AN: Thanks so much for all your reviews! And a special shout out for those of you who put up with having a little chat with me in the PMs, it was nice talking to everyone! :)

Picks from the playlist this week: Wasted Hours by Arcade Fire, Do What You Do by Noah and The Whale, and I Just Really Miss You by Miranda Lambert (this last one is a bit of a wild card as in my head I never picture Artemis as liking country music ((that's Wally's job!)) But I've been listening to it non-stop while editing and it would be a shame not to include it.)

This chapter also features a shout out and a borrowed sentiment from the original Young Justice comics which obviously I don't own. Let's see if you guys can find it...

She aches for Wally.

It's the same ache she felt when Jade left, when her mother went to jail, when her father beat her for the last time; it's an overwhelming sense of loss that drowns out all her other senses until all she can feel is loneliness. She hates it, hates that she misses him, and hates that she's too stubborn and thick-skulled to figure out a way to fix things.

They're spending more time together than they have in a while—it seems as if now that their briefings are finished the League is determined to erase whatever trauma is sticking to their skulls with doubly intense training sessions; to her chagrin she's constantly matched up with him, the two of them forced to spar in front of the rest of the Team. It's not the kind of time she wants though; she misses talking to him, laughing with him, being close to him even if she found it unbearable and difficult and wrong.

She spends a lot of time worrying about what Kaldur had said to her on the beach, her own frustration driving inward and forcing her to be as annoyed with Wally as she is with herself; during one particularly vicious sparring match he makes the mistake of trying to taunt her and she repays him with a bloody nose.

She feels the eyes of her teammates lingering on her for a bit too long in the days after this incident, their sympathies too overwhelming for her to meet their gaze; She decides to retreat further inside herself, the same sense of isolation filling her like it used to before she joined the Team; she's alone, she's lost, and as much it hurts her she supposes maybe it's for everyone's own good. She ruins everyone she gets close to.

Even Roy, who she's decided to despise, looks at her with a bit too much understanding (as if he's worried) and it occurs to her for the first time that in some odd way her sister may be looking out for her after all. Before she can work up the nerve to ask him questions, even swallow her pride to beg him to pass along a message, he leaves and doesn't look back.

This doesn't help things, and she grows bitter.

Roy flat out ignores her at the next session and the one after, pretending not to hear the questions she asks under her breath and avoiding the glares she sends him when he doesn't answer. He never lingers after training and doesn't say goodbye to anyone anymore.

Wally's mood worsens and she finds they can't even be in the same room together without practically clawing at each other's throats.

Just like old times.

The sixth of February finds her in her school uniform, arms aching under the weight of a massive pile of textbooks and notebooks she's been extracting from her bedroom in the Cave. She's been tasked with completing a massive project for her History class, one that requires frequent date checking and cross-referencing events and even before she's finished reading the outline for the assignment she's feeling exhausted.

She's in the hallway when a sudden breeze passes her and before she knows it sheets of paper are whirling around her and her skirt is flipping upwards; in a frenzy of embarrassment and blonde hair she's lost half her papers and dropped all of her books to the floor, cursing as she pins her skirt to her thighs.

"Wally!" She bursts out, annoyed and cheeks crimson. He doesn't reply, already on the other side of the building and no doubt snickering at both the mess he's left and the humiliation he's caused. As she bends to collect her fallen articles an alarm sounds.

For the first time in more than a month the Team is needed.

Her heart is pounding like it used to when she first joined the team, running at a full sprint to her bedroom in her excitement and not bothering to tidy the mess she's left in the hall. In a matter of minutes her fingers are slipping buttons through holes and tugging stockings off her calves; she hasn't worn the kevlar in a month, the suit feeling oddly tight on her skin like the way it did when she first put it on—as if its infrequent use has made it unfamiliar with her body.

They're all assembled in an oddly short amount of time, the energy in the room strange, off balance, all of them too unfocused and too excited for something, anything to do. It's been a long month of debriefings and training and nothing, all of them beaming as they stand, constantly jittering and waiting for someone to give them instructions.

