any indication, they would definitely in their own capable hands.
That night, Artemis dreamed of being a masked archer with strong arms and full lips that smirked. She let an arrow fly from her bow, only to have it snatched right up out of the air by a red and yellow blur.
"You dropped this, beautiful," a voice said with much humour.
She couldn't quite place the voice, and when Artemis woke up she barely remembered the dream at all.
o.o.o.o
Artemis nearly tore the house down searching for the phone book. Luckily Paula had taken a bus into Gotham proper for a little bit of shopping, so the blonde didn't have to answer to her disapproving looks at the mess she'd made.
Although, perhaps the woman's presence would have been preferred, considering the last place Artemis searched in was her mother's room. Where she immediately found the phone book stashed in the drawer of her bedside table, right beside the old Vietnamese romance novels she indulged in each night before bed. Artemis rolled her eyes fondly, shoving the steamy story to one side so that she could grab her prize.
Finally. She would clean up the mess later.
It was another frustration entirely for her to find the numbers for the Gotham City Police Department. A quick search through the 'G' section showed her nothing, another through the 'P' section did yield her some results that got her blood pressure up though. It informed her under the 'Police Departments' section that she should refer back to the Government Section for results. Which is where she had looked in the first place.
Damnit, next time they were getting a phone book for Gotham City alone, not for the entire tri-city area.
Eventually, and several nearly torn pages later, Artemis finally located the numbers for the GCPD. Including the Tip Hotline number.
This was it, the number she needed, her last and only line of defense if she was correct. If Artemis Crock couldn't help the people of the slums as a werewolf anymore, at least not in the direct life-saving sense, than she was going to start helping them as a human. She dialed the number, one of her hands clenching into the comforter on her mom's bed while it rang at the other end.
With a click, a voice answered.
"Gotham City Police Department Tip Hotline, how can we assist you?" a monotone voice answered. Artemis would have been annoyed with the guy's attitude if it weren't for the fact he was, ya know, part of the Gotham City Police Department. Where there was so much crime at all hours of the day that the tip hotline was probably ringing off the walls from dawn to dusk. She would get tired of answering a phone constantly too, especially if half the calls most likely winded up being duds or dead ends on cases.
Artemis took a breath; she'd never really interacted with humans directly like this outside of her mom and Wally.
"Sir, I'd like to leave a very important tip for Officer Dick Grayson, specifically," Artemis said in a neutral voice. Sounding chipper about a tip, or too disinterested in one for that matter, was not a bright idea. So neutral it was.
The guy on the other end made a grunting noise. She heard him ruffling around in the background, maybe grabbing a notepad and pen to ready himself for her information. Or so she imagined; she had no clue how police departments conducted their business, and frankly she never wanted to know.
"Grayson, eh? Alright, what information do you have, ma'am?"
"I've heard Grayson has taken a prominent interest in the, uh, slum maulings," Artemis said, twirling the cord of the phone around her index finger. Geez. Wally would probably have a heart attack if he could see some of the ancient tech lying around the Crock household; wires on phones when there were things out there like cell phones? Even Artemis could see the craziness of it now that she had a wireless personal phone. She shook her head to get back on track; no time to be distracted just because she was a little nervous about this. "I have reason to believe that a little boy named Garfield Logan, and his mother Marie Logan, might be in imminent danger."
She heard the sound of a pen scratching across paper. The guy cleared his throat, shifting in his seat.
"You think they could be attacked next, miss? Is that it?"
"Yes sir. I can't tell you how I have this information, but they're friends of mine and I'm very concerned for their well-being," Artemis went on, her throat dry. Please work, please work, please work. "Tell Dick Grayson that whatever it is he's thinking about the connection between all these maulings, it's… correct. Tell him to talk to Garfield, ask him what he's seen." Oh man, she was walking some thin ice here. But as far as she knew these calls were completely anonymous, so no one, not even her pack, would ever be able to find out. Because she knew for a fact that no werewolves had infiltrated the police department; that was one force Lawrence didn't want to stick his paws in. "Just, please tell Dick about this as soon as possible. Tell him the slums need help. I have confidence he'll know what to do for that poor kid and his mother."
As much confidence as she could have for a guy she'd only heard a little about.
More pen scratching.
"Okay, I'll get it to him as soon as he's off his lunch break. Is there anything else you can tell us, miss?"
Artemis rattled off the address; she had looked them up in the phone book, remembering the location of where she had dropped Gar off that night. She let him know that something needed to be done very quickly or she was sure they'd be the next victims on the news. He asked her if she wanted to remain anonymous about the call and she said yes. Then he bid her a good evening and that was that.
