Artemisia paced around her room, playing with the shirt that had been in her hand for minutes. She was too distracted to continue packing. Dianna had a hypnotizing way with words, even when telling the silliest stories. Thanks to Bruce's training, her captivating abilities became her nature, entrancing anyone who heard her voice.
"So I took her to this old bar to test if she really meant it. Not a peep. She was relatively nice and quiet. I think she didn't trust herself if she opened her mouth. Anyway. Thing is, she overheard these two henchmen talking about Crane. They seemed from different parties, so she suggested we listened in.
"There is this mobster who isn't happy with Crane calling the shots. Valeska Nox. The other henchman then reveals his boss doesn't like it either but he's afraid to stand up. Most of their fucked up committee fears Crane and Red Hood but they don't hate them. So they won't do anything about it."
Artemisia took the teen's pause to take a seat in her bed. Her fingers caressed the fabric of her shirt. "So how does one take advantage of that situation?"
"Like I said, they're scared." Dianna's grin could be heard through her words. "They won't act directly against Crane. They can, however, forget to delete secret messages, talk a bit too loud in public places. . . we can exploit that fear, exchanging information for control over Gotham. Of course, we wouldn't hold up our part of the deal."
"Did you tell this to Kory?"
Dianna hummed. "Blackfire did. She needed to clear her name. We convinced Kory to follow our leads. I was going to join them but I can't dirty my image by being seen with crime lords. I'll do something productive for the city, instead, and visit compromised families after last night's vicious attacks."
"Let me know if you need anything."
She took a second to breathe. The line crackled as she shifted the phone closer to her mouth. "Just be safe. Anyone who takes his drug, become violent, careless. It doesn't matter how they behaved before. Trust no one."
After saying their goodbyes and see-you-laters, Artemisia finally dropped her shirt. She glanced around the room. She still had a few belongings to pack. She began by folding the rest of her shirts, a few sweaters, and socks. Next were her weapons, saved in a long, foldable organizer. Two were missing.
She dropped beside the bed, searching under it. Nothing. A kick in her shin forced her to jump to her feet. Milo grinned at her response. She leaned on the doorframe, arms folded across her chest. "I love the idea that you and this dick are fixing your relationship, but remember this isn't a vacation. We're here for work."
Picking a dagger from under the dresser, she shrugged. "We haven't been doing much."
"You haven't. I've let you off the leash for now." Milo pushed away from the door and fished a blade from under her pillow. Artemisia had hidden that just in case. She gave a thankful grin, packing it along with the others. "I expect you can drop what you're doing when we need you."
"Of course. May I ask what you've been doing?" Milo's mouth curled into a scowl. She could only counter it by beaming. "So we're on the same page."
The woman found her way back to the door, studying her face. She was considering. . . considering if Artemisia would spill her agenda to the Titans. As if she were that stupid. Milo sighed, giving in. "I've been gathering friends, meeting people, making deals. I have a meeting in thirty minutes with a friend of yours."
"Jason? He's dangerous. Unpredictable."
Milo scoffed. They were trained assassins, not some angry teenager with a gun. "I can take care of myself. And no, it's not Jason. His boss. Crane."
"You can't be serious. He's a criminal. He's insane," Artemisia snapped back. She couldn't be considering joining forces with a man like Crane. The League had partnered with psychopaths before and things had taken a dark turn. Who's to say history won't repeat itself?
"He is also controlling half of Gotham from the shadows. He's powerful. Resourceful. Lady Vic was kind enough to connect us before she left."
"Who the fuck is Lady Vic?"
"She. . ." Milo's eyebrows were drawn together, lips pursed. She eyed her with mocking intentions, making her feel stupid, inferior. "She's the one who killed those surgeons at the hospital. You guys never figured her out?"
She gulped. The name didn't ring any bells. The team would have told her if they knew. Figuring out Crane's upcoming move had taken over their minds: they'd forgotten. "I guess not. But doesn't it worry you that someone capable of doing that works for Crane? That only means he's crazier."
"I won't refuse this opportunity. He's your team's enemy," Milo reminded. Keep your two lives separate. "To us, he's a future ally, an asset."
