AN: Sorry for the delay in posting. I've entered my university's examination period and it's been hectic to try and find the time to sit down and edit... It also doesn't help that this chapter is over 14,000 words long. Remember those days when I could crank out measly 8,000 word chapters twice a week and everything was so much better?
I know I'm over a week late, but it's December which means it's Young Justice Appreciation Month! If that's what brought you here then welcome, thanks for keeping the fandom alive.
Picks from the playlist this week: Dives by Alvvays, Keep Warm by Ingrid Michaelson, and Out of the Woods by Ryan Adams.
The sound of the slammed door seems to reverberate deep inside her for a moment, much louder and more vile to her than the sound of Roy's gagging as he spews up more bile and stale liquor; for one wild moment she actually considers running after Jade, apologizing, saying something, anything, in hopes of reeling her back into the dingy, dark apartment.
She wasn't brave enough to do it before, and she sure as hell isn't brave enough to do it now.
Like always she stays where she is; she's no different now than she was at the tender age of ten, no less hell bent on keeping their family together than she was before. And maybe it's that kind of loyalty, to what she's not entirely sure, that prompted her father to mark her as weak, as worthless; maybe it's that kind of thinking that prompted Jade into leaving in the first place... After all, if she were anything worth saving her older sister would have done so a long time ago.
She's not really thinking when she hears herself sob, choking sounding in the back of her throat before she can do anything but stop it. Without thinking she rushes forward, grabbing the cup off the coffee table where Jade has left it and throwing it as hard as she can at the wall opposite.
She wants any trace of her sister out of her house; she wants any link to that vile creature with the hardened eyes like molten steel away from her. She never wants to look upon that face again, never wants to crave that touch, that affection; she wants her sister dead, she wants her gone, die die die...
Her breath is ragged before she realizes her own cup is no longer in her hand and there are too many fragments of glass scattered in pathetic looking piles on the carpet. All the anger and fear constricting her throat forces an almost animal sound to escape her mouth; she's just like both the mugs, now more than ever she feels broken, rejected, the same foolish child always one step behind her sister, always rushing around to clean up her empty bottles or scrub her dirty dishes before her parents came home and scolded the two of them... She glares at Roy as he rolls onto his back again, not quite spewed vomit smudging on her couch cushions.
She feels like screaming, like running from her house and never returning. Instead she leaves the room in search of a broom and dustpan.
She gathers the shattered cups and forces them neatly into the bottom of the kitchen garbage bag. She doesn't know why but she takes extra care, covering them with old banana peels and used paper towels, as if afraid her mother will find them and ask questions.
She doesn't know why but after she finishes she hides in the kitchen, a little wary of approaching Roy; she doesn't have a clue what to do, has no idea who her sister has turned him into after so many weeks together. For a long time she stares absently into the garbage can, contemplating the leftovers that went bad in their ancient and only half working refrigerator, wondering what to do. Don't be a baby. She tells herself as her fingers spasm about her chin, pocking absently at the blotched skin that covers her jaw; it's more effort than it should be, forcing her hands to still and crossing her arms nervously over Wally's sweater.
She needs a plan. She needs action, she needs to breathe and think about what Jade's just thrown her into... She needs to review what she knows.
Jade had Roy. Jade brought Roy here.
Roy is a member of the Justice League... As she thinks this her hand twitches towards her pocket, already picturing Oliver's contact name in her phone. The idea feels oddly like ratting a sibling out to a parent which doesn't sit well with her.
Roy is on her couch. And her mother is - she glances automatically at the clock on the stove. Her mother is supposed to be home in 57 minutes.
Okay. Step one is to get Roy off her couch.
She doesn't know why but it's easier to think of what lies ahead of her in terms of steps; as if the fact that there's a specific process she's walking herself through somehow makes the task at hand more manageable, more orderly. Inhaling sharply, she turns on her heel and braves the living room.
She only hesitates for a half second (ridiculously she wonders if she can do this without physically touching him) before her hand reaches out without her permission; Roy grunts when she shakes his shoulder roughly, another long dribble of saliva and vomit trickling from the corner of his mouth and landing in the substantial puddle he's already left on the carpet. "Get it together, Red." She says. "Red." She grunts a bit more firmly, glancing nervously at the clock sitting crookedly on the wall.
55 minutes, Crock.
When nothing happens other than Roy muttering a little vaguely and shoving his vomit slicked cheek more surely against the arm of the couch she feels herself scowling, mentally expanding on her plan. Step one: get Roy off her couch and into the confines of her bedroom. She decides she needs let him sleep off whatever liquor is in his system until her mother goes to bed, then she could wake him and interrogate him and maybe throw him down the fire escape (which she thinks is more than justified. Her and Red are barely friends, let alone show-up-at-your-house-drunk friends. And seeing as there's an actual pool of vomit seeping into the fabric of her carpet and a very real possibility that he slept with her sister she figures she's allowed to have one half decent attempt at his murder.)
Feeling stupid she gets into an awkward slouching position, arms extending before she realizes she has no idea what she's doing. She's lifted Wally before, dragged him clean over her head (she remembers now the ridiculous yelp that had come from his lips, remembers that before she had a clue who he was she had found it slightly endearing: that comical noise and the sight of surprised eyes blinking up from the Bialyan sand even in the seriousness of the situation sending her stomach twisting) and pulled half the muscles in her back in the process. But Roy's a lot bigger than Wally; Roy's a full grown man at the beginning of his twenties, made of muscle and weight designed to be completely inhibiting from where he's collapsed into her couch. But still, she supposes, if she's going to get Roy into her bedroom and keep her mother from asking questions she's going to have to try. Inhaling sharply, she leans forward, looping her arms beneath the hollows of his arm pits and clawing across his back, trying desperately to get a grip on his shoulder blades.
4... 3...
For some reason she starts mentally counting it down, as if she were about to launch him like a rocket into the air; scoffing inwardly at her own stupidity she moves before she's really ready, the muscles of her back and knees not quite in a proper position for the task at hand. She heaves, and for a moment Roy's head lolls back, mouth open and drooling and giving her a view of vomit coated tonsils. She has enough time to snort at the slacken expression that's written there before she feels her bad leg twinge as she rocks her weight onto it, the familiar sharp pain shooting up her spine and seeming to stun even her finger tips.
Her leg is just going to be another thing that's wrong with her, like the scar on her back and the darkened corners of her mind; it's going to be another thing that always lingers, never quite healing right, always hurting, hurting, hurting...
Roy collapses in a heap at her feet as she gasps, and in what she can only describe as poetic justice she hears the distinct sound of a nose crunching into dampened carpet.
Despite the watering of her eyes and the fact that her hands are clutching at her thigh in pain an odd bubble of laughter bursts from her throat, sounding strange and too loud when it mixes with the heaving of her own sounds of pain; for a long moment she listens to it echo off the nearly empty walls (just as foreign to her ear as Jade's had been a few minutes ago,) wondering how long it's been since she made a noise like that in this room, if it ever really happened. Vaguely she remembers the imagined memory on the couch Roy was so recently occupying, her smile vanishing and being replaced by a scowl and renewed anger at her sister.
She kicks Roy's shoulder a little harder than she should with the bulk of her sock clad heel, finding a little too much twisted enjoyment at the grunting noises of distress he makes into his own sick until she finally forces him onto his back, puke sticking against his nose and cheeks. "Yeah, yeah, Harper." She tells him quietly, bending again. "You can thank me for those bruises later." She says gruffly, ignoring her still sore leg and pressing her arms underneath him until her hands are hooked into the shell of his shoulders again. She raises his torso off the ground, nearly dropping him again when she glances at the clock.
48 minutes.
It's slow work, dragging Roy's lifeless body across the apartment, and only leads her to wonder how Paula has managed in her wheel chair these last few months; she's never realized how many jutting corners there are, how many obstacles there are to avoid for someone with limited mobility. Twice she gets the toe of Roy's boots caught around the edge of a table or the leg of a chair and twice she rips it free, so mercilessly that each time she does so Roy lets out a half-gurgling cry of pain.
