More Young Justice Trash

Late Night Drive

-Oliver drives Artemis home after a mission and reflects on the team-

-This one's Artemis-centric, but also includes some cute M'gann content, and the rest of the gang are mentioned-

"Hey kiddo, you're pretty quiet back there," Ollie said, glancing in the rearview mirror as they sped along the dark road; the wet asphalt reflecting an oily kaleidoscope of coloured light. "kid?"

Looking in the mirror he couldn't see Artemis in the back seat. Glancing behind him, however, he saw the teen's slumped figure, folded in on herself with her feet tucked up on the car seat. Her hair was still damp and disheveled, pulled into a half ponytail on top to keep it out of her face, and the edgy black eyeliner she scribbled on was smeared and dispersed across her flickering eyelids. Looking at her now, she didn't look like much more than a kid going through their punk phase. Roy had been the same when he discovered eyeliner.

Remembering that he was on the road Oliver's head snapped forwards again. He wasn't sure when his charge had fallen asleep, but she must have been pretty tuckered out, because Artemis never missed an opportunity to complain about school or work, or to show him the new songs she was listening to.

Honestly, he sometimes forgot that their kid interns worked longer hours than he did; they went from school, to recreational activities, to training, to missions usually without time for a snack or a lie down. He remembered Artemis complaining to him about a 14 hour day they'd had last week, and how she hadn't been able to sleep because she had a test the following morning, meaning she got almost 28 hours of nonstop work. He was honored that Paula trusted him with her daughter, but hearing things like that he couldn't find her trust justified: what kind of guardian lets a teenager-- a child, really-- burn both ends of the candle like that when she shouldn't even own a book of matches.

They were nearly home now, this was one of those nights when she would be staying at his house as it was too late to have her wandering through downtown Gotham. Plus, with the general state of Paula's life, it seemed to help when he could take the kid off her hands for a few hours and satiate her worries. of course Roy wasn't enthused by their new occasional roommate, but luckily they rarely crossed paths.

But as excited as he was to get home, shower, and more or less kick the bucket for the night his mind kept wandering back to the kid in the back seat.

He cast his mind back to earlier: sitting on the side lines and watching Dinah work the kids sore. Aqualad and Robin-- far apart in size and age, but approximate in skill-- were paired up, and Artemis and Kid Flash fought, one of them occasionally subbing out so the combat-unfamiliar Ms. Martian could get a few jabs in. Dinah insisted on being the only one to manage Superboy, for all she insisted he wasn't dangerous, she refused to risk one of the other kids. It seemed like fist-fight day, Dinah slid between the groups, shouting encouragements, half the lights turned off, water bottles, towels and tubes of ointment scattered in nests across the floor; one of the teen's playlists blasting at volumes that exhausted him.
He was only 33, but watching those kids shoot around in parries with tape-wrapped feet and mouth guards that limited speech to hyperactive war cries, made him feel ancient. How dare people under 23 exist? They were far too powerful. He couldn't even go to a club without feeling sick and needing to leave after an hour or two.

"Mom?" Ms. Martian called gingerly to their trainer, cradling the wraps that had come loose around xir wrist.

Without pausing, Dinah shouted over the music. "Wally, sub in for M'gann. Arrow! Help thon."

Taking a swig of Dinah's iced mocha, he crossed the floor, crackling his knuckles absently and positioning over the kid's shoulder. "Need help with those wraps?"