"Just don't help him harm the city." It wasn't member of the Titans Artemisia that pleaded ( she would've found a way to sabotage their meeting ). It was Artemisia Robin Lee, preoccupied citizen, who asked. One didn't have to be a hero to know when a city was in danger.
Milo sneered. "It's against protocol to attack a city when a squad of assassins is placed there. He won't be destroying the city under our watch."
"A squad of Assassins? It's just two of us."
"Not anymore. There are dozens of us, now. And more are on their way."
Artemisia knew what this meant. They'd seize control of Gotham. They needed all units available to survey the streets, keep citizens calm, or force them to stay submissive to this new power. "Don't you dare─"
"You can't tell me what to do. Continue playing superhero. But when I give you the call, you'll walk among us, celebrating what I've achieved today." Milo took a step back, glancing around the room. "I'll let you finish. Don't mute your phone."
She blinked at the woman. She shook her head, pushing away any empathizing thought. Her hand came to rest over Milo's shoulder, forcing her to face her. She gave a gentle squeeze. "You're right. I'm sorry. Being around heroes made me forget how we made things. Thank you for trusting me."
Milo faked a smile, she didn't attempt to make it believable. Her hand slapped hers away, looking at it with disgust. Without another word, she walked out of the room. Artemisia watched as she picked up a jacket, her sword and stormed out of the motel, not bothering to say goodbye.
She stayed in silence. Milo's car revved and sped away. Artemisia didn't move from her spot, verifying the woman had truly gone away. She counted one minute before rushing to her bags and closing them up. Everything was packed and ready to be transferred to Wayne Manor.
Artemisia fished the phone from her bed, opening a special app Dick had installed in their phones. Live location. Tracker 230. Before her eyes, Milo's route appeared in a purple line. She hated having to do this. If only Milo could understand that Crane was insane, she would help her. She wouldn't have to plant a tracker in her jacket after pretending to be okay with the League's terrible plans.
The worst part was keeping this secret from her team, too. It would generate mistrust. If she did it with Milo, her trainer, what stopped her from doing it to them?
After some minutes ( ten ), Milo came to a stop. A tag popped over the blinking dot. Snowy Cones Ice Cream Factory. The woman did not leave the location for the following five minutes. That was the meeting place.
That's where they would find Crane and Red Hood. But they would find Milo, too, and tie it with her. She couldn't risk that. Milo needed to stay clear so she could stay clear.
She would have to wait until Milo left that place.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
Artemisia felt uncomfortable standing before the building this late at night. She felt like a cheater.
She'd known this location since early that morning. Rather than exposing it then, she had found the time to move into the Manor, organize her room, take a shower, and dine with them. Only after that had she checked the tracker. Milo had fled the site. She had gone back to the motel.
After ensuring the woman wouldn't get her in trouble, Artemisia had called Kory with the intel. It was under the pretext of Milo discovering his hideout and exposing it. Her move had been useless. They had already found him out and were prepared to head out.
"Looks like we made it in time for the party," Kory commented as she gazed at the dozen parked vans before them. They could only estimate the number of people that were waiting inside. Either way, they wouldn't be enough to stop them. They were settled in bringing them down tonight.
Artemisia pinpointed the mechanical snowman waving at bystanders. The dots connected in her brain. "Wait. . . this was Mr. Freeze's hideout, wasn't it?"
"Yeah," Gar responded before the Gothamite could even process her question. The boy blew raspberries, fixing his jacket for the upcoming fight. "And now Crane stole it for himself."
"How come it's still open?" Conner wondered.
Dick tested his escrima sticks by smacking them together, sparks flew in the air. "It wasn't his place, he started living here for the cold environment. Owners had nothing to do with it."
Artemisia adjusted her knives in place, pulled her zipper all the way up for the cold, then began stretching her suit. By her side, Garfield began doing the same. It was freezing out here. Maybe they should move their missions toward the afternoon when there's still a little sunlight to keep them warm.
"Hey, Marge just checked in. She won't make it. The hospital is packed with victims from last night and she has to stay," Kory informed as she put her phone away.
"If it's just us, then we better get going."
They shared a firm nod. As if previously planned ( they could swear over their lives it wasn't prepared ), they split up into three groups. Starfire and Blackfire went through the left, Conner and Krypto pushed their way through the sky. Garfield, Dick, and Artemisia rushed in from the right. They wouldn't evade their attack.
