Synopsis: When a freak fire destroys Central City orphanage, Flash enlists the League to raise money at a charity carnival. But Batman sees the carnival as less than fun, and the fire as more than coincidence. It's up to him and the Flash to solve the mystery before nightfall-and understand the meaning of childhood in the process.
Acknowledgements: All rights belong to the DC universe. I do not own anything. They have been kind enough to lend me their beloved characters into this story and into my life.
In the dry summer field at nightfall,
fireflies rise like sparks.
Imagine the presence of ghosts
flickering, the ghosts of young friends,
your father nearest in the distance.
This time they carry no sorrow,
no remorse, their presence is so light.
Childhood comes to you
-from Fireflies by Marilyn Kallet
PROLOGUE
Gotham City. Under the wing of night, the city lay silent as a corpse. The summer air surveyed the lifeless streets with nothing more than a passing glance. On any given night furtive-glancing criminals stalked the mud-stained asphalt well into the dark night.
But tonight was not like any other. Tonight not even the delinquent loitered. The week-long heat wave melted any heists or schemes involving more than staying inside air-conditioned comfort. The moon shone on the stillness, Selene's opaque blanket of sleep unbroken. That is, almost unbroken.
A gargoyle of Gotham church faced the moonlight. Now illuminated, the stony sentinel became a masked outline. His cape wrapped his shoulders in mystery as he watched the final lights below. Windows glowing with electricity doused their faint flickering, one by one. Like fireflies.
He closed his stormy eyes. Memories of summers long ago, summers unspoiled by time and strife. When he and his parents would roam their manor grounds with glass jars, watching the phosphorescence dart in and out, out and in of the darkness that held no terror. Alfred watched from the garden, pruning the blooming roses. Mother's favorites. He could almost see Father's face, could picture his own innocent brow. He was smiling.
Booooom! A mountainous blast sounded somewhere in the west, shockwaves reverberating under his feet. Explosions lit the sky, fizzling into golden streaks. The memory shattered faster than sound, though not faster than he reacted. Running towards the western shadow he jumped into the blackness below. Then nothing. The limp breeze rippled the gargoyle. A flit! sounded from belowand away he swung on the grappling line, away from the past and into reality.
The smoking remains of the building sweated blood red debris. Water from hoses hissed into the flames. Police sirens flashed into the lined face of Commissioner Gordon, listening intently to the officer's report.
"… Warehouse, three stories high. Nothin' but ash and broken glass. Neighbors say it's abandoned since before the 90's. Cable guy says all the electricity for three neighborhoods crosses underfoot. A livewire triggered by the heat, apparently."
The commissioner motioned for the lieutenant to go. He would linger until the firemen had quelled the hissing embers.
"Rotten night for an electrical fire," he muttered to himself. "As if the city isn't hot enough."
"That's no electrical fire." A gravelly voice from an alley. "And it's no coincidence."
You'd think after years you'd get used to the masked shadow simply appearing out of thin air. But no. "Is anything to you mere coincidence?"
The dark knight didn't answer right away. Instead he reached inside his utility belt for-a phone. And the newest, most expensive model. He nodded for the old man to take a look at the glowing screen.
"The Daily Planet? This article hasn't even been run yet. It has tomorrow's date."
"Let's just say I know a guy."
Hmm. Figures. "What's the TLDR version?"
"Metropolis police department recently reported two robberies in the past twenty-four hours. One company specializing in theater special effects. The other in chemicals. Not impressive by themselves, but more than enough to cook up the pyrotechnic display I saw tonight. What would you call that?"
"More than coincidence."
"He wanted it to look like faulty wiring and bad luck. Tonight was a practice round."
"An old friend of ours, maybe."
"Or something new."
The commissioner wiped beading sweat from his care-worn brow. As if the city streets needed another explosive-bent maniac. Arkham was full of them already. Both men watched in silence as the flames retreated into blackened ash.
"Funny. Thought I knew every inch of this city," the commissioner admitted. "But I've never noticed this building before."
The gravelly voice paused thoughtful before responding. "When I was a kid, this was an orphanage."
The commissioner turned, but he was too late. Batman, without a trace, had already embraced the waiting darkness.
TWO WEEKS LATER
Another sunny day. A sweet wind blew the ginger locks, tickling his freckled nose. A good day to celebrate being young. The sun was shining, work was over, and the mall had a sale on running shoes. Wally drank it all in. One of those days you want to slow it down. You never know when these moments will speed on by. Although, what the Flash considered slowing it down was still jogging for the rest of us.
"Hi Joe, how's school going? Say hi to your sister for me. Hi Steve, Martin. Little Billy, keep it real."
Wally West waved to his fellow ambling neighbors. They all waved back, even if they didn't recognize him. (After all, they knew the ginger kid by a different name.) It may not be as big as Metropolis or dramatic as Gotham. But out of all the places in the world Flash had been-and he'd zoomed by them all twice-Central City was by far the friendliest.
