A Bloody Development

By the time they touched down on the department's roof, Artemis' mood had significantly improved.

She was with her team, the morning sun was peeking through Bludhaven's smoggy cloud cover, and her earlier anger had (mostly) dissipated. Things were looking up.

Her good mood lasted for all of forty-five seconds.

As she stepped out of the bioship, her eyes snagged on the cracked cement where Nightwing's grappling hook had rooted itself the night before, and then her calming breathing exercises and newfound positivity went out the window.

She reluctantly followed the rest of Young Justice into the precinct below, wishing they were anywhere but here.

It's not that she disliked their case or the commissioner, it was more so that she'd likely do something stupid and possibly violent if she saw Grayson right now.

Fortunately—or unfortunately, depending on how you looked at it—the complete and utter chaos of the police department served as the perfect distraction.

Young and senior officers alike were running willy-nilly, faces pinched into a varying array of angry puckers and panicked grimaces. Papers were flying and people were stomping as they tried to restore some semblance of routine.

At first, Artemis wondered who'd pissed in their boots. Then she remembered that Nightwing hadn't just attempted to slit M'gann's throat; he'd also robbed the precinct.

She supposed their anger was justifiable.

"Heroes," A lazy drawl sounded from behind them, cutting through the surrounding chaos like a hot knife. "Griffins is waiting for you in the commissioner's office."

It was the officer from the day before; the one that had led them to Detective Grayson. Artemis didn't care enough to remember his name.

"Good morning, Deputy McKibben," Aqualad gave the tall man a brief nod. Thank goodness for the Atlantean's functioning memory. "We'll make our way over there now."

McKibben ignored the Atlantean in favour of yelling something unintelligible at one of his fellow officers, who was apparently doing something wrong, before fading back into the flurrying precinct.

"Well, he was just as unpleasant as I remembered. Which is to say, extremely unpleasant." Wally said, echoing Artemis' thoughts exactly, "Hopefully the commissioner doesn't skin-us-alive for not capturing Nightwing."

Aqualad shook his head, "I highly doubt someone of her professional standing would remove our skin," his tone suggested he'd just departed sage wisdom upon them all.

The speedster leaned in close to Artemis' ear, warm breath tickling her skin and sending chills up and down her spine. He whispered a quiet, "She's going to kill us."

Artemis couldn't help but agree. She, too, would be angry if a bunch of low-life barely-adults waltzed in and failed to do their jobs.

Speak of, Commissioner Sheila Griffins looked no less intimidating in the early morning hours than she had yesterday.

She sat behind her desk, not a hair out of place, muscled arms crossed over her chest. Her eyes seemed to follow them as the team filed in, Aqualad at the front and Conner stoically bringing up the rear.

"Good morning, heroes." The commissioner didn't sound particularly angry, but it was difficult to tell with her usually morose tone. "I trust you found safe accommodations last night?"

"Yes, ma'am." Their Atlantean leader once again exhibited his extensive diplomacy skills, giving her a quick nod before moving on. "We apologize for our negligence concerning the vigilante."

"It won't be happening again," Wally cut in.

"In no way do I blame you for this theft." Griffin raised a single hand, effectively cutting off whatever Aqualad was going to say in protest. "We were all equally unaware of this vigilante's interest in the bloodwork. We were not prepared. Next time, we will be."

Artemis nodded along with her fellow teammates, fists clenching at her sides. Nightwing would not be escaping them again.

"Now then, nothing has been reported stolen from the evidence lock-up. Though it does appear to be the only part of the building subject to robbery. We're guessing some low-life, desperate criminal is behind it." The woman speared each of them with her dark gaze as she spoke, "At least, that's the cover story we're going with. No one but me, you five, and the detective involved have been made aware of the vial's absence."

"Is that because of the mole?" M'gann piped up softly from beside Superboy, "Do you think someone on the inside could use the information of the theft against you?"

For the first time since they'd met her, the commissioner looked her age. She sagged bodily against her desk, dark skin pulled tight across her cheekbones. "Yes. That does seem to be the case. I don't know how else the vigilante would've been able to target the exact location of what they were looking for, or how they would even know to look for it in the first place."

"I see," Aqualad acquiesced, "I know my team has no mole in its ranks, but I offer my condolences. We know from experience the presence of traitors—willing or unwilling—are deeply unnerving.

Griffin merely tipped her head to that, not acknowledging his olive-branch-sympathy any further. "If you have nothing requiring your immediate attention, I would greatly appreciate a run-down of last night's happenings." A wry smile twisted her lips as she focused on something, or someone, behind them, "Detective Grayson does not like being kept out of the loop."

Artemis, giving into her ingrained paranoia, followed the commissioner's gaze over her shoulder and saw—

Detective Grayson, standing in all of his glory. Which, if Artemis was being honest, wasn't all that much. He looked tired, dark bags dragging down the skin under his eyes and mouth pulled into a tight smile.

"I always knew you cared, ma'am." When he spoke, even his voice sounded fatigued.