As they rushed through the shadows, passing around oblivious henchmen, Garfield deviated from their group. Artemisia was about to hold him back when Dick grabbed her wrist and dragged her toward a crate. They climbed it in seconds, finding themselves over the metal roof.
Crane's giant operation appeared miniature from there. She could lift her leg and squash everything under her boot.
Dick snatched a tiny device from his utility belt and began toggling with it. Instants later, the alarms of every parked vehicle began beeping. Dick chuckled, proud of his work. Artemisia nudged him with a toothy grin. That was impressive. She'd have to get her hands in one of those toys.
He passed her a grappling hook, pointing at a distracted guard. Aiming their weapons in synchrony, they pulled the trigger. Her heels dug onto her footing, fighting the force of momentum. The guard groaned as she forced him into the roof, knocking him out with a precise punch in his skull.
By her side, Dick was working on a second victim, utilizing the remaining surprise factor. Artemisia brought some of her devices into the field, tossing smoke bombs toward the ground. Thick, crimson smoke drowned every figure.
She leaped off the roof, landing over a guard. Her surroundings were red. She couldn't see past her nose. But she could hear. Ragged breaths, crackling electricity, cocking guns, footsteps. . . She jumped on the two guards before they could take her by surprise. A cold smack under the chin. A kick in the groin, in the back, then slamming their face on the cement.
Bullets cut through the haze. Artemisia dropped to the floor, crawling her way toward the shooters. To get left, she heard Dick's attempt to stop the shooters, distracting them long enough for her to move between their feet unnoticed.
One hand covering mouth and nose, the other sneaking around the neck. She gave a sharp move, toppling the guard, debilitating him. The man was rendered unconscious in twenty seconds. She moved on to the following one. Twenty-six.
Sneaking toward the third, a fourth figure materialized among the fading red. Artemisia raised her arm, a wall of ice shielding her in time. Acting impulsively, she knocked behind the third's skull, their body folding on her feet.
Scowling herself for being irrational ( that simple blow could've been murderous ), she tossed another device on the ground. The synthetic colors were purified from the atmosphere, their surroundings visible once again. She saw how Dick stunned the remaining guard with a shock to his stomach.
"Not bad," she teased. Her fingers stretched in the air, a blob of water floating through the distance between them. It splashed against his cheek, healing the cut in his skin. Dick licked his lips, it either felt like it was in slow motion or he did it really slow and noticeable.
Kory stepped beside them, ruining any chance of further teasing. Their attention turned to the elephant in the room. The shortwave positron multiplier doing exactly what Conner had predicted. Crane was manufacturing more of that drug that turned people carnal.
"You thinking what I'm thinking?"
"Yeah. Stand back."
Artemisia and Dick stepped away from the woman. Kory prepared herself, dragging his fist back, then punching the air forward with a grunt. Fire erupted from her hand, combusting with the machine's chemicals. It exploded before their eyes.
And just like that, Crane's operation was done. It wasn't near enough to what they'd suffered, but he'd soon feel it. He would regret messing with them.
Garfield came sprinting in their direction, breathlessly signaling the main building behind them. "We've got some people running away."
Before everyone could follow behind the boy, Dick stopped them. "We'll handle them. Let's go." His eyes bore into her, so she pursued the pair.
The trio stormed into the building. Toppled chairs and tables, burnt paper, spots of blood. A trail. It went across two more rooms, then stopped behind a door. Dick scanned the area around the room. The only way in or out was that door. They were trapped.
Preparing themselves for another fight, Dick signaled Gar to open the door. The moment a sliver of light appeared, they jumped inside, weapons in hands. Four mobsters stared at them, curses slipping past their lips. They seemed lost.
The woman at the front was smart enough to drop her phone, raising her hands in surrender. The other men followed her lead. It wasn't every day that one could witness a handful of crime lords handing themselves in.
"Sorry, can't take any chances," Artemisia said with a shrug. She snatched a wire from her pouches, looping it around the four criminals. She tied them tight, tying them onto the door hinges so they couldn't escape. The mobsters didn't complain about her acts.
And before anyone could, Kory wandered into the office area through the break room. She scratched her head, glancing around the empty place. "Building's all clear. We missed Jason and Crane."