She's finally made it into the relative easiness of the hallway leading towards her bedroom when she feels the vibration of her cellphone in her back pocket; in an intentionally careless manner she simply drops Roy, taking relative pleasure when she hears the dull clunk of a skull against the floor. She's not quite finished smirking when she checks the caller ID on her phone, her heart stalling when she sees the name Baywatch flashing on the screen. Pointedly she glances down to Roy's barely conscious body, deciding quickly that he's not going anywhere.
"Hi." She exhales into her phone, nearly out of breath from the struggle of dragging Red such a long way. Between her ankles Roy rolls his head on his shoulders, his ear getting caught in the height of the arches on her left foot and folding slightly as he rests his cheek precariously on her sock.
"Hey." Wally sighs back through the speaker. Without really knowing why she imagines his hand is pressed against the back of his neck, the awkward silence stretching between them for a long moment as she cranes her neck around the corner, checking the time. 40 minutes. "So get this. I'm sitting here in my living room, flicking through the TV channels. Guess what movie is on?"
She pauses, listening hard to the attempted cheerfulness of his tone. "I don't know." She says a little warily, eyes quickly dropping when she sees movement out of the corner of her eye; Roy's arm flops a little clumsily onto his stomach, hand trailing up to rub at his face.
"... It's that goddamn Julia Roberts movie. The one from the 1980's? I swear, it's always on. I think there's a whole channel committed to just playing it on a loop twenty-four hours a day."
She doesn't know why but her eyes narrow, as if to scrutinize Wally and his babbling even though he's not here. "... This is why you're calling me?" She says dryly, inhaling sharply when she feels a wobbly hand probing the fabric of her sock, her leg jerking back from Roy's touch when his finger dips into the top of the cotton and brushes too intimately against her bare ankle. "T-to tell me what you're watching Pretty Woman?"
"No." Wally says defensively, and in her mind she sees the hand that's on his neck flying out exasperatedly. "I'm calling to tell you... I don't know. That I miss you? I guess?"
"Wally, we just saw each other yesterday." She sighs, trying to sound annoyed as she hops another step back and away from Roy's hand, still intent on drunkenly pursuing her sock.
"Not like that." She hears the sharp breath he exhales and decides it's in her best interest to get back to the Roy situation– she can tell that whatever Wally wants to say is going to take a while for him to get out properly, and she's already wasted two of her precious minutes listening to him babble on the phone. Bending down again, she forces Red's hand back to his side as it grabs a little questioningly at her knee, wincing as he realizes the pain she's literally kicked into him.
Roy gurgles at her again, thankfully too drunk to quite manage speaking yet; Wally, on the other hand, seems to figure out where he's going with this just as she pinches her phone between her ear and her shoulder, heaving Roy's torso again. "... I don't know. It just feels like things have been weird between us lately. And I'm kind of tired of pretending it hasn't been."
She hears the sound of her own huff into the phone, the puff of air sounding like a dramatic sigh rather than a reaction to Roy's skull flopping back hard into her stomach, blue eyes staring up at her confusedly as if wondering who she is and what she's doing. "Okay." She says distractedly.
Wally hesitates, reading the stress of her breathing and her response incorrectly. "... Remember the first time we watched this together?" He says a little pleadingly.
As if she could forget, she thinks, and she tells him as much. "It was the first time you held my hand."
She can hear herself barely mask a groan, Wally chuckling as she heaves again, pulling Roy much more slowly now that her one side is hindered. "Yeah." He laughs, pausing as if to remember it again. "I just... I don't know why it was so much easier then."
"What was easier?" She asks, trying to sound nonchalant through gritted teeth.
She released Roy just in time, her nose wrinkling as his whole body flings forward, the muscles in his back and stomach clenching and heaving as more gooey remains of liquor and bar food dribble down his front. She's hardly listening to what Wally's saying, her hand reaching up to press against her receiver and blocking out the sound of Roy's gasping to haul air into his lungs. "Everything, I guess? I mean, I knew there was stuff about you that I didn't know, and I knew there was stuff you probably weren't going to tell me. But it just didn't matter to me. I just..." Something shifts in his voice, and when he breaks off the pause his voice sounds lower, more inviting in a way that forces her to listen. "... I just wanted you. Really bad."
She has the sense to remove her hand from the receiver, staring with slightly wide eyes at Roy as he slumps backwards into her arms again. "Oh." She says dumbly, pinching the phone against her neck again and wincing when Roy gags loudly.
Wally pauses, listening hard and no doubt wondering what he just heard; again she can just tell his brows are furrowing, bothered so much by her silence and lack of response that he's suddenly babbling into the phone. "I don't know why I just said that. I mean– it's true– but maybe this wasn't... I'm missing my point. Just... Remember how easy it was before? Can we go back to that?"
"Wally–"
"I mean, not entirely." He amends, as if sensing that she's about to dismiss it. "Obviously I still want to be your boyfriend. I'm just saying–"
"Wally." She says more forcefully, warning him with the urgency of her tone to be quiet. "Look, this isn't a good time, okay?"
"Oh." Wally listens to her heavy breathing, allowing one beat of curious silence. "I uh... Okay. Sorry. Is there a better time we could–?"
Roy's boot catches on the doorway to her mother's bedroom and she pulls him free with an almost unfeminine grunt; she's not quite braced for the impact of the movement, her weight hitting her bad leg in the same spot again as she rocks back, the same unpleasant yet all too familiar strike of pain sounding through her whole body as her back collides against the wall, crying out with a gasp.
"Artemis?" She hears Wally calling her name through the speaker of her phone, her hand barely managing to keep it pressed against her ear as she pants, trying to keep the second strike of pain from blocking out her vision with blackened spots. "Artemis, babe, is everything–"
Roy, having landed flat on his back, looks up at her with blurry eyes, mouth finally capable of forming words. "-Eshire?" He slurs, reaching for her questioningly.
And she doesn't know why but she feels bile rising in her own throat; feels her hatred for her sister radiating through her whole body as Roy's hand finds her knee, thumb stroking almost tenderly against the sensitive point of her knee cap in a way that strikes a whole different kind of pain through her body. He thinks she's her sister and she hates it, hates that he sees parts of that cruel person in her, hates that he can look upon that part of her and still touch her in such a soft and entirely disgusting way...
She kicks his hand off of her, ignoring the way he yelps and instead pressing the phone more tightly to her ear, listening to the sound of Wally's voice and the way he keeps saying her name frantically. "I-I'm fine, Wally." She says into the receiver, wishing it were true. "I just– Roy's here. I don't know how." She lies quickly, before he can pull the truth out of her and force her to relive all the awful feelings seeing Jade has brought about tonight; a larger part of her wants to save him from this, save him from the horrors of her childhood. "I don't know how he got here. He's just... He's so drunk he can't walk. I'm dragging him into my room before my Mom gets home."
There's a half second where the only thing she can hear is the sound of Roy's continued groaning, tears dripping down his scratched and ruddy cheeks. Then, without saying goodbye, Wally hangs up on her.
"Okay, I'll say it." Wally says, glancing up at the Alice in Wonderland poster on her wall and trying to sound teasing. "Not exactly how I pictured seeing your room for the first time."
They both automatically glance down to where Roy is snoring loudly in Jade's old bed, a line of drool dripping down his mouth and seeping into her sister's old pillow.
