AN: Hey, it's been a while.

I have no idea if people are still interested in this story (if you still are, drop a review on this chapter so I know!). I have no idea why I stopped writing it, either, other than I was a 13-year-old fangirl when I started and now I'm an 18-year-old nobody. My writing has changed a lot in that time, and I'm no longer happy with the beginning of this story, which makes me want to toss out the whole thing.

But I'm not going to do that.

I've got one summer before I start higher education (I'm going to med school, guys!) and I plan to finish this story, which has taken so, so long, in this time.

So, what are we waiting for?

Disclaimer: I own nothing but a high school diploma

Previously:

"My point is, sometimes talking about things can be painful. Artemis likes to avoid that pain. She'll tell us the whole truth when she's ready."

"I guess that makes sense." Conner replied, mulling over the Martian's words. "But what are we going to do about Tara?"

"For now, I guess we'll just have to wait and see."

Chapter 24: Stone Cold Killers and Blind Spots

Gotham weather was odd.

Some days, the city seemed bogged down by torrential rain or lashed by biting winds, and some days, in the same week even, it felt sweltering, with sunlight that was too harsh and humidity that made breathing feel like drowning. One thing was certain though-there were only about six nights a year that Gotham weather was actually comfortable.

This was not one of those nights.

The humidity seemed to cling to the city's inhabitants, invading their hair, their skin, and their lungs, and foreshadowing yet another summer storm. Any sane person was indoors, with their doors and windows firmly shut (as they should be anyway, this is Gotham), possibly asleep, probably plagued by everything but sleep as they watched the world fog up in a city of sin, sorrow and solitude.

But there are some people who don't mind the terrible Gotham weather-people who are just a little bit insane.

The night was still and quiet as Artemis Crock flipped through the air, landed on the roof of a decrepit building, and vaulted off before the roof could cave in. Her muscles burned with the effort, but she surmised that the ache was better than falling several stories. At best, she'd end up with some shallow cuts and nasty bruises. At worst, she'd have to explain to the Team how her definition of a 'mild injury' was a broken leg. 'Like a true Gothamite' she thought with a smirk, grappling to the next crumbling building and flinging herself high into the air.

It was good this part of Gotham was practically abandoned, or Artemis is sure she'd look crazy, leaping across abandoned buildings the way she was. But the thing is, she didn't feel crazy. She felt…good. For the first time in weeks, her thoughts couldn't keep up with her movements, the adrenaline was drowning her feelings, and the voices in her head had run out of breath. It was like being a kid again: feeling positive, being alone, and doing death-defying parkour.

"Artemis, pay attention! God, it's like you have a death wish!"

'Maybe a little too much like being a kid' she gripes, as the memory causes her to pause at the edge of another questionable rooftop. She's feeling a different kind of pain now.

"Keep moving, Artemis! I know you can!"

She leaps off the edge just in time, letting a grappling hook catch on a rusty fire escape and hauling herself up to a window ledge filled with cigarette butts and used needles. 'Charming.'

"You think one of those spandex-wearing assholes will give you a second to catch your breath? Keep moving, Artemis."

Well, at least she didn't have to worry about that anymore. Nowadays, spandex typically meant the cape was on her side. The enemy uniform was usually bulky armor. Or, occasionally, a green kimono.

"Well look who I found." Echoed a soft voice, the smirk in its tone unmistakable.

Speaking of green kimonos…

Jade Nguyen, in all her cocky glory. She had forsaken the Cheshire costume tonight, but even in an emerald green baseball cap and a standard tank-top-and-pants combo, there was no mistaking the deadly coyness of one of the world's best assassins.

"You look like shit" she joked lightly, taking in Artemis's own black tank and cargo pants, both soaked in sweat, along with her frizzy hair and quietly heaving shoulders.

"What do youwant?" Artemis sighed, tilting her head skywards to catch her least favorite sibling perched on the roof of the same building as if she owned the place, mask free, but with a signature Cheshire grin nonetheless. She didn't bother to shift into a fighting stance, but the glint of a barely-concealed dagger in her hand and the shine of steel in her eyes made the message clear: the archer wouldn't start a fight, but she was more than prepared to finish one.

"Nothing from you, actually." She replied, making her way from the roof to the windowsill as if it were a walk in the park. "I'm out here for the same thing you are."

"Sightseeing?" The blonde remarked dryly, gesturing to the mostly abandoned, entirely unsightly portion of the city they were lounging in, currently cloaked with a thick layer of fog, the ever-present layer of smog, and a generous dusting of grime.

"To clear my head. Maybe reminisce on our lovely childhood."

Artemis snorted at that. "We spent so much time training here, I sometimes dream I'm falling through a collapsed ceiling again."