Locking the criminals in the cramped room, Artemisia turned to Dick. "Should we track them down?"
He didn't take a second to think. He'd planned their future, how they would go down. Giving them the pleasure of a car chase was not in his schedule. "Let them crawl away, lick their wounds. We'll catch them soon enough."
Dick stormed out of the building. Gar hesitated to go after him. Both women looked at each other, then at the teen. Kory wrapped one arm around him. "We'll find Jason. Don't worry."
They walked into the open in silence. Gar was disappointed they hadn't come face to face with Jason, allowing him to help his friend. Kory felt empathy for the boy, rubbing his back in comfort. Artemisia, though not cold toward Gar's feelings, could only find herself thinking about Milo. Maybe now the woman would see an alliance with Crane was a mistake.
Their long faces faltered when their eyes landed on Conner. He was handing ice cream cones to the team, sharing his contentment. He stepped in their direction, offering a cone to Kory and Artemisia. They took them without a thought. "This is so sweet. Thank you, Conner."
Conner continued handing out cones, not forgetting to slap a few dollars near the ice cream machine as he finished.
Once everyone had been gifted a freezing treat, they packed into their vehicle. As always, Dick was driving, turning a blind eye on a couple of speed limit signs. Kory had taken the opportunity to phone the police and inform them of the situation. The rest retold their versions of fights and how they'd attributed to Crane's demise.
They reached the upper city in five minutes. The Manor grew bigger, and their cones smaller. The excitement did not wear off. They had, after all, destroyed Crane's operation. It was a major setback and a win, something they'd been lacking. They'd thought nothing would make them feel better. . . until they saw Commissioner Gordon waiting for them inside the home.
Barbara moved closer to the team. She was radiant, excited for their giant blow on Gotham's biggest criminal at the moment. "Great work out there. I was watching the whole thing. You just gifted an entire Department a good night's sleep. Congratulations."
"It's a shame the Commissioner won't be getting much sleep since she's invited to the celebration," Gar suggested with a grin.
"You guys are celebrating?"
Dick glanced around the team. None of them looked tired. They remained euphoric after the glorious battle. Sleep wouldn't cross their minds for the next hour. "We are now."
The celebration took place in the kitchen. They had a short time to change back into their everyday outfits. Some were lucky and could remove their suits in a blink, others could only remove them halfway, disguising it by throwing a shirt or jacket on top.
When they reunited by the counters, Gar was serving them a great variety of snacks as Dick pulled out a pack of cold beers and passed them around. The man stopped before her, clicking his tongue. "I forgot you don't like beer. I can prepare you something fancier in Bruce's office. Wanna try?"
"You're a bartender, now?" She gave him a teasing grin. He'd gone from recommending stuff to drink straight out the bottle, to offering a handmade beverage.
"I know my way around a few cocktails."
She leaned away from the counter, leaving barely an inch between their bodies. "I'd love to try some."
"We'll be right back guys, don't drink too much without us," Dick announced over his shoulder, a hand on Artemisia's back as he guided her out of the room. They wandered past hallways and forgotten rooms, dim lighting, and twinkling bulbs until they reached Bruce's office. It was nothing special, books, a desk, a fireplace, and some alcoholic drinks to help a businessman work.
Dick began picking the liquids, studying labels, working out the perfect drink he could offer. Artemisia watched him move around, focused. She rested on Bruce's desk, where he soon joined her with four bottles and a glass.
He began pouring and mixing. "Did you finish moving in?"
"Yup," she said with a contagious grin. Her tongue clicked against her teeth, catching his attention again. "Would've been a lot faster if you hadn't taken Conner with you, though. No one helped me carry my bags upstairs. But other than that terrible misfortune, everything's fine. I picked the room next to Kory's. Fingers crossed she doesn't bring anyone over."
Dick snorted at her comment, throwing his head back to emphasize his reaction. Artemisia struggled to glance away, focusing on her loose laces. The sound of pouring juices directed her view back to his hands. "You know, I lived with playboy Bruce Wayne. Never heard a noise. You'll be fine."
"That's disgusting. But also, he might have done it while you were out."