After what feels like hours Batman arrives, sweeping and commanding as he always is, speaking so quickly that it takes several seconds too long for her to follow what he's saying: A missile threat in Metropolis City, potential for millions harmed; it's believed to be Ivoh's tech— "Superman and I are tracking Ivoh; The League is monitoring the atmosphere around Metropolis and will alert you should we notice any unusual activity. M'gann, that means keeping the Bioship close. We've already notified city officials who are evacuating the city as a precaution, but someone has to remain behind to monitor the situation on the ground and catch any stragglers left behind—that's where the Team comes in."

"So we're the cleanup crew?" Connor interrupts, looking sour as he always does whenever Superman is mentioned.

Something behind Batman's mask tightens, as if he were scowling. "You're whatever I tell you to be." He says sternly, looking around at them all. "I know you are all eager to get out in the field again but I want to warn you: I fully expect this to be a false alarm. Don't let your over-zealousness distract you from getting the job done." Before any of them can do more than straighten their spines he's turned to Kaldur. "Organize your Team." He says plainly, cape billowing behind him and disappearing into the zeta tubes without a backwards glance.

It takes several minutes before they can do just that—they're a bit out of practice—but once Robin pulls up a digital map of the city it becomes easier. Before long they've got the city divided up into four quadrants, enough so that they can split evenly into groups of two. "It is settled." Kaldur announces to the room as a whole. "Quadrant one: Superboy and Miss Martian. Quadrant two: Myself and Robin. Quadrant three: Rocket and Zatanna. Quadrant four: Kid Flash and Artemis."

Fuck.

As he says it Wally makes a small noise of disgust a few feet to her left, taking a step forward. "I don't need a partner, I can cover my whole quadrant in a minute flat."

She can feel her cheeks redden as several sets of eyes glance her way, her mouth twisting into a frown. "Whatever, Kid Idiot. I'll go with Zatanna and Rocket—"

"I assigned two to a quadrant for a reason." Kaldur cuts her off, glaring between the two of them and immediately quailing the rest of her snarky comment in her throat. "I need the two of you there, should any trouble arise and back up is needed before the rest of us can reach you."

"There's not going to be trouble." Wally starts arguing. "You heard Batman-"

Instead of allowing him to finish Kaldur's eyes narrow, looking uncharacteristically stern. "And you heard me. I am leader of this Team, Kid."

Wally looks sour before snorting slightly, turning away from Kaldur and stalking towards the zeta tubes as the rest of the Team begins their usual pre-mission chatter to cover the awkward moment. "Whatever. Try to keep up, Blondie." He mutters over his shoulder.

Before she can stop herself she's rising to his bait, her nose wrinkling and eyes glaring daggers at his back. "Don't worry about me, Kid. Worry about yourself." She spits at him.

She checks her arrows with a slightly careless hand as she follows him towards the zeta tubes, getting distracted and having to count the number of explosive arrows she has twice. Wally's already disappeared when Kaldur steps in front of her, blocking her path and nodding at M'gann, signaling her to go ahead towards the zeta tubes and not linger to overhear their conversation.

"I trust that you also heard Batman." Kaldur's voice is quiet enough for only her to hear, his eyes understanding but still a little hard as they always are before a mission. "The missile threat is most likely a false alarm—as far as we know, Ivoh is still in prison."

"Okay." She's not exactly sure what he means by this.

Kaldur reaches out to her, one hand on her shoulder as he leans in slightly. "I believe this is an opportunity for you and Wally to talk and bring an end to the… unpleasantness we have all been enduring these past few weeks." The corners of his mouth flick upwards when she looks horrified, her cheeks flooding red. "Please do not misunderstand, I do not wish to meddle. I simply wish to have a functioning Team again."

"You can't just-" She cuts herself off, trying not to stutter into anger as her cheeks blush. She doesn't trust herself to open her mouth—she can't believe him, ordering her around like this, trying to force her to... something—and simply nods, glaring at him before she stalks towards the zeta tubes.

