~Wally + Artemis

~Day Three: Crush~

Lights, bright and flashing. The ground was slick and the streets were gathering puddles from the pelting rain. It was a cold night, especially for July. Cold, freezing.

She had disobeyed direct orders. Taken up the files and headed on out to the street, even in this weather. A right smart detective, that girl was. Or perhaps she was a wannabe. Trying to prove something to herself.

A car honk. Shiver. God, it's cold.

Rain, streaking down her face, ruining her eye makeup. Turning her usual golden hair to a dark, soaking brown. Blue-grey eyes peering out across the city's downtown, pale hands clutching a stack of papers to her chest.

Wind. South. Towards the parking garage.

There. The man from the files, the one leaning against the bar with a cigarette hanging from his lower lip. Mugger. She'd get him this time.

The clack of boots on concrete, then metal. Rain coming down even harder, bouncing off of her skin. The swerve of tires and the screech of burnt rubber.

Eyes growing wide.

Sometimes all it takes is one distraction.

The news had come at three 'o clock in the morning.

Wally had been sleeping like a rock—no, more like a boulder—for a good two hours by that point, strewn across his bed like laundry, his mouth hanging open and deep snores filling his bedroom. His costume had still been mostly on, only one sleeve partially hanging off of his shoulder. It had been an exhausting night.

And, as was usual, exhausting nights always ended up even more exhausting than Wally had originally thought they would be. This night was no different. At three 'o clock sharp, he was awakened to the sound of his cell phone ringing on the end table beside him.

He groaned, more asleep than awake, and threw his arm to the side, feeling for the phone. It slipped out of his grasp twice before he got a proper hold on it, bringing it over to his face and waiting for his blurry vision to adjust.

The iPhone happily displayed a picture of Wally's best friend, clad in his typical black sunglasses, turquoise t-shirt, and designer jeans, leaning against the school sign and grinning.

Dick. Dick was calling.

Why the hell was Dick calling at three in the morning?

Wally considered not answering, then groaned again, sliding his thumb across the touch screen surface and holding the phone to his ear.

"…Hello?"

"Wally?" Yep, Dick's voice.

Wally rolled over onto his back and threw his arm over his eyes. "Uh-huh?"

"Hey, uh, sorry to call you so early but…" Dick hesitated, something that was very uncharacteristic of his personality. "I thought you would want to know."

The kid didn't elaborate further. By this point, Wally was getting annoyed. Really? Three 'o clock? Who did that?

He threw a pillow on top of his head and said with a muffled voice, "I should know what?"

Another hesitation. This was getting weird. Something was up.

Wally reluctantly blinked at the phone, then pushed the pillow aside, sitting up in bed. He reached for his nightstand and flipped on the lamp, shielding his eyes at the sudden light. "Know what, Dick? What happened?"

A sigh. "Look, man, if you want me to—"

Wally interrupted. This was definitely serious; Dick never kept anything from his best friend. "Dick, just tell me what happened." He crossed his legs Indian style and waited, his chin resting in the palm of his hand.

A moment's pause and Dick responded, the same hesitation present in his voice, as if he were confessing some awful sin. "It's Artemis."

Wally frowned. "What about Artemis?"

"She's in the hospital, Wally."

It was funny how everything changed in that one moment. Wally had no idea that a single statement could have such a profound effect on him, really. One second, he had been sitting in bed with his eyelids drooping and the light stinging his retinas, and the next he was already standing up, clutching the phone as if he intended to crush it, wide awake and alert.

"…What?"

Now that the toughest part was out of the way, Dick went into full-fledged super speak mode. And, God knows, he did it well when it was needed. "Look, maybe it's best if you just come down to the hospital now, okay?" he said quickly. "I don't want you doing anything stupid while you're out there. It's Cherylton. 32nd Street. You know the address. I'll…explain what I know when you get here."

"Dick, wait, what the hell—" But the line had already gone dead, leaving Wally standing in his dimly lit bedroom wearing a dirty costume and knowing that his teammate was in the hospital. And he didn't even know why.

He closed his eyes for a split second, and thought to himself that things would be infinitely easier if he hadn't of created that stupid experiment years ago, the one that turned him into Kid Flash.

He got ready as fast as possible, which meant about a minute. Through that one minute, what felt like a million thoughts went through his mind. Artemis. Artemis is in the hospital. Dick is with her. In the hospital. What did she do? Why isn't she at Mount Justice being treated? Cherylton, that's in Gotham. It probably isn't bad. It can't be bad. Artemis wouldn't let it be bad. Artemis…

Artemis.

He muttered a curse under his breath and threw a comb through his hair once, then grabbed his bag and ran downstairs, careful to tip-toe past his parents' bedroom as he made his way to the back door. They knew he was a hero, but that still meant he had a curfew. Not that he ever followed it. And if there was any time to break that curfew, it was now.

