Work Text:
Vilnius: Lithuania
Artemis sighed as she pulled her duffle bag from the luggage carousel. It didn’t have everything she would need in it—everything never would have made it through customs—but Barbara had promised that the rest of her gear would be waiting in her hotel room. The blonde raked her hair back into a short ponytail before heading towards the door. Despite never having legally traveled out of the country in her life, all of Artemis’s paperwork had cleared without an issue. In theory, she was here on “business.” Her brand-new, rushed passport and travel visa were all tied into Wayne Enterprises. Artemis was pretty sure Bruce Wayne had no idea she was here, and she was positive she wasn’t going to be the one to tell him. Let Barbara handle that mess. Artemis was here for Barbara, even if she wasn’t convinced it was a great idea.
The cellphone in her pocket buzzed indignantly. She’d been ignoring it since she’d turned it back on after the plane hit the tarmac. Artemis pulled her Bluetooth from her other pocket and clipped it into her ear.
“You were supposed to call as soon as you landed,” the voice on the other end scolded by way a greeting.
“Yeah, the flight was great,” Artemis replied sarcastically. “I just got my bag and I’m heading to my hotel now.” She could hear Barbara sighing in response. “Everything is fine, Barb. Stop worrying.”
“That’s like telling me to stop breathing,” Barbara scoffed. “Some days I think worrying is the only thing that keeps me going.”
“That and coffee,” Artemis agreed, glancing left and right before jogging across the street. “What did you tell the team about me leaving?” A quietness stretched between them for just a beat too long. “Barb?”
“Nothing?” It was Artemis’s turn to sigh heavily.
“You didn’t tell them anything?” she asked, one eyebrow spiking into her bangs regardless of the fact that Barbara couldn’t see her incredulous stare.
“I didn’t want to get their hopes up,” Barbara replied, her voice still quiet. It was really Barbara getting her hopes up that had Artemis worried. She’d found her building, but paused with her back to the wall and her eyes towards the street.
“You really think all of this is a good idea?” she asked.
“I told you, you could have said no. You didn’t have to go.”
Artemis didn’t reply. They both knew that when Barbara had given her the out—the “you don’t have to do this” —that she was going to go. The rumors had been getting more and more interesting. This Hood guy they’d been hearing about had some serious skill. They’d caught a few clips of him, not many, he seemed pretty good at keeping to the shadows. But his fighting style did have the look of a Bat.
“I’m going to go check into my room,” she said finally, choosing to ignore the fact that she’d “had a choice” in being here. “I’ll let you know before I head out tonight.” She went to hang up when Barbara’s voice stopped her.
“Artemis?” Her voice shook just a little. “You don’t think it’s him, do you?” Artemis didn’t know how to answer that question. The truth was that they didn’t have nearly enough information to be making any kind of guess. Artemis had flown out to Europe because Barbara had asked her to, and it was the first time in a long time that Barbara had asked anyone for a favor. As far as she was concerned, that’s all this was: a favor to Barbara. There was a chance that they’d be a little less in the dark about The Hood by the time she flew home, but Artemis seriously doubted it.
“I don’t know what I think, Barb,” she said finally as she dragged herself from the wall.
“Yeah. You’re right. Get some sleep before you head out tonight. And, Artemis?”
“Mmm?” she asked as she opened the door and shifted inside the building.
“Thank you.” Before she could answer, Artemis heard the line go dead.
“No problem,” she answered to the empty air. Resigned, Artemis made her way to the front desk, her eyes scanning the lobby the whole way. That vigilant-borderline-paranoia thing was hard to shake, and the longer she spent with Barb, the worse it got. What the Bats called “preparedness,” most other people called “obsessive tendencies.”
“Can I help you?” asked the receptionist, first in a language Artemis did not speak, and then again in English, sounding more annoyed the second time. The woman was looking at Artemis over the rim of her thick glasses. She didn’t look impressed.
“Artemis Crock, I’d like to check into my room,” the blonde said, trying her hardest to smile politely. The woman was having none of it. She made a show of checking for Artemis’s name, even tisking a little when she found it. Clearly, the woman was used to more impressive cliental.