"You really did do that a lot"

"Yeah, still got the scars too." They both grinned at that. If there were any onlookers, the resemblance would have been uncanny.

And there they sat, looking up at the stars, both remembering a time that seemed so far away now.

Artemis would never tell anyone, not even under duress, but there were bits of brightness in those tiresome training runs in the middle of horrible Gotham nights. The feeling of flying, the solitude, the way that, just in those moments, she felt powerful. Like she really was the goddess she was named after-a huntress, a wildling, and one with the moon itself. And in the moments she stumbled, as even a goddess did, she had she sister to help her up and her mother to encourage her to keep going. Even her father was more tolerable back then.

And then her mother went to jail, her sister fled, and her father turned even more ruthless.

"Jade, can I ask you something?"

The assassin said nothing, but cocked an eyebrow to show she was listening.

"Do you know what Markov's been up to lately?"

Jade narrowed her eyes in warning, looking every bit as feline as the cat she was named for. "Let's not talk shop, dear sister."

"So, she's still a Shadow"

"Not that it's any of your concern, but she wasn't exactly much of a Shadow to begin with."

"So, a rogue?"

"You know how she is. She goes where she pleases, when it suits her. I haven't seen her in years and I'd rather not start now." Jade regarded her sister suspiciously now, "why are you so curious about her anyway? Looking to invite her to a Team slumber party?" she mocked, only part joking.

"Nope, just trying to pin her down."

At this, Jade turned away, looking back up towards the quiet night sky. "I don't know why you'd be looking for Markov, but I've heard the rumors about you two." A pause, then "She's a lot stronger then she used to be, you know."

"If I didn't know any better I'd think you were worried."

"Please, I could kill that tiny blonde with both hands tied behind my back. Markov doesn't scare me. But for some reason, she's under your skin. And the people you know the best tend to be the hardest to kill." Jade met her eyes again now, smirking as if she owned the world "Believe me, I would know."

"Gee, thanks for that." Artemis quipped, rolling her eyes at the implication "Best sister in the world. And you don't need to be worried, I'm not looking to kill her. I just have a score to settle."

For once, Jade ignored the jab and focused on the much more serious issue "That's worse, Artemis. If this is the same Markov I know, she's not going to be taken prisoner. It's going to come down to you or her, so you better have what it takes. She's one hell of a killer, and we both know your little Team isn't much use against a Shadow, former or otherwise."

At this, the steel in Artemis's eyes came burning back. "Trust me, if I'm right about her, she'll wish I had them holding me back."

"Hey Rae! Come play with me!"

Raven Roth, all-powerful half demon with quite possibly the least cheery disposition of any teenager to ever exist, looked up from the thick tome in her hands to see a certain changeling practically beaming at her from over the couch, videogame controller in hand.

"You know I don't like videogames, Beast Boy"

"Aw c'mon, you played last week!"

"Gluing my hands to the controller doesn't really count as me playing the game… And besides, I don't exactly see the allure of being a primate-no offense."

"Okay, so 'Mega Monkeys' wasn't your thing, but that doesn't mean you don't like all videogames. Why don't you at least try this one?" Seeing her hesitation, he added "If you hate it, you totally get to say, 'I told you so'." Before morphing into a dog and literally giving her puppy dog eyes.

"…Fine" Raven sighed, watching her teammate's face light up like a Christmas tree.

"Yes! This is going to be so much fun, Rae, you'll see! Let me get the multiplayer set up and then I'll start teaching you the rules."

Sighing again, Raven Roth floated over to the couch, where Gar seemed to be fiddling with a list of settings on the TV. The words 'Ultimate Gunman' were displayed on the top of the screen in a tacky 'blood' font.

"So, what's this one about?"

"This is a first-person shooter game. You play online against other people and try to find and kill them before they can kill you."

"Sounds a lot like our actual job"

"Nah, this is way more bloody!"

"Fantastic. Can't wait." The empath muttered sarcastically.

"Okay, done! Now first I'm gonna play the tutorial and let you figure out the controls…"

Thirty minutes later, Raven Roth and Garfield Logan found themselves sitting side by side on the couch, well into their third round of the game. Raven's character (who Gar had insisted on making her customize, even though she would have been fine using the default) jumped onto a ledge and expertly sniped another user, while Gar's was on the other side of the map, sneaking around an alleyway.

"Nice shot, Rae!" Gar yelled, ungluing his eyes from his side of the screen to glance over at the demoness.