But still, why did it have to be her? Artemis. That girl was constantly causing trouble, one way or another. She had probably sprained her ankle or something ridiculous like that. Dislocated a shoulder. Got a bad scratch. Something simple, easily treatable. Probably. But Dick had sounded so…worried. And Dick didn't get worried.

Wally took a deep breath, as he opened the back door and came down the porch steps to the street, already starting to run. He kept his speed so that nobody would be able to see him unless they were directly watching for a blazing human blur. Plus, it helped even his thoughts a little bit. Focus on the running, Wally. Keep the speed. Artemis is fine. She's always fine.

He ran along the streets of Central City and headed out towards the highway, where the only light came from car headlights. He didn't like running along the highway, but what other choice did he have? A cab was too slow and too expensive. No, he needed to know what was going on, what had happened. Now.

Before too long, Gotham City was in his vision, its skyscrapers and smog blending in perfectly with the still night. Even from this far away, he could hear sirens in the distance, jumping in here and there among the chirps of crickets. Typical Gotham. Always overdoing itself.

He slowed when he got into the city limits, knowing he would have to start walking when he neared the busier areas. He was fast, but dodging that many people wasn't easy. Besides, they would see him, or at least sense him, when a sudden, random burst of wind knocked them off of their feet and onto the pavement. But slowing down brought the thoughts back. The worries back. Artemis was in a hospital.

He clenched his fists and kept running.

Cherylton was closer than he had remembered it. He pushed his way through a crowd of punks who looked like they were nearing their tenth beer, and walked through the emergency doors of the hospital, not bothering to wipe his feet as he made his way toward the front counter. It had rained earlier and his shoes were wet and dirty. He could care less.

The receptionist, a frazzled old lady who looked like she just wanted to go home, directed him to room 242, where Artemis Crock was apparently staying. And, of course, it was just his luck that the receptionist hadn't the slightest idea what had happened to Artemis. She was "just the receptionist."

Of course she was.

He went down the hallway to the elevator, trying to ignore the chills that were sent down his spine every few seconds as antiseptic filled his nostrils like a drug and emergency calls were announced over an intercom. What was he doing in a hospital, of all places? Heroes didn't go to hospitals. They went to…to Alfred Pennyworth or something. Somewhere other than this awful place of injuries and too much soap.

Wally gradually wiped his hands down his face, as the elevator moved up to the 3rd level of the hospital. He didn't need this. Oh, God, he didn't need this.

The metal doors opened excruciating slowly and he stepped out onto the floor, his head jerking back and forth as he scanned the hallway for a gold plate stating "242". He walked for a full minute before something else at the end of the hallway caught his eye. Turquoise t-shirt, sunglasses.

"Dick!" he called, breaking into a run and heading towards his best friend. He dodged a nurse who was pushing along a food cart and made his way to the end of the hallway.

The black-haired boy had been leaning against the wall, messing with his phone. He immediately looked up and waved slightly at Wally, giving a tired-looking smile as his friend approached.

"Hey," he said when Wally was close enough to hear, sounding exhausted.

Wally stopped when he reached Dick and glanced at the door his best friend had been standing next to. It was shut, and labeled "242" in professional black letters on a gold plaque. Behind it was Artemis. For a reason Wally didn't even know.

He looked back over at his friend, who was a few inches shorter than him and had his arms crossed, looking very intensely at the door. In his left hand was his cell phone, which had been opened to text messages. To Kaldur, from what Wally could make out.

Observing this, Wally spoke up. "Dick, are you going to tell me what's going on? Where are the others?"

"Conner and Kaldur are downstairs in the lounge," Dick explained, holding up his phone and showing a text telling that Kal was going to get Conner a magazine from the gift shop. "M'gann went home to the Mount a couple hours ago to sort some things out with the League members. As for what's going on…" He chewed on the edge of his lip, then took off his sunglasses. Underneath were a pair of very tired, very dark blue eyes. They glanced up at Wally as he said, "Here. Come on."

Dick gently moved forward and turned the doorknob to Artemis' room, opening the door and walking inside. He held it open and Wally followed, trying to ignore how his heart was suddenly racing twice as fast. What was he expecting? For her to look like Harvey Dent or something?

The room was mostly dark, lit only by a lamp on a table next to the hospital bed. The lamp was positioned next to a tray of various medications, some of them opened and spilling pills out onto the metal. Yet another shiver went down Wally's spine. His eyes moved to the right.

In the hospital bed was Artemis, her hair loose and falling about her shoulders in a ragged way that was oddly lovely. Her eyes were closed and her mouth shut, but he could hear her breathing deeply through her nose. Asleep. Peaceful. Okay, so maybe she was alright. Wally's shoulders relaxed a bit.