“You do have a room,” she said, sounding disappointed. “A package was brought up for you this morning.” Artemis thanked her as she took her key card. As she walked toward the elevator, she could feel the woman’s eyes on her retreating back. She really wished Barb had picked a cheaper hotel—this didn’t seem like the kind of place a vigilante should be sneaking out of. Then again, maybe that had been the point. She made her way up the stairs in the lobby to go and check out what kind of gifts Barb had sent her.
---
Artemis stood on her balcony, watching the last of the sunlight fade from the sky. She knew Barbara wanted her to be resting. She wasn’t due to begin prowling the streets for another couple of hours, but she just couldn’t stay still. She had been sitting on a plane for hours and the thought going back inside her room and doing nothing made her want to jump out of her skin. Of course there were files she could be reading, and she knew that’s what Barb would have preferred, but Artemis didn’t see the point. She had skimmed the report already; it was everything they knew about “The Hood.” It wasn’t much. They had a grand total of three very grainy photographs that frankly could have been anyone. Not for the first time, Artemis sighed, wondering what they hell she was doing here.
A breeze slide its way though her hair, and Artemis shivered. Her spine tingled, causing her heart beat to pick up just a little bit. This had nothing to do with the cold; someone was watching her. The buildings directly across from her hotel room showed no signs of any surveillance, but Artemis had learned a long time ago to trust her instincts.
Turning to her left, she saw a figure crouched on the edge of a roof. They weren’t moving, and Artemis might have missed them completely except for the red hoodie covering their head and red mask over their face. As she squinted, the figure rose slightly, as if realizing that the observer had now become the observee.
Dashing off her balcony and back into her hotel room, Artemis scrambled to the bag of gear that Barbara had left her. She knew that there was a monocular in there somewhere. Finally, her fingers curled around it and she was back out on the balcony, blonde hair trailing behind her in a comet’s tail.
She brought the monocular up to her eye, scanning the rooftop where the figure had been just seconds before. But there was no sign of them. Not even birds occupied the space.
“Shit,” she whispered to herself—already spinning to go back inside. She picked her earpiece off the desk and popped it in.
“Barb, you there?” Artemis called into her comm. unable to contain her excitement. “Barb, there was someone watching me.”
“What?” Barbara demanded. Artemis was pretty sure she heard the sound of broken glass in the background.
“He was pretty far away, but I swear, there was a guy on the roof. Leather jacket, little bit of red slipping out.” She tore through the room, collecting pieces of her gear; she changed in to her uniform as quickly as she could.
“What are you doing?”
“Going after him,” Artemis answered, pulling her mask on, and wincing as she saw that it was after 1 AM in Gotham. “I woke you up,” she said, already vaulting out her window.
“Doesn’t matter,” Barbara answered. “Dream wasn’t anything good.” Artemis cringed as she started running off towards the building she’d seen her watcher perched on.
“Barb?”
“Oracle,” Barbara corrected through a yawn.
“Right. Oracle? Get some rest.”
“Not a chance, you’ve got me the whole night. We’re going to find him.”
---
Artemis sat down in the desk chair with a huff, flipping through files on her laptop. She was all suited up with nowhere to go. She hadn’t really left her room since the absolutely useless wild-goose chase on her first night, where they had most definitely not found anyone.
“O,” she complained. “I have been here for almost a week.”
“Three days is not almost a week,” Barbara chided from within her earpiece. “There are seven days in a week, making three the…you know what, never mind.”
“Uh-huh,” Artemis teased. “Look, there has been nothing since I caught him watching me the first night. I spent hours looking without even a whisper of him.”
“Artemis?”
“There’s no way he stuck around—this guy is a ghost, Barb. And I know, I know I agreed to come here, but I think we might have to accept that he’s gone.”
“Artemis?” Barbara’s voice interrupted again.
“…I’m just not made for sitting still anymore and—”
“Artemis!” the now clearly irritated redhead on the other end almost yelled. “Silent bank alarm, little less than three miles from your hotel.”
“You think he’s robbing banks now?” Artemis asked skeptically.
