A/n: Wow, I'm alive and I finished this chapter! After listening to Desperate Measures on repeat I felt the need to finish this chapter. Inspiration comes from everywhere! And I may even start on chapter 8 because I have fall break (even though it's so busy with studying and other things)

Well you can hide a lot about yourself, but honey, what are you gonna do?

And you can sleep in a coffin, but the past ain't through with you.

-My Chemical Romance

~Flashback~

-One and a half years ago, Family Apartment, New York City-

She doesn't remember how she manages to drag herself up into her room up the fire escape, but she awakens on her bed, the poison burned out of her system and a wicked hangover as a parting present. Artemis blinks blearily at the figure at the end of her bed, groaning when she makes out short blonde hair.

"Little girl, the Shadows are fed up with your disobedience. We tried to turn a blind eye, because of your skill, your potential. But this time you went to far. You had two people to kill. You can't even do that right. In your attempt to induce what I assume is brain damage so they couldn't remember they saw us assassinate someone, you put someone in a coma forever and killed the other, painfully. And then a guard managed to get you with a bullet laced with poison. You think you are trying to be better then us," he growls, stepping closer, "By 'sparing' those you deem worthy, like an angel of judgment. But you are an assassin, a hit man, and what you did is screw up two lives and scar a little girl for life when it could've been quick and clean."

Artemis resists the urge to puke, the synaptic nerves firing, bringing the unbidden images of a couple, their heads bleeding heavily, a small child screaming by their bodies.

She pushes herself up to her elbows, fighting a grimace at the pain in her leg.

"So, to recap. Operative doesn't do things cleanly. One adult in coma. One dead. One little girl saw her parents' heads bleed over the beige carpet. One Operative hit by bullet, poisoned. Don't disappoint me again." Lawrence says shortly, slamming the door as he stalks out of the room.

She rolls over to her side, half dry-heaving half coughing. She fights the urge to scream in rage in pain as her leg, untreated, throbs painfully. The blonde pulls herself up, peeling the layers back to observe the wound. The bullet was still in there, and the way her father spoke let her know that she was on her own with this one.

Grabbing a pair of socks, she takes one and hobbles to the bathroom, soaking it in hot water, and grabs a pair of thick tweezers. Twisting the other sock into a rope, the bites it in between her teeth and dabs the wound with the makeshift hot rag, and screams into the cotton as she digs out the pellet-sized bullet from her muscle.

Spitting out the sock, she presses her thumbs on the wound, stemming the fresh blood flow.

Artemis Crock hated her job.

~Flashback over~

Rolling over in the water, she wiggles her toes and closes her eyes, listening to Dick chatter away about life under the sea. She relaxes until she feels a hand close around her calf, jerking her into the deep water.

Coming up coughing, she splashes the offending fish-boy. "What the hell was that for?"

"You were falling asleep during my story, Arty-party," Dick pouts, dodging her punch with ease.

"Arty-party is not an adequate nickname."

"Artemis!" He gasps. "I cannot believe you would make fun of my culture! Just yesterday I told you how important it was to my people!" His blue eyes are agonizingly wide and his hair is messy and Artemis groans.

"You're abusing this whole 'my culture' stuff, fish-boy."

Compared to the serious talk they had the last time they were together, Dick seemed to have exploded into a hyperactive ten-year-old, though he had to be only a few years younger than her twenty years.

Checking her watch, she stands up, the note from Cheshire on the front of her mind. Your little friend might find himself in some trouble.

"Hey, 'Mis?" Dick asks, breaking her reverie, and she snaps to attention.

"Yeah?"

"I don't think…I'll be able to see you for a while."

Her chest constricts (she's only known him for a few days) and she closes off her face, slipping into her mask as easily as a snake into water (she's losing her first friend in a year).

Artemis swallows, and she watches Dick focus on the movement of her throat. He wouldn't meet her eyes. She turns around, making her way back to the shore, the ocean lapping at her eyes.

"Artemis!" He calls out, and she turns around, face impassive.

His eyes are full of hidden pain, and her face softens marginally. "I'm sorry."

When she opens her mouth to speak, she recognizes a look of panic in his eyes as he opens his mouth to speak again, it's the only warning she has. Twisting, she catches the arm of the Shadows Operative who had snuck up behind her (Had the sound of the ocean hid his steps, or was she rusty?) and she twists it to his back, the sharp crack of a shoulder dislocating telling her she's not as rusty as she thought.

"Artemis!" Dick yells, panic laced through his voice.

He's got to get out of here, Artemis thinks, the note fresh in her mind as she brutally brings her knee up in one attackers stomach, and grabs the wrist of another and twists it upward, breaking it.

…..

He'd never felt so powerless, watching her twist and pummel attackers. Like some kind of killer ballerina, she slammed and abused the men coming after her.

And here he was, stuck in the goddamn water. He pulls at the sand vainly, the shallow water washing around his tail, and he struggles until he thinks his muscles will give up, hoarsely echoing the name of the golden-haired girl who's fighting for her life. And suddenly, he's running. Running, towards the shore, on two legs.

As Artemis delivers a swift uppercut to her last attacker, she wipes the blood from her eye. She has a cut on her eyebrow, the blood flowing freely down her face, and she turns, panting, to Dick.

He stands in front of her, the muscles in his legs screaming at him for this abuse.

Artemis flinches back, her gaze flickering from his legs to his face. Taking a deep breath, she calms herself, and pinches the bridge of her nose. "Is there something you may have forgotten to mention? Like the fact that you do, indeed, have legs?"

He looks down at them, and back at her, and for once in his life, he's speechless. "I…I'm not really sure where they came from." Dick sputters, and Artemis closes her eyes, eyebrow twitching.