Now all she could do was wait for them to take action.
Fenrir, she hated waiting on anything, especially with lives in the balance.
o.o.o.o
Dick Grayson had the story from Garfield within a week of receiving the anonymous tip. The kid seemed smart for his age, not likely to make up wild stories about what had happened to him some nights ago. Gar's witness testimony was enough to make the hairs prickle uneasily on the back of Dick's neck.
As far as he was concerned, this was exactly the proof he had been looking for. Also the kind of proof he couldn't wait to shove in Wally's face, even though he was positive the bullheaded scientist would still dismiss it as a kid's sugar hopped imagination.
"What did the wolf-man do to you, Garfield?" Dick asked him while he and his mother sat with him in the living room of their quaint home. Marie Logan seemed upset over her son's recounts, no doubt disbelieving he actually saw anything more ferocious than someone's extra temperamental dog. She tried to mouth an apology to Dick, but he waved her away, listening intently to the kid.
"He chased me. I was really scared, but I found a hole between some buildings and I crawled into it," he stated proudly, puffing out his chest. "He could talk, too! He told me that he couldn't let me go or I might tattle on him!"
Jesus. This was the realest shit Dick had encountered yet. He could barely believe what he was hearing, but he knew in his heart that it was true. If there was one thing Bruce had taught him, it was to always take every account seriously, even if it seemed like the biggest trash story ever.
"So he didn't want you to live because you would tell someone about him, is that right, bud?" he asked, jotting down very articulate notes. He had to make sure he got everything right down to a tee. Gar nodded. "I see. Go on."
"I didn't know what to do so I just looked away. Then I heard some really, really loud growling and barking sounds. I heard the wolf-man yell a name or something? I think it sounded like, uh, Ar- Ertarmes?," he struggled over the word. "Art must? I don't know, it was weird. But anyway this other wolf doggy I think ran him away. It was really nice, it was yellow and looked like my friend's huskie! Cept bigger. She led me home!"
Dick wrote down the word 'Art must', putting several question marks beside it and underlining it twice. There was something about the name that was bothering him, but he didn't press it any further; he would dig into it once he got back to the station. He put his notes up and stood. Marie stood as well.
"I'm so sorry for your time, officer," she apologized. Dick held up his other hand to stop her.
"No, ma'am, I'm sorry. I think your son really was attacked by someone at the least. They could still be on the loose and sound dangerous. I think it would be in both your best interests to relocate, at the very least temporarily."
Marie Logan looked indignant. "Excuse me?"
Oh boy. Dick made a placating gesture with his hands.
"Miss Logan, I'm sorry, but I don't think the evidence your son provides will allow me to put you both in witness protection. While I wholeheartedly believe Garfield's story, I'm not so sure it would be easy to convince anyone else. I can see by the look on your face that you don't believe him either."
Marie looked at the floor, her face hard. "I'm just… overwhelmed. I don't see how this could happen, wolf-man or not."
Dick smirked. "Have you tried just being whelmed?"
"Excuse me?" Marie asked again, eyebrow raised. Dick shook his head; he hadn't been able to resist himself, making up his own words had been one of his favorite pastimes in high school.
"Just a little joke. Look, I can personally help you find a home on the other side of the slums, it would be my pleasure. I know it's not easy uprooting yourself but I'm telling you as a cop that I think it would be best," he said gently. Just by looking at the woman he could tell she was hardheaded; the sun beaten freckles and tired eyes told him as much. Marie considered him for a long time, then looked down at her son when he tugged at her shirt.
"I don't want to stay here anymore, mom," he muttered, brows furrowed in concern. Marie sighed heavily, rubbing her eyes with a thumb and forefinger.
"What about other people here?" she demanded of Dick, one hand on her hip, gesturing out her front door. "If someone has threatened my son's life then who knows who else is in trouble too. I refuse to be a special treatment case if people are suffering."
"Don't worry, I'll have them covered," Dick promised, grinning. "We'll see how many threats get made after I request double patrols here at night. It's entirely your decision on whether you leave or not, Miss Logan, really. What do you say?"
Marie glanced at her son again. She tightened her jaw.