"Thanks" she muttered, not bothering with the same courtesy. Gar took her in-brows furrowed in concentration, shoulders pitched forward, large, violet eyes narrowed at the screen-and smiled softly. Raven was often standoffish at best and downright frigid at worst, insisting that it came with the demonic territory, but seeing her losing herself in a game, having fun for once, he couldn't imagine her as anything but human. And the fact that he got to do that, that she was letting her guard down for him? It made his stomach do flips, like he was at the top of a rollercoaster and the best part was yet to come.

And then, several things happened at once.

The sound of artificial gunfire rang through the room, and a familiar character death screen flashed across Raven's half of the TV. This was followed by a rather unfamilar, high-pitched yelp from the demoness, as well as a loud pop as one of the couch cushions exploded, showering the unlikely duo in feathers.

When the dust -er, feathers- had settled, the changeling turned his attention to the empath. Physically, she seemed fine, but instantly he could sense her mood had changed. She looked even paler than usual, her body was coiled like a spring, and her facial expression could only be described as completely mortified. Before he could reach out to her or ask her what was wrong, she dropped the controller as though it was burning, and half rose, half tumbled off the couch.

"I knew this was a bad idea. Now, if you'd excuse me, I'll be in my room, meditating."

"Rae, wait!" The changeling cried, bolting off the couch himself, and instinctively grabbing her wrist.

"It's Raven. And please, Beast Boy, I need to be alone."

"Oh, come on, what's the big deal? So what if you blew up a stupid cushion, M'gann told me that Connor used to break everything before he got the whole super strength thing figured out! And anyway, it's not like pillows are expensive, we can just go buy more!"

"The 'big deal' is that I shouldn't be making anything explode, Garfield! My powers are dangerous, they're evil, and I know that! I knew I couldn't take the risk of feeling like you can without destroying everything, and I still couldn't help myself!" The empath replied, frustration, sadness, and unspeakable pain shining in her eyes.

Now, Garfield Logan knew he could be stupid at times. He knew that when it came to the team, he wasn't the best battle tactician, or the best physicist, or even the best at grammar. But in this moment, he realized he'd figured out something that the Team's resident empath didn't.

He'd save the victory dance for later.

"I don't believe you, Rae." He said gently, letting go of her wrist and looking up at her with all the softness he could muster (in the hopes that she wouldn't kill him for such a statement).

Luckily for him, she only looked at him in disbelief, prompting him to continue "You were pretty mad just now, yelling and everything, and guess what? Nothing else is exploding."

The empath looked around the room, and, upon realizing he was right, turned her attention back to the Team's resident animal expert.

"You were startled, Rae. And your powers acted out. It happens to everyone."

"Really?"

"Yeah! The first time someone snuck up on me after I got my powers, I accidentally turned into a field mouse. Got stuck that way for an hour, too. A whole hour, Rae." He chuckled at the memory now and noticed that the demoness had cracked a tiny smile at the thought of his misfortune.

"See? Your feelings just changed, and still no explosions." He said, returning to the couch and picking up his neglected controller with a grin in her direction. "Now c'mon, we still haven't won a round"

"Gar…what if it's not the throw pillows I blow up next time?"

The changeling laughed in the earnest now, blinking up at Raven with shining, emerald eyes. "You don't have to worry about me, Rae. I annoy you all the time! Pretty sure if your powers were going to make me explode into a million pieces, they would have done it when I glued you to a controller."

Beast Boy had a point. He knew he had a point. He just had to wait for her to figure it out.

And when he finally picked up the sounds of a soft sigh and light feet padding towards him, he allowed himself to turn back to the screen and decided this was worth at least five victory dances.

He was content to head back into the game when he felt the weight on the couch shift to accommodate his partner, until he felt a delicate hand on his shoulder. Turning towards the empath, he noted, with a healthy degree of shock, that there was a slight flush on her cheeks and a shine in her eyes.

"Thanks." She said quietly, before quickly turning away and levitating her own discarded controller into her lap.

And months from this moment, Garfield Mark Logan would look back and realize that the words your feelings just changed were hopelessly ironic.

AN: So, hopefully that healthy dose of BBRae takes away from the span of my absence? I figured I'd finally built up their relationship as friends and confidants enough that I'd feel comfortable introducing romantic feelings. Also, I realize I never really looked at the timeline of events when I started this story because I was a dumb thirteen-year-old. So basically, this story is canon divergent, and because I wanted Rocket in the story, takes place in the December of the year we follow the Team in in Season 1. I still want to (mild spoilers) add the whole 'mind-controlled League' plot, so I'm going to have the whole story take place over the span of a year and push the leadup to that craziness to the end of the year. So basically, most of the events of Season 1 took place in 2010 but the leadup to the season finale will take place in December 2011. And currently, in this story, it's around March 2011 because we have *a lot* left to do. Cool?