More Young Justice Trash

Unheard Sound

-It's a bit angsty. but enjoy it (CW for doubt of a character's sanity)-

-EDIT (23,06,23): I wanna use my platform for a minute to clarify that some of the symptoms in this are famously associated with Schizophrenia and other Psychotic disorders. The violence in this is supposed to be a result of stress and personality, I cannot state enough that ASSUMEING PEOPLE WITH PSYCHOTIC DISORDERS ARE DANGEROUS PUTS THOSE PEOPLE IN DANGER.
-This is based on medical trauma, neglect, and my own semi-psychotic tendencies, hearing things =/= acting out violently-

"Listen." Conner said suddenly, voice echoing off the gritty tiling of the changeroom. 

"You hear something?" Artemis asked, stepping into the shower and watching as a film of sweat, dirt, and stale blood rinsed down the ancient drain. The mission had been the latest in a series of grueling nights of work, which strained their bodies as much as it did their stress-addled minds.

"It's buzzing..." Conner said, glancing around the room.

A couple of his friends paused, listening. Wally shrugged. "You mean the lights?" He referred to the hissing fluorescent tubes which flickered overhead like photo-interpretive sandpaper.

"No, different." Conner replied. "This is new..."

Wally hummed, rubbing hand soap into his hair. "Your ears are probably still ringing from that grenade." He extended a hand and pat his adopted-godson's head affectionately.  Conner frowned, oblivious to the suds sitting in his hair, gears in his head grinding so loud M'gann would wince.

"Come on, big guy," Dick shook his bottle of vanilla rose (sulphate-free) shampoo. "I wanna take a stab at that mane of yours."

Unfortunately, despite Dick's best attempts, the clone didn't take well to being bathed, and it was a struggle explaining to him why he needed to wash the dried guts from his face. 

Once the team was decent and dried and dripping in muscle ointments, they tramped miserably to the atrium so Batman could give a preemptive reaction to everything they'd done wrong. Several of them were in their spare pyjamas, and were clutching their gym bags, more than ready to go home.

"You seem to have cut down frivolous property damage by half..." Batman began. "but you still burnt a school bus to it's bare skeleton-- I don't care that you put it out. It was unacceptable and dangerous.

"Listen!" Conner interrupted, Irises wavering with animalistic alertness. 

"Superboy, please don't interrupt Batman." Kaldur reminded quickly.

"It's loud!" He looked over his shoulder so far he lost balance, reeling in circles.  

"Superboy!" The team leader repeated, taking his arm. "Can we practice waiting turns to speak?"

"Aqualad, may we continue?" Batman asked icily. "Or do you need a moment to get ahold of your team?"

"No, sir." The boy shook his head bashfully, holding Conner's wrist to prevent him wandering off. It wasn't that he didn't want to give the ingenue attention, but it really wasn't the right time; everyone was tired, it was late, and another mission awaited them in under twenty hours.

Dick was not prepared for another mission that night, still fatigued and sore from his modest amount of sleep the previous night. Luckily for him, Artemis, and every other student of Gotham Academy, Poison Ivy had decided to use their breezeway garden as weaponry against Dick's guardian. So with the rest of the day off school, he'd headed to the mountain, seeking a moment of solitude in which to nap without Alfred scolding him for picking at his bandages.