Work Text:
Good job, Artemis.
Thatta girl, Arty!
You did good, kid.
I ---
Those are words.
All they are are words.
Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.
Do you know how many times I've said that in my life?
If I were Superboy---Conner, I could calculate it most likely. Well, he hasn't been around that long, so he could probably calculate the amount of times he's blinked. Especially with that big brain of his. And boy did he not get that from the Man with the Steel Trap. I mean, Supes is smart, but Conner's edging up a little past genius level, or he would if he was given any opportunity to show his intelligence, or if he actually thought he was as smart as he is. Superman has a lot more to answer for than he knows.
Anyway, I've probably said that little snippy phrase more times than any kid in Robin's neck of the woods. I haven't figured out who Bats is, but you definitely don't get that smart by living on the street or even close to it. No matter what those stupid people who come in spouting their crap about bettering yourself say, you need help to achieve something really great. Most time that help comes in the form of cash.
Which I don't have a lot of.
That or help, or rather, I didn't until I found Green Arrow, or maybe he found me. I've never been absolutely sure about it.
But, I guess I'm glad. That he found me and gave me help.
I don't know where I'd be without him.
Well, actually I do. I just don't want to think about how it could have gone.
Would I have made it completely intact? No more scars? No more broken bones? No more blood? No more causing those scars or broken bones or having someone else's blood on my hands?
I almost wish that we had stayed, but Mom didn't want me to grow up that way and D-him, I don't think he wanted me anymore.
I was a sign of failure because Mom failed. Because she got hurt. I'm a child of failure.
Well, if you could only see me now, asshole. You'd shit a brick.
Imagine that. The Sportmaster's brat on the side of 'Good'. What a story to tell your villain buddies.
Oh, hey man, how're the kids?
Junior's doing great. A real chip off the old block. Made first place in the science fair and managed to sabotage everyone else's projects in the process. Not that he needed to. Project was amazing. Better than all those stupid volcanos these brats keep popping out and calling science.
I hear what you're saying man. My kid managed to make off with about $300 bucks today and still had time to start forging a painting. Amazing. I tell you, man. This next generation is going to be brilliant. Hey, Sporty,(and he'd deserve to be called by some cheap nickname. The prick.) how's your kid? You have one, right?
Yeah, but she's, um….
What was that? I can't hear you man.
-- What am I even thinking about. He probably never acknowledged me in that way around most and the few he did probably stopped hearing about me as soon as Mom had her accident.
Good shot, Artemis.
Look at my amazing girl, winning that archery competition. You sure showed them.
I love ---
They're just words. No more. No less.
No more.
They say that the pen is mightier than the sword. I didn't get that before. I get it now.
I got a scholarship to a stupidly good school because someone put pen to paper. Not because I can kick ass or because of anything I did, really. But that just proves my point. Pen > Sword. Big difference.
Or maybe, it's just words that are mightier than violence or weapons. You can send soldiers off to war with words, not weapons. A fight can be started over words. Words can hurt. Words can kill.
Look at my beautiful girl. Prettier than your mother. Don't tell her I said that.
They're just -
And that's it. They're just - whatever they are. Expulsions of air, vibrated through our vocal cords, molded by our lips, tongues and teeth into sounds that have been made recognizable as a form of communication.
I wonder what it's like for deaf people. How sad it must be not to hear things, like music or laughter. Or the sound of anguish. Or the splash of tears on paper.
I think I'd like to be deaf. And maybe blind.
Then I'd have a reason not to see Mom's disappointment. Or her pain. Or to see her turn away. I'd have a reason not to hear her disappointment. Or her attempts to explain away our poverty. Or to hear her explain why he left her. Left us. Left ME.
I'd have a reason not to see his disappointment. Not to see his anger. Not to see him walk away for the last time. I'd have reason not to hear his disappointment. Or his criticisms. Or his angered statements.
If I were deaf or blind or both, I wouldn't have to watch him look at me blankly or not hear the words he never said.
If I was blind or deaf or both, I wouldn't see Mom smile again or hear her tell me she loves me.
But is all the pain I experience through my senses worth it?
It'll be okay, kiddo. It's nothing but a flesh wound.
Great job today, Artemis. I'm proud of you.
I love you ---
They're words, you know?! Just fucking words!
"Artemis, calm down, sweetheart."
Why do they hurt so fucking much?
Why were they so hard to say?
Why wasn't I enough for him to stay?
Why wasn't she?
"Artemis, honey. It's okay."
I would have left. I could have gone out onto the streets. I'm resourceful. Mom told me so.
God! Why didn't he ever say it? Every compliment came from her. Every bit of help came from her. Every piece of constructive criticism!
Every bit of help with my homework! HER.
Every bit of free time given to just be a kid! HER.
Every boo-boo kiss! Every bedtime story! Every whisper 'goodnight' and smile 'good morning'!
HER! HER! HER!
"Artemis. It's okay. You don't have to say anymore. You don't have to talk anymore if you don't want to."
God!
They were ju - just words.
He couldn't give me that. He couldn't even give me a smile or a kind look or a freakin' nod!
No! He couldn't give me anything that would break his - hff - stupid fucking image.
Bastard.
"Artemis. He didn't deserve to have you in his life. He still doesn't. And he doesn't deserve your tears."
I deserved better! Aah - I - I deserved to be loved. I deserve it.
Why doesn't he love me?! Why did he never love me?!
Why wasn't I good enough?!
I did everything he ever asked. Even if it made Mom frown, I did it. Even if it hurt people. Even if it hurt me. I did it. For him. And what do I get?
Nothing.
As if it were expected.
"Artemis. He was wrong. You deserve love. But he's not worth it. He may never have been."
Yes he was! He was my daddy! I wanted my daddy to love me! I want my daddy to love me!
Why doesn't he love me?
WHY DID YOU WAKE ME UP?!
I love you, Artemis.
Daddy loves you, baby.
Daddy loves you so much, Arty.
More than anything, Daddy loves you.
Hff - Hiccup - Why did y -
Why did you wake me up?
I just want him to love me.
He loved me there.
Why did you wake me up?
"Why did you want to stay there? All your friends and your Mom are here?"
It was perfect. I just wanted to see what perfection could be like. He was there and he wasn't… He was my daddy. Like I wanted him to be.
Wh- Why did you w-w-wake me up? I wanted to stay.
"We're sorry, Arty. So sorry."
"We love you, Artemis and we haven't known you even half as long. Your Mom loves you, too. More than I think you know."
I know. I love her. And as much as it pains me to admit, I think I love you guys, too.
Even you, Kid.
----------------
But.
There it is.
A big fucking word in three letters.
I'm glad I woke up. Scared for Kaldur, but I understand why he's still asleep.
--Is the pain I experience from my senses worth it?
--Are the triumphs we experience worth these downfalls?
--Is reality, better than the dream?
Daddy loves you, Arty.
I'm not so sure anymore….