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Title: Beat Down, Lift Up
Fandom: Young Justice
Characters/Pairing: Artemis, Robin
Rating: PG
Word Count: 585
Summary: Weak unworthy replaceable, she beats herself up to a rhythm.
A/N: For a prompt on
yj_anon_meme. Artemis pushes herself too hard; Robin notices and confronts her.
One, two. One, two. The punching bag sways with every strike.
I wonder if your position’s secure enough…
One, two. One, two. Chin-ups for arm strength, as vital to an archer as her bow.
She got away. It was dark.
One, two. One, two. The final arrow lands just shy of its target. She rips it from the wall and snaps it in half.
Do not hurt my friends.
One, two. One, two.
“You’ve been in here for like six hours.”
She closes her eyes. Should have seen him; heard him. Fists clenching even harder around the bar, she considers throwing it across the room. But who is she kidding? She doesn’t have super strength, and her arms are dangerously sore - can’t even take a day’s workout.
Gloved hands close around her own before she can react. “Look,” says Robin, eyes unreadable behind his mask, “I think I know what you’re going through, but if you’re gonna be a moron about it, at least let me spot you.”
She should protest, wants to spit insults and push herself harder faster stronger until she’s too drained to move, too tired to think. She nods instead, knowing he’s right, and hasn’t she alienated these people enough?
One, two. One, two.
“Working on a team is weird, huh?”
She lets him talk, staring at the ceiling and blinking only to clear sweat from the corners of her eyes.
“Me and Batman were a unit. It was just the two of us, and we just knew what we had to do, you know? We didn’t even have to talk. When I got here, I’d forgotten what it was like to have to communicate the way a team has to. I screwed up my chances at being leader because I don’t know how to actually tell people what to do.”
One, two. One, two. Her muscles strain against the weight. The kevlar of Robin’s gloves scrapes lightly at the sides of her hands.
“We’ve all got issues. Baggage. It’s part of the job, you know? It sucks when people treat us like kids, but we kind of are, even if we’re a lot more awesome than most kids. Aqualad and Miss Martian spend half their time being homesick and KF gets bullied at school by seniors who don’t know he saves the world on a weekly basis. I don’t have superpowers. It’s kinda cool having somebody else around who knows what that’s like.”
One, two. One, two. She doesn’t know how much more of this she can take. It’s heavy.
“People are always gonna underestimate you and treat you like a kid, and probably like a girl. They’re not gonna get that you’re more than that and that you’ve rescued them from stuff people twice your age shouldn’t even have to see. That’s what being a hero is. But you’ve got us. You’ve got a team. You’ve got people who do get it.”
One, two. One, two.
“You’ve got me.”
She drops the weight.
Breathe.
“You don’t have to talk about it, but you don’t have to hide, either. I’ve got a sick, twisted past I can’t talk about too. I can still talk about other stuff. To you, right?”
She nods.
“Cool. Just don’t hurt yourself. We can’t use a busted archer and I don’t want a busted friend. I’m gonna go get lunch; you wanna come?”
He extends a hand, and Artemis takes it.
She feels her heart thumping steady in her chest.
One, two. One, two.
Fandom: Young Justice
Characters/Pairing: Artemis, Robin
Rating: PG
Word Count: 585
Summary: Weak unworthy replaceable, she beats herself up to a rhythm.
A/N: For a prompt on
yj_anon_meme. Artemis pushes herself too hard; Robin notices and confronts her.One, two. One, two. The punching bag sways with every strike.
I wonder if your position’s secure enough…
One, two. One, two. Chin-ups for arm strength, as vital to an archer as her bow.
She got away. It was dark.
One, two. One, two. The final arrow lands just shy of its target. She rips it from the wall and snaps it in half.
Do not hurt my friends.
One, two. One, two.
“You’ve been in here for like six hours.”
She closes her eyes. Should have seen him; heard him. Fists clenching even harder around the bar, she considers throwing it across the room. But who is she kidding? She doesn’t have super strength, and her arms are dangerously sore - can’t even take a day’s workout.
Gloved hands close around her own before she can react. “Look,” says Robin, eyes unreadable behind his mask, “I think I know what you’re going through, but if you’re gonna be a moron about it, at least let me spot you.”
She should protest, wants to spit insults and push herself harder faster stronger until she’s too drained to move, too tired to think. She nods instead, knowing he’s right, and hasn’t she alienated these people enough?
One, two. One, two.
“Working on a team is weird, huh?”
She lets him talk, staring at the ceiling and blinking only to clear sweat from the corners of her eyes.
“Me and Batman were a unit. It was just the two of us, and we just knew what we had to do, you know? We didn’t even have to talk. When I got here, I’d forgotten what it was like to have to communicate the way a team has to. I screwed up my chances at being leader because I don’t know how to actually tell people what to do.”
One, two. One, two. Her muscles strain against the weight. The kevlar of Robin’s gloves scrapes lightly at the sides of her hands.
“We’ve all got issues. Baggage. It’s part of the job, you know? It sucks when people treat us like kids, but we kind of are, even if we’re a lot more awesome than most kids. Aqualad and Miss Martian spend half their time being homesick and KF gets bullied at school by seniors who don’t know he saves the world on a weekly basis. I don’t have superpowers. It’s kinda cool having somebody else around who knows what that’s like.”
One, two. One, two. She doesn’t know how much more of this she can take. It’s heavy.
“People are always gonna underestimate you and treat you like a kid, and probably like a girl. They’re not gonna get that you’re more than that and that you’ve rescued them from stuff people twice your age shouldn’t even have to see. That’s what being a hero is. But you’ve got us. You’ve got a team. You’ve got people who do get it.”
One, two. One, two.
“You’ve got me.”
She drops the weight.
Breathe.
“You don’t have to talk about it, but you don’t have to hide, either. I’ve got a sick, twisted past I can’t talk about too. I can still talk about other stuff. To you, right?”
She nods.
“Cool. Just don’t hurt yourself. We can’t use a busted archer and I don’t want a busted friend. I’m gonna go get lunch; you wanna come?”
He extends a hand, and Artemis takes it.
She feels her heart thumping steady in her chest.
One, two. One, two.