Her cells reconstruct in an unfamiliar alley and it takes a few moments for her eyes to adjust to the unexpected light; it's oddly bright here. It's strange, she had been expecting it to be early evening, as it would be in Gotham only a few hours away— She blinks.

It's not natural brightness; for some reason Metropolis City has all its street lamps lit.

Wally's standing a few feet away, stretching and not bothering to greet her. "What kind of city lights its street lamps before seven o'clock?" She asks him, more to break the stiff silence between them than out of actual curiosity.

He scoffs. "One that isn't the crime capital of the nation." He says, as if knowing what she's thinking and knowing that she's already mentally comparing the city to her own. Her nose wrinkles.

"Shut up."

He makes an odd show of bending to touch his toes and then suddenly he's upright, posture changing and muscles popping against the Kevlar, as if he's seconds away from sprinting. "Alright. I'm heading out."

She can't stop her brows from raising. "Wally—

"No names on missions, Artemis."

It's such a stupid time to bring up such a technical thing that she immediately gets angry, wanting to snap his goggles off his face when he pulls them over his eyes. "Fine, Kid Flash. Didn't you hear anything Kaldur—"

"Aqualad—"

"—said to us back there? We're supposed to stick together."

Wally snorts. "I heard you tell me not to worry about you. So I'm not."

"Kid—" Before she can even finish the sentence he's running, a kick back of air flying off him and hitting her hard in the face; at once her nostrils are flooded with the smell of damp air and her pony tail is streaming out behind her. "Baywatch!" She calls for him, but he's too far to hear now. She actually snarls after the whirlwind he's left behind, her one foot itching to stamp the ground in frustration for a second before she forces herself into stillness.

She hates him.

She doesn't know what she expected, thinking they could both handle being put in such close quarters while things are still so… Raw. Kaldur was wrong, thinking they could sort things out so quickly, force old feelings to die.

She was wrong for even indulging her feelings in the first place.

There's a light dusting of snow here, now disturbed from his running; with an annoyed sigh she starts following the trails he's left in his wake. Everything is so bright here, much brighter than any neighborhood she's ever seen in Gotham—all the buildings are made of glass that isn't shattered or filthy, all the bricks are intact and undamaged. The street lights aren't the only thing illuminated; everywhere she looks there are old Christmas lights still shining on trees, wound around traffic lights and she feels as if she's walking through some sort of snow globe. When she looks to her left she sees light bouncing off the river water, a thousand sparkles half blinding her.

… She's still being bothered by Kaldur, bothered by what he had said to her on the beach the other day. She's so tired of overthinking her decision, so tired of hearing it analyzed from different points of view… First it had been Zatanna—who had a point, Team relationships are messy. Look at Connor and M'gann, hell, look at her and Wally, who didn't even make it to that point and can't stand to be in the same room together. She had been right, to stop things before they started.

But that wasn't the only reason…

It's for his own good. She repeats the words in her head as her feet pound against the cobbled sidewalk, following the bend Wally had taken, tracing the path towards the bridge that crosses the West River—if she recalls their quadrant consists mostly of New Troy… Kaldur had wanted them to do a double check of the Hell's Gate Bridge, that's probably where Wally's running to— He doesn't need someone like her, slowing him down. She'll break his heart, she knows it, and she'll ruin the only friendship she's ever had that actually meant something and then she'll be alone again—

… Didn't she already ruin that friendship by telling him no—

Her hands automatically fly to her face, and without knowing it she stops walking, the heels of her palms pressing against her eyes. Calm down. She tells herself, teeth digging into the edge of her tongue deliberately hard, trying to get her mind to focus on pain rather than over thinking. She made the right choice, being with Wally would only put him in danger, if not from her then from her family—look at them, ex-con mother, assassin sister, murderous father who will no doubt come after her the second he's out of prison, he's better off without all that— Resolutely she pulls her hands from her eyes, forcing her feet to keep moving and ignoring the way the her skin prickles despite the oddly warm February air rolling off the river. It's not cold here, the way it is in Gotham; the air is lighter, healthier, and warmer in her lungs somehow.

