Disclaimer: Was this show on Saturday morning? Then it's not mine.

Chapter 8

"A disaster," Kaldur'ahm mutters to her as they leave his father's room. "All subjects, including the meta-humans, taken."

"A disgrace that our men could not defeat the rag-tag group," she returns, a sneer on her face.

"Exactly." He glares at one of the subordinate crewman, who lowers his eyes in shame before retreating down the hallway. "Training will have to be intensified. We cannot afford to let such a catastrophe repeat itself."

"No, we cannot." Shooting a nasty look at one of the doctors, nursing a broken arm, she mutters to her comrade, "Let us speak in private."

With a curt nod, he follows her into her bunker and closes the door. The sternness and contempt disappear from his features, replaced with a small smile. "It worked."

A burst of laughter escapes her, bouncing around the room. For four days, guilt and panic and fear had been constant companions, fangs dug deep into her flesh, leaving behind tattered skin and dripping blood as she heard their cries and saw their pain and did nothing. For four days, she questioned everything—the mission, her friends, herself—because maybe what they were doing was right but it still seemed so wrong. For four days, she was Tigress, embedded in the guise to keep herself from slipping, and for four days, she wondered if she would sink so deep that she wouldn't be able to return.

As she throws her arms around her cohort, she knows everything will work out. The captives are free and the mission is on track and she, she is Artemis.

"That went perfectly," she breathes.

"Did you doubt us?" he questions jokingly.

"Well, if you had told me that Nightwing knew all the right hallways to seal, I would have been a little more confident."

"I said everything was on the flash drive."

Shoving his arm lightly, she counters, "Being specific would have been appreciated."

"To be fair, I was not sure if he would be able to use that information without giving away too much to the others." With a small shrug, he continues, "Besides, I know how much you love surprises."

He's not talking like Kaldur'ahm or even Aqualad; he sounds like Kaldur, the Team leader, the big brother, and she can't keep herself from grinning.

"I heard Nightwing cackle," she murmurs suddenly. He'd been at the end of her hallway, armed with explosives, and they had eye contact for the briefest second before he laughed, that laugh from years past, and left her staring at dust and rubble and crackling wires. "It's been so long since he did that."

"I almost thought he had outgrown that," Kaldur admits.

"Same."

She's glad he hasn't because it means some things are still the same. They're not all grown up, not just yet.

"We will be home soon."

He proposes it so casually, as though they're on a vacation and not an undercover mission. She almost doesn't process what the words truly mean.

"What?"

"In a month's time, we will be home."

Crossing her arms over her chest, she skeptically repeats, "A month?"

"You are right; that is too optimistic." Thinking for a moment, he amends, "A month and nine days."

She snorts quietly but takes his word for it; this is Kaldur talking, after all, and she trusts him. "What's the first thing you'll do when you get back?"

Silver eyes cloud with sorrow, and he whispers, "I will beg forgiveness for what I have done."

Her heart twists within her. Reaching for his hand, she counters, "Not like that. Something fun. Something you've missed." After a moment, she continues, "When I'm back on land, I'm going to give Wally the biggest kiss of his life. And then I'm going to walk the dog."

"Walk the dog?" Amusement hides beneath his words.

"What can I say? I'm an animal person and I miss her."

Nodding at this, Kaldur thinks for a moment. "I will spend time with my Teammates. All of them."

"Movie night?" she suggests, smirking. She remembers all the arguments that had over what to watch, the bowls of food and cups of soda scattered haphazardly around the room, the cuddling under blankets and the cover of darkness.

"Yes. And perhaps I will convince Robin and Beast Boy to show me some of the newest video games. I am sure, if they are anything like Nightwing and Kid Flash, that they enjoy them."

"Ugh, you really want to get stuck in video game battles? Those never ended well."

"Connor only broke a controller once."

"But Zatanna ripped one out of the system five different times. Why not something less insane, like—"

"Poker?" he offers, a mischievous tone in his voice.

"Oh, God, no. Not after Wally got all of you guys to play a game of strip poker."

"Harmless fun."

"Because the only one who kept losing was him!"

"He did not seem to mind. And if my memory serves me, neither did you."

Blushing furiously, she mutters, "Shut up."

"It was not as bad as those prank wars Robin would initiate."

"How he managed to drag us into those every other month is still beyond me. Or how we never got into serious trouble."

"Except the time Black Canary found the training arena covered in whipped cream."

Laughing, she recalls, "We got a half an hour lecture and had to clean it all up, which took up the whole day."

"But we were still permitted to go to the fair that night."

"Wally won me that giant teddy bear." She can picture it in her mind, the fluffy ball of brown fur holding an I Love You heart, and she wonders if Wally has left it in its rightful spot on the bed. "And you won the dolphin for Raquel."

"Raquel." He says her name fondly. "I must not forget to congratulate her on her marriage."

Artemis smiles. Even though he could never love her like he did Tula, they had shared something special—walks along the beach, inside jokes, a fleeting kiss on the cheek when they thought no one was looking. Raquel's found her true love, but that doesn't mean she won't be thrilled to hear that her Kaldur is back.

"A month and nine days," she murmurs.

"A month and nine days." Knowing he must get back into character, he heads for the door. With one last look to his partner, he adds, "We are almost there, Artemis."

Retreating to her bed, she stares at the wall, musing. She was wrong—Kaldur and Robin, they're not dead, just a little broken, but that can be fixed with video games and movies and pranks and fairs. And she, Artemis, she's not dead, either. Tigress is only an alias, a disguise. She's not what her father has always wanted her to become. What she is, is a hero, and she's not going anywhere.