She shifts uncomfortably from where she's sitting on the mattress, her knees knocking together a little anxiously and colliding with the edge of her bedside table. He's been in her apartment for nearly twenty minutes, moving silently around her floor boards and thankfully remaining hidden when she pokes her head out of her bedroom door to clean up Roy's sick and say goodnight to her now-present mother. She doesn't know why she's so nervous, doesn't know why her muscles are still tensed as if waiting to leap up and attack some sort of unknown threat. She feels as if the boundaries between her old life and her new one are being pressed too closely together, the friction between them no doubt going to ignite before she can properly staunch the heat; she wants Wally out of her apartment, she wants him and his prying eyes away from every dark part of her past should they see something inexcusable, too dirty to be touched.
Wally's sprawled out where she normally sleeps as if he belongs there, his hands folded behind his head and looking completely unbothered by the presence of a drunken Roy opposite them; one of his knees nudges her in the back when she doesn't immediately respond, her anxious eyes fixed on her alarm clock and counting down the seconds until Kaldur will arrive and help them remove Roy. "Sorry to disappoint, Wallman." She says mechanically, pressing herself even closer to the edge of the bed and away from his familiar heat. "... It's not exactly how I pictured it either."
Even though her back is to him she can feel his eyes change focus, can tell by the way he shifts against her bed that he's looking at her now instead of Roy; there's a couple beats of silence before she feels his fingers on her back, running over the pilled fabric that sits there. "Nice hoodie." He says quietly.
"... Souvenir." She forces herself to say, sounding more squeaky than cheeky as she glances back at him over her shoulder distractedly.
Wally simply looks at her for a moment, the crinkles around his eyes fading slightly. "You okay?" He asks, and as if he already knows the answer he sits up on his elbow, the hand on her back gripping the fabric more tightly.
She doesn't quite know how to answer and settles on leaning back into him, her knees pulling up automatically as she folds in on herself, trying to obscure Roy from view. A small part of her feels like crying; feels like pulling him against her and weeping into the fabric of hic jacket, feels like telling him the truth: she's finally seen her lunatic sister and things are just as broken between them now as they've been since she was ten years old. She feels like screaming that Roy and Jade are sleeping together and whining about how disgusting she finds it. Most of all she feels like grabbing him by the shoulders and either kissing him or throttling him, because things between them feel more precarious now than they ever have before, and she doesn't know how to fix it, not without frightening him or overwhelming him to the point that he'll leave her, just like everyone else...
"I'm fine." She says blankly after a few seconds, thankful for the excuse to break eye contact with Wally when Roy lets out a croaky burp in his sleep.
"... I don't get why he came here." Wally says when Roy quiets, both of them now watching him shift beneath the blankets. "He was just on your couch when you got home?"
She hesitates. "Yeah." She lies, thinking of the look Jade had worn when she had watched him sleeping on the couch, thinking of the affection on her face and how it had made her stomach churn. "I don't get it either."
Kaldur arrives shortly, but even between the three of them it takes a ridiculous amount of time to maneuver Roy down the fire escape of her apartment.
"Apologies, friend." Kaldur mutters for the second time as they bang Roy's skull against the railing, adjusting his grip on Roy's shoulders. "Are you sure it is not possible to simply remove him via the elevator?"
She snorts into Roy's chest, the way she's carrying him practically smashing his sternum into her chin. "Yeah, because that's what I want my mother to see. Me parading three boys out of my room, one of them unconscious. Every parent's dream, right there." Behind her Wally snorts back a laugh, uselessly propping up Roy's feet with one arm and hardly doing much of anything to help.
They've just made it to street level when Kaldur turns to her, carrying Roy like a dead body across his back and avoiding her gaze, looking almost accusingly at the fire escape they've just descended. "... Perhaps you should come with us too." He says gravely, making clear it's less a suggestion and more an order than anything else.
She ignores the questioning look Wally fires at her and instead keeps her surprised glare focused on Kaldur, wondering why he's commanding her to leave her home in the dead of the night when she's done nothing wrong. It's beginning to rain, the streets of Gotham damp and soaking through the thin material of her cotton socks.
Kaldur turns his back on her and Wally, stumbling slightly under Roy's weight and ignoring her when she whispers the word "fuck" under her breath.
In this moment she realizes she hates him. But she still follows.
She's told to simply wait when they arrive at the Cave; Kaldur wants to check Roy over for injuries and make sure he doesn't need to go to an actual hospital. She quickly dismisses Wally's offer to wait up with her, not sure if she can trust herself to be in his presence for very long without breaking down and telling him what actually happened. When he tries to argue with her she reminds him he has a calculus test in the morning, and ridiculously he disappears without needing telling twice.
At first she rips through her bedroom like the wind that's beginning to pound against the walls of the Cave; her clothes, still soaked from the Gotham rain are ripped unceremoniously from her body and shoved into a corner of her room, her mind to preoccupied to even bother with hanging Wally's sweater on the back of her chair to dry properly. She doesn't know what Kaldur's getting at, doesn't understand why he forced her to come back to the Cave with him and Wally; as far as he knows she's done nothing wrong, where does he get off... She paces violently around her bedroom once, naked with her skin still prickling from the cold, before she realizes she should get dressed and drags her soaking limbs into a fresh pair of jeans and a tee shirt.
She alternates between trying to sleep and trying desperately to keep herself awake. She doesn't know why she's nervous, she just knows that Kaldur's been behaving oddly since Tula arrived and she's still not entirely sure if they're on good terms on not. At three in the morning she practically rubs her face raw with her own impatience. It's been agony, being this exhausted and being too anxious to sleep; her eyes are bloodshot and incredibly itchy, so much so that by the time she remembers she's still wearing make-up she's scrubbed two massive black smudges from the border of her lashes to the tops of her cheeks. After what feels like hours she finds herself buried beneath blankets with her favorite book, unable to resist the temptation of the coziness of her sheets any longer.
She jolts awake when she hears her door open abruptly, throwing her blankets off her body a little jerkily as if she hasn't just been woken from a nervous half-sleep; stupidly she squints at the bright light of the hallway that's leaking into her bedroom, trying to force her tee shirt to lie flat and unwrinkled upon her stomach. "Apologies." She hears Kaldur murmur, one hand still on her door knob and looking as if he's unsure whether or not to advance into her bedroom. "Did I wake you?"
"No." She lies, sitting up straighter and brushing chunks of her hair out of her mouth. "No, of course not. What time is it?"
Kaldur seems to get the courage to advance a little further, clicking the door shut and blocking out the light in the hall. "A moment or two after five in the morning. I can return later, if–" He cuts himself off, eyes lingering on the smudges of make up. "If you would prefer to sleep."
"It's fine." She says insistently, deciding there's no way to be discrete when she licks the tips of her thumbs, swiping hopefully at the black stains below her eyes. "... How is he?"
Kaldur seems to take his time with answering, crossing her bedroom with even paces and hands folded neatly behind him. "Sober, finally." He says, the corners of his lips quirking upwards in the ghost of a half smile before he promptly forces his mouth back into a serious line. "His ribs and shoulder are bruised and he has an infection in his left eye, I am not sure what from. Black Canary is tending to him as we speak." He pauses, coming to a stop at the foot of her bed. "May I sit with you?" He asks politely.
She doesn't know why the formality of the request bothers her, but it does; she's not used to things being so stiff between them, so distant. The way he's looking at her, as if he doesn't know her at all, makes her stomach squirm uncomfortably in the same way it does whenever she looks at Jade; like she's looking at someone she used to know in another life, on a different timeline.
More to annoy him than anything she shrugs, not giving him the satisfaction of her consent; after a few awkward seconds when he doesn't move immediately she sighs and nods at him, realizing quickly that they won't get anywhere if she doesn't go along with whatever game he's playing. "Yes, Kal, you can sit with me." She drawls out, hating when he nods back at her, satisfied.