His face fell with realization. Shaking his head, he raised the greenish beverage he'd formulated. "You know what? Let's stop talking about this. Here you go. Let's head back." He handed her the drink, giving her a moment to study it before he started placing everything back into its place.
Artemisia jumped off the desk, following his shadow back toward the kitchen. The drink was minty with a touch of sweetness; it all blended with the smell of beer, chips, and apples ( Conner's sole snack ). Someone had taken the liberty of playing contemporary rock which was barely audible over their laughter.
Her eyes studied the quartet of teens. Dianna must have heard the commotion and couldn't help her curiosity. Her hair was messy, tied into a bun in an attempt of controlling it. Smudged makeup darkened her under-eye, making her look tired. Dianna wouldn't want her to ask for her wellbeing in front of the team, so she kept to herself, turning to the boys, instead.
"Gar, I hope you're on your first bottle."
The boy removed the bottle from his lips, wiping away the beer that moistened his mouth. "I am."
"Good, 'cause you won't be getting another one. Same to you, Conner."
Conner held up his hands, half-eaten apple in one hand, a full beer in his other. He pointed his finger at Dianna. "She's on her second."
"Oh, you're asking to be punched."
Conner scoffed, puffing his chest as he crossed his arms over it. Dianna stepped closer to him, unafraid of the half-Kryptonian. Unfamiliar with their usual bickering, Barbara rushed between the two, glancing around the kitchen. "I think it's time for a toast. Dick?"
Holding back a smirk, Dick stepped forward. "I read GCPD's report. Three hundred thousand nebulizers destroyed. Crane's whole operation. Plus, a dozen of Gotham's mobsters in jail. And a few in the hospital."
"Thanks to Krypto," Garfield reminded.
Artemisia laughed with the others. She pictured a missing member with their arms folded, unhappy with the news. We're overloading the hospitals! "I'm not sure Marge will like that."
"Still, not a bad night."
"It will be better when we bring down Crane and Jason. They're on the run now. They're getting sloppy. That's when we win." He took one good look around. Proud faces that could crumble if he didn't choose his next words carefully. He hoisted his bottle into the air. "But good work. Cheers."
"Cheers."
They took a swing out of their drinks, rasping at the sensation of glory mixed with alcohol. A truly dangerous blend.
"I'm gonna hit the road. Back at it tomorrow," Barbara excused herself, steering her wheelchair away from the circle. Dick made a move to join her. The woman held her hand up, stopping him. "It's okay. I know the way. You kids have fun. Goodnight."
"Goodnight," they responded in a chorus, waving at Barbara as she exited the room. Her absence didn't turn down their energy. In a second they'd moved on, investing their minds in something new. Dick was the only one that remained thinking about her.
"Hey, Conner, catch."
A bottle cap flew across the air, turning over more times than they could keep count. Conner followed it with his gaze, eyes growing wide as it came closer to his face, shadowing his nose and. . . it landed between his brows, barely balancing as he punched the air in victory.
Kory retrieved her own lid, tossing it into the air above her, testing weight and resistance. "Okay, my turn." She aimed the cap, tossed it towards the teen, and missed. It plummeted into Artemisia's drink. "That's disappointing."
"I wanna give it a try," Gar giggled as he walked over the breakfast counter, snatching Dianna's old bent metal. He didn't aim, didn't plan, didn't think. He launched the cap in the air with a dream. His face morphed with a giant grin as the crumbled object smacked Conner's forehead and settled by his hair. "I take that as a win! Who's next?"
The teen offered a lid to Dick, but he was turned down. Dick glanced over his shoulder one more time, excusing himself as he marched out. Artemisia took the cap, positioning herself between Gar and Kory. A silly game created out of boredom had not been in her training, yet Artemisia mastered the shot as though her life depended on it. Another round of yells filled the kitchen.
The game entertained them for a couple more minutes, in which every one of them had managed to land the cap a few times. Kory had found such a simple task to be impossible, so when the woman finally managed something remotely close to their achievements, the group went wild. The younger members began jumping around Kory, shaking the woman with their excitement.
"Hey, watch it. You just elbowed my boob." Dianna shoved Conner out of the hoarding group, a hand cupping her breast.
"No, I didn't."