Then his eyes moved from her face and to the real, important aspect of the scene. For God knows what reason, he had missed it when he had first came in the room, even though it was right there, smack jab in front of him. Mocking.

Her leg. It was wrapped to infinity and beyond in a stark white cast, lifted high into the air and in traction.

Wally's eyes grew wide, and he looked desperately down at Dick, searching for an explanation. The 13-year-old was staring at Artemis with the same tired expression, his arms crossed. "It was a complex fracture," he said quietly, his eyes cast low.

"Wha…what does that even—"

"Her leg was shattered, Wally. Completely. She was in an accident."

Wally was staring at all of this in complete and utter disbelief. This kind of thing didn't happen. Not to them, anyway. Not to teenage superheroes. They saved the world and got out of it with a couple bruises! That was their life! That's what they did!

His hands were suddenly shaking. Only slightly, but shaking nonetheless. Trembling. He urged them to stop, but couldn't. "What happened?"

Dick swallowed. "She and Kaldur were going over mission plans last night. They had met a man on the street who Artemis had seen getting away with mugging a little girl. They had rescued the little girl but didn't catch the man. Kaldur put Artemis on strict orders to go home."

"And she didn't." Wally already knew how this story went. It was so like Artemis to do something that obviously stupid.

Dick shook his head. "No. She took the files and headed out onto the street alone."

"In her costume? So the hospital people know her secret identity?"

"No, in civvies. A bit of inconspicuous, undercover work. She didn't want to be drawing attention in a superhero costume."

"And then what? A mugger caught her? A brawl went wrong? She fell from a building? What?"

"No. She was distracted by something, we think. Stepped out into the street too quickly. Hit head-on by a car."

Wally winced. He paused for a moment, closing his eyes, and then kept asking questions. If he let this all settle in, it would kill him. "And why is she here, instead of at the Mount?"

Dick shot him a look that was obviously supposed to make Wally feel stupid. "Wally, someone called an ambulance when they saw a young girl get hit by a car. And ambulances don't go to Mount Justice."

The red-head immediately moved on to the next question. He was looking at Artemis again. Not at her leg, but at her. Her face had been scratched up. Badly. Busted lip, a cut along her right cheekbone, gash near the top of her forehead. "She had surgery, I'm guessing?"

His best friend nodded. "Three and a half hours. I got here about halfway through it, when her mother called me."

"Mrs. Crock? Why…why'd she call you?"

Oh, dear God. No, no, that was not jealousy in Wally's voice. Definitely not. Artemis could be friends with whatever boy she wanted to. Wally could care less.

His eyes moved back to her peaceful, sleeping face. Tanned skin, thin eyebrows, full lips. Heart-shaped face, pressed into her pillow.

Damn it, who was he kidding?

"I go to the same school as her. We've talked a few times, I've met her mother. I'm one of her few friends at Gotham Academy and so Mrs. Crock called me. You don't have to worry, okay?" Dick replied, glancing up at his friend. "I'm no competition."

Wally cocked an eyebrow. "Competition? What are you talking abou—"

"You're going to have to tell her when she wakes up, Wally," Dick said, his tone suddenly becoming serious again.

"Tell her what?" Like Wally didn't already know.

"What happened. That her leg was crushed in an accident. That it will take months for it to heal." Dick's voice dropped lower. "That she might not be able to—"

"Stop." All of a sudden, Wally just couldn't take anymore. The rapidity of asking questions hadn't worked. The situation was beginning to settle in anyway. His fists were clenched and he had whirled on his best friend. "Just stop, okay? I didn't get to sleep until 2 AM and, here I am, being told that one of our teammates just got trampled by a vehicle, went through a three hour surgery, and I didn't even KNOW about it!" His eyes were wild.

Wally's best friend stared back at him, looking more tired than ever. "I'm sorry. But it's the truth and we can't just pretend it didn't happen. As much as we'd like to."

Wally groaned, turning around and falling into the armchair in the room. "But this isn't happening. It can't be." He shook his head, staring at the ground. "This doesn't happen to people like us, Dick. We don't get injuries this bad."

Dick sighed. "Wally, people with powers don't get injuries this bad. Artemis and I are normal. Just as vulnerable as any other human. It could have happened to any—"

Wally's head shot up, catching Dick off-guard with the hostility of its gaze. "But it happened to her. It happened to Artemis and now you're telling me she might not ever get better from this. She might not be a Super again. She might have to leave Young Justice."

"There's no way of knowing yet, Wally. We can't be—"

"But there's a chance, isn't there?" Wally's fingernails dug into the velvet lining of the armchair. "And it's more than just a little chance. It's like when a dancer breaks their leg—they don't dance again. I've seen movies, TV shows, newspaper clippings. I'm not dumb."