“No,” Barbara said, the eye roll clearly evident in her voice. “But the last sighting of him was when he was trying to stop one—and even if he’s not there, it’ll give you a chance to stretch your legs.”
“You’re a brilliant, beautiful, goddess,” Artemis gushed, already bolting up out of her chair.
“Uh-huh. I’m something. Uploading a map to your mask now. I’ll be here if you need me.”
Artemis slipped her mask into place before opening the door to her balcony. She jumped out into the night, using the fire escape to get her down to ground level. She took off, keeping to the shadows of the building, and pulling the cover off her stashed bike. As she gunned the engine, she switched the lenses of her mask down over her eyes. A digital green line materialized on the road before her.
Tearing off in pursuit, she smiled to herself, wondering if there was a way she could convince Barb to get this bike shipped back stateside.
“I’m having a hard time finding any operational cameras in the area; I can’t give you eyes,” Barbara’s voice filled her ear.
“I’ll be careful,” she promised, shouting to be heard over the engine, pretty sure she wasn’t lying.
“Do you want me to…?” Barbara trailed off. Artemis knew she was offering to keep her company, to keep their communications line open, but that means that the redhead’s attention wouldn’t be on whatever else she was doing.
“How many other cases are you running right now?” she asked, leaning left for a tight corner.
“It’s like two in the afternoon here,” Barbara said, her voice a little flat.
“And you’re supposed to be…?” Artemis asked.
“Meeting my dad in a bit, but this—”
“I’ve got this,” Artemis cut her off, swerving to avoid a slower-moving car. “Besides, this is just to stretch my legs, right? I’ll call in if I need you.”
“Okay…” Barbara said, sounding completely unsure. “Okay, it’ll go right to an alert on my phone. If you need anything—”
“I got this, Barb. Promise.”
“Right,” Barbara replied. “I trust you. Oracle out.” And with that, the steady hum of computers and sporadic clicking of keys went silent; Artemis was alone. She followed her green line, gunning the engine with anticipation. She was ready for a fight.
If the screech of her motorcycle tires on the Vilnian streets as she pulled to a stop didn’t alert the bank robbers to her presence, then perhaps the orange-and-black blur kicking in the front door would. Was it unnecessary? Absolutely. Was she itching to punch someone, preferably multiple someones, in the face after being stuck in her hotel room? Words could not describe.
So it was easy to imagine her utter disappointment when she saw that the bank robbers were already engaged and fighting someone else. And even though it was three bad guys against whomever they were fighting, it was obvious that the robbers had their hands very full.
The fight was taking place in the shadows deeper in the bank, but between the bursts of gunfire and the occasional bout of action passing through the moonlight streaming in from a nearby window, Artemis was able to see enough to know that whoever they were fighting definitely had some serious training. She hung back, watching, trying to stay out of the guy’s sightlines. He definitely seemed to have things under control, and she didn’t want to spook him.
The lone figure ducked under one punch before landing a fist into the side of a robber’s knee. As the robber was going down with a yell, the vigilante bounced his head off the marble floor of the bank with a crack.
Artemis heard the distinctive click of a gun being cocked, and so did the mystery man— he leapt away to the side as the bad guy sprayed bullets across the floor. As the gun ran dry with a click-click-click, the figure leapt from behind a teller station to grab the rifle, immediately swinging it up under the man’s chin with a satisfying crunch.
The final robber pulled what looked like a long hunting knife from his boot, advancing slowly and swinging it back and forth in the direction of his assailant. The man jumped back away from the knife, staying just out of range as the robber advanced. When the thrust came, he was ready. Smoother than silk, the unknown assailant moved to the side before grabbing the man’s arm and leaping into the air, flipping completely over. The torque spun the bank robber’s legs out from under him and sent the knife flying. Landing on one knee, the mystery man then slammed his fist into the robber’s face, knocking him out cold.
Artemis froze. That flip, that fluidity… there was only one man in the world she knew with that kind of fighting style. The man she had come here to find: Dick Grayson.