And yet Kaldur… What he had said to her. "No one can wait forever."

Kaldur was wrong when he said it was easy for her to close people off; it isn't easy, keeping her walls up. It isn't easy, forcing herself to keep the people she cares about at an arm's length. But what choice does she have? How can they expect her to open up when she's so used to being alone? For so long she's been stuck, waiting around for people to come back—her mother, Jade, her father—isn't it easier to push them away rather than to cling to them? Easier to just keep them at a distance rather than risk the pain of them getting close?

She's not asking Wally to wait forever. She doesn't want him to wait at all. She wants him to run from her, wants him to stay away; it's easier, watching him go, far easier than holding onto the false hope that he'll stay—

Her life is like a bus stop. She thinks it as she walks past one; people come and stay a while but before she knows it they always leave, continue on their way and leave her behind… Nobody stays for her. Nobody comes back, not for her (useless, pathetic, weak, worthless.) It's easier this way, not even giving him the chance to stay in the first place, not giving him a chance to ruin her more than she already is…

… He already came back once. Remember?

What's to say he won't stick around for good this time?

... Don't be naïve.

It's been ghostly quiet on the street, not even a stray cat to disturb her, which is why she stills slightly when she sees movement on the bridge; almost immediately she's drawn her arrow, set it against the notch on her finger and aligned it with her bow, the muscles in her back stretching and popping over her shoulders as she rushes into position. She's been lost in thought, off her game, not paying attention— Careless.

She's just about released her arrow when she notices the red and yellow and realizes that it's just Wally, a sudden rush of annoyance flooding through her; he's looking relaxed, downright leisurely and perching casually on the railing of the bridge, back against a support beam and leg dangled over the water, waiting for her to catch up. It's a testament to her reflexes that she manages to adjust her bow at the last second, hoping the extra inch or so she's raised it upwards is enough to avoid hitting him.

Even through her annoyance she's aware of a sudden fear that sounds in her stomach, her ears listening hard to the whisper of wind as her arrow flies through the air; that's the last thing she would need right now on top of everything, fatally injuring a teammate... And what a waste it would be, all this effort to protect him from her only to accidentally fire in arrow through his heart, she's so careless, so stupid...

There's a half second of anxiety before she hears the sound of metal colliding with metal, Wally yelping in surprise as her arrow wedges against the edge of a steel beam. She can see him wobble in his spot, trying to get his balance back as he jerks his head up to glare at her. "What the fuck was that for?" He swears at her, jumping from the bridge railing as if burnt, the metal still shaking and echoing from impact.

She forces herself to let out a mean sounding chuckle, rounding the last edge of the corner onto the bridge and looking him dead in the face. His ears are a startling red, whether from his own embarrassment or from the reflection of so many rose colored lights she can't quite tell. "Hm, I don't know." She says coyly, gesturing at him with her bow and pretending not to be slightly afraid for him still. "Maybe it was for the time you abandoned me in the middle of a mission."

"Don't be dramatic." He tells her, lifting his goggles to rub at his eyes before fixing them on his forehead. "It's not like you can't take care of yourself."

"That's beside the point." She snarls, stopping when she's a foot or so from him; her temper is catching up to her, all her annoyance for every rude comment he's made to her the past few weeks bubbling to the surface. "Aqualad gave us orders. We're supposed to stick together."

Wally looks at her, eyes glaring and mouth twisted into a snarl; for a second he looks as if he's about to start swearing at her or hit her or do something, then all at once he's turned on his heel and started walking towards the other side of the bridge. "Fine." He growls.

"Fine?" She repeats—for some reason she lets out some sort of odd yet dangerous sounding laugh as she does it, her feet racing of their own accord until she's one pace in front of him, her bow brandished out and pinning against his chest, stopping him. "That's it? Really Wally? That's all you're going to give me? 'Fine'?"

She'd been expecting him to get riled up at the way she's speaking to him, at the very least throw the tip of her bow off of his chest; instead he goes very still, ears burning. "Don't use my real name on missions." He reminds her, voice low and eyes dangerous.