Dick fell silent, his eyes flicking away.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, Wally sitting with his face in his hands, Dick leaning against the wall and looking out the window into another Gotham night. It was nearing five in the morning now. Sun would be up before too long. And then they would have to live out their day, keep carrying on with their lives, pretend they were fine because that was their job as heroes. You keep going. You keep trying.

Wally was right well sick of it. There was a point when things were just not okay.

Finally, Dick spoke up. "I'm going to go check on Conner and Kaldur. Stay here with her, okay?" As if he needed to tell Wally. Wally would stay here with her until the sun was up and then maybe he'd stay a little bit longer.

Slowly, Wally glanced up, lifting his face out of his hands as the 13-year-old shut the door behind him. He looked over at Artemis, still sleeping, just as Wally had been sleeping only a few hours before. He glanced with disgust up at her leg, still hanging like some sick, awful piñata. He hated it. It had ruined everything.

Biting the inside of his cheek, he got to his feet and walked over to Artemis' bedside. For a moment, he just stood there awkwardly. What did you do when the girl who you didn't like but really did like and who was kind of extremely annoying had just went through trauma surgery and you were standing next to her hospital bed? What did you do?

He groaned, turning away and running his hands through his flame-red hair. Yes, things would have been so much easier, if only he had left Uncle Barry's stupid journals alone and had never become Kid Flash. He wouldn't have to deal with anything like this. The only thing he would be worried about was whether he would make the track team and which girl he would take to prom. Easy, lazy cares. The simplicity was so alluring that Wally had to stop thinking about it.

This was his life now.

Get over it.

A small moan, almost inaudible. For a moment, Wally thought he had made it himself. But then he heard it again, a sound that was too feminine to be his voice and too strong to be anyone else's but Artemis. He turned around, halfway panicking. No. He couldn't be the one to tell her. Young Justice was everything to her. He wouldn't do it.

He immediately sat down on the bed beside her, not even thinking that she would probably slap him for doing such. At this point in time, he didn't care. He watched quietly as her eyelids slowly fluttered open, in a way that was almost melodramatic. God, she looked awful. And yet beautiful at the same time. How did she manage that? Was that even possible? It didn't make any sense, that was for certain. But neither did the strange crush for Artemis that had been growing inside Wally for the past couple of months.

And that was why he was so angry with all of this. So absolutely furious. Because just as he had been getting to know her, just as he was beginning to understand things, this happened. The future he thought he had known, ripped away in an instant.

Her eyes looked unfocused for a few moments, and then they met his gaze. They blinked.

"…Wally?"

Feeling like a complete and utter idiot, he smiled at her. Sadly, with little real enthusiasm. "Uh…yeah. Yeah, it's me."

Her eyes immediately narrowed. "What are you doing?"

She didn't know. She didn't know that she was lying in a hospital room with a crushed leg that was recovering from a three and a half hour long surgery. A surgery that would allow her to walk again, but perhaps never allow her to leap rooftops. To scale buildings. To jump and dive and somersault. To be Artemis.

She thought she was at home.

He needed a distraction. Something before she could figure out exactly what was going on, exactly what had happened to her over the past night's hours.

But, of course, her eyes were already moving away from his and she was figuring it all out. Piecing each thing together, one by one. The strange room. Wally by her side. The antiseptic smell. The bottles of pills. The pain in her leg.

His smile faded along with the narrowed look of her eyes. Without really thinking about it, he took her hand.

Her eyes had widened, and he felt her body tense underneath the sheets, rubbing against him. "Wally, I—" She looked wild. Desperate. "Wally, what happened? Where am I?" Her fingers tightened around his, as if she were going through some sort of withdrawal. "Why am I…the accident, there was a car, I—Oh, God." Her eyes fell upon the cast at the end of her bed. The disgusting piñata.

Wally had never, ever in his life expected to see Artemis cry. He had figured she was too heartless for that kind of emotion. He had pretty much labeled her as a witch from day one, despite the beautiful smile and the tall, slender body. Witches didn't cry.

But here Artemis was, staring in absolute horror at the thing hanging by the end of her bed, knowing all too well what it meant. What it meant for her, for her family, for the rest of her life. And here she was, her eyes filling with tears.

Wally couldn't bear this. Absolutely could not stand this. Couldn't just sit here and watch her heart break in front of him, watch it be torn apart piece by piece until she just broke down. His hand clenched tighter around hers, but she didn't notice. She was still frozen, staring at the cast.

She needed a distraction. Just one distraction. Anything to stop this, to put it on pause, to slow down the awful process.

A tear slipped from her right eye, and before Wally knew rightly what he was doing, he had leaned down and kissed her cheek. Before the tear could slip any further.

His lips lingered there for several, long moments, to the point that he could taste salt. He closed his eyes, bringing his hand up to her face and stroking back a piece of her hair.

"Shh. I'm here, Artemis. Go back to sleep."