As the man she was sure was their long-lost leader stood, she caught a glimpse of a red hoodie and mask under a beat-up leather jacket in the moonlight. Her heart started hammering in her chest: he was the man from the rooftop, the one who had been watching her. She was sure of it.
But before she could call out his name, he turned in her direction. Maybe he felt her presence, or maybe the orange and black had given her away. But even behind the red mask covering his face, she could feel their eyes locking. Time seemed to halt as they both stared at each other. Then, quicker than she thought possible, he took off toward the side, leaping headfirst through a window that shattered around him.
And suddenly those silent alarms became very, very loud.
“You have got to be kidding me,” she growled, sprinting back out the way she’d come and doubling back towards the broken window. She caught the tail end of him as he sprinted around a corner, the bottoms of his boots kicking up loose gravel as he ran.
Artemis considered calling into to Barbara, but knew she would need all of her breath to run. She put her head down raced after him, whirling around the corner. She chased him as he dodged down alleyways, sliding in between buildings like smoke. Twice, he reached out and pulled boxes or trash cans down after him, trying to slow her down. But Artemis simply jumped or climbed them, determined to catch her prey. She smirked as she watched him turn towards a poorly lit passage—one without a way out.
Got you, she thought triumphantly, barreling on ahead until she smacked into a solid wall of human flesh in a leather jacket. She spun, taking hold of the jacket collar and slammed the man face first into the wall. He groaned a little in surprise as his red helmet collided with the brick.
“If you’d wanted me like this, all you had to do was ask,” her captive grunted, the sound of his voice distorted by his helmet. Artemis scanned him quickly; what she’d earlier assumed to be a mask turned out to be a pretty high-tech looking red helmet. The surety that she had had only moments ago started to waiver. Had she only thought the man fighting in the bank had been Dick because she’d wanted him to be?
“Who are you?” she demanded, pressing down on him a little harder.
“Nobody,” he replied. Artemis could hear the mocking laughter in his voice even through the helmet. She slid one arm up to press on the exposed flesh of his neck, the other grabbing onto his wrist and yanking his left arm into a very uncomfortable position.
“Cute,” she told him, “but I had to read The Odyssey in high school too. Try again.” He laughed then, a low rumble Artemis felt glide through his chest.
He moved quickly, reversing her grip on his arm, using brute strength and his extra seven or eight inches to spin them around so her back was to the wall and his thick forearm was pressing lightly against her throat.
“Why do you care so much, Blondie?” he asked. Artemis stared into the whites of his helmet’s eyes. She sighed deeply, taking him in. He seemed huge.
“Missing a friend of mine,” she said finally, her body relaxing against the wall.
“I’ll be your friend.”
“I’m sure you will,” she scoffed, tilting her head back to look up at him. “Take your helmet off, I want a look at you.”
“You’re pretty bossy for a girl who’s got her back pinned to a wall,” he laughed, pressing down just a little bit harder.
Artemis, laughed back, moving her arms slowly into place.
“And you’re pretty cocky for a guy with a crossbow aimed at the family jewels.” She shifted her weapon against him, making sure he felt it. He sighed as he backed away from her, his hands going up in the air. Slowly, he reached down and unlocked his helmet, pulling it off, but still staying a little closer than she would have liked. She studied him with a raised brow.
He was wearing the right clothes; dark cargo pants, leather jacket, and a red hoodie peaking out at the collar. He was tall, pushing six-two, and the boy was jacked. Artemis tried not to stare too hard. His hair was the right color—except for the shock of white running through his bangs on the left side—and he was smirking at her, his eyes covered by another, smaller domino mask.
“Seriously?” she asked. “Another mask?”
“Never can be too careful,” he told her with a shrug. He leaned towards her, his fingers reaching for her mask. “You too, pretty cat.”
Artemis caught his writs. “It’s Tigress,” she corrected, moving just a little to his left and pulling hard, spinning them both so she could pin him back to the wall. His helmet crashed the ground with a thud.
“Got it,” he grunted, bringing both hands up by his face. “That name come with a safe word?”
Shocked, Artemis stepped back from him. Whatever she had been expecting, that wasn’t it. He laughed at her, low and rumbling before snatching the mask from her face, and yanking her closer to him. She shivered when she felt his breath on her ear. “Tell me to stop,” he whispered.
