Artemis was numb. Suspicion spread through her like a wildfire. The house was never this quiet when she got back. She was running, but everything was detached. The television was muted, the light illuminating the figure in the room. The standing figure. She had just gotten back from the mission to Santa Prisca, had just hung up the shadow of her father forever. The shadows stretched through the room, only highlighting the dark colors of black and blue and red and enhancing the lighter ones like the pure white. She hadn't been able to wait to tell her Mom. The light seemed to bring out every horrifying feature and Artemis wished for the dark. Hadn't been able to wait to tell her she'd had escaped. Artemis had never believed in nightlights, the shadows had welcomed her just as much. But Artemis should have known that you could never escape. Not the shadows, not the past, and not the light. And she could only stare at her mother's dying figure. You could only run, run from your mother's pleading voice telling you to flee, from your father's piercing words and spikes, from the red on the floor, and on her mother and covering everything and it should be gone, she was gone, why was the red still there and it was spreading why was it spreading, why couldn't she get away from it….?

Artemis only looked up as a voice exclaimed her name and she saw Barbara Gordon standing in the doorway of her apartment, confusion etched on her face.

"He- He killed her. Why did he-? She always- Where will I-? He killed her…" Artemis' voice trailed off from her disjointed mumbling and she was still shaking and pale and her grey eyes dazed. Babs was worried. Her father was gone, on call in another city for a Gotham related crime. So she did what she could. Fishing out her phone she guided her friend to the couch and set her down before calling the speed-dialed number.

"Hello?" a voice answered.

"I need some help. Artemis needs some help."

"I'll be there in a few minutes."

. . . . .

The black car pulled up and Babs gently pulled Artemis toward it as Dick Grayson stepped out and came forward to help them in.

"What happened?" He asked his tone more serious than many ever saw as Dick Grayson.

"I don't know, I thought it might be something more for your other side of the spectrum, but if you don't know…"

"Then it happened after the mission." He finished grimly. After they situated themselves in the car and Alfred began to drive he pulled out his own phone, dialing quickly and putting it to his ear.

"Bruce? I'm sorry you were busy, but you need to know this and we need help… No it can't be delayed…. It's Artemis, something happened… I need you to check, did Sportsmaster escape?" Dick tensed minutely at the response. "He was most likely involved then… She's in a state of shock; we are coming to the Manor… No she doesn't know… Okay, see you in a few minutes." They were at the Manor before they spoke again.

"Should we wake her up again?" Dick looked down at the girl then shook his head.

"No, we can carry her in, I have a bad feeling about what happened and if it's right then I would want to stay asleep too."

Alfred held the door for them as they carried the unconscious archer inside and then guided them to a guest bedroom. Bruce entered a few minutes later.

"What happened?" He asked immediately, his eyes going first to Artemis then Dick and Babs. Babs spoke first as Dick was looking through various security feeds.

"When she came to my apartment she was muttering about how someone, a male, killed a woman. Well, how could he. And why," She added as an afterthought. Dick finally looked up.

"Bruce, come look at this." He said quietly. A video began starting with Artemis flipping to the ground from her window. A few minutes later a blue shadow came out with a white mask on.

"Sportsmaster," Bruce growled. The man on the screen waved mockingly before slipping off, but Dick didn't change angles he just paused it and pointed.

"Look," Because the only thing you could see was an overturned wheelchair highlighted eerily with the light, the only shadows now dancing on the edges.