All right, this is my first prompt for Wally/Artemis Week. If it's rushed, blame it on my procrastination. I'll be uploading all the prompts into one story, so I don't have to name everything, because naming stories is extremely difficult for me.
Fandom: Young Justice
Rating: T for mentions of killing and swears.
"People like that," Wally shakes his head, pulling off the cowl as he paces around the living room. Artemis glances up from the table in the kitchen, eyebrow raised. "I just—" he pauses, running a hand through his hair. "They deserve everything that comes to them. Y'know?"
Crossing and un-crossing her legs, Artemis shrugs. "Not sure I do."
Wally narrows his eyes at her, mouth opening and closing. "I—have you not been watching TV?"
"…should I have been?"
Speeding over to her, Wally makes the papers she's looking at flutter across the table top. Grimacing, she gives him a look. "What happened?"
"You—some guy just held up a bank and shot a girl!"
She knows he's beating himself up for not being there. He's angry he wasn't fast enough. "Where were you?"
"Taking out the other shooters. They were everywhere, in apartments across the street, on roofs." He exhales sharply, and Artemis kicks a chair out with her foot, signaling for him to sit.
"He shot her," Wally murmurs, hand running over his face. "I didn't think he'd do it, I've been up against this guy before, and the last time he was just…scared. And he actually did it."
Taking his hand in hers, Artemis scoots her chair closer. "You couldn't have known, Wally."
"That's not the point, Arty," he mutters, green eyes meeting hers. "I shouldn't have let him use her as bait. But I did, and he shot her."
She's not sure what to say, so she doesn't say anything. Instead, her eyes wander to where his suit tore, and how she can feel bits of gravel where they're hands are touching, embedded into the suit. There's a long scrape on his jaw, but it's already healing. She watches the skin stitch itself back together.
Taking a breath, she tilts his chin up so he's looking at her. "It's not your fault."
Wally sighs, gripping her hand tighter. "I know, I do, believe me. I just—hate people like that. How can it be so easy to take someone's life?"
Images of herself and her father flicker through her mind. She sees her foot, pressed against that man's chest, pressing down as the tip of her arrow marks its path in his throat—
"I'm not sure," she tells him. Because that's what Wally wants to hear. He doesn't want to know that she's killed before. He doesn't want to know that she's killed, and not a day in her life has she regretted it. And it doesn't matter that it was revenge. It doesn't matter that her father smiled a little more that day, because she finally showed him her true nature. It doesn't matter.
"Do you want soup? I can—um, make some. I guess. If you like Campbell's…in the microwave." She tries for a smile, and Wally's mouth lifts a bit. "I'm gonna jump in a shower first. Okay? Then we'll have soup," he leans forward, pressing his lips against hers.
God, she loves this. Artemis' hand comes up, holding his face to hers for a little longer. Finally, both pull away, and Wally winks before speeding to the bathroom.
When she hears the shower start, Artemis lets out a breath she didn't know she was holding. She squeezes the back of her neck, shutting her eyes.
"If only you knew," she mutters, opening her eyes and looking towards the hallway, where Wally had disappeared. "God, you'd hate me."
Thinking back, Artemis can't say she regretted it. There are few moments in her life that she's regretted what she's done, and this, killing the man who put her mother in that wheel chair, she'll never regret. Even though she hated the way her dad gripped her shoulder, murmuring about what a great job she'd done, telling her that her first kill is always the best, she felt better.
Maybe it should scare her—disgust her—that she cares so little, but it doesn't. The man got what he deserved. An eye for an eye, and whatnot.
So when Wally comes out of the bathroom ten minutes later, hair dripping, jogging pants slung low, Artemis whips him in the ass with a dish towel and gives him a kiss.
Secrets are meant to be kept, anyway.
For anyone who didn't get the secret, it's that she's killed before, and she hasn't ever really felt bad about it.