WThe Cave was quiet that night—too quiet.
Damien leaned against the railing overlooking the training floor, eyes narrowed as he watched Artemis fire arrow after arrow at holographic targets. Her precision was flawless, but her rhythm was off. Every shot hit, but the tiny pauses between releases spoke louder than the impact.
Something was wrong.
"Your spacing's inconsistent," he said at last, his tone calm but sharp.
Artemis stiffened, lowering her bow. "Excuse me?"
"You usually fire in threes. Quick succession. Tonight, it's two… then a pause. Like you're hesitating."
She turned, bristling. "Maybe I'm just tired."
Damien didn't flinch. "Maybe. Or maybe something's distracting you."
Her eyes narrowed, defensive walls snapping up. "What, are you my therapist now?"
"Just an observation," Damien replied. His expression gave nothing away, but inside, his instincts burned. Artemis was hiding something. Something big.
Before the moment could stretch further, the zeta-tube flared.
"Recognized. Aqualad. B-02."
Kaldur strode into the room, his voice steady. "Team, gather. We have a mission."
The Bioship cut through the night sky, cloaked against radar. The city below was Gotham—a place Damien knew too well, every shadow alive with menace.
Robin tapped his holo-map. "Intel says the Shadows are moving through the Narrows. Weapons shipment, highly illegal. We intercept."
Miss Martian frowned. "The Shadows again? We've been hitting them a lot lately."
"Or," Robin said, "they've been letting us find them."
Damien's gaze flicked to Artemis. At the mention of the Shadows, she'd stiffened, her hands tightening on her bow. Subtle—but not subtle enough for him.
The Bioship landed in silence, and the Team spilled into Gotham's alleys. The streets smelled of rain, trash, and secrets.
"Eyes open," Aqualad ordered.
They moved in formation, weaving through crumbling brick and flickering streetlights—until the ambush came.
Figures dropped from the rooftops, blades flashing. Shadows agents swarmed the street like a tide. And at the forefront, leading them, was Cheshire.
Her mask gleamed in the dark as her voice purred. "Well, well. The little heroes."
Artemis froze. Just for a moment. But Damien saw it. The stillness. The sharp intake of breath.
And Cheshire saw it too.
"Artemis," she said smoothly, her tone dripping with mockery. "Still playing hero, little sister?"
The world seemed to stop.
The Team turned—every pair of eyes landing on Artemis.
"What?" Robin demanded.
But there was no time for answers. Cheshire lunged, and the street exploded into chaos.
Steel clashed, arrows flew, fists struck. The Shadows pressed hard, but the Team held their ground.
Superboy tore through enemy lines with raw power. Wally zipped around, disarming mercs. Robin fought like a blur of precision.
But in the middle of it all, Artemis faltered. Every move she made felt weighed down, every arrow loosed with hesitation.
And Cheshire didn't let up. She targeted Artemis again and again, taunting with every strike.
"Family always comes back together," Cheshire hissed, blades whistling. "You can't hide who you are."
Artemis barely blocked, her bow shaking.
Damien moved fast, intercepting Cheshire with his gauntlets, sparks flying as blade met blade. His expression was cold, unreadable. "Back off."
Cheshire smirked behind her mask. "Protecting her, are we? How sweet. How naïve."
She disengaged, slipping back into the crowd.
But the damage was done.
"Artemis," Aqualad demanded, his voice tight as he fought, "is it true?"
Artemis's face was pale, lips pressed tight. She couldn't answer.
And that silence was enough.
Superboy's growl cut through the noise. "She's one of them." His eyes burned with betrayal as he advanced, fists clenched.
"No!" Artemis shouted, desperation in her voice. "It's not like that!"
But Superboy didn't listen. He charged—straight at her.
And Damien moved.
His gauntlets lit up as he blocked Superboy's swing, the impact sending a shockwave through the alley. Sparks scattered, dust rising.
"Get out of my way!" Superboy roared.
"Not happening," Damien said flatly.
"She's lying to us!"
"She's still one of us!" Damien's voice cut through the chaos, sharp as steel.
The two clashed, blow for blow. Superboy's raw strength crashed against Damien's speed and precision. Every strike rattled the ground, every counter left sparks flying.
Around them, the Team hesitated—caught between the battle with the Shadows and the fracture within their own ranks.
