"Wallace West, alias KidFlash." The voice studied the picture on the screen as it spoke. It was a picture of a tall, thin redhead with bright green eyes and freckles walking through Gotham Central High. "Let's see what it takes to get you to tell us exactly what happened in that laboratory experiment."
Wally was in chemistry class. The teacher was discussing what had been Wally's favorite subject... when he was nine. 'Balancing Chemical Equations'. Wally shifted in his seat, his eyes darting and his leg bouncing up and down as the teacher talked. Every once in a while he'd tune in for a second to hear a word or two. Whatever Mr. Baylor said, Wally could not stop thinking about food.
"...balance..." The perfect balance for the bitter taste of dark chocolate was red velvet cake's soft sweetness.
"...formula..." Aunt Iris's formula for baking cookies was so good... Soft, chewy, and sweet with gooey peanut butter and melted chocolate. Even M'gann's cookies could not compare to the ridiculously delicious, delectable desserts filled with m & m's. Two dozen of those gave Wally as much of a rush as four red bulls and a five hour energy. Ask Robin.
"...addition..." Dreaming of sugar rushes, in addition to a pizza or two and a liter of Mountain Dew, he could easily consume a few batches of cookies now.
"...compound.." An ice cream sundae had to be a compound containing just the right ingredients, two bananas split down the perfect center, curved portion up, three scoops of Ben and Jerry's Triple Fudge Brownie with Chocolate Swirls, two scoops Baskin Robbins Vanilla Toffee Soft Serve ice cream, and one scoop Blue Bell Triple Berry Crunch topped with crumbled butterscotch pieces, maple syrup, Hershey's chocolate syrup, caramel, and five maraschino cherries.
"...Wally!..." Wally was hungry. Very hungry... Wait! Wally?
"Ummm... Yes, Mr. Baylor?"
Mr. Baylor sighed in an exaggerated way to show his impatience. "Solve the equation on the board." He smirked.
Without thinking, Wally blurted out the answer. It was only after Mr. Baylor's caterpillar eyebrows rose in shock that Wally realized the question was supposed to be rather difficult. He rubbed his eyes with his hands, berating himself for his mistake. Not just in revealing his Chem-nerd side to his teacher, but in forgetting to eat breakfast. Wally wasn't quite sure how he had managed to forget that. He sighed at the puzzled faces looking at him and pulled the hood of his sweatshirt up. He did not need this. He needed food. His brain never seemed to work right when he wasn't catering (literally) to his supercharged metabolism. Luckily, his comm beeped. A mission!
He raised his hand.
"Yes, Mr. West?" Baylor's voice was barely civil. It seemed he didn't like being shown up or interrupted. Oh. Gee. What a surprise.
"Can I have a pass for the clinic?"
Jeremy, a kid he knew in his class, shot him a look.
"Are you ill, Mr. West?"
"Nope." Wally replied. "Just shiftless and irresponsible and about to throw up."
"Here's your pass, Mr. West." Did the guy have to make even signing a notecard sound painful?
"Thanks," Wally answered, taking the card, "And you may have permission to call me Wally." He left the room at what felt like a crawl but was a brisk walk for 'normal' people. They did not know what they were missing. He went straight to the vending machine and pulled out a twenty, stuffing his pockets (and his face) with candy bars, and sighing in relief.
Then he walked straight out of the school doors and not looking back until he was outside, where he felt the sudden impulse to run. He could already imagine the ground slipping away beneath his feet as he would head towards Mount Justice. He tensed his legs just as he felt a sting in his arm. He was already vibrating. He looked down to see the most peculiar looking dart sticking out of his shoulder. It looked like a mosquito. He grinned, and his words slurred as he spoke. "What 'choo doin' down there?" The long needle had a hollow tube attached at the end that was rapidly filling up with crimson liquid. "What...?" Wally started to say, then the edges of his vision tapered inwards and he blacked out.
It had been twenty-five minutes and Robin was pacing. "Even if he were in China he'd be back by now! You're sure you signaled him?"
Batman just sent him a silencing glare that helped him rationalize his thoughts. "Sorry, Br- Uh... Batman. Just worried. Wally just has a tendency to get kidnapped, or beaten, or..." He forced himself to stop. "Sorry, again."
"Apologies are a sign of weakness." Batman growled. Robin bit his tongue and lowered his head, hiding his flaming cheeks beneath his cowl. He turned away and typed on his keyboard for a moment. His eyes narrowed and his scowl tightened. Robin remembered Wally's comment about how it was a wonder Bruce didn't have a mask-shaped tan and serious frown lines. He smiled slightly, knowing his expression was hid in the shadows of his cloak. Then his mood shifted as Batman turned around, scowl deepened even further. "There seems to be a bit of an issue with Wally..." Robin's mood spiraled downwards. around the others, Batman rarely ever used Wally's real name. Something must be very, very wrong.
Wally West was cold. Not just on the outside, but inside, too. A deep penetrating cold that stung and caused him to shiver, the movement cut off by frigid metal restraints that held all his joints down. He opened his eyes and blinked in the bright light glaring down at him. He winced, a headache forming and struggled to figure out what was going on...
He was strapped to a metal table that made him think of a morgue, and his clothes were gone, leaving only a thin sheet over him, hiding him from the wintry air. His breath left his mouth in small white clouds. Thinking of his clothes, he remembered the candy bars he had stuffed in his pockets. They didn't have to take those, too. The complaining thought was barely coherent. His mind was numb, so numb and cold. He sighed, a large white puff that faded in the light above him. The glare of the light annoyed him, reminding him of sitting in a dentist's chair. He tried to shift, but couldn't move. The restraints tugged on his wrists, painfully tight. He knew that something or someone had put him there, and he would just have to wait for them to come around, explain their nefarious plans to take over the world, laugh evilly, blah blah blah. He sighed. Waiting wasn't really a KidFlash thing.
"So," Wally said, speaking to the presumably empty room. "There are six possibilities:
1. I'm insane. I've finally cracked and somewhere outside my head Artemis is laughing.
2. It's a training thing. Another one of Black Canary's ridiculous ideas.
3. It's a dream. The hamburgers I ate last night were bad or something. Or maybe it was the hotdogs. Or the chicken fingers, or, what would make the most sense, the Cafeteria food.
4. I'm unconscious. Probably tripped and knocked myself out or Artemis finally got mad enough to attack me. I'd say that's the most likely.
5. Some sick psychopath has kidnapped me. Again. The team rescues me and we live happily ever after.
And 6. I'm dead. I think I like that one the least."
Wally stopped talking for a moment to contemplate the possibility. It sucked. No more nachos or saving lives, instead being strapped to a table in a freezer for the rest of eternity.
"Yeah, I definitely prefer the psychopath."