“If I wanted you to stop, you’d be on the ground, bleeding,” she told him, her voice low and husky, her mouth responding before she had time to give it permission. He pulled her even tighter to his body.
“Christ, you’re hot.” His lips pressed down on hers, his hands coming down to her hips, holding her, but not so tight that she couldn’t break his hold just by backing up.
Artemis kissed him back, teeth scraping his lip, making him gasp in obvious pleasure.
“I saw you,” she said when he pulled away to breath. “Watching me.”
“Did you, now?”
“Yeah, two nights ago: perched on the roof like a damn gargoyle. Where I come from, that screams Bat.”
“Sounds a bit like Hell to me,” he said, his body stilling ever so slightly.
“You’re not far off,” she conceded, pulling back from him. She moved her hand slowly up to grip his chin, tilting his face back and forth in the moonlight.
“See something you like?” His voice was deep, and it twisted her stomach in knots, but Artemis couldn’t help the pang of disappointment.
“You’re not him,” she said simply.
“Sorry to disappoint.”
“It’s okay,” she said. “You can be something else.” She leaned forward, kissing him hard, pouring her anger and frustration into it. He wasn’t who she was looking for. The man in front of her wasn’t Dick Grayson, the boy she’d been sent to find; the friend who had abandoned her when she had needed him most. And the tall, dark-haired man most certainly wasn’t Wally West. He didn’t smile at her, with a joke waiting on his lips, or look at her with eyes that told her she was his world. Hell, she couldn’t even see his eyes under the damn mask, but he would be enough for now. She could feel the way he wanted her, and some days, like today, being wanted would be enough to numb the pain—just enough to make her feel whole, if only for a little while. So, no, he wasn’t who she was looking for, but he could be hers enough to make her forget how empty she was...
---
---
Jason stood, watching her go. Once she was out of sight, he sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. He figured there was no way he could mess it up any more than it already was.
“You can come out now, you fucking perv,” he called into the dark, not bothering to turn and face the alley.
Dick walked slowly next to him, stretching his back and shoulders as he moved.
“I’m not the one who just fucked some one in an alleyway,” he sniffed.
“No,” Jason conceded, turning to face him with a smirk. “You’re the one who was dumb enough to let Artemis Crock see you fighting, and then have to comm me to come save your ass.” Jason rolled his shoulders with a small groan. “You’re also the one who fucking watched. And you’re welcome.” Dick wrinkled up his nose.
“For what, exactly?” he asked doubtfully.
“Well one,” Jason counted off on his fingers, “for the free show, and two, she’s never going to think I was you.” He laughed as Dick shoved him and began walking back towards their bikes.
“Seriously?” the older man asked. “That’s why you fucked her?”
“Nah,” Jason shrugged. “I did it because I’ve wanted to since I was like fourteen. And because she wanted me too.”
“That’s disgusting,” Dick said with a dramatic roll of his eyes. “And you did not have to keep asking her to say things louder, you asshole.”
“Whatever, you loved it.”
“I did not!” Dick all but shouted, throwing his hands into the air.
“Uh-huh.” Jason strolled along next to him, whistling a little and tucking his helmet under his arm. “I’m starving,” he said after a minute or so. “Must be all the hard work I put into tonight.”
“I hate you,” Dick growled.
“Sticks and stones, Dickie Bird, sticks and stones,” Jason taunted, felling thoroughly satisfied with himself. “Besides, if it weren’t for me, you would be having a horribly uncomfortable conversation right now.”
“Yes, because this isn’t uncomfortable as Hell.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Jason waved his hand dismissively. “Take-out and drinks to celebrate?”
“Take-out, drinks, and ice,” Dick amended. “One of us took down a group of would be bank-robbers tonight.”
“Please,” Jason scoffed. “You saw what I just did.”
“Jay, I really tried not to.”
Jason just smiled and kept walking, leading them back towards the bank and their stashed bikes. These were absolutely the kinds of sacrifices he was willing to make for his brother.