Oops. Another Young Justice.

Super writers block with Teen Titans at the moment, so this popped up. I think I may have been listening to the 'Drive' Soundtrack on repeat for like.. five days when I wrote this. Great film, check it out. However, I'm not super happy with this, but I've been sitting on it for a few days with no improvement, so it's going up.

Disclaimer: Don't own YJ, or the beautiful song 'A Real Hero,' which inspired this little piece.

Please Read and Review. They make me smile :).

Motion

The bright city lights blurred slightly as he kept his eyes fixed looking out his passenger side window. The constant change of light to dark and back again was soothing. He wasn't sure why the city lights were so mesmerizing tonight. He presumed because they were managing to keep his mind preoccupied, instead of letting it maul and overthink the night's events. He let his head rest against the back of the cloth seat, still gazing out the passengers' window. He loved the eerie glow that the city held at night. It seemed as if all the lights outlining the city were stained ever so slightly with an ice blue. It was rather prominent tonight too, he noticed. His vision delved into a soft focus as the rows and rows of street lights slowly passed him by.

The car passed a well-lit service station. He narrowed his eyes as the bright lights filled his vision. A moment later it passed and the rims of his eyes relaxed. Light pooled in almost perfect circles on the sidewalk every so many metres apart, cascading down from the bright bulbs housed within the lamp posts. The consistent flashes of light were a procrastinator to his busy thoughts. Flash. He switched his sight to the moving image of the Gotham streets before the car. Flash. The road ahead was long and laborious, and filled with lights. It reassured him to know that they were still a fair way from Mount Justice. Flash. The constant movement of the vehicle also seemed to be helping. He had to keep moving, to keep him from thinking, to keep him from boiling over, to keep him from snapping. Flash.

The blonde girl beside him in the driver's seat yawned. Flash. Her shoulders slumped over toward the steering wheel. Her dark eyes scanned the road lethargically, watching for anything abnormal. She was trying her best for him, he knew. She was fatigued, to say the least. The last few nights had been busy. The list went along the lines of: fires, bank robberies, a bridge collapse and a crazy psychopath who the thought the world would be a better place without factories that produced processed cereals. Yeah, he rolled his eyes. Not to mention, she and Wally had been fighting more often than usual.

She swiped the back of her right hands across her chapped lips trying to stifle another yawn.

He hoped she would just keep driving, keep the tyres rotating, keep the engine still running, just as long as he was in motion. Anything to keep him occupied. He didn't want to go home just yet. He couldn't. His brooding frustration would keep him from doing anything productive, including sleeping. He could feel pulses of anger evoking inside of him. His eyes narrowed again. He could go out and kick some hard evil arse, but he had an inkling that he might take it too far. The exact thing he had been scolded for a few hours prior. Flash.

She yawned again. The third time in the last five minutes. He wished she would stop. The constant exhale and inhale of air, and the expansion of her features on her face were irksome. He sighed heavily, trying to calm himself down. He realised he couldn't exactly stop her from yawning. He quashed the urge, deciding it wasn't her he was furious at. He was furious at Bruce Wayne, his mentor, his father, pretty much.

The blonde sent a concerned glance his way, letting her eyes leave the road for moment. "What's up?" she quizzed softly, noting his pissed expression of knotted eyebrows and snarly lips.

She turned her attention back to the road as he looked up, but not at her. "Nothing," the answer was short, sharp and stern, indicating the end of the conversation. He dropped his gaze again and let his mind introvert back into self-loathing.

"Dick," she sighed at his lame attempt to avoid the inevitable conversation. "It's three-thirty in the morning. I didn't drive all the way into Gotham for 'nothing'."

She was right, it wasn't 'nothing'. It was huge, infuriating, idiotic and downright fucking demeaning. His fists clenched into tight balls, the skin around his knuckles turning a bright white. He just wanted to punch something. It made him even more irate just thinking about it.

"I don't want to talk about it."

She flicked the lever that connected the cars blinkers. The annoying constant ticking of the painstakingly slow signal made him even more frustrated. She turned the car with care, strangely more cautious than she usually drove. Even that was adding to his building cantankerous mood.

"Dick-"

"Artemis, I said I don't want to talk about!" he cut her off with an exploding shout.

She snapped her head to look at him. Her eyebrows rose slightly in surprise. Her lip twitched slightly, unsure if she should continue to probe the already tetchy superhero. She pursed her lips and a frown crossed her face. She turned her attention back to the dark road in front.

As soon as the words had ripped from his mouth he had regretted them. He reminded himself, again, not to take his anger out on her. She had been gracious enough to pick him up from the Wayne mansion at three in the morning in her little black sports car.

"Sorry," he mumbled, not bothering to look up. He didn't want to see the expression on her face.

"It's alright," she spoke casually, dismissing his aberrant behaviour.

That was it. She didn't need any more than that. Artemis wasn't like that. She'd had her fair share of secrets, if not, slightly more than anyone else he knew, besides his own mentor. He had never questioned her about her past, despite the fact that he already knew most of it. She didn't question him about his either. And that was it. That's how they were. They didn't need to know anything else, just as long as they were both there for support. That was why he decided Artemis was the best choice when it came to late night car trips. After Wally, Artemis was probably the next in line, friend wise. Unlike Wally, she didn't crack inappropriately timed jokes. She would be willing to listen and give some sort of advice, even if it wasn't the most helpful.