"Damien, stop!" Robin shouted, but his words fell on deaf ears.
Artemis stood frozen, eyes wide. Someone was fighting for her. Defending her. When no one else would.
The fight built to a fever pitch—until Aqualad forced his way between them, water-bearers blazing. "Enough!"
The clash broke, the Team breathing hard, the Shadows retreating into the night with Cheshire's laughter echoing in the dark.
The street was left in ruins, but the greater damage was within.
The Team turned on Artemis, faces hard, eyes accusing.
"Why didn't you tell us?" Robin's voice was sharp.
"You've been lying since day one," Wally spat.
Superboy's fists still shook with restrained fury. "You could've gotten us killed."
Artemis's voice cracked. "I'm not like them. I'm not!"
But no one believed her. No one except Damien.
He stepped forward, standing at her side. His presence was solid, unwavering.
"She had a chance to betray us tonight," Damien said coldly. "She didn't. She fought with us. She bled with us. That's all that matters."
His words hung heavy in the silence.
The Team didn't argue—but their distrust didn't fade either. One by one, they turned away, walking into the night.
Leaving Artemis standing alone.
Almost alone.
Because Damien didn't move.
He stayed, silent, a shadow at her side.
Artemis's throat tightened. She looked at him, eyes shining in the dim light. "Why… why would you defend me like that?"
Damien met her gaze, steady and certain. "Because I see you. And I trust what I see."
Her chest ached, a warmth cutting through the fear and shame. In that moment, when the whole world doubted her, Damien Cross was the only one who didn't.
And for the first time, Artemis realized—he wasn't just the perfect soldier. He was the one person she could truly rely on.
Their bond, fragile but undeniable, deepened in the shadows of betrayal
AftermathThe Cave was silent when they returned. No one spoke. No one even looked at Artemis.
Miss Martian brushed past without a word. Wally muttered something under his breath but didn't stop. Robin didn't meet her eyes. And Superboy… his glare lingered like a weight, then he stormed off down the hall.
Artemis stood in the center of the room, bow still clutched tight in her hand. Alone.
Or almost.
Damien lingered at the edge, his jacket slung over his shoulder. When Artemis finally glanced up, he tilted his head toward the zeta-tube hallway. "Come on."
She hesitated, then followed.
They ended up on the roof of the Cave, where the ocean stretched endlessly under the moonlight. Wind whipped around them, tugging at Artemis's ponytail. She wrapped her arms around herself, eyes fixed on the water.
"They hate me now," she said softly.
"They don't hate you," Damien replied, leaning on the ledge. "They just don't trust you."
She let out a bitter laugh. "That's worse."
Silence settled, broken only by the crash of waves.
Finally, Artemis spoke again, her voice low. "She's really my sister. Cheshire. And Sportsmaster…" Her throat tightened. "He's my father."
Damien didn't flinch. "I figured."
Her eyes snapped to him. "You—what? How?"
"You hesitate when the Shadows are mentioned. You move like you've trained under someone with Sportsmaster's methods. And Cheshire… she called you 'little sister.'"
Artemis shook her head, sinking onto the ledge. "Guess I'm not as good at hiding it as I thought."
"You're good," Damien said. His tone softened. "But you're carrying this alone. Secrets weigh you down. That's why your rhythm's off."
Her eyes shimmered. "And now they all think I'm the enemy."
"They think what they want," Damien said, stepping closer. "I know what I saw. You fought with us. You chose us."
For a moment, Artemis just looked at him—really looked. The moonlight caught his sharp features, the steady calm in his eyes.
"You don't even know me," she whispered.
"I know enough," he said simply. "Enough to trust you when no one else will."
The words hit her harder than any arrow. She felt her chest tighten, something warm breaking through the cold weight of shame.
"You're crazy," she muttered, but her voice shook.
"Maybe." He gave a faint, rare smile. "But I'm right about you."
Artemis exhaled, shoulders relaxing for the first time all night. She didn't say thank you—couldn't. But the look she gave him said more than words could.
The wind carried the silence between them, heavy but not empty. It was something else now. Something unspoken. Something fragile, but growing.
And as Damien turned his gaze back to the horizon, Artemis realized the truth.
In a world of shadows, betrayal, and doubt… he was the one light that refused to flicker.