Despite his obvious exhaustion, the man had somehow managed to sneak up on them, entering the already crowded room and taking up position without alerting the heroes to his presence.

The archer did not jump when she noticed him, but it was a near thing. Wally and M'gann, on the other hand, violently startled, the Martian even rocketing up off the floor in her surprise.

Superboy's lips merely twitched upwards; he'd probably caught on to the detective's stealthy entrance immediately, but decided it would be more amusing not to warn his teammates.

M'gann, seeming to notice her boyfriend's smirk, smacked him lightly on the arm. Not nearly hard enough to hurt. "You knew!"

Superboy didn't deign to answer, but his smirk grew exponentially in size.

Artemis wasn't sure if she should be relieved or annoyed that Conner seemed to have taken a liking to this short, black-haired man.

Annoyed, if this newest scenario had anything to do with her choice.

There was an amused glint in the commissioner's eyes, as if she'd been expecting this whole debacle. "Thank you for coming, detective. Your presence is greatly appreciated."

"Anytime, ma'am." To his credit, Grayson didn't actually sound sarcastic when he said it. Almost as if he actually respected someone above his own station. Strange.

Aqualad, apparently recovering the quickest from the detective's stealthy arrival, directed his team's attention back to the matter at hand, "Wally arrived at the rooftop first, so it is only fair he does the briefing."

The speedster, still looking a little ruffled, nodded his head and began to retell the story.

Artemis and the team were already familiar with most of it, but when he reached the part about his arrival on the roof, the archer tuned back into his explanation.

"—when I got to the roof, he was about to escape but I kind of…distracted him? I honestly didn't think it was going to work, but he stopped for some reason. He said his name was 'Nightwing', when I asked about it." Wally shifted, eyes narrowing underneath his goggles, "He also said…that he didn't kill those kids. It didn't seem like he'd wanted to hurt Miss Martian, either. That seemed more like an accident."

"From what you said, he still hurt her," Detective Grayson cut in, crossing his arms over his uniform, expression absolutely lethal. "That's not something I'd forgive easy."

His reaction seemed strange, unless he was some kind of closet Miss Martian fan? But based on his apparent scorn for all thing's hero, that explanation seemed unlikely.

Again, strange.

The commissioner, seemingly not finding anything out of place in Grayson's reaction, continued on with her interrogation. "Did he give any explanation for his theft? Any possible reasons?"

"No." At her side, Wally shook his head, hair flopping in unison with the action. A half-smile graced his lips as he continued, "He seemed oddly reluctant to monologue."

The detective snorted, then tried to cover it up with a poorly executed cough.

To her surprise, Superboy was the one to fill the following silence. Even more surprising was who he chose to speak to: "What about you?" He asked, directing his usual glacial glare in the detective's direction.

When Grayson found the room's collective gaze on him, he glanced theatrically over his shoulder—found no one else there—then pointed a crooked finger at his own chest, "Who, me?"

Conner didn't bother nodding, merely barreling on. "Aren't you supposed to be this case's detective? So, what have you detected?"

"Since I just got this case yesterday and wasn't even aware that the vigilante was a part of it," He scratched at his head, as if calculating something, before settling on an answer. "Nada."

"So, nothing." Artemis stated, raising a skeptical brow at him.

The affirming answer came wrapped in a sarcastic French accent, if such a thing even existed. "Oui."

The commissioner had a knowing look in her eyes, as if she knew something they didn't, but she evidently decided not to share it. "Well, now that we've—"

Whatever Griffin had been about to say was cut off by the door flying open, a stout figure abruptly shoving their head in, "Ma'am! Ma'am, I need to—"

The newcomer paused, eyes widening as he took in the room's other occupants. He looked young, probably nothing but a junior officer. "Oh, sorry. I didn't know—"

"What is it?" The commissioner said, waving aside his apology.

"Right," The man straightened immediately, "Someone from one of the bars in south end called in. Said there'd been a murder."

"Why are you telling me this?" Griffin looked like she already knew where this was going, but had to confirm it anyway. "South end murders are low-tier."

The man—more of a boy, really—paled, "Because it wasn't just one murder. Five people are dead."

Grayson, who had been uncharacteristically quiet until then, finally pushed his face into the conversation. "That doesn't warrant a trip to the commissioner's office, Pete. You should be talking to forensics."

"My name's not Pe—Oh, never mind. First responders already brought forensics in, that's not the issue here." The officer turned directly toward the detective, fixing his wide-eyed gaze on him. "The only witness says she won't talk to anyone but Detective Grayson. She specifically asked for you by name."

Said detective eased back, face smoothing over as he ingested the other's words. "Interesting."

When that seemed to be the extent of the man's reaction, Pete (or whatever his actual name was) swivelled imploringly towards the commissioner, "Ma'am, this is a time sensitive issue! The sooner we get her statement—"

"I know how legalities work," Griffin said brusquely. "Grayson, go."

"Yes, ma'am." The young detective gave her a haphazard salute and turned to go, stopping only when Aqualad blocked his exit with a tattooed arm.

