"I'm off to bed then, Master Bruce. Do try to go to bed at a reasonable hour." Alfred gave a curt nod and retreated up the stairs. For a second, Bruce merely blinked up after his old friend. Since the clock read 3 am, Bruce wasn't exactly sure what Alfred meant with 'reasonable'. Perhaps sarcasm? But the thought didn't quite stick with his manservant's personality.
Massaging his temples, Batman returned to the tasks at hand. He was simultaneously sifting through various reports from local businesses concerning a recent string of robberies, waiting for facial recognition results on a jewellery store heist and sending out business emails regarding the success of a recent product launch. He was undeniably tired but there was work to be done, so he pushed through. Bruce merely cursed the fact that caffeine had long since lost its potency for him, even though he'd always been slightly hyposensitive to the stimulant.
He was just about to start on a new design for a more compact smoke pellet when an alert sounded on his computer. The new meta-tech he'd installed a week ago communicated with his satellite to constantly keep vigil for any meta or superpowered beings with strange energy signatures that entered Gotham. However, since Flash was already standing behind him, clearly the sensors weren't quite quick enough to give a warning for the arrival of a speedster. Yet.
"Barry." Was all he said, not bothering even to turn around. A bit intrusive and on the nose, especially since Barry was suited up, but he'd spoken with the speedster on numerous occasions about just showing up. The Flash knew he didn't like surprises. Or uninvited guests in his sanctum. Using his civilian name would usually be enough to drive the point home, but Flash was in a state.
"I know, Bats, I know, but I need your help." Barry was a blur, struggling to stay still, pacing and vibrating at the same time. Observing the speedster via his reflection on the computer screens, Bruce actually felt a twinge of worry. They weren't exactly friends, per se, but Bruce did respect Barry. A hero's job wasn't an easy one and the infallibly positive way in which Flash approached most things in life was truly admirable.
"What happened?" Bruce swivelled around but kept his voice and face impassive.
Flash stood still long enough for Bruce to see absolute terror warping his face. "It's-my-nephew, he-replicated-my-accident, he's-got-powers, he-can't-stop, he's-going-too-fast, he-could-disappear-cease-to-exist!"
Bruce caught maybe every fourth word but understood the gist of things. If he remembered correctly, Barry was quite close to his fiancée's nephew, Wally, making him the likely culprit. But why would Barry come to him for help? Bruce had, of course, researched Barry's powers and abilities extensively, but how to slow down a speedster without killing him was a question that posed tricky. "What do you want me to do?" he asked, stalling.
Flash paused. "I know you, Bruce. You must have some way of stopping me or slowing me down already thought through. Can I use it to slow Wally down? I mean, if I had more time I could try and find a way to deactivate the meta-gene or something, but simply stabilising his molecules so that he doesn't disintegrate or phase out of reality on the spot took me nearly seventeen hours. I've got Jay syphoning off some of the speed at the moment, but I don't think we'll be able to keep that up for much longer. He's… Wally's… It's like nothing I've ever seen. Bruce, please, do you have any ideas? Help me."
The desperation in Barry's voice felt worse than physical punches to the gut. Most thought him, Batman, devoid of emotions or at the most, having a very limited range, but he cared perhaps too deeply in fact. Why else would he dedicate his life to trying to save the most corrupt cesspool of a city on Earth? Bruce has merely learned to compartmentalise.
But, this? It hit too close to home, his thoughts flickering towards the young boy upstairs who'd so quickly buried himself into his life and heart. What would he do if this, or something like it, had happened to Richard?
"You're right. I have thought of ways to stop you." Now how to tell a man in such a state of panic that most of those ideas and plans revolved around explosives. "But I don't think they'd work in this situation. How do you slow down? Are his powers just out of control or are they too powerful for him to control?"
"The latter. I had to train to get up to density shifting. He basically started with that. He's flying but never even learned how to freakin' sit up!" Something on Flash's person beeped loudly. He had a phone in his hand next second, dialling, and then babbling to someone at incoherent speeds. Before Bruce could blink thrice, Flash was ending the call, done with the conversation. "That was Jay. He can't hold on for much longer. The kid is generating too much speed for him to contain."
"Bring him here. I think I have an idea." What he had was only the beginnings of a thought, but Flash needed hope. It was the least he could do for anyone who put other's lives before their own.
"Thanks, Bruce. I'll be back in a sec." With that, Flash disappeared.
Granting himself one luxuriously deep breath to gather his thoughts and emotions, he called the Watchtower.
"Greetings, Batman. What may I do for you?" J'onn's calm voice sounded surreal after the tense, terse conversation previously.
"J'onn. I need your help. Could you get someone to cover your shift and meet me at the coordinates I've just sent up?"
"Certainly. Black Canary starts her shift in 10 minutes. I am sure she would not mind arriving a bit earlier."
Bruce cut the line. Rude, perhaps, but effective. He was already working on a plan B and had no time to waste on greetings.
