Disclaimer: I do not own Young Justice.
Author's Note: For the "Pain is weakness" challenge on YJFC. Prompt: hemophobia, the fear of blood. Kind of Drabblish.
She had been afraidof it ever since she was five years old. She had been afraid of it ever since she saw pools of it flooding out of herself, flooding out of her mother.
She had just been picked up from school and her and her mother were going out for ice cream. They were listening to the radio and singing along. Even dancing a bit when the traffic light was red.
But then the light turned green, and everything went down hill from there. A huge SVU came out of nowhere and ran their red light, the car collided with hers and they were sent tumbling across the lanes.
The sound of metal crashing, glass shattering, her screams, her mom's screams. She felt her body being thrashed around then frantic arms trying desperately to wrap around her, to protect her. She wasn't the one in need of protecting though.
They finally stopped, and faint sirens and shouts could be heard through the intense ringing in her ears. Her vision was clouded and her arm was bent the wrong way. She was crying her eyes out, a million times harder than when she scrapes her knee after falling off her bike.
She called out for help, called out for her mother. The sirens grew louder and shouting could be now heard as well.
The car was crushing them, covering them in torn metal, shards of glass and fuel.
A smell tingled her nose. A strong, disgusting, vomit-provoking stench. It smelled like rust, burning rust. It consumed her, intoxicated her.
She then found the source of the smell.
A crimson think and sticky fluid that was rushing out of her. Her head, leg, arm, chest - everywhere. It stained her clothes and her nose. Her tears and blood mixed together on her face and around her.
She could feel the puke forming in her mouth - choking her. She looked around desperately through the haze for her mother. It the front of the totaled car was a huge pool of blood to large and far away to be her own. It was dripping down. An arm in waves, it was raining from an unknown part of her mother.
She could not hold it back any longer, she threw up. The combined smells of gasoline, tears, puke, and of course blood, were to much to handle. The stench consumed her and drifted to her into darkness just as the wrecked car doors were being pried off...
They said she was lucky. Lucky that in that severe of an accident that all she got was a few scrapes, bruises and a broken arm. Her mom wasn't so lucky.
From that day on her mom was forced to remain in an ugly metal chair for the rest of her life. Unable to pick her daughter up from school, go to the market, or even leave there third floor apartment. Her mom was trapped, and so was she.
When ever she saw blood that day would return to her, that smell would return to her. Sure seeing a person bleeding from a paper cut wasn't enough to make her puke or pass out, but it was enough for her to get all sweaty and nauseous.
When it was more than just a paper cut - a scraped knee, large gash - she would run out of the room and be hunched over the toilet for at least a half hour. Sometimes she threw up, sometimes she didn't, it all depends on how much there was.
Even if it was fake blood in a movie the stench would return, the images too. She tried to close her eyes and shake it off, but it was to late. She can't go to action or horror movies ever again.
When it was her own blood it was an entirely different story. The stench returned, so did the images, but they had a different affect on her. It didn't make her sweat, or puke, or pass out, it made her cry.
She could not stand the pain, the fear, the damn oder. Because she could have done nothing to save her mother from her prison, or to save herself from the guilt. It made her feel weak, which in turn made her feel sick.
So it would seem strange that she would become a vigilante. Always in danger, always open to injury, open to bleeding. Even more that she was working on a team. If they were to spill some blood they would see just how weak she could be. It was one of the reasons she was an archer, not just because she was good at it, but because if any of them were to bleed it would be to far away for her to notice - hopefully.
It is odd, but it's how she copes with it. Bringing down bad guys and saving innocent lives. It keeps her from feeling weak, feeling vulnerable. It kept her feelings of guilt locked away deep inside her.
She did this for her, for her mother. Even if her mom didn't like it, she knew she was proud of her and who she was growing up to be.
Artemis knew the crimson was the color of fear, but it also was the color of change,for better and for worse.
I'll have to admit, Artemis has grown a little on me like Miss. M did. Mainly because of the scene in "Downtime" and now that we have her last name - which is Crock - we can look things up about her. She was about 90% altered from her comic book self. Go to Wikipedia and you will find it.
Also, was not in the front seat, and was in a car seat in the back diagonal from driver seat.
I normally do Robin centric stories - with a few exceptions - but it would be to obvious and strange to have Robin fear blood. I know, I know it could relate to his parents deaths and all but he is the one most likely in the group to bleed, so I don't see how that would work. So yeah, I did Artemis because I could have a bit more freedom with it.
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~ Sincerely MNM