She lets her bow fall, her eyes wide and a little buggy as she laughs again, unravelling. "For fuck's sake, Wally. I have news for you—" For some reason her voice gets very loud until she's yelling in his face, echoing off the steel beams around them. "There's nobody here! Its bullshit!"

It's inexcusable but she reaches out to push angrily him with one hand, her muscles jutting against him until she throws him a step back, breathing heavily all the while. She's acting crazy, completely unfocused on the mission; all the bickering and the loneliness and regret she's endured the past few weeks boiling up inside her and spilling over her edges.

Suddenly she doesn't even want to be near him; he disgusts her and she kind of disgusts herself at the moment, one hand running up the crown of her head and tugging at her hair as she takes a step backwards. Once she starts moving she finds it difficult to stop, the awkwardness of her backwards walk combined with the pulling at her scalp giving her something to focus on rather than her own uneven emotions.

Wally glares at her and lets her take a few paces backwards before he manages to speak; this time he sounds properly angry, his voice low and haggard as if he's annoyed at her for walking away from him. "Yeah, you would know all about that, wouldn't you?"

It's an odd thing to say and for some reason her feet slow. "All about what?" She snarls back.

Wally holds her gaze for about two seconds, his mouth opening and closing several times. "I..." He starts, cutting himself off, and to her fury his eyes actually fall to her breasts for a moment, watching as they rise and fall with her shuddering breaths. She hates that at once her stomach drops and her skin seems to heat up, and out of pure embarrassment at him making her feel these things she has half a mind to deck him, to strangle him, to make like she almost did in Bialya and carve his retinas out with an arrow. But before she can do much other than clench her fingers into a tightly balled fist he's shaking his head, ears blazing and eyes looking past her to the river below them and looking as if he's determined never to speak to her again. "… Never mind. Let's just complete the mission."

A frustrated noise bubbles up and out of her throat. "No!" She half yells at him, side stepping and trying to catch his gaze. "God, Wally, will you please just talk to me? I hate this, I hate this—I hate not being friends and I hate not knowing what you're thinking—"

She hates that her voice breaks when she cries out; hates that all it takes is a look from him to stir up these feelings inside her, hates that he's the one thing she can't resist; she hates that he never tells her things anymore, that he doesn't touch her in moments of tenderness like he used to, hates that she lost all his comfort and his friendship because of her own damn insecurities and hates that now she's lost and she'll never get him back, never find her way back to him...

"I can't talk to you!" He bursts out, finally meeting her eyes, his jaw tight under his mask. "I don't know how anymore, I don't even know how to do anything other than fighting—"

"Then fight with me!" She screams, reaching out to push him harder; this time he full on stumbles backwards, nearly losing his footing. "If that's the only way we can talk then let's just—please, Wally, I can't do this anymore. I can't—"

In an act of pure desperation she launches herself at him, not being kind in the way she touches him; she punches him in the shoulder not once but twice more before he seems to come to his senses, grabbing her hand and throwing her off of him; they're both breathing heavily and for the first time in her life she wants to hurt him, really hurt him, for making her think these things and act this way...

"Just leave me alone, Artemis!" He bursts out, catching the hand holding her bow in midair as it reaches out to prod jaggedly at his shoulder; suddenly she no longer has a grip on it at all and it's clattering violently against the pavement a few feet away.

It's as if something's broken between them; for a few seconds they both stay completely still, both shaking with the effort of breathing and scowling thickly. She hates the boy in front of her, hates that he's confused her as much as he has; hates that she can't turn back time and stop this whole mess from happening. Because now there's no way to fix all the damage she's done, no way to mend the broken pieces of what they used to be.

She hates herself too.

Wally looks away first, his eyes focusing again at the river over her shoulder. As he does it part of him seem to unwind, tense muscles along his chest loosening and relaxing; all at once his head turns to focus on her bow, and before she can do more that stare at the harsh line his jaw makes against his neck he's gone and come back.