He waits for her to pull the covers up over her breasts and smooth the blankets up over her legs before he settles on the very edge of her bed; he's acting as if he's never been in here before, never been this close to her, like he doesn't want to touch her. She catches herself scowling when he presses his elbows against his knees, webbed palms pressing together, joints popping and flexing as she loses him for a moment to his own thoughts. "... I am here to ask you to tell me the truth." He says severely, glancing at her and cutting her off when she opens her mouth, looking annoyed. "I am not finished, Artemis." He says curtly, waiting for her to close her mouth and grit her teeth together angrily before he speaks again. "I am not here for the story you told Wally. You withhold secrets from him, whatever your reasoning for doing so may be. I am asking for the real version of what happened tonight, nothing withheld to protect yourself or... Others."
"Others?" She scowls at him, hating that her upper lip is pulling back and she's snarling at him like she's some sort of dog. "... Roy's been up and talking then, has he?"
"Roy has been babbling in his drunkenness." Kaldur says evenly, glaring just as ferociously back. "... I am waiting, Artemis."
For a moment she just looks at him, disbelieving that of all the people Kaldur is demanding the truth from her; she's always thought of him as on of her best friends, on of her greatest allies, one of the few people on the Team who would always be in her corner no matter what the circumstances were. Now he's looking at her suspiciously, like he has no measure of who she is, as if he actually suspects she would do... something.
Automatically her hands go to the corner of her blanket, clenching tightly around the duvet cover. "... Cheshire brought him to me." She says through her teeth, nails digging through the thinness of the quilt and into her palms painfully. "I don't know how she got him there, because The League is supposed to be watching the apartment." She pauses, blinking once at him as his gaze drops hers and he goes back to glaring at her hands in such a guilty way that her shock and anger immediately flares up. "Wait. U-unless that was lifted without my knowledge? Kaldur?"
... He thinks she's smuggling criminals into her apartment...
She narrows her eyes at him and is surprised when he immediately flexes his digits, hands spread wide and revealing the thin webbing between his fingers. "... That guard was there to protect your mother as much as it was to watch the both of you. I requested to have it lifted, once your intentions were clear and Sportsmaster was in prison."
"And you just decided not to tell me? It would have been nice to have a heads up, Kal." She snarls. "You do realize that it's not just me who depends on that type of security? My mother's in a goddamn wheelchair. And Cheshire has proven herself to be a threat time and time again–"
Kaldur scowls at his hands, looking properly angry despite the fact that his chin drops almost guiltily, cutting a sharper line between the thickness of his neck and his jaw. "We are not here to discuss my secret keeping, nor my reasoning behind it." He reminds her.
"Like hell we aren't!" She bursts out, nearly yelling. "And what about after you saw the security footage of Cheshire kidnapping Roy? It never occurred to you that she could very easily do that to me too? Or my mom?" She says accusingly, glaring more ferociously at him. Kaldur hesitates, as if trying to find the reasoning that's hidden inside his own head, and in his silence she finds herself flaring up at him even more. "So what, now that I'm no longer a suspected mole my life isn't worth saving anymore–"
"Artemis." Kaldur cuts her off before she can even finish, looking stern. "You know that is not true. Beside, Cheshire never kills her victims–"
She snorts in Kaldur's face. "Oh, how comforting. Silly me, it's not like the last time she was there she tried to stab me in the stomach or anything." She snarls, and against her better judgments she actually kicks out underneath he blankets, enjoying the way he jerks in surprise when her foot collides with his hip sharply.
Kaldur looks at her, clearly furious and struggling to keep his temper under control. "... You are more than capable of taking of yourself."
"I know that." She says through gritted teeth. "But what about my mom? What if Jade had snuck up on Paula? What if..." She cuts herself off, remembering the last time the two encountered each other and how bloody it had been. "... Kaldur, you can't just do stuff like this and not give me a heads up. She's my mom, she's..." She pauses again, closing her eyes pinching the bridge of her nose. "... You're supposed to be the fucking leader of this Team, Kal. Start acting like it."
When she opens her eyes she can see him noticeably stiffen, no longer unfocused in his anger; his milky eyes are sharp, glaring at her dead in the face and immediately she knows that she's over stepped a line. "Excuse me?" He says, voice deadly low and no longer his usual welcoming tenor.
"I–" She starts, immediately quailing and forcing herself to scowl. "You heard me." She snarls, finding courage in the affronted look on his face.
Kaldur opens his mouth once before closing it, looking furious. "It is not under your realm of authority to question mine." He says lowly, seething. "If you have an issue with the way I run this Team, I suggest–"
"Of course I have an issue with the way you're running it!" She bursts out, sitting up straighter against her headboard. "Kaldur, what the hell has been going on with you lately? This isn't like you; you don't tell me anything anymore, you're going behind my back and not letting me know when security measures that keep my mom safe are lifted... What the hell, I mean, it's like ever since..." She trails off, and as if he knows what she's about to say Kaldur's eyes suddenly leave hers, his glare now focused on the wall.
There's a second where she actually thinks he might hit her; all the muscles on his tattooed arms are popping wildly, his shoulders tight as he balls his flexed palms into fists. Then all at once he's exhaling sharply, doubling over a little pathetically and burying his face in his hands. "I..." He begins, swallowing loudly. "I have been foolish. Please–"
"Kaldur." She says sharply, cutting off his apologies. "Kaldur, tell me what's going on."
He hesitates again, lifting his head from his hands and looking troubled. "My head is being played by a foolish heart. I am sorry, Artemis. I..." He pauses, finally looking at her again. "Tula said something, when I had told her what happened tonight. It was not meant to be taken seriously but in my haste–"
"God, Kaldur." She snarls dryly, bristling at him and curling her fingers tightly against her blanket. "You're kidding me." She stops, by now so beyond annoyed with him that she can't speak for a moment. "... All this because of Tula? Do you even... I'm going to–" She sighs, shaking her head and deciding it probably isn't smart to go around making threats he knows she's more than capable of enforcing. "I thought we were close. I thought you were... I feel like I don't know you anymore."
Kadur frowns, going back to glaring at the floor. "I am sorry. It was foolish to suggest—"
"Like hell it was foolish!" She snaps at him, glaring when he continues to look forlorn at the ground. "… We're supposed to be friends, Kal. You said it yourself, on this Team we trust each other." She snarls, finally feeling better now that she's voicing all the thoughts that haven been buzzing angrily in her head every time he avoids her questioning looks. "What happened to that? Did it even mean anything to you? I've been fighting beside you for months, I've risked my life time and time again on your order, and still... And all because if some stupid comment made by a dumb Atlantean girl who's been here less than twenty seconds, if that's enough to undo—"
She's never going to earn anyone's trust; she's always going to be mauled to pieces and just be scattered, broken bits of bone left over from her childhood... She's never going to get over it, they aren't either, she's destined to live the rest of her life in exile–
To her surprise Kaldur gets to his feet abruptly, glaring down at her in a way he's never done before. "Enough. I have already apologized. I am leader of this team, Artemis. You are not to question my reasoning."
Instead of backing down from his barking tone she catches herself rising to it, the stress of the evening's events souring her mood; suddenly she's on her feet too, snarling at him as her blankets crumple in a mess atop her mattress. "Someone should!" She bursts out. "These days I hardly see you, let alone know what you're thinking. You don't come to training anymore, no, your lovesick ass is too busy running after Tula—"
"Artemis." He interjects warningly.
"—Hoping Garth won't notice what you're doing. It's disgusting, Kal. He sees it, we all see it, why do you think he won't leave you alone with her for a minute—"
"That is enough." He says darkly, and this time she gets the sense that she's finally pushed him a bit too far, his face malevolent and twisted and unlike anything she's ever seen his features wear before.
Suddenly her voice is dying in her throat, annoyance still at the forefront of her mind despite not being brave enough to say anything else. Instead she inhales and exhales twice, her bloodshot eyes blinking rapidly at the floor. "… Sorry." She says to the carpet, not meaning it.
"It is forgiven." He says stiffly back.