A thunk as the news van door slammed. Wally's heart always beat faster than the regular man's, but his pulse still quickened. Behind the door was a gorgeous Asian woman talking into a camera with a serious expression. Linda Park. Channel Four's star reporter. The redheaded hero ducked behind a tree, gathering his thoughts. What was the Keystone City reporter doing here? The memories flashed like lightning: The night of the museum. Those frozen minutes in Mirror Master's glass labyrinth. He shuddered. That absolute doubt and fear he so wanted to forget.
Except…Something about her lovely almond eyes wouldn't let him forget. Not entirely. How holding her tight, they faced uncertainty and escaped. Together. Whatever that meant.
Maybe this was a chance to find out.
He stood, resolute, and immediately tripped. "Man," he huffed. "For someone who can run hours on end and come out of the freaking speed force alive, why does the thought of talking with a pretty girl make me weak at the knees?"
Sigh. A little reinforcements couldn't hurt at a time like this.
The blonde ran until there was nowhere left to go, cornered against the fallen trees too high to climb. The howling man circled her petite form. A situation when reinforcements sure would be nice.
Saliva dripped from his fangs, half wolf, half human, breathing in her intoxicating sweet scent. After retrieving the theft in her gloved hand, maybe master Cadmus would let him have that juicy neck.
"Give me the vial," the beast gargled.
The howler expected the little blonde to whimper, beg, plead. Instead she did the last thing his hound-spliced mind expected.
She winked. "You didn't say please."
Her gloved fist threw the coveted glass into the trees. A voice and twang sounded from behind. But the howler's reflexes were too good. He caught the green-tinted projectile between mutated clawed arms.
"Stupid girl."
The arrow shaft clicked twice. The stupid girl smiled sweetly before delivering a mighty kick to the ugly head, shoving the stunned beast into the wooded corner. Already the arrow was releasing what the blonde recognized as sleeping gas. The monstrous hound blinked once, twice. And slumped to the ground.
"Just like I said, Ollie. Piece of cake."
A blonde, bearded man emerged from the foliage above. "Miss me?"
Black Canary rolled her eyes. "Let's get this back to the Watchtower so Mr. Terrific can figure out what's going on."
Green Arrow retrieved the shaft from the beast's claws. "Mutant experiments. Almost feel sorry for them."
"Emphasis on almost."
The groggy beast rolled over, raking the jagged claws towards the bearded mask.
"Look out-"
Caught off guard, there was no more time to draw an arrow-wham. Slump. Black Canary's side kick connected with the slobbering jaw. No doubt about his unconscious state now.
"Thanks, I owe you one."
"Buy me dinner and I'll call it even." Black Canary winked, tossing her blonde locks.
"Ta-da!" preceded Booster Gold levitating out of the verdant leaves, Skeets close in tow proffering the troublesome vial. "Sorry guys, got a little lost back there. What'd I miss?"
Linda continued the news report: "The police conclude no one was inside the theater when it exploded, but still the mystery remains. Authorities are linking the theater break-in to a similar act in my own Keystone City."
Wally wasn't exactly listening to anything but his beating heart. All he could think was Wow. She's even gorgeous when she's frowning.
"…If any of you have information, please call in. This is Linda Park, Channel Four news."
Now or never. The camerawoman was taking a lunch break under a tree. Linda didn't notice a red streak as she loaded her microphone into the van.
"Hi Linda."
She turned to the voice beside her. A guy about her age with red hair and freckles just stood there, seemingly out of nowhere.
The stranger, wearing a Batman T-shirt, sweatpants, and red running sneakers didn't look all that remarkable. But still. Something about this guy seemed familiar. And what a nice smile.
"Hi," she replied. "Have we met?"
"As a matter of fact, you interviewed me at the Flash museum opening night."
"That must be it."
"My uh, good looks musta caught your eye in the crowd." The redhead mentally face-palmed himself. So cheesy.
"Guess so."
Awkward pause. Just keep it cool. Say something intelligent.
"I'm West. I mean Wally. The first name is my last name. Or-I mean-if you like West better-" He shrugged, proffering a handshake, half ready to flee as fast as he could, speed force or no. "Just Wally." The boy couldn't help blushing, thinking I bet Green Arrow would have made some great moves about now.
The girl smiled, encouraging. "Maybe on tv I'm a brave reporter, but right now I'm just Linda. Nice to meet you. Officially, that is. Hey!" Linda grabbed Wally's surprisingly strong wrist. Was she holding his hand already?! thought Wally. What did I do for her to realize she can't live without me?
"That is a legit watch."
"Oh."
The scarlet, sleek steel wristband circled a white face, lightning bolts pointing the time.
"Where'd you get it? Metropolis mall?"