"I'm sorry." He says, and for the first time in weeks there's no hostility in his voice, no hurt there, his right hand reaching out and offering her bow to her.

When she doesn't do anything other than blink at him, still caught between anger and confusion, he reaches for her and touches her gently for the first time in a long time—there's no hate here, no violence, just his fingers curling around her wrist and at once she can feel herself responding to him again, cheeks growing hot and pulse quickening, blood pounding so hard against her veins that she's sure he can feel it. Almost too slowly he raises her hand, just enough so he can place her bow back in it, his fingers working against hers until she's wrapped around the curve of her weapon, before releasing her.

"I'm sorry." He repeats, watching her hand fall back to her side. "That—that was out of line. I—"

"What did you mean before?" She interrupts him, wincing slightly as she hears her own voice—too soft, too broken sounding to really be her.

Something in Wally's face tightens and he glances down at his feet. "I don't—"

"Wally."

He hesitates, then rolls his head back up to her, ears red but refusing to look away. "Look. I—I know why you don't think this will work. I know. I just think… I just think its bullshit, okay? And I know, I know, Artemis, you've said it a thousand times, I know you think you're messed up and for some reason you think you're going to mess me up too, and… I just think you're over thinking it."

His hand is predictably at the back of his neck, his ears turning a startling red in the silence that unfolds while he waits for her to speak. "… Over thinking it?" She repeats, hating that she's whispering.

"Yeah." His hand falls, leaving his hair mused as he begins stumbling over his words. "Because you and me… We work well together, you know? Like, remember Bialya? I don't even know how to describe it, it was like… I-it was like finding someone... Look, that's just the way it's supposed to be, Artemis. I know it. You and Me."

"Wally—"

"You know…" He hesitates, his ears going off again before he's suddenly speaking so quickly that she can barely follow. "One of the basic principles of science states that progress can only be made by testing a hypothesis and pushing boundaries…" For a second she actually wants to punch him, to smack the nerdiness out of him and the way his eyes are suddenly lighting up hopefully, reflecting all the lights in the city and looking as if he's suddenly made a break through. "And I just—look, can you just let me test one of mine? Can you just… Can you just not think for a second?" It's worded badly but the way he asks her breaks her, his eyes wide and earnest, so pleading that she actually bites the inside of her cheek, watching him warily. "… Just let me—" He breaks off abruptly, reaching for her.

She can't stop herself from jerking back when his fingers brush her chin; he's switching paces too quickly for her like he always is, changing tactics before she has enough time to process the plan, and she had just been fighting with this boy, she had just wanted to kill him, and now he's advancing on her and looking at her like she's worth the world and she isn't, she isn't, he needs to stay away from her-

"Artemis." He breathes her name and looks hurt by her reaction, the walnut smell she so adores splashing her hard across her face. "Please."

She can sense a part of him bubbling to the surface, can sense that in the face of her cruelty she's getting close to breaking him, and that alone kills her- if there's one thing in the world she never wants to hurt, at least in this way, it's Wally West. "O-okay." She stutters out, all of her muscles clenching together and forcing her into stillness.

Don't think. Don't think. She repeats the words inside her skull until they numb her, allowing herself nearly a minute of painful stillness and stiffness before she nods at him, clenching her fists to avoid striking him in terror when he starts moving closer.

Wally watches her carefully as he shifts himself towards her, long lines of muscled legs and perfect joints jutting against his suit as he takes a half step closer. He's grown maybe another quarter inch since she was last this close to him; she suspects that by summer's end in August he'll have grown nearly two inches, maybe three. She swallows thickly as he ducks his jaw, square and thick against the flesh of his neck, her eyelids drooping slightly to watch his hands; she can feel her heart hammering against her ribs as he steps forward slightly, fingers grazing the exposed flesh of her stomach.

His fingers are warm, too warm, and as if she's been burnt she feels that fire inside her, pulsing and pounding against veins and tendons and heart strings—

That feeling, whatever it is, scares her again—before she can stop herself she's taken a step backwards, eyes wide and hesitant. "It's me, Artemis." He says quietly, as if she were some sort of animal he stumbled upon in the forest that he's talking out of running back to the safety of the trees. "Don't think, remember?"

