Disclaimer: G.I. Joe and all associated characters and concepts are property of Hasbro Inc. and IDW comics. I'm just one of a large family of fans who likes telling family stories – no profit needed, no profit earned.

Continuity: IDW G.I. Joe reboot, AKA the Dixonverse; Max Brooks' Hearts and Minds

Author's Note: Flash was one of my favorite characters from Marvel's time with G.I. Joe... but when I tried to do this piece, I have to say honestly that he was one of the hardest characters to write. What stood out with Max Brooks and his vignettes was that there was always SOMETHING that made that particular Joe stand out... a disability, a personal tragedy, a unique perspective on life. But Flash, he's never been a character to stand out. He's a "regular joe" Joe. I'm not sure I like the way this turned out, because I tried to work with that low-profile ordinariness. If this comes off as bland to you... please give ideas on what could have made it pop. I'm posting, but I'm not a real fan of this piece.

When my kid brother joined the Marines, he got a party. Balloons. Cake. The whole family. The whole works. Big shebang. My old man, a Jarhead from way-back-when, was so proud he cried. He didn't say it, but I know he was thinking it... one of his boys had what it takes. The few. The proud. Chip off the old block. Just like dad.

Not me.

I'm Army all the way. Electronics school, Chem school, Covert Electronics. Military got me through college, then grad school. Didn't have the same punch to Dad. Oh, he was proud of me and all... his son, the engineer. But it wasn't a REAL man's job. A job where you get your hands dirty. A job where you break a sweat. Even in the Army.

Thanks, Dad.

Maybe it was knowing I wasn't living up to expectations that gave me permission to be me, though. Guess I figured, why even try? Not gonna be Jimmy. Not gonna be Dad. Gonna be me. Tony. That meant 40% goof, 50% geek, 10% You-Get-In-My-Way-You're-Gonna-Regret-It. The goof part got me my nickname... not the superhero, not being light on my feet, not my bright ideas, not my laser rifle. Nope. Without getting into detail, it had more to do with matches and biologically produced methane than with battle tactics. What can I say - it's a talent.

The geek part got me my specialization. I was building my own computers when I was in high school. I know every operating system inside out and sideways. I can hack into darn near anything, carve a hole in a firewall that won't trip the alarms, rebuild a database from the inside, and leave it looking like nobody's been there - door locked up behind me.

And don't get me started on my laser rifle.

Some guys won't trade their pop guns for my lean, mean sweetheart - but they don't know her like I do. I mean, what geek in his right mind is going to pass up a laser rifle for an Uzi or a tank? I can burn the coating off a cable without touching the wires - or toast a marshmallow on a guy's stick a quarter of a mile away. Mark a point for the big guns or burn a lock off for a forward team. You want someone taking out airborn bad guys with minimal manpower? Call me in. I can blind a pilot with a low-power blast or fry a Trouble Bubble's controls without the pilot catching on until he's dropping out of the sky. Just like Space Invaders. The walking video game... that's me.

And that last ten percent is what got me into the Joes. Yeah, I'm a goofball. Yeah, I'm a geek. But you take on my team, you take on me. Nobody touches my buddies. Nobody. And if you think you can, you're gonna have a world o' hurt coming down on you. I love my laser rifle, but I can take you down with seven different light arms and break your neck three different ways with my bare hands. You hurt my friends, I'm gonna hurt you. Period.

My one regret? Dad didn't live long enough to see it. Keeled over dead of a heart attack two weeks before my transfer was official.

Not that he'd have known about it, since all us Joes are "dead to the world." But... still, I can't help but think about it. What he'd have thought, when the officers showed up at the door. When he heard the news. His boy, his Army boy serving in Afghanistan, taken out by an IED, trying to warn his convoy off the road. He'd never know I made it into the most elite of elite units... but he'd think I died a hero.

I wonder if he'd have been proud.

I like to think he would.

I am Flash.

I am G.I. Joe.