"You're not sure where they came from? You have goddamn legs!" She says, borderline hysterical. Artemis peeks at him, and then shuts her eyes again, cheeks beginning to redden. "And you're naked!" Artemis turns around now, scanning for her towel, and chucks it at him. "Wrap that around your waist. We've got to get you out of here." Artemis instructs, eyes still closed.

"Are you decent?" She asks, and Dick doesn't answer, still trying to tuck the end of the towel in order to keep it up. Artemis takes that as a yes, and opens her eyes. She takes the end of the towel and tucks it in herself, and now he's the one blushing, her fingers warm against his waist as they tuck the towel in.

Grabbing his arm, she starts pulling him away from the water, stopping in front of her glass and metal box and pulling out a pair of keys.

"What's that?"

"A car."

"What does it do?"

"It's transportation. Now get inside."

"I think I'd rather walk," he says nervously, and Artemis looks at his legs.

"On your brand new legs? I don't think so." She steers him by his shoulders to the other side, opens the strangely shaped door, and shoves him inside. Leaning over him, so her curtain of golden hair tickles his chest, she grabs a flattened rope and brings it diagonally across his chest, buckling it by his waist. He breathes out, her hair fluttering against his lips.

Standing back up, she carefully closes the door, and gets in on her side. The car roars to life, and Dick jumps.

"Sorry, she's a little noisy."

"She? It's alive?"

"No. It's just a girl." Artemis says, turning around, and the car rolls backwards. Dick fists his hands in the towel around his waist and closes his eyes. Maybe if he closes his eyes he'll be out of this damned beast.

….

Getting out of her car, she makes her way to the other side, opening the door and surveying her sleeping passenger. He had passed out within minutes of her starting the engine. He looks pretty cute asleep, she mentally notes. Leaning forward, she shakes his shoulder gently, and his eyes flicker open. He glances down, and groans. "I was hoping I merely had a terrible, terrible dream. No such luck there."

Rolling her eyes, she unbuckles his seat belt and gestures for him to get out of the car. Glancing around, his eyes squinting in the sunlight, he observes the surroundings. "Where are we?"

"My apartment." She says shortly, grabbing him by the wrist and pulling him towards the dank stairwell. Artemis scans her surroundings, knowing that the Shadows Operatives that she beat won't be the only ones they sent. Unlocking her door and shoving him inside, she sits him down on the couch and kneels down by him, sliding a box out from underneath the couch. Unlocking it, she pulls out her emergency compact crossbow (ignoring the gun, if she catches anyone in her apartment she wants them to be alive) and turns to the former mer, and signals him to be silent with a finger to her lips. She inches towards the bathroom first, opening the door and peeking around, finger wrapped around the trigger. Artemis follows the same procedure for the laundry room and the closet, and doesn't release a sigh until she's sure they're safe.

"Who were those people?" Dick asks quietly, and Artemis glances at him, silently weighing her options.

Turning away and rummaging in her dresser, she answers him. "Old acquaintances of mine."

"What, did you piss them off or something?"

"You could say that."

"What did you do? Steal their candy?"

Instead of answering, Artemis chucked a pair of shorts and a tee shirt at him. She had some of Cameron's old clothes that she wore to bed, and she thought they should fit him.

Five minutes later, Dick Grayson walks out of the bathroom. The tee shirt stretches over his shoulders (Cam was always lean) and Artemis swallows, mouth dry.

Shuffling his feet, Dick looks up at her. "I'm not sure how I feel about these clothes. Are you sure I have to wear them?"

"Yes," Artemis says, coughing loudly and looking down to cover her blush. "I'm very sure."

Turning a critical eye towards her rapidly flushing face, he smirks briefly. "See anything you like?" He mocks, spinning slowly to give her the full 360. She swallows as the tee shirt, old and soft, stretches across his surprisingly broad shoulders.

"Not really." She remarks casually, turning around and padding towards her own bedroom. "I'll be out in a moment."

Rustling through her clothes pile for something relatively clean, she shimmies out of her one piece and into some underwear. Grabbing a bra hanging on one bedpost, she clasps it and wiggles her arms through the straps. Glancing down at her torso, she fingers an old and stretched scar under her belly button.

Sighing, she grabs an old tee shirt of Cameron's. The door bursts open, revealing an alarmed Dick Grayson. "There's something making a very loud noise!" He yells over the sound of her cell phone ringing in the living room, and then pauses, taking in her apparel. Scowling, she tosses the balled up shirt at him. "Turn around, you perv." He obliges, and Artemis darts towards him, grabbing the tee shirt she had just thrown at him, and pulls it over her head. It's long enough to cover the important parts, so she winds around him to reach the phone before it rings to voicemail. The caller ID declares it's a PRIVATE caller, and Artemis frowns briefly before answering.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Tigress dear. I take it you saw some old friends, if that cut on your face is any indication." Cheshire crackles over the phone, and Artemis spins around, looking through the windows in the living room to see where the Operative could be hiding.

"Tch, no peeking," Cheshire drawls over the phone.

Hanging up, Artemis turns to the former mer.

"We need to get somewhere safe."

"Where did all those scars come from?" He interrupts, and she squints at him. Dick gestures to her figure. "You have them all over your stomach. And your arms and legs. I didn't notice them in the water, I guess."

She shrugs listlessly, face stony, and brushes by him. He catches her shoulder. "What's happening?" He whispers, fear breaking over his face. Her stony countenance crumbles, and she places what she hopes is a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"I'll keep you safe."

'Cause we're all a bunch of liars, tell me, baby, who do you wanna be?

And we are all about to sell it, 'cause it's tragic with a capital T.