"Well, it's sort of a prototype. One-of-a-kind."
"Oh."
Wally shrugged. "I know a guy."
"That is so cool. I mean-yeah." Linda let go, blushing, just realizing their hands were touching. "My uh, friend loves the Flash."
She tried to appear nonchalant. He grinned, trying not to blush.
"Pretty Flash-y, huh?"
"Bet time just flashes by so fast."
No way. This girl was smart and punny.
"Haha! What do you call a superhero bug in your eye?"
"What?"
"An eye-Flash."
The two stared at each other. Then burst out laughing.
Meanwhile, Marla the camerawoman shook her head in shame, continuing to watch the live-action soap opera chewing a sandwich. Dinner and a show.
"So, when exactly did you become part of the Flash mob?"
"The what?"
"You know, become a Flash fan. It's pretty obvious, even for me. And that's saying something."
Linda let out an exasperated sigh. "That's the problem."
"So you're a Scarlet Speedster fan. A lotta people are."
"Exactly."
"I don't follow."
"I'm supposed to be a cynical journalist for crying out loud. I'm not supposed to buy into the 'heroic public icon' gimmick. Granted it works for Lois and Lane and Superman-but Flash is different! He's so arrogant, vain, conceited- "
"Good-looking?"
Linda looked pained. "Very."
It took everything in Wally not to smile. "So?"
"That night. At the museum. You wouldn't have been there, the police evacuated the place. One of the rogues trapped Flash and I in some sort of glass prison. Didn't think we'd make it out. Kept thinking Death by mirrors?! How lame does that sound on a gravestone."
Funny. Wally remembered thinking something very similar. "Were you afraid?"
Linda's slim fingers brushed a stray lock out of her almond eyes so deep in thought. "Out of my mind. Never felt so vulnerable or small. Like I'd let Flash down somehow." She snapped back into reality. "How embarrassing, right?"
Wally didn't look embarrassed or ashamed. Cocking his head to a pensive angle, talking out loud, but more to himself. "Maybe he felt the same way. Only was too afraid to let you down."
"You really think so?"
"Er, the dude's only human. I mean, assuming he's not from Krypton-which I hear is an obscure alien planet or something."
Linda exhaled shaking her head, a soft chuckle escaping. "Wow. I've never told anyone about what happened. And here I am, baring my soul after meeting you officially 3.5 minutes ago. Like a total creeper."
To this Wally tried his best not to burst out laughing. He'd met the Creeper-unfortunately-and this pretty lady was nowhere close.
"No worries. I've known half my Facebook friends for less time. You can say anything and I promise-on my honor as a Ginger-to withhold judgment of creeper-ism."
Linda couldn't help but laugh at the mocking boy scout salute. Laughter subsiding, Linda's almond eyes met his green. This guy seemed different from the usual tall, dark and handsome tool. He seemed genuinely nice.
"For what it's worth Wally West, you're a really good listener."
A slight blush lit the boy's cheeks. "Maybe we can talk again?"
"I'd like that."
Still. Something was nagging at the back of Linda's head. That voice…Had she interviewed him in the crowd that night? No way she'd forget that red hair…
"Something about you seems less like a stranger, and more like…" What was it? She inched closer to his face, now turning serious. "Like…"
Whatever Linda was going to say was cut off by a look of horror.
"Gee, is my breath that bad?"Wally wondered out loud. The reporter pointed wordlessly down the street into the distance. Trails of smoke twisted like an ominous cackle. Flames licking out the building almost froze her blood.
"Oh my gosh. Call 911! Uh, Wally?"
The mysterious ginger kid was nowhere in sight. Linda was alone. That is, except for a scarlet watch, left atop the van bumper. The lightning time ticking, speeding away.
Mrs. Mercer was guiding the children out the front door by the time the Flash arrived at the Central City orphanage.
"Mrs. Mercer, is this everyone?"
"Yes," she coughed.
"Come on kids, we're gonna take a field trip."
In the time it took the neighbors to come out their front door and gawk, Flash had zoomed every child across the street away from the smoke, gathering them at the public park. "I'll be back, just hang tight."
Flash rushed to the site, running faster and faster around the flames. Within seconds the terrifying flames paused, then hushed into the vacuum of stillness. Sounds of a fire truck sounded in the distance.
The middle-aged caretaker sniffled. "I was only making French fries for lunch. The grease spilled, caught fire, and th-then it was everywhere."
"It was an accident, Mrs. Mercer. Shhh."
"What about th-the children? They deserve m-more than this," gesturing to the ashes of what remained.
A little voice at Flash's elbow sniffled.
"Mr. Flash?" Ashes smudged Lucy's face. "Is it gonna be okay?"
Glancing at the smoldering ashes across the street, Wally West didn't know what to say. But ten sets of wondering eyes weren't looking at him.
It was then the idea came.