Flash arrived in the next minute, carrying an unconscious boy in his arms. The boy had bright red hair, which made his already light skin look deathly in comparison. Little arches of lightning danced around the pair, and Flash looked as if he was in pain. "I tried to get rid of some of the speed, but I've circled twice now, and there's no end to this."
When Flash said 'circle', Bruce presumed the globe. "Is he safe to touch?" He asked, eyeing the lightning warily.
"Yes, it should be okay, just give me a second." Flash breathed and closed his eyes, glowed briefly, vibrated fiercely, and the light show dampened down a bit. Quickly, or relative to human speeds, Bruce checked the boy's vitals, comparing it to the data he had previously collected on the Flash. He took some blood, as well, but didn't get the chance to start analysing it before J'onn arrived, floating down from the ceiling.
"Apologies, but I could feel the distress. Is it the child that needs my help?"
Barry frowned at J'onn's presence. Why was their resident psychic Martian here?
"Yes, thank you, J'onn. Flash's nephew is new to his powers and has yet to learn control. In the meantime, would it be possible to put a mental block in place to keep him from going as fast as he potentially can? We fear he might cease to exist if he does not slow down."
Barry looked horrified. "You… We can't do that!" He protested. "Especially not without consent! I know he's just gotten his powers, but you don't understand. If I was able to feel the speed but not use it, it would drive me insane!"
"Insanity is better than death, is it not?" Bruce snapped. "This is what we have right now. Unless you want to fix a power dampening collar on him?"
J'onn ignored the two adult superheroes in favour of staring at the child. His eyes glowed bright red. "What you are suggesting, Batman, is possible. I can limit the boy's access to his power and convince him that he cannot physically go faster than a certain speed." J'onn looked up at Barry, who immediately wanted to protest. "I can feel your urgency, and I can feel the child slipping. The block within his mind would not be permanent. In fact, he will likely break through it himself if the need for more power becomes dire. It won't hurt, I swear."
"Is this really the only way?" Barry pleaded, clutching the boy tighter to his chest. "I mean, I hate that Wally went behind my back and that he has to go through this. But he's so bright, and smart, and kind. He's going to help so many people – I know it."
"Barry, my only other idea is embedding a physical power-dampener within him. It would take me a few days to perfect, but it would ultimately block all of his power. This way, he would still be faster than normal. Granted, not as fast as he could be, nor as fast as you even, but, for now, that's the best we can do." Bruce tried to keep his voice even and reasonable, but it was harder than usual. He was tired and truly empathised with Flash's situation. Unfortunately, life rarely gave easy ways out. Especially not in the superhero community.
"No! No power-dampeners," Flash stated, a bitter taste in his mouth at the thought. "We'll try this, then, but we keep looking, okay? And if he needs it or gets old enough, we remove the block, right?"
"Of course, Flash." J'onn acquiesced gently and walked closer to the child. He could feel the anguish radiating from Flash, but the pain coming from the child was greater. His small body was not used to so much power and energy, and every part of him screamed. Trapped in his own mind by the obliterating pain… Even if Flash had not agreed, J'onn might have gone ahead just to help the child. He hated seeing the boy suffer any longer. He reached out and placed his hand on Wally's ruffled red curls, before entering the boy's mindscape and sealing off most of the power.
The mind was a powerful thing and luckily, young minds were still so malleable. Convincing young Wally that he was slow, or at least much slower than he actually was, took a few tries but once it stuck, his mind did the rest of the work for them, slowing Wally's molecules down to a relative crawl.
Flash sighed in relief as he felt Wally slow, his own body protesting at the strain it had taken to try and keep up with Wally's rate of vibration. "I'm so sorry, Wally," he whispered, tears in his eyes. "Thank you, J'onn. Thanks, Bruce. I'll forever be grateful to you guys."
"Take him home, Barry. I'll see you at the next meeting." Bruce nodded at the gust of air where Flash had stood. He turned to J'onn, whose face was blank as usual. "Thank you for coming on such short notice, J'onn."
"You are most welcome, Batman. I am always happy and willing to help my teammates."
There was something else that he wanted to ask, something that he desperately wanted to know, even despite his own adamant assistance on privacy. He simply stared at J'onn, unable to formulate the words properly, never mind say them aloud.
"I will be leaving then, Batman." J'onn floated upwards. Just before he could phase through the roof of the cave, he looked down at the quietly brooding Batman. "He is as fine as one his age can be given the trauma. But he is happy here and could be even happier if you trusted him with your other occupation. He has a righteous heart." A pause. "Good night."
For a long while afterwards, right into the later hours of the morning, Bruce sat staring. When the sun finally started shoving its way over the horizon, dusting the gloomy Gotham with rays of pale, yellow light, he replayed the clip once more. Sent to him via the principal of Richard's new school, it featured Richard taunting three much older and larger boys in order to get them away from another boy they had been tormenting moments before. Once he had their attention, Richard backflipped out of reach, threw two books that bounced of two of the bullies' foreheads, and jumped up to the windowsill of the nearby building and scampering out of reach.
Barry's words echoed through Bruce's mind. "He's going to help so many people – I know it." But eight years old was perhaps too young, right?