This Story Occurs Pre-Insecurity

—

brace yourself rightly for my heaps of faith;
they drain fuzzy and dry normally through my hands.
with the end we will know it was all a mistake, but
at the brink we'll collect our scarring scarlet sands
and relate
though there isn't enough hope in us left to break.

—

One - Artemis

It's a good thing my bow and TASER arrows are leaning up against some wall in the locker rooms, far away, because all I want to do right now is stick one or two in Wally's face.

"You know what, Wally? I'm honestly IMPRESSED," I say coolly.

His smirk morphs long enough for one of his eyebrows to shoot up at me. I feel a twisted sense of satisfaction that I've thrown him off his game, at least for a second.

"Because I saved you the trouble of humiliating us all YET again…?" he asks, regaining his cheeky.

Tightening my jaw, I snarl back in the most pleasant sounding tone I can manage, "Because no matter how low my expectations for you seem to sink, you CONSISTENTLY make them go LOWER."

Robin's signature cackle dances in from the living room, cutting off Wally's response. "That's what SHE said!"

"SHUT UP, ROBIN!" we snap in unison. I hear Zatanna shush him too from her place on the other side of the couch.

I take the distraction to reiterate bitterly, "I missed that shot, Baywatch! THAT'S me admitting it, okay? But we GOT Clayface in the end! What do the technicalities even MATTER to you now?"

Wally crosses his arms in that infuriating way of his that boasts that he knows more than anyone in the room. I would punt him in the jewels if I hadn't already learned the hard way that he wore a groin cup almost 24/7.

He swallows a fistful of chips from the bowl on the island before answering, matter-of-factly, "If YOU'D been paying more attention to where he was running instead of what everyone else was doing, we would have caught him HOURS ago. And I would have had time to be home for Game of Thrones."

"Are you SERIOUS?" I shout at him, throwing my hands up. "THAT'S what this is all about? Put it on the freaking DVR!"

He plays offended. It's a look the jerk should definitely play more often.

"And record over M'gann's favorite sitcoms? No way I would do that to my favorite Martian!" he declares.

"Oh…wow! That mission really took some of the unf out of our bikes!" M'gann suddenly mentions, anxiously pushing away from the counter on the other side of the kitchen. "Conner, we should REALLY go fix them…now."

I watch his swagger deflate as M'gann pulls a confused Conner out of the room with some deserved relish, even if it WAS one of her most obvious tactics to get out of involvement in our spats. I'm happy it bothers him like it does, though I'm not totally sure why I can't convince myself to drop the topic altogher.

"If you want to criticize my skill set, I'll be MORE than happy let you take up the bow in my place," I challenge. "Hey, maybe then I'll get a chance to run around in circles saying witty things in the middle of a fight!"

Wally holds up his hands as if to placate me, grudgingly returning to the argument I wasn't finished with. His peace offering is made moot by his eye roll. "I wasn't trying to CRITCIZE you, Blondie—"

"Oh, right," I cut in sarcastically, because I'm especially bitchy, "Who died and made you Batman?"

"I was only trying to SAY," he says, louder, "that ROY would've made that shot. That's all."

And there's the rub.

He says it so easily, so backhanded. Like he hasn't been running this gag in my face or behind my back from day one. Like nothing I EVER do will ever be good enough for the team, or for HIM, because I'm just a cheap replacement for Red Arrow.

I'm so mad, I'm shaking. My fists clutching at the Cheetos bowl under my arm that I'd completely forgotten that I was supposed to be eating.

"Well here's a reality check, Kid Doofus!" I shout. "I'm NOT Roy! ROY's not here! And Roy's not coming back! So either put on your big boy briefs and DEAL with it or GET OUT OF MY FACE about it before I shove an arrow up your—!"

"Artemis!" Kaldur exclaims, no doubt appalled at my language. No doubt everyone is, especially if Wally's face is any indication.

But I'm too pissed to care. Without thinking, I grab the Cheetos bowl from under my arm and throw it at Wally's face, not even waiting to savor the bowl sitting on his head, hat-like, before turning tightly and storming out of the kitchen.

Almost four months I've been working on this team. Four months fighting alongside him, saving his ass and him saving mine and STILL I'm getting crap from him about being second best? You can go to hell, Wally West! You can go STRAIGHT to hell and find yourself another fucking archer to be your target practice because I have every right mind to go home right now and never come back.

I'm done with this crap.

One - Wally

Wow. TOUCH-Y.

I pick a Cheeto out of my hair, because it's really a waste of food on her part, and comment, "Sheesh. Lesson learned trying to talk to Artemis when she's PMSing."

Kaldur shoots me one of the dirtiest looks I've riled out of him. Which is saying something. "That was uncalled for, Wally."

I inhale Cheeto powder in my surprise. "Me?" I cough, bewildered and choking. "SHE'S the one who threw a hissy fit and ATTACKED me!"

"Because you continue to insist on comparing her to Red Arrow," he says firmly.

"I was only pointing out the facts!" I say to my defense, coughing out the last of the stuff. "Roy would've made that shot and we all know it!"

"Roy is not on our team." Kaldur crosses his arms. With his eel tattoos, it makes him look like he's being hugged by snakes. "Artemis is. And while she may have not phrased it most eloquently, she is correct in her advisement that you come to terms with this fact sooner rather than later."

He's taking her side! I can't believe it. Whatever happened to 'bros before hoes' and all that?

"Robs, bro, back me up here!" I call into the living room.

Dick ninjas into the doorway next to Kaldur before I've even turned back to it, shooting me the most sympathetic look he can manage with those stupid glasses of his.