She's never really fought with Kaldur and she can already tell she hates it; hates that suddenly for the first time the air is tense between them, so much so that it actually makes her lungs ache when she inhales and exhales again, trying to calm down. "... I'm sorry, Kal, that was out of line." She says sincerely. "That was—I didn't mean it. I just… You haven't been yourself lately, and I miss you. I've just been wondering what's going on."
When she finally gets the courage to glance at Kaldur he's still looking at his feet, looking troubled and still slightly angry with her. "… I have not been myself lately. That is true." He admits, crossing his arms over my chest. "I know I have been distant… It has not been easy, having Tula and Garth around. I believe I was mistaken, thinking it would be a good idea to have them close, especially when Tula is..." He pauses, looking up at her. "I believe Tula is suspicious of the nature of our relationship. I know it has seemed like I have been pushing you away, and perhaps I have." He adds the last part weakly, looking ashamed. "I am sorry if my judgment has been marred by my desire to..." He trails off, his cheeks darkening.
"Kal." She says his name weakly, not sure what else to offer him as her cheeks redden, silently willing him not to finish that sentence.
He seems to get a lot more out of the word than she does, his head nodding in acknowledgment as he sits back down beside her. "You are right, about the lovesickness. It has been… distracting, and clearly inhibited my judgement." Finally his milky eyes find hers. "I apologize for insulting you, for being suspicious and for whatever other ways I have hurt you. You have my word that anything I have broken or undone will be fixed."
She's a little off-put by how quickly the fight has been resolved; she doesn't know why but she'd been expecting him to drag it out, to keep yelling at her in the same way Wally would had she said something similar to him. A little confusedly she licks her thumb again, still scrubbing at the smudged make-up and blinking up at him confusedly. "...Okay." She says warily.
If he notices her wince when he reaches for her hand he ignores it, cool skin wrapping around her wrist and pulling it from her face. "Again, Artemis." He says, clenching her hand between both of his. "I am sorry for my mistakes. Your forgiveness and your patience with me are..." He smiles at her weakly, releasing her. "... You will pardon the question, but I have never had a sibling to fight with. Am I correct to assume that it feels something like this?"
For some reason, despite seeing her sister and still feeling raw about it, she catches herself trying to grin at him. "Well, you know. Mine were always a bit bloodier."
And it's easy, the way it always is with Kaldur; in an instant she can feel the direction of the conversation changing, can feel the lightness that's always there returning, and even though she still hears the stickiness and vileness of the words they've just said to each other echoing inside her mind she no longer feels like it matters. And maybe that's why she's been feeling so anxious lately; Kaldur is her best confidant, her closest friend, losing him to the invasion of Garth and Tula had been awful; maybe now things will start getting better...
"Come." Kaldur says for a moment, tugging gently on her hand. "There is something I must ask of you."
"What?" She asks warily, letting him lead her towards the door.
For some reason Kaldur dons a very uncharacteristic smirk, making a gesture for her to lead the way out of her bedroom. "Let's call it a gift, to make up for my behavior." He says slyly, finally answering her questioning look after a moment. "I have decided to allow you to be present when I question Roy."
She feels her mouth twist into a slightly malicious smile, the knowledge that Red has just spent the last few weeks sleeping with her sister churning somewhat disgustingly at the front of her mind. "Goodie."
Kaldur leads her down one of the more abandoned hallways in the Cave. She knows that the medical bay is in this part of the building but that's about the extent of her knowledge; this area of the Cave is so far gone from their bedrooms or the actual living quarters, there isn't much of a reason to enter this part of the building save for their own frank curiosity.
She doesn't thank Kaldur when he opens a seemingly random door for her; She supposes the hallway they're walking down is filled with conference rooms exactly like this one, each painted with identical grey walls that match the carpet. She has enough time to take in an vast amount of chairs, her eyes scanning the length of a long mahogany table before they stop moving altogether, pulling in matching flops of ginger hair.
Wally looks up when she crosses the room in too quick paces, taking in her messy hair and smudged make-up with slightly wide eyes. "Babe." He says in greeting, standing as if out of respect for a general rather than his girlfriend.
She ignores him entirely in her annoyance with the situation, instead focusing on the other figure and just now remembering the mess he had left on her carpet back in the tiny Gotham apartment. "Red." She sneers in greeting, pulling up a chair beside Wally.
Roy doesn't respond immediately, still looking a little drunk as he lifts a glass of water from the table. There's a stiff moment in which he avoids her eye, Adam's apple bobbling as he swallows clumsily, some liquid spilling over the edges of his cracked and chapped mouth and dripping onto his tee shirt (which she realizes with a jolt is Wally's– the words Keystone High are stretched too tight across his chest, ill fitting) before he smacks his lips, placing the now empty glass back on the ring of moisture he's left on the table. "Artemis." He says back evenly.
She wants to beat him senseless, and if knowing what she's about to do Wally places his hand on top of where hers is resting on the table, affectionately squeezing but effectively pinning her against the wood. Noticing the movement Roy raises a brow. "When did that happen?" He asks dryly, looking pointedly at their hands.
"A lot has happened in your absence." Kaldur says evenly before either of them can respond, closing the door behind him and walking in even paces around the table. "Perhaps if you tell us of your happenings we will tell you of ours."
"You say that as if this isn't an interrogation." Roy snorts, switching his wry gaze from Kaldur to the two of them. "Any reason why the two brats have to be here?"
Wally ears redden. "Dude, I carried you down a fire escape." He says darkly despite his relaxed position in his chair. "Pretty sure that gives me a right to know why."
When Roy's eyes turn to her she scowls. "You puked on my carpet, asshole."
Kaldur takes a seat opposite Wally. "Roy." He says warningly, ignoring the way Red winces at the use of the old name. "You get a choice of being interrogated by us or the League. I do not believe I would be wrong in saying that you are getting the better end of the bargain here."
She doesn't blame Roy for suddenly sitting up straighter, doesn't hold fault to the nervous muscle that jumps in his cheek; it's times like this, when Kaldur speaks so slowly and so dangerously, that remind her why they elected who they did to lead the Team. She smirks when Roy's hands reach out nervously to play with his empty cup. "Start from the beginning." She sneers.
They all watch as Roy spins the glass in one clean rotation, smearing the line of condensation he's left behind further into the table. "... The beginning." He repeats a little hazily, almost half snorting– she has the distinct impression that there's still a little bit of alcohol in his system, blurring his thinking. "... I guess I just got tired." He says frankly, the tail end of his sentence trailing off into a wry chuckle. "I was living with Ollie after New Years. He kept trying to have Black Canary round for dinner..." He looks over at her imploringly. "You know Ollie. He won't let anything sit. He kept wanting me to talk about emotions and other crap..."
"Yeah, I know Oliver." She admits dryly, remembering what she went through when she thought Jade had been murdered by her mother.
Roy finally releases the glass, one hand running across his forehead and pushing his overlong hair out of his face, gradually growing more serious and less sarcastic as he does so. "I got out on my own in Star City. Made sense, going solo for a bit, just to help me get my head on straight. It felt good, too. You know, having a couple drinks, beating in a couple petty criminals' faces... Like I was useful. And then..." Roy pauses, glancing at her as if for help.
Wally and Kaldur both look bemused as Roy trails off, eyes drifting towards her again almost nervously. Taking pity on him she decides to finish his sentence. "... You found Jade." She says quietly, Wally's fingers tightening on her hand.
"No." Roy says, sparing their hands another glance before he runs his palm over his face, wincing when it touches his bad eye. "Cheshire found me." He sighs, looking despaired. "I thought I was going crazy. I'd think I was being followed, kept thinking I was being watched, kept hearing weird noises in my apartment at night or seeing faces in crowds... I didn't even make it two weeks until she finally decided it wasn't fun anymore and cornered me. She told me she had some information about Speedy, that she'd be willing to give it to me, in exchange for..." He trails off, something lecherous in his tone not prompting any of them to ask for clarification. "She told me that there was something of interest at Cadmus."