Don't think. Don't think.

He waits until she clears her throat and swallows the bitter taste of fear from her mouth once more, chin dropped and eyes surveying unblinkingly before he tries for the third time; now he moves forward even more slowly, a snail's pace compared to before. Vaguely she remembers a game Jade and her used to play when they were kids, a game of Jade's own creation: they would corner rabbits in the school yard, pen them in against edges of the building and frighten them, advancing so close and terrorizing the poor things until they would succumb to fear and die right in front of their eyes; now she's the rabbit and she can feel her heart pounding, can feel her own terror creeping up inside her chest and—

She blinks, exhaling so sharply that Wally blinks at the air she's blown in his face. She's not supposed to be thinking.

His fingers find hers, and for a moment he pauses to squeeze her hand, as if sensing how hard this is for her – he knows her too well, she's always said as much. He doesn't linger long, just resting there long enough so she can commit the sensation of his hand in hers to memory, before his index finger trails upwards, tracing the pattern her veins have popped through the flesh beneath her gauntlets.

His touch disappears at her elbow and she glances down to watch again, his hand leaving her arm and hesitating before taking her waist. She can hear herself suck in a breath, can see his eyes shift their gaze from her stomach to her eyes. He drops his head slightly. "It's okay." He reminds her, his breath warming her lips. Oddly, she believes him.

She feels his other hand press against her side, his grip growing surer and fingers pressing against her muscles—maybe it's easier not to be afraid anymore, not now, not when he exhales and warms her again with the scent of walnuts, not when his thumbs run down the length of her abdomen and settle inside the jutting of her hip bones; not when she can feel the pulsing back between her legs. Not when he steps closer and she fells the strange heat he always radiates off of him. Not when his nose grazes hers and she lets out a whimper so small that he pulls back slightly, treating her as if she were more fragile than glass.

He waits until she has enough nerve to close her eyes (dulls one of her senses and gives him the pleasure of a weakness) before he kisses her.

It's like how she remembers: his lips are warm, burning hot and wet around the edges in his wanting. He's being so careful with her, not kissing her with the reckless abandon he always does—his movements are careful, calculated, his jaw tilting slowly and breathing measured as his mouth prods hers open. All at once he exhales into her, and as the walnut smell floods through her throat she can't stop herself from sighing against him, muscles unwinding at last and pressing against him.

It takes a few seconds of maneuvering before it feels as it did all those other times before; he shudders when she presses her tongue into his mouth, lips moving and suckling against him until her canines have left indentations on his lip. He makes a noise in the back of his throat that feels as if it's coming inside her rather than him, and for once every second thought of wariness or alarm inside her is silent as she reaches towards the back of his neck, her bow slipping between her fingers and clattering to the ground as she pulls him closer.

Wally groans when she pulls at his hair, and when she hears that noise something inside her stirs; it's not feral or violent or animalistic; it's soft and delicate and afraid but most of all excited. It's that part of her that's always wanted him, that's always believed in the best of him and maybe even in herself; the part she's been trying to silence for so long is bubbling up and out of her throat and before she can stop herself she's moaning back, her lips quirking into a smile that he can't see, only feel...

Something crackles in her ear, and when she opens her eyes she sees nothing but black.

All the lights in the city have gone out.

Wally doesn't understand why she pulls back, at least not at first; for a half second he's a mess of clouded eyes and flushed cheeks and he actually ducks his head against as if to reclaim her. Then suddenly the static comes in louder, screeching and shrill in both their ears before suddenly dying.

Radios are dead.

"What's going on?" He asks her, voice no longer low and inviting but sharp in the darkness that's fallen around them. It's deathly quiet around them, no sound except that of ripples of river water crashing against the base of the bridge. In the silence he shifts closer, hands leaving her hips and circling her back, bumping her quiver and pulling her closer, forcing her to turn her face into his neck as if to shield her eyes from something indecent. "What's happening?"