"Uh, yes you did. It still hurts." The teen's gaze snapped to Blackfire, who had been eyeing the strange situation. The alien's eyebrows raised at the eye contact. "You saw it, right? He elbowed me."
Blackfire's nails drummed against the glass of her empty bottle. She looked at her sister. Kory shook her head. Conner's and Dianna's glare became more intense. She shrugged. "It looked painful."
Conner huffed. Kory and Artemisia shared a look. Sure, the arguments between the two could only last three words and then they were back to being friends. But with Blackfire's involvement, they didn't know how it would turn out.
Artemisia wouldn't stay around to find out. Kory glared at her as she placed her glass over the counter very slowly. Kory could handle the situation, she just needed to get Blackfire out of the way. And that was her problem. "I'm gonna go to the bathroom real quick."
She dashed out of the kitchen in seconds, ignoring Kory's calls. Her feet directed her toward the guest toilets down the hall. She skipped past the dark hallways, fearing the ancient nature of the Manor. Something caught her ear. She froze. Don't be a ghost, please don't be a ghost. Tracing the source she found herself standing before Dick's bedroom.
A moan. Oh no. Not a─ another.
She didn't need to think much. She knew exactly who was on the other side of that door. They hadn't seen Barbara's car drive away. She was in there. With Dick.
No. No. . . This couldn't be happening. They were. . . they were nothing. Friends. Barely even that. He had just started to trust her. But they were. . . they were something. They made each other happy. Made everyone happy. Or was it just her? Had there really been a connection? Had she imagined it all? What if, to him, she was just a fun time?
The noises were louder than her thoughts, screaming into her ears. She couldn't take it. She sprinted toward the bathroom and slammed the door shut. It went quiet. Too quiet, leaving her alone with her treacherous mind.
Every single touch, every single word, had it been less than she imagined? Shared coffees, snuggling and watching TV, constant flirting during missions. To her, it was everything, a clear sign they wanted one another. He was fooling around. No strings attached. A game between two friends.
Her chest felt tight, heavy. She ripped open her jacket, trying to catch more air. It didn't help. She wanted whatever this was to be over. She wished to be in bed, distracted with a movie, maybe have some company─ Dianna or Gar. They could watch comedy, maybe horror, and converse throughout the entire thing, insulting characters and relationships. She wanted to be there. Her safe place.
A knock on the door forced her soul to return into her body. Her skin tingled as she turned on the water, splashing her face with coolness. The knocking continued. She stared at her reflection with trembling lips. She could do this.
"Can't have five minutes without me?" She choked out with a fake laugh. She flinched at her tone. Was it believable? There was no response from the other side. Should she say anything else? No, no. Her voice would betray her. A sigh fled her lips as she heard them walking away.
Her head rested against the wooden door, cursing under her breath. She could have handled things way better. Locking herself in the bathroom was childish; confronting the pair was the adult thing to do. Except that it sounded easier in her head. She wouldn't have been able to mutter a word, making a fool of herself.
She opened the door, not giving it further thought. If she wouldn't face Dick, then she'd face the rest of the team as punishment. Be better. As she sauntered down the hall, an engine started outside, soon driving away, allowing silence to reign in the Manor once again.
Barbara was gone. Because of her. Guilt didn't simmer in her stomach as she'd expected. Satisfaction; she disliked the feeling.
Kory noticed her looming by the entrance, sending her a welcoming smile. Artemisia didn't attempt to return it. The woman scanned her face, her beam fading in a flash. "Everything okay?"
"Yeah. Just. . . tonight finally sank in. My head's starting to hurt. I'm gonna hit the bed."
"Goodnight." Dianna waved from her spot next to Conner before turning back to their calm conversation. Kory seemed to have handled it well.
Artemisia glanced at them dreamily. They were having a great time. They deserved that, and so much more. Four faces passed through her mind. Marge, Dawn, Hank and Donna. . . they deserved to enjoy life, too; spend time with their friends, laughing, arguing, playing, appreciating each other's company in silence. All that was ripped away from them. They shouldn't be gone.
Catching a tear threatening to spill, she sighed. "'Night."
AUTHOR'S NOTE
you guys don't seem to like chapters focused on Dianna but I still wrote the next one on her pov so deal with it lmao
please give my girl a chance🙏🏼🙏🏼