Beside her Wally shakes his head. "Bats and the rest of the League cleared that place weeks ago."
"I know." Roy grits out between his teeth. "I know, I don't know why I... But Guardian and I went, we swept every inch of all the fifty-two levels, even the ruins of Genomorph City... Nothing. But I had promised Cheshire. And I had to go back to her."
There's another pause in which she actually feels her stomach churn, not quite up to meeting Wally's gaze when he glances at her. "It wasn't that bad." Roy says after a while, looking over at her. "She's okay, your sister. A little rough around the edges. She let me talk when I wanted to but kept me from wallowing. Could have been worse." He says a bit gruffly. "Everything was so hectic in February, what with what happened in Metropolis. Cheshire started manipulating the tracker GA put on my gear to make sure they fed fairly usual locations, made it seem like I was keeping a regular schedule. Although I doubt he was checking; he was too busy in the hospital with you."
There's an odd note of jealousy in his voice and without thinking she looks up, a challenging glare on her face. "Oh gee, Roy. I'm sorry my almost dying hurt your feelings." She sneers. "Why did you leave, anyway? Decide you wanted to come home and stake your own claim on Ollie?"
"No." He says back almost defensively. "I just... I got tired, again, I guess. Tired of hiding and not knowing what was happening. But... Cheshire didn't like that." He says the last part quietly. "But she was ready for me. She'd been saving something just in case I tried to run out on her, or tried to leave... It changed everything."
There's a long pause in which they all stare at him, his voice breaking when he speaks. "Guardian is a clone too." He says severely, fingers back to anxiously spinning the glass. "Cheshire broke into Lex Luthor's office weeks ago, way before the Metropolis attack, stole the intel as a means of control, she was trying to get me into staying permanently... She had a little USB memory stick that told us everything we needed to know. Guardian isn't even a clone of my– Speedy's uncle, Jim Harper, he was made from Speedy's DNA just like I was, just forced to age up longer... While the real Jim Harper is rotting in an unmarked grave somewhere."
She has enough time to exchange a worried glance with Wally before she nearly jumps out of her seat; Kaldur's back to his authoritative voice, loud and commanding in the chair opposite. "Where is Guardian?"
"In hiding–"
"Red." Kaldur says seriously, placing a palm on Roy's shoulder. "You must help us find him. We need to get him to Miss Martian so we can cleanse any Cadmus programming from his mind, he could pose a serious danger to himself and the rest of the League–"
Roy shakes his head, looking troubled before he buries his face back in his hands. "I don't know where he is, Kaldur. After we found out we both ran; we both wanted to just get away from each other and Cheshire, I haven't seen him in weeks..." Roy trails off, emerging from his hands. "I've barely contacted anyone. I've just been trying to hide from Cheshire; she kept messing with my GPS signals, making it impossible for the League to find me and impossible for me to run... It doesn't matter. You guys saw the rest. I've been... living with her in her apartment in Gotham the last few weeks."
"How did you get away though?" Wally interjects.
"She let me go a couple days ago. We were at each other's throats... Kind of hard to enjoy the sex when you're screaming in each other's ears, you know?" He says gruffly, smirking slightly when she grimaces. "I just wanted a drink, wanted to clear my head, and I ended up at a bar."
Wally's hand tightens on hers. "And you just happened to stumble onto my girlfriend's couch?"
Roy blinks confusedly for a moment, and across the table Kaldur glances at her. "I... No. I got into a bar fight with a couple Gotham burnouts. Cheshire found me and brought me to Artemis', she knew she'd be able to contact the League."
There's a half second where Wally's hand goes so tight on hers that she actually sees her skin whiten, the blood now pumping quickly through her veins failing to reach her finger tips. She cringes when Wally's head swivels towards her, glaring. "... Jade brought him there?" He repeats, voice dangerously even. "... You saw Jade?" Wally watches her open and close her mouth for a moment, looking furious. "Did you just forget to mention that to me?"
Before she can stop him he's violently let go of her hand, knocking his chair out from behind him and storming out of the room. "Wally!" She calls after him a little too late, the door already slamming shut behind him.
No. No, no no no no–
She turns back when she hears a snort break the silence, Red looking at her meanly across the table. "... You're a filthy liar just like your sister, aren't you?" Roy says almost teasingly, as if to break the tension.
She almost punches him clean in the jaw but manages to stop herself when Kaldur sends her a stern look. "Excuse me." She snarls, chasing after Wally.
She leaves the room and immediately has no idea which way to go. She has no clue which way Wally went; she's completely unfamiliar with the layout of this part of the building, the empty hallway not even giving her the hint of ruffled papers or any other articles shifting from the movement of his running. Blindly, still in a bit of a haze from her anger at Roy and herself and worry for Wally she turns right, sprinting.
"Wally?" She calls, coming to another cross point; she hardly glances down the right, which she can see is just another long stretch of blank walls and doors. She smells cool, fresh air and hears the thunderous slamming of waves against the shore to her left, and without a second thought she charges onward, moving so quickly that she clips her shoulder on the edge of the archway.
She wishes they had just gotten up and left when Roy asked them to leave, wishes she hadn't heard what had been happening in the months since the New Year. Most of all she wishes she had trusted that instinct, the one she felt so compelled by in her bedroom with Wally; she wishes she had told him sooner, hadn't lied to him, had allowed herself to cry and be comforted... It's just the same old story again and again, her running and him play catch up, after all this time nothing has really changed and she hates it, she hates herself... The hallway widens and she realizes she's in the air hanger; she looks around a little confusedly until she spots the emergency exit, red light flashing above it and signalling that it's recently been opened.
The wind whips her the end of her pony tail against her cheeks when she emerges outside, her own hand impatiently unsticking the ends of her hair from the surprisingly wetness leaking out of her eyes. She doesn't have time to be crying, doesn't have time to panic or be a child about this; she needs to focus, she needs to find Wally, she needs to figure out what she wants to say to him that could possible stop him from walking away.
She's in the small grove of trees that conceals the opening of the air hanger from prying eyes, the small collection of trees and bushes and brush fading out towards the right as the grass changes into the sand of the beach. She can feel her own anxiousness beginning to bubble at the back of her throat, strangling her, making it difficult to breathe, and she doesn't have time to succumb to that part of her, not when every second Wally wanders away from her is another moment where he gets closer to leaving her– she'll never catch up, he's gone he's gone he's gone and she hates herself–
She allows herself a fraction of a moment to blink the blurriness and hair out of her face; the wind is still whipping around wildly off the water, the first few rays of morning sunshine trying and failing to burst across the horizon almost stomped out in the storm unfurling along the ocean. It's in these few rays of half-light that she sees him; he's only made it a few paces pasts the boundary when grass begins to bleed into the sand, hands in the pockets of his jeans and shoulders shrugged up in the unexpected cold. She's loud, clumsy with her movements, her feet so careless when she moves towards him that she's kicking up sand at the backs of his knees, unsurprised when he turns around to look at her, eyes narrowed.
"Wally–" She starts, cutting herself off when her voice breaks unexpectedly in the face of his glare, the absolute hatred she sees there sending her lips quivering embarrassingly. She doesn't know what she needs to say to him, doesn't know how to express all the feelings and thoughts whirring around in her head; she can feel the familiar grip of her own anxiety as it closes in around her throat, constricting her air flow and making it impossible for her to breath even with the blast of wind rolling off the water and slapping her in the face.
"You lied to me." He says severely, glaring at her harder when her chin wobbles pathetically. She doesn't know why but she doesn't even try to argue, her mouth closing more firmly and blocking out whatever avoidance she's planning on making. There isn't a point in deny him, not when she can hardly even look at him anymore, not when he's wearing that expression on his face; in the more distant parts of her mind she can hear the old memory of a sai clattering against tile, can feel the same overwhelming dread bubbling up in her stomach and choking her now as it did then.
