a/n: Okay, can you believe this is actually happening? Because a small part of me is still in disbelief over this happening. Okay...so this is a sequel to Timeless! I lost all will and passion I had for finishing writing Timeless, but a few weeks ago I came up with the idea for Limitless, a sequel that takes place a few months after the events of YJ's season 2. I modeled this story so that Timeless wouldn't need to have all the episodes of season 1 written in the story, and so no extra information will be needed (other than reading Timeless) that I won't give in this story. So, without further ado...

Disclaimer: I do not own Young Justice, or DC. All characters and story lines in those respective mediums are owned by their creators. I do, although, own any OC or story line not previously seen in Young Justice, or the DC Universe, and so please do not steal.

| India

| December 7, 2016

| 06:03 UTC

Diana slammed her fist down on the jaw of her prisoner. The man groaned, pulled back his lip in a sneer, and spit blood near her feet. It was only a matter of time before Diana caved in and knocked him out. However, she still needed information, and she was intent on acquiring it before the man passed out on her.

"I'm going to ask you one more time," Diana hissed, holding the man's head up by a harsh yank on his hair. "Who do you work for?"

The man let out a breathless chuckle, "Go to hell."

Diana frowned, "Fine." She delivered a blow on top of the man's head, rendering him unconscious.

The last three henchmen Diana had found were as uncooperative as the last one had been. Something, someone, was scaring them more than she was with her torture. She had been trying to find out who the people were reporting back to, and get them to talk, but so far everyone had been ineffective. This job was complicating every year she spent working on it.

Diana sighed, taking off her blood-splattered gloves. She flexed her fingers, rubbing her eyes as a deep weight settled in her stomach. Stretching her back, Diana took her dagger and whip, and cleaned the blood off of them as well. A flinch escaped her as she placed them next to her gun on her utility belt.

"You want to be dropped off at the pier, or in the lake?" Diana asked the unconscious man, her lip tugging weakly upwards. He didn't answer. "Pier it is."

She took off the man's metal restraints, dragging him off the chair and laying him down on the floor. Diana handled his head with care, not wanting another blow to set in. One punch was already more than enough brain damage for one person.

Running a hand through her short hair, Diana let out a breath before picking the man up and slinging one of his arms over her shoulder. It didn't matter if she had just knocked the man unconscious, Diana was buckling under the weight of him. Inhaling deeply, Diana set to stumbling towards the pier just outside the warehouse.

If the henchmen kept their little charade up, Diana would be forced to take drastic measures. Torturing didn't work, and so killing them would only serve as another unnecessary evil for Diana to hold against herself. The worst part was that she had already followed all the leads she had. All other trails had run ice cold as soon as Diana chose to follow one of the other men. It was coming down to only one other option, and as much as Diana hated admitting it, she might not have any other choice on the matter.

Leveling the man down on the wooden boards of the pier, hidden beneath an upside-down boat, Diana took off running in the direction of her hotel. She jumped up a barricade of crates, all stacked up high enough for her to climb up to the roof of one of the other warehouses.

Diana stood on the roof, contemplating her options. She could leave it all to luck; the henchmen may talk to her eventually. There was something about the whole situation that told Diana it would be unlikely. If these weaker, easier to get at men refused to talk, then it was sure that stronger, more trusted men would only laugh at Diana's attempts.

That left her with one option.

Diana took her phone out of a pocket in her utility belt. The sunrise light caught on the metal of her cellphone, glinting a pale yellow. She hadn't had the time to think about it, but as Diana rubbed her eyes, she took into account the tenseness of her shoulders and the exhaustion deep-seated inside her bones. When was the last time she had slept? Two days ago, if she counted the three hours she scrounged up on Thursday.

Sitting down on the metal of the roof, Diana dialed a number she wasn't sure would still work. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she took off her mask and waited with a racing heartbeat for the ringing to stop.

"Hello?"

A shuddery breath escaped Diana, "Hello, M'gann. Do you think you could contact the rest of the Team? It's important."

"Sorry, but who is this?"

"...It's Diana."

The phone clattered down on the other end.

"Oh my gosh! Diana, what-"

"M'gann, I'll need you to send someone from the Team to my exact location. I am going to text you the address. Ideally, they'll have to be here by tomorrow. Do you think you can do that?"

"Of course, yeah, but why haven't we-"

"I have to go. I'll text the address soon."

Diana hung up the phone. There were a million reasons as to why this whole backup plan would backfire in her face. She could only hope that the Team would be merciful enough to hear her out before she asked them for a favor.