"If it's what you think is best… then we'll move. But I want to move into Gotham proper," the woman demanded suddenly, determined. "I'm tired of this miserable part of town. I've been trying to get back on my feet for a long time. You see, I used to own a very successful animal preserve in Qurac, but when the countries fell into war I knew it was too unsafe to stay there anymore. Especially when I became pregnant with Garfield. Unfortunately, owning a preserve doesn't make a person rich, and neither does a husband walking out on you."
"I'm sure not," Dick agreed, in slight wonder. He never would have expected her to have lived in such a far away place; she seemed like a woman that had been subject to a hard city living her whole life. "Sounds like you've led an interesting life."
"Interesting, yes. Kind, no. Rewarding? Definitely," she said, squeezing her boy's shoulder. "Officer Grayson, I normally wouldn't ask but since you're offering, if you could suggest a place in the city for me, I'll find a job there and get my son out of here. I should have moved years ago when the slums took over my neighborhood, this is no place to raise a child anymore. I was just too stubborn to leave my home."
"I would be more than happy to. In fact, I already have a few places in mind, I'll write them down for you before I go. I suggest you start looking to move as soon as you can, but like I said I'll be trying to get more patrols down this way, so you should be safer for awhile."
On his way out of the Logan residence, Dick received a text message. He dug his phone out of his pocket and saw that it was from Wally. In the time it took him to read the first message, a second one followed on it's tail.
Kid Flash
Hey, Artemis!
OH shit, wrong number. You didn't see anything, Dick!
The cop rolled his eyes.
Artemis. Wally sure was talking more and more about her, had even admitted they'd been hanging out a lot. He was starting to think meeting her would be a good idea, but he never seemed to get the time off to come over at the late evenings Artemis seemed to.
Artemis. Art-ta-miss.
Art must?
Dick narrowed his eyes, stroking his chin in thought.
Could that have been the name Gar was having such a hard time pronouncing? Artemis wasn't exactly a common name…
The more he thought about it, the more it started to make sense, and the more excited he grew. Garfield had said that a yellow-furred dog had saved him from his so-called wolf-man, and that the wolf-man had yelled something that sounded like "Art must!" at the animal when it assaulted him. Now Dick wasn't a scientist like his best pal, but he was pretty sure art must made no sense. Artemis, on the other hand, did.
And the dog had led him back to his mother. Then two days later Dick had received an anonymous call from a "woman with a husky voice", as Bob had described her, telling him that whatever he thought about the cases was correct. And what Dick Grayson thought about the cases was that there was a pattern of distinct violence that made him feel like werewolves were a real possibility…
Pursing his lips, Dick pulled his phone out and texted Wally back.
Dick:
Wally, have you told Artemis about me at all? And by that I mean have you told her you think I'm a werewolf believing lunatic cop?
Kid Flash:
...nooooooo. Why would I say that about my bestest buddy in the whole wide world?
Dick:
What does Artemis sound like? When she speaks, I mean, her voice.
Kid Flash:
Dick bro, you are asking some weird questions… what are you up to? Why the sudden interest in my friend? OH my Einstein, no! No you stay away from her, you are not going after her, you already have like ten life-companion possibilities, you need to stop! INTERVENTION!
Dick:
Wally, I am not interested in romantically pursuing your girlfriend, please answer my question you mad scientist!
Wally had some serious issues sometimes.
Kid Flash:
She's NOT my girlfriend for the billionth time. No, I'm not answering til you tell my why you're asking what she sounds like. Are you trying to profile her for something? DUDE, you promised me you weren't going to bother her!
Time to lie.
Dick:
I'm not profiling her, it's just that I've told Barb about you and Artemis. She's convinced this blonde chick she heard talking at the grocery store the other day might've been her. She didn't catch her name. Ah, Barb said she had a quiet voice or something. Which I somehow think from what you've told me about Artemis is definitely not her.
Kid Flash:
Quiet? HAH! No no no, my friend, Artemis has a loud voice. And it's like really husky, kind of rough. If I weren't her friend I'd say it was smoking hot. Is it okay for me to say it's smoking hot in a totally objective non-romantic way? Cause I mean it is but I'm definitely not… uh, nevermind.
Dick:
Keep it in your pants, Kid Flash.
Dick shut his phone and ignored the flurry of texts that buzzed from it.
He curled his fingers around the steering wheel, feeling a smile curl his lips up.
Artemis Crock was a werewolf.
And she was clearly trying to help set some things right in the slums.
o.o.o.o
I loooove making references to the actual show. Awwww yiss! I hope everyone is still enjoying this, it sucked my fanfiction prowess out, it'll be ages before my creative YJ juices are flowing again. I appreciate the continued reviews!