"Commissioner, if I might add, we should accompany Detective Grayson. It'll give us a chance to see the city from a more relevant perspective."

"You are free to do as you wish," The woman waved a hand at them, then snapped her fingers to get Grayson's attention. You, on the other hand," She narrowed her eyes at him, "Behave."

The man sighed, but nodded despite his obvious reluctance. "Yes, ma'am."

"Good, dismissed."

As soon as the words left her mouth, the detective was gone. He didn't even glance behind him to see if the heroes were following, merely slipping out the door and exiting the station.

Aqualad didn't hesitate before falling into step, apparently trusting that his fellow teammates would follow his lead.

Together, Grayson's darker uniform sticking out like a sore thumb among their brightly coloured crew, they made their way out of the police station.

The detective didn't seem to notice there was an issue until he'd stepped up to his squad car, the same one that'd been at the warehouse yesterday.

Then he glanced back at the heroes still tailing him. Then at the car. Then back again at the heroes. "Why're you following me?"

Kaldur opened his mouth to answer, looking surprised, but Artemis cut him off. "We're riding with you. To the crime scene. It doesn't make sense to travel separately."

"Besides," Wally said, instantly jumping in to support her argument. "We told the commissioner we'd go with you."

Grayson's brows drew low over his eyes, like he was confused, "I didn't think you meant literally."

The ginger smiled, "Of course we meant literally. We're very literal people."

That didn't seem to appease the detective. He still looked extremely hesitant to let any of them near his car, "Not all of you are going to fit."

"I can fly!" Miss Martian piped up from the back, hovering off the ground as if she needed to prove it to them. "I'll follow behind you guys invisibly, that way everyone else can fit."

"Oh, goody." Grayson deadpanned. He unlocked the car despite his obvious reluctance to do so, "Let's just get this over with."

M'gann flickered out of sight as the detective popped his door open, climbing in with a grace that suggested familiarity.

"I call shotgun!" Wally cried, lightning wreathing his limbs as he flashed towards the passenger side door.

Artemis and Conner, not half as petty as their resident speedster, slid into the back without complaint. Metal bars separated them from the cab, reminding Artemis that she was, matter of fact, in a police car.

She hadn't ridden in a police car for a long, long time. It was kind of nostalgic.

Kaldur, resting his hands on the passenger side-door, exhibited one of his rare smiles. "I think the leader gets shotgun, no?"

Wally reluctantly moved to the back, pressing up against Artemis in a way she both hated and couldn't get enough of.

And then they were off, hurtling through the streets of Bludhaven like the devil himself was at their wheels.

BREAK

Artemis was honestly somewhat surprised they arrived alive. Grayson drove like someone was giving birth in his backseat; like he wanted to tear the very paint off the pavement.

After a few breakneck corners and run yellow lights, they finally pulled to a stop outside of a seedy, taped off bar.

Police officers and first responders alike stood around by the door, looking bored and malcontent despite the supposed severity of the situation.

Piling out of the backseat proved much more difficult than getting in.

Artemis, ignoring her reluctance to detach herself from Kid Flash's side, instead focused all her energy on pushing Conner out.

Kaldur, who'd pulled team leader privileges earlier, stepped out the passenger door without preamble.

She stood next to the cruiser while Wally hauled himself out, M'gann materializing to her left, smile already intact.

The sidewalk at their feet was filthy and cracked, littered with a few less than sanitary objects. Growing up on the streets of Gotham, it was nothing she hadn't seen before.

The cruiser's driver side door slammed shut and Grayson moved to stand beside them, taking in the sight of the officers bumming around.

Artemis watched him grimace slightly before smoothing it over, raising his chin and marching towards the neon outfitted entry. It was almost as if he pulled a string and a new curtain fell; something detached and cold taking over his face.

His fellow law enforcers parted before him, some shooting him looks of outright hostility while others simply frowned.

Artemis walked right behind him, knowing the team was on her tail without having to check over her shoulder.

If the sight of Grayson had caused tension, the heroes' presence doubled that. A tidal wave of whispers swept through their ranks, the exact words being muttered about them audible only to Conner's advanced ears.

As soon as she stepped over the beaten threshold, Artemis' nose was instantly assaulted.

The decrepit, low-lit bar stank of cheap booze, lingering cigarette smoke, and—worst of all—blood. Its iron tang was so thick she nearly staggered back into Kaldur.

People she could only assume were forensics milled about, talking in soft voices. They, however, weren't what initially caught her eye.

The dismembered, bloody bodies littering the floor were. Someone—or something—had literally torn them apart.

(A/N): Well...I was gone for a hot minute. Sorry, y'all T-T

My friends snatched me up for a COVID friendly summer road trip, and I had zero time to work on this, hence my little disappearing act

but I'm bACK! I also made this chapter a little longer, because you are all such incredible people and deserve thousand word bonuses 33333

Thank you so much for reading! If you have any questions (Or an idea for a primary antagonist?) I'd love to hear them!

Have a fantastic week, everyone :D

~ASL