Now he felt guilty, like she should know, like she had the right to know. The anger evaporated from his face as it turned into a solemn expression. He sucked his lips between his teeth for a moment. She always did this to him, made him spill out his most inner thoughts. He felt like he always had to tell her what was going on. She was unnerving like that.

"Bruce was.. just…" he trailed off, at a loss for words. He couldn't describe how Bruce had treated him. It was somewhere between disrespectful and –

"Treating you like a teenager?" She empathised, giving him a knowledgeable look.

Dick sighed, leaning an elbow in between the wedge of the window and door beside him. "Pretty much," he rolled his eyes and shifted his weight a little, immediately removing his elbow from the wedge. "He's treating me like I'm a reckless and rebellious teeny bopper," his ocean blue eyes brightened slightly in his frustration. "He's giving me more orders than usual. He's making me sit back and watch," as his thoughts became more erratic the more animated his gestures became. "Then, he has the audacity to give me a half hour lecture during the drive back to the cave about how I need to," he raised his hands and fingers to air quote, "'watch myself." He finally stopped and was somewhat startled; realising that what had just exploded from his mouth was word vomit.

The blonde, not the least bit overwhelmed by the teenager's sudden urge to talk, gave the younger teen another sympathetic look. "He doesn't see you that often anymore, Dick," she tried to conjure some reason within him. "Maybe he's just weird at expressing how much he misses you."

"He told me I was out of control," He blurted out, the anger rising within him making his cheeks flush a light shade of red.

An alarmed frown crossed the archers face. "I don't know, Dick," she shrugged, trying to wipe the frown from her features. "You are getting older," she articulated, "maybe he can't handle it." She narrowed her eyes, keeping a close watch on the passing streets in front of her. "Maybe you're just growing apart."

A deeply concerned expression flooded the younger teens face. Maybe you're just growing apart. Maybe. He was fifteen after all, bordering on sixteen. As much as he didn't want to admit it, he was struggling with the age. He was still a teenager, but he so desperately wanted to be independent. Bruce had no idea how to handle him. Bruce was never a teenager himself so how could he deal with one? Therefore, Dick was trying to spend less and less time with his father figure and more time with the team of six teenagers, who were much more capable of guiding him through one of the roughest patches of his life.

"Maybe," he spoke softly in reply, thoughtful. It seemed logical now that he had said it aloud. Maybe Batman and Robin were growing apart. Nothing lasts forever, as they say.

His eyes wondered to the blonde. Her face was more awake now, deeply concentrating on keeping the car on the road. He was a little surprised she wasn't driving like her usual reckless self. She was a good driver; she just preferred to be a hoon. It was more exciting, she would always say. He agreed. They often drove together at night. It was their only way of getting away from everything. The constant motion gave them time to think, or as Dick preferred on this occasion, to not think, which he was failing at.

His eyes dropped to her attire. She looked cute. She was wearing really short, white cotton boxers, a baggy black singlet matched with an olive green bra and a pair of black thongs. Her long blonde tresses were tied up in high pony tail. He had obviously woken her up, judging by her choice of bra underneath her black singlet and her messy bed hair. He hadn't meant to wake her so early, but he was desperate. There was no possible way he could spend one more minute at the mansion with Bruce or Alfred.

"Sorry," he apologised again, slowly turning his head to look at her.

She looked at him, deadpanning. "Stop apologising," she rolled her eyes and let her grip on the wheel loosen. "I'm counting on payback when you turn sixteen," She chuckled as a grin played on his lips.

As soon as her chortles died down she spoke again, "you know I'm always here if need me." She sent him a motherly smile and flicked a hand across to the mess up his perfectly set 'do.

He flinched back from the slender hands threatening to noogie his epic hairdo. He crashed his shoulder into the side of the door as she leaned towards him further, one hand still on the wheel. He further pushed his back into the car door, still trying to escape the hand. A smile broke out on his face as she finally pulled her hand away and placed it back on the steering wheel. "I know," he admitted, slightly embarrassed as he hung his head a little and shifted his position back to the middle of his seat.

She kept the same motherly smile. She must've been taking a page out of M'gann's book. He raised his head, turning fully to look at her. "The same goes for you too, Artemis."

Her smile dropped and her face turned serious. She knew exactly what he was talking about. Wally. Their relationship had become strained recently due to the sudden crime surge within the city. That meant less time at Mount Justice. It meant less sleeping, less eating.. less everything, including quality time with each other. Instead, heavy onsets of arguing took its place.

Silently she turned her attention back to the streets in front of her, signally the end of that moment.

"I'm serious, Artemis," the young teen pushed further. She nodded her head in compliance. "I know what he's like."

She kept silent, her face still serious. She turned the wheel unusually sharp, the most reckless stunt she had pulled all night. He drew back, realising he had pushed his luck.

He looked through the windshield, trying to get a position on where they were. Flash. The comforting flashes of light had come back into mind. He caught sight of a familiar street. They were on their way home.

"Artemis," he called, breaking the tense silence.

"Mm?" the sound reverberated through her lips, ready to shut him down if he were to mention Wally again.

"Can we keep driving for a little longer?"

He liked it when they drove together.

The same warm smile from before returned to her face making her eyes light up. "Sure."

He bit his lip, unsure if he should verbalise his next comment. "And," he began, "can we please drive a little faster?"

She raised her eyebrows in fake astonishment. The look quickly flipped to a grin, flashing her straight white teeth, making feel a little rebellious inside. She pressed her foot harder against the accelerator and he heard the engine roar to life.