"I don't know." She tells him, positioning her neck so as to peer over his shoulder. For the first time in her life she's afraid to leave his side, as if breaking apart from him is a mistake, a dangerous one; ignoring this instinct, she unwind her limbs, pulling away from him and licking her swollen lips. She doesn't like how quickly all the lights have disappeared, how slow her eyes are to adjust. It's as if it's just the two of them, alone in the city and confined in darkness. "Stay close to me." She adds as an afterthought as she bends to pick up her bow, taking one pace away before reaching out for him, one hand finding his.

Wally chuckles, his laugh a little higher and more anxious than she's used to as he helps her straighten up to a standing position. "Yes ma'am—"

"Team? Is everyone okay?"

M'gann sounds through her head, and instantly she's flooded with reaffirmations from her teammates, the sound of seven voices bouncing between the bones of her skull. "Power is out across the city." Robin tells them, and in the half beat of silence she can imagine him checking and double checking the hardwiring of sensors in his gauntlet. "Wait… It's not out. It's being diverted to another source—"

As he says it she hears something; it's like a dull humming noise from above them, like the sound of a vacuum straining against the fibers of a carpet but much quieter, more deadly somehow… Like a plane, but not quite… Wally's fingers fight hers as she releases him and without thinking she bounds across the pavement of the bridge, feet jumping the guard rail, past the pedestrian side walk and not stopping until she's clambered over the railing that Wally had been sitting on before, limbs climbing and feet bracing against metal beams and steadying her knees against the cross-bar. "Artemis?" Wally calls for her, and she hears him start moving faster when he sees her muscles tense, wrist flexing and popping and getting her bow into position.

"We have company guys." She tells them grimly. She can barely see it in the dark, save for four tiny flashing lights—it's a small plane, maybe a tiny jet—

Maybe a missile?

No...

Her hair whips forwards just as she draws an arrow, Wally appearing at her side as she notches it against her finger. "Something's flying over the Hell's Gate Bridge," He tells the Team. "I can't tell what it is, it's so dark. Artemis—"

She doesn't need him to tell her what to do, and they both follow the arrow she fires into the darkness—She won't down whatever it is but there's a mild explosive on her arrow tip, it'll be what they need to light up the sky just enough— Wally's breath is loud beside her, anxious.

It hits, the sound of metal on metal ringing through the silent city. It's so much louder than she expected, way louder than her arrow on the bridge beam before, but it's not the vibrations of noise that send her knees quaking—it's what she sees when her arrow explodes…

It's not a missile.

It's not even a plane.

It's something bigger, scarier, robotic; whatever it is, there are dozens of them, strapped crudely to whatever it is that's propelling closer.

She has enough time to feel her knees quiver in a childish fright, Wally's hand in the small of her back guiding her back towards the ground. "Wally." She turns towards him, a thousand questions at the front of her mind as other voices rage inside her head, making it impossible for her to focus. "What the hell—How come nobody warned us? What happened to the League?" She starts to say to him before she stops herself. He's tugging his goggles back down over his eyes, squinting at something behind her.

She whips her head to look over her shoulder and now that she knows what she's looking for she can see them: there's are dozens, maybe one hundred more of the strange holding rockets flying towards the city skyline. Those odd humanoid creatures are beginning to light up the closer they get, and before she can do more than feel the slackness in her jaw and the dead weight in her stomach she watches a sea of thousands of demonic red eyes light up in the darkness.

… Whatever they are, they've stolen a massive grid of power…

"Artemis—" Wally starts to say, the voices of the rest of the Team beginning to flood louder through their heads, shouting directions and observations and making it nearly impossible to do anything other than look at each other, confused.

There's a huge quaking at the other end of the bridge, the sound of a collision into a building and city streets being ripped from the ground banging against her ears. Wally is thrown away from her on impact, yelling in shock, as whatever has come to claim the city finds the pavement.

AN: Another chapter up! Please read and review, and remember that the more reviews I get the faster I post updates :)