"Sorry, man. Kinda on Kaldur's side on this one. You WERE being pretty douche-y to her…"

"COME on!" I throw my hands out. Some of the Cheetos I could have salvaged from my shoulders slide off. "She took it WAY too personally! Batman practically told her the same thing in debriefing!"

"Dude, not like THAT he didn't," my sorry excuse for a best friend replies, irritated.

M'gann would have taken my side, I tell myself. But with her gone, I turn to my last hope. I lean over the counter into the living room and ask in my suavest voice. "Zee, hey. ZeeZee. Didn't Artemis flip her lid for no reason?"

Zatana glances over the back of the couch uncertainly. All I need is a 'yes', babe...

"Well…" she hedges, "maybe you shouldn't have brought it up after we all changed back to civvies…?"

I'm screwed. It's a three to one vote and even if I'm wrong—which I'm not!—spending the evening at the cave as was the plan is going to be a pain in the ass if everyone's ganging up against me.

My arms slump back down to my sides. "Fiiiine," I grind out, beaten.

I take exactly two seconds to speed-eat every Cheeto Arty was SO kind to toss my way before speeding out of the kitchen, down the halls, past the training platform, and to the zeta tube transporter just as she's opening her mouth for voice recognition.

She jumps back at my sudden appearance. Damn, it's good to be me.

"SorryIbroughtupRoy," I say in a speedoflight monotone, crossing my arms over my chest.

Artemis just glares at me with those slanted eyes of hers. Sheesh, and I thought SUPERMAN had heat vision.

"Kaldur sent you to apologize, didn't he?"

"No," I say, and it's true. He didn't exactly tell me I had to apologize. Just to prove it, I add, "Seriously, why do you have to throw a bitch fit just because I bring up Roy?"

Stiffening, she moves to step around me. "Because you do it after EVERY OTHER damn mission," she answers in a snarl.

I hop back to barricade her again, answering, "I do not," automatically, before realizing she may have a point. "So what if I do? You should be USED to it by now. Not be so…emotional about it."

"Maybe SOME of us don't like to be constantly compared to our predecessors," she fires right back, stepping around me again. "Maybe SOME of us aren't as content as OTHERS to be constantly reminded that we're only ever going to be SECOND BEST."

She's getting me riled up and God help me if I don't hate her for it. "THIRD best, actually," I correct haughtily, stepping back again as I throw the jab back in her face. "Green AND Red Arrow could probably own you ANY time."

Artemis snorts unattractively. "That's rich coming from the THIRD fastest man alive."

I open my mouth to fire back that Jay was retired and so he doesn't count when I feel the tingling whoosh of sensation that comes with the Zeta beam transportation. Next thing I know, we're both materializing in the middle of an alley in the freezing wind. It's snowing in droves.

GREAT. In the middle of trying to apologize, the Zeta transporter must have thought I was going with her and scanned me up too. Perfect. Now I was stuck in Star City with my least favorite person in the universe.

Artemis looks startled for a second, like she's surprised to see me here too though I was OBVIOUSLY just talking to her. I can't even remember what I was supposed to be saying. Right, something about her stupid comeback…

But I don't get the chance before she starts buttoning up her jacket frostily.

"You know what? KEEP your apology, Wally. I don't need your sympathy OR your judgment. Stay out of my way, and the most I can promise is not to SHOOT you anyplace that'll need surgery."

"Like you could even catch me in your sights!" I call after her as she starts walking away. I'm tempted to button up my shirt too because it's freezing but I don't want her to think I'm copying her. My anger's keeping me warm just fine anyway.

She flips me the bird over her shoulder as she stalks towards the street. I blow her a raspberry and she snorts, "REAL mature."

I cross my arms again, a bit tighter this time to fend off the cold, as I turn right back around on the spot to grab the Zeta tube back to the toasty warm of the cave. Screw Artemis! If she wanted to be a bitch for no reason, it WASN'T my problem.

The recognition light on the concealed tube flashes once in the same second I hear the screeching tires. I turn towards the sound, idly curious, just in time to see the gray Mustang hit her.

Artemis slams into the windshield with her shoulder, her head, and flips over the top of the car in a flying mess of limbs and frantic blonde hair before sliding off the back.

It takes me an entire second to realize I'm frozen. By the time I remember I still have legs and superpowers, Artemis is almost to the pavement. I switch to instinct, reaction. Casual identity disappears. Kid Flash Hero Mode goes on at 100% capacity.

Next blink I skid under her and catch her in my arms before she hits the ground.

Half her face is starting to bleed. Her eyes are wide, wild. Her shoulder looks funny. Her arm is bent all wrong.

Experience tells me she should've brushed off the initial blow, bounced back to her feet spitting like a cat. So when she doesn't, when she just lays there in shock, staring at me with a thousand questions, the blood trickling down her face, I realize she may be in worse shape than I can see. My gut instinct says run her to a hospital. If she was a civilian, there wouldn't BE a second option. But my training screams stay, investigate, figure out who did this and why? How?

It's only been seconds. Artemis coughs once, hard. Blood splatters on my white undershirt.

Oh, yeah. Hospital. NOW.

I stand at traditional human speed—which is a hell of a lot slower than my adrenaline wants me to be moving—worried that if I pick her up too fast I may make everything worse.

"Artemis—"

Then the pain explodes across the back of my head. I'm aware of my arms going limp, dropping her, hitting the ground blearily myself.

Then blackness.

Author's Notes: An insanely late birthday gift for KagomeInu5 (also known as barru44allen also known as bella44swan also known as CHANGES_HER_USERNAME_EVERY_FEW_WEEKS), who got me watching YJ and shipping Spitfire to begin with. I wanted to try my hands writing something in the style of The Hunger Games and figured this would be the perfect venue to give it a shot.