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Before the rise in meta-humans happened, 24.9 million people were estimated to have been human trafficked. Only 25% of that margin were under the age of 18 at the time. Now, well those numbers were different. Trafficking industries changed completely with the rise of the meta gene. Trafficking took place overseas and even intergalactically. Children, adults, men, and women. Meta human trafficking spared no one.
An estimated over 12 million adolescents between the ages of 11 and 19 were victims of meta-human trafficking across the globe.
Virgil, Ed, Asami, and Tye would still meet up occasionally. Black Canary once said that they all seemed to have a trauma bond with one another. Despite not having met before the incident they were all suspiciously close. Constantly seeking out physical contact from one another, relying only on each other in times of distress, seeking each other when lonely. As far as therapizing went, Black Canary was certain she had them all marked. Still, none of them ever really admitted that much to themselves, that they had a so-called “trauma bond”.
…
“Some of those kids are seriously struggling.” Ed sighed. “I can’t even imagine what some of them went through.”
He was very focused on the youth center these days. He felt a certain duty to the kids there, it was something they could all understand. For Ed though, it hit even harder, he’d really bonded with a few of them.
“Some of their stories must be pretty similar to ours.” Virgil said.
It wasn’t meant to be a thing. Just a comment.
“What do you mean?” Tye hesitated.
They mostly didn’t like to discuss the shit that got them all where they were now. They’d done all the therapy so they could be happy in a moment like this, not dwell in the past. But they could talk about it now, and the quizzical looks from his friends told Virgil they did not understand what he was talking about.
So it was gonna be a thing.
“I mean, you guys were runaways, got taken on your way out, right off the streets. I may not have been a runaway but plenty of those kids must have been taken off the streets, runaway or not.” He looked down. “I don’t know, just ignore me.” He laughed, but it didn’t feel funny. “I mean, we got lucky; rescued before the Reach had a chance to do more than activate our powers and put us through minor hell to get us there. What those kids went through, that was so much worse.”
“No man.” Tye said. “Just cause they didn’t get a chance to traffick us doesn’t mean that wasn’t the intention. We may not have the same stories as those kids, but we are still survivors. BC would kick your ass for saying otherwise.”
They all laughed at that. Therapy with Black Canary, group therapy specifically, had been something they had learned a lot from.
And maybe she was right. Maybe they did have a trauma bond. A bond coming from the trauma of surviving human trafficking. Even if some of them weren’t ready to admit it just yet.
Around 71% of human trafficking victims are female, 29% of them male. The statistics were probably pretty similar when it came to meta human trafficking. Although it was almost impossible for them to figure out given the global and intergalactic crisis it had created.
Leslie Willis grew up being warned about human trafficking. Anyone growing up on the streets knew to be careful. Especially the girls.
She was thirteen when she first heard someone say that traffickers were less likely to go after people with dyed hair. Bright colors and such, they were less considered valuable or some shit like that. She was never much attached to her hair in the first place, keeping it short made her life easier and if dying it kept her safe, she would do it in a heartbeat.
She knew some of the convenience stores she frequented had hair dye in the beauty sections. It wasn’t a section she typically frequented but she’d seen it enough times to know what was there.
That week on her usual run into the convenience store, to pickpocket a few days of food and any other needs, she’d managed to slip a bottle of blue hair dye into the bag. It was the only color they had and she never had hated blue.
She did kinda hate herself later though, when that blue stayed permanent in her meta-human form.
The stupid dye hadn’t kept her safe from trafficking. She hated thinking that it was just because she wasn’t really human anymore.
Delphis didn’t like to talk about her life before Atlantis. Kaldur had tried a couple of times, Wynde too, but Delphis always refused. She just wanted to leave that all behind.
Still, they did their best to help her recover from her trauma without knowing any of the specifics. An Atlantean therapist used the same treatment plans as the counselors at the meta-human youth center implemented. And it worked, for the post part.
Sure her trauma was trafficking based, but it wasn’t just meta-human trafficking that she’d fallen victim to. She’d been trafficking long before she knew what a meta gene even was. But she was happy to let that version of herself die on the surface world. She was Atlantean now. Her old name was long and forgotten, even to herself.
She was Delphis now. A light in even the darkest ocean.
Victims of trafficking spend an average of 20 months in forced labor, although this varies by circumstance.
Wendy doesn’t think she’ll ever forget November 1.
The day she was finally rescued.
She doesn’t entirely remember everything, or anything really, from her time in captivity, but she knows she went missing sometime around May. How it happened is all a blur to her, but apparently that was common among the others who were rescued with her. The flashes of memory she has from her mete gene activation are awful and Dinah and M’gann told her it makes sense that she doesn’t remember it well since the brain will forget traumatic events in an attempt to protect itself.
Based on the math she has, she was trafficked for about six months. At the time, though, it felt much longer. Even if she can only remember bits and pieces.
She knows she’s one of the lucky ones. Some of the others were there for a year or even longer than that. Some of them didn’t make it out alive.
So, she would always remember November 1. She would always be thankful for her own safety and would honor those who died while she survived. Most importantly, she would remember why she was fighting alongside the Outsiders to make the world a better place.