Coona: Restart! yeah this