Her silence doesn't comfort him; if anything it makes him angrier, his feet advancing a few steps until he's practically bellowing in her face. "So what? You're not even going to look at me?" He yells, ducking his head and trying to catch her eye. "I don't even get to hear why? Artemis?"
"I don't know, okay?" She bursts out, wincing when he lets out one bark of malicious laughter.
"Okay, I see how it is–"
"Wally!" She can't stop herself from screaming his name, not when she sees his muscles shifting as if he's about to sprint from her; without thinking she reaches out and latches onto him, her nails digging sharply into his forearm and leaving two long, almost bleeding scratches when he jerks roughly out of her grasp. "Wally, just listen , okay? It just– It just seemed like it would be easier, you know? I just care about you so much, I don't want you to see that part of me, I want us to only have good things together–"
"That's not what a relationship is, Artemis!" He snarls at her. "God, I don't want that, I don't– I don't lie to you, Artemis. And how many times do I have to say it– I want to hear about this things! I... You don't have to hide, okay? I want to know, I don't want this to be just another thing you compartmentalize and only take out when you need some cheering up, I just–" He pauses, and in the half beat of silence the wind howls around them; for some reason in this moment she feels the coldness of the air seeping into the bottoms of her feet, reaching through the soles of her boots and chilling her to the core. "... Unless that's what this is? Just another secret for you to keep? Something to distract you from... Is that why we had to carry Roy down the fire escape? Because your Mom doesn't know about me?"
The honest answer is yes, but she can't seem to bring herself to say it. "I'm sorry." She sobs, hating the way he looks away from her tears, as if they disgust him.
Wally shakes his head at the ground, shoulders hunching up as the air around increases in speed again; suddenly the wind is whipping his too long fringe into his eyes, making it impossible to read his expression. "I know, Artemis." He sighs, shoving his hands in his pockets again and sounding utterly defeated. "I know you're sorry. Just..." He hesitates, as if debating the horribleness of what he's about to say to her. "I'm just wondering how much longer this is going to go on. This whole trying to protect me from stuff thing. Because, if I'm being honest... It lost its charm a long time ago, Babe."
The wind screams around them again, so loud that he can't hear the tiny sob that bubbles up out of her throat as the invisible fingers clenching there offer a moment of release. "What do you want me to do?" She asks after a second, wondering if he can even hear her mumbling. "I don't... I don't–"
"I know." He cuts her off, still glaring. "I get it, Artemis–"
"Do you?" She bursts out, finally get the courage to fight back. "Because I don't think you do."
Even in the dim light of the early morning she can see his ears redden. "Then explain it to me!" He yells back, one hand pressing against his forehead and pushing his bangs back. "If you don't think I get it then help me understand, okay?"
For a long moment she looks at him, her breasts heaving as she struggles to force air through inside her, struggles to keep her brain focused; she can feel it, the overwhelming sensation of anxiety beginning to take hold of her, beginning to drag her below the surface and drown her and she can't, she can't explain it to him, can't talk to him, she doesn't know how she doesn't know how to–
She hears herself draw in a rattling breathe, the salted taste of the ocean on her tongue for a moment before she feels herself withdrawing; like a turtle back into its shell she feels herself shutting down, feels the anxiety take over and put up her best defense, forcing all the overwhelming emotions into an almost numbed silence. She no longer cares what promises she made to herself or him, she can almost hear the voice inside her head, the one hissing frantically Artemis doesn't run anymore, not from Wally; before she can stop herself she opens her mouth, voice as stiff as her prickled skin in the wind. "I'm cold." She says mechanically, turning her back on him. "I'm going inside."
She doesn't even make it one complete step before he grabs her, his palm slapping on her shoulder and tugging her roughly backwards; the force of the movement nearly topples her, her whole weight slamming backwards onto her bad leg as he twists her, the lightening strike of pain sounding from her heel to the backs of her eyes, almost blinding her. She hears herself gasp out half in pain and half in shock, the blur of her own anxiousness disappearing like the spots in her eyes as they pull Wally's reddened and furious face into focus.
(and the apple eyes she so loves are unrecognizable; there's nothing familiar in the anger she sees there, no unexpected flecks of gold calling back to her, reminding her she's safe)
She can feel the muscles of her biceps bruising as she clenches her, beginning to shake her, his finger nails breaking the exposed skin of her arms as her head rocks back violently. "Don't you dare–" He snarls (and suddenly she isn't fifteen anymore– she's eleven and her father is shaking her, her teeth are chattering as he's swearing at her, calling her worthless;) and just as quickly she's looking at Wally but not really seeing him– the force of his shaking makes her bite her tongue and before she even thinks twice she's pulled her knee up and into his stomach, hand ready when he doubles over to slap him with every ounce of strength in her body.
She can hear the sound of her palm against his cheek, can hear the smack of skin on skin way louder than she can the sound of ocean water crashing against the shore, but nothing, nothing, is loud enough to drown out the noise that comes out of this mouth (it's that same goddamn noise she heard in her high school gym, the one that makes her sick to her stomach and somehow forces her to suck in a rattling breath, sounding like a deer in the woods that's been shot clean through the throat, blood and saliva and oxygen gurgling and spilling from the wound...) The force of her blow sends him stumbling back a few feet, his neck twisting so far to the right it looks as if it will snap, relentlessly making her to look at the rapidly reddening mark she's left on his cheek.
Seething, still not quite herself, she sends a piece of hair that's fallen in front of her face fluttering as she hisses at him, teeth bared. "You do not get to touch me like that." She snarls. "You aren't ever going to do that again."
Wally finally turns his head back to her, eyes so wide and scared; she's no longer the creature he's trying to coax out of the woods, she's the wolf who's cornered him, who's just snapped at his leg and torn through the tendons and muscle... She's hurt him, finally hurt him, in the way she's always been afraid to do. Suddenly, as if her own fear is somehow sobering her, she feels herself come back; feels the way her fists unclench and how cold she is, inside and out... She can't help the way her expression cracks as the horror of what she's just done washes over her, the wrinkle over her nose is disappearing and her lower lip is quivering and she can't stop herself from closing her eyes, wanting to block out Wally and that look of terror and erase it from her memory forever. "Oh my god." She whispers to herself, and without knowing why the only logical thing she can do is allow her knees to give out.
Wally doesn't move to comfort her; her hands are shaking, still stinging from hitting him as she scrubs her fingers over her cheeks, pulling at the hair around her face and trying to frighten the panic that's over taking her into hiding again. She feels as if she's a boat out on the water in front of them; she's barely afloat, waves crashing over her edges and threatening to drag her below but she can't capsize, not now, not when going under means dragging Wally with her. She hears herself gasp and gag on oxygen as she drags it into her system, limbs winding tightly together and locking her against the ground– she won't move, she's never going to move, she's never going to be okay...
"... Artemis?" She hears Wally say quietly from a few feet away.
She presses her forehead to her knees, trying not to sob. "I'm sorry–" She chokes out. "I... Just give me a second, please." She forces herself to focus only on her breathing, the way he taught her weeks ago. In and Out. In and Out. In and Out, together...
Wally is patient enough to allow her ten full seconds before he speaks again, sounding anxious. "Babe? ... Can I come over there?"
"No!" She bursts out, pushing her head further against her legs, hands dragging through her hair violently and ripping the elastic from her tresses. "Don't, Wally, I-I can't–"
Wally ignores her; she hears the sound of sand being kicked up, and a little more wildly than she wants to she lifts her head from her knees. "I'm serious!" She says desperately, legs unfurling as she scuttles clumsily away from him. "Please, Wally–" She sobs, no longer too proud to beg when he advances on her, jerking backwards until she's on the slight bump that signals the change of sand into grass; she can feel her palms as they scramble in the dirt behind her, half balancing her weight and half clawing into the ground, as if trying to force her to get a grip. He makes it as far as crouching in front of her before she kicks out her foot ridiculously, boots catching him in the chest like it did days ago, forcing him to keep his distance.
