More Young Justice Trash

Separated AU

-AU where the team never met the league... but they did meet each other-

-CW for mentions of infected drug strains, and themes of poverty-

They'd intercepted a fentanyl-laced drug handoff before it could reach the public, but they'd taken quite the beating in the process.

"Well what do we do with this junk?" Artemis kicked one of the boxes. "We can't sell it, we can't smoke it, we can't dump it in the ocean or bury it..."

"Tomorrow we'll drop it outside a police station or something." Wally said, smothering ointment over the fat purple welt on his cheek.

"I don't trust them enough for that." Artemis replied, pacing around the dilapidated house they were squatting in. It was a temporary situation, but it was a roof over their heads.

"I'm on for dinner." Dick turned on the camping stove, rustling around the duffle bag of stolen food. He held up a can. "Veggie soup good for everyone?"

They murmured in approval. "Can I help?"M'gann asked,  struggling to maintain her humanoid shape as she swayed across the threadbare carpet to him.

Kaldur sat in the corner, quietly examining his black eye in the broken mirror. he turned to the most standoffish of the group. "Are you hurt?"

"No." Conner replied. "...I lost my shirt."

"We'll find another one." Kaldur assured, shrugging off his hoodie and draping it over the younger boy's shoulders. "Take this for now."

The evening was cold and long, drawing the humans around the camping stove for warmth. The others could tolerate the cold better, but the dark chill of winter still bit though their souls.

They were running low on food. They might to send Wally for more; he was usually too fast to be seen, and always too fast to be caught.

"I swear I can see my breath." Artemis said.

"Oh, defiantly." Dick said.

M'gann exhaled, watching the vapor fade and disperse.

"We're going to need propane for the stove if you keep burning it all night." Conner remarked.

"That's a risk I'll take." Wally replied through his shaking jaw. It was freezing, and no matter how fast he vibrated he could feel his toes going numb.

"We've been monitoring a cocaine ring for about three months now. We were able to trace a lot of Gotham's fentanyl overdoses back to them."

"Are we ready to close in?" Arrow asked.

"Not yet... you see, last night a handoff was intercepted." Batman continued. "A small shipment was stolen by an unknown group, possibly another gang."

"So, we're seeking justice for the drug smugglers?"

"More like we're trying to get a read on this new group." Wonderwoman corrected. "They have to be pretty powerful to hijack a shipment like that, but there's no sign as to who they are."

"And more importantly, what are they planning to do with it?

"We only have a couple leads:" Bats gestured to a bag on the table. "We also found a throwing knife and a couple arrows at the scene. As well as this shirt. Looks like it had superman's shield on it, but it's pretty torn up..." 

Clark lowered his eyes, an unmovable shame and disappointment solidifying itself. Then he was mad; who could do such a thing and think they could get away with wearing his symbol?