"Artemis." He says her name seriously, gripping the heel of her boot and fighting with her to remove it, both of their muscles tightening and jerking until he pries it off his chest. "Babe–" He forces her thighs to part for him, and almost hazily she feels that old heat flaring up, the kind that would be so hot and wanting and much more pressing is she wasn't so upset; he's on his hands and knees, leaning over her and looking like he's just stumbled upon a kicked mutt skulking in an abandoned alley way. "I'm sorry, that was–"
It's his touch to her thigh that does it; it's so soft, the feeling of his hand rubbing small, reassuring circles nearly an inch below the scar they both know is there. Suddenly she's shaking and sobbing and entirely herself, no longer that storm of violence that attacked him; all she wants is him closer, comforting her, and without her permission she loops her leg around his hip, trying to pull him closer. "I'm sorry." She chokes out, coughing and sputtering and trying to force herself to breathe. "That... I don't even know. It's just... Dad used to..." She trails off, and finds she's not brave enough to finish the sentence. "I'm so sorry, Wally."
He looks at her, face still hard; she's waiting a little childishly for him to kiss her, for him to comfort her, for him to press the wetness of her tears into her cheeks and pull her into his lap. Instead his mouth opens, voice low but still almost cold. "... What did your Dad used to do?"
It catches her off guard, the sternness of the question, the way he rocks his weight backwards so he's no longer hovering between her legs. The way it's phrased sounds like an ultimatum, as if should she not give him an answer he'll get up and leave without glancing back. "You know what he did." She says almost pleadingly, voice breaking. "... Don't make me say it, please."
She doesn't know why but admitting it aloud, admitting that her father used to beat and terrify her, admitting that he used to dig the points of javelins into her neck and shake her until she thought her own blood would dribble out of her ears... It would make it more real, in some way. It would mean acknowledging that he beat her until a part of her broke, it would mean giving him some power over her, it would mean that the scars he left on her body would define her again.
Wally's eyes are narrowed at her but he's no longer angry, no longer glaring; instead he seems to be watching the process of her own thoughts behind her head, watching her own hesitation push itself out of her mouth, forcing her lips open and closed. There's a pause, a moment of silence so loud and so awful that she actually wonders if he'll to allow her to put herself out of her misery and sprint towards the ocean to drown herself. "... Come on, Artemis. Please? We aren't going to make it if you're always keeping me at an arms length."
She wasn't aware of dropping her chin and glaring at her knees but suddenly her eyes are wrenching upwards, focusing hard on his face. "... You want us to make it?" She says warily, almost skeptically.
Wally's ears blush crimson, bleeding into the pink light beginning to leak through the clouds on the water. "I... Yeah. Of course I do." He nods, as if reassuring himself. "I mean, it's not like I've picked out names for our kids or anything but... I don't know. I've taken bullets for you, Artemis." He says seriously, her stomach clenching tightly painfully tight. "Seems kind of stupid to pretend otherwise."
She doesn't know why but this resolution, not matter how small, makes up her mind for her.
She can feel her skin prickling from the wind still, the flesh on her cheeks feeling raw and red from the beating it's taking from the iciness of the breeze; rather than look at the intensity of the look on his face she slouches back onto her elbows, watching the movement of the clouds atop the water and allowing the breeze to flick her hair in front of her face. "... He was a shitty father, okay?" She blurts out before hesitating, wondering how best to explain how she feels to him. She doesn't have a plan, doesn't have a direction to talk in, not when she swore months ago to never tell him about this part of her past.
"I went through a lot, growing up. He didn't really... He didn't care about us, the way Mom did. We were just another tool for him to use, another face to point a gun at, another warm body he could throw in front of his own if the cops ever got too close." She pauses, spitting her hair out of her mouth. "And... And I don't know. I did what I had to survive, especially after Jade left and there wasn't anyone left to stop him. The stuff he made me do, it... I had to destroy parts of myself, had to turn things like feelings off, because if he saw anything there he would try to take it from me."
Even though she's not looking she can sense Wally staring at her, can sense the way his attention is now focused solely on her and trying to catch every word above the howling wind. "I don't want to talk about... Specifics, okay?" She adds hastily. "There's not a point in analyzing every beating. They didn't have any rhyme or reason any way." She pauses as he shifts, pushing himself between her knees again. "But... Look. Before you, I-I never really planned on switching anything back on. And after a while I thought that this was just who I was... Cold, and that there wasn't anything else there... And now you're here and I just feel like I'm two different people, and the part that's with you is just getting her bearings and... She has to learn how to do everything again, Wally."
She runs a hand over her face, pushing her tangled hair off her forehead and trying her best to look him in the eye. "I'm not trying to be difficult, I swear. I just... I thought that part of me was dead, Wally... You're pulling stuff out of me that I don't know how to deal with, I'm not... Trained for it. And you're so sweet, and so caring, and I just... I don't know how to react to that. You're just going to have to be patient with me for a bit, okay?" She feels herself shudder into silence, waiting with almost baited breath to hear what he's about to say.
She flinches when his hand cups her cheek, thumb touching her softly as if wary of frightening her. "I'm sorry." He says quietly, tracing the outline of her lips. "I-I'm... God, come here, you're freezing." It's only when he says it that she realizes how true it is; all her skin is goose pimpled, her nipples taught and popping out against the thin cotton of her tee shirt, her frozen skin shivering and forcing her breaths to come in shuddering gasps that have nothing to do with her recent crying.
For the first time in her life, her instinct is to move closer.
She doesn't fight him when he tugs her upwards, hardly allowing her to sit up fully before he pulling her legs around his waist, his limbs folding like a cage around her. She can feel sand seeping into the folds of her jeans, can feel the hot point between her legs pressing against his belt buckle, but for once in her life she doesn't struggle for control, doesn't try to stop the way he's pressing her head into the joint of his shoulder, her arms winding around his neck and half wishing she could bury her whole being into the flesh coating his walnut flavored bones.
"Do you feel better?" He asks after a moment, hand pressing her loose hair against her skull and holding it there, his lips barely brushing her ear. "After talking, I mean?"
"... Not really." She says, even though it's not entirely true.
Wally sighs, chest shuddering against her breasts, his arms tightening around her. "I know I shouldn't keep pushing you." He says quietly, both of them blinking when the wind picks up her hair. "It's just... It's hard for me too. I'm not used to having to slow down for someone, if that makes sense. You're going to have to be patient with me too."
Something inside her tells her to pull back, her arms loosening around his neck as she looks him in the eye. "... Okay." She says vaguely, eyes dropping down to look at his lips.
It feels like the kiss on the Watchtower all over again, his lips soft and almost hesitantly pressing against hers as if they're never once traced the opening of her mouth before. It's not rushed, not frantic; it reeks of better things to come. Most of all she tastes gentleness, feels the way his arms cradle her against him as if his whole world is stretched clean across his lap, and despite the sweetness of the moment she pulls back, wondering why she ever thought this would be easy.
The wind blows again, still cold as ever, and as if they've been waiting for it a few new rays of light burst across the ocean.
AN: Another chapter done! I'm going to try and update as much as possible during exams but I can't guarantee anything right now, which is a shame. Regular posting will for sure resume after the holidays.
A quick Q&A–
Q: Is Wally a virgin?
A: Yes. While answering this I was considering revealing who on the Team isn't a virgin but I don't want to spoil my own story. You'll have to wait for some of those answers, but it might be funny to hear some of your guesses in the reviews!
Q: Are Wally and Artemis ever going to have sex?
A: Hey, it says "rated M in later chapters" in the description for a reason! Keep in mind that this story spans the whole 5 year gap between season 1 and 2; there's plenty of time for these two to jump into a bed (besides, the build up is half the fun, even if it does get me a few red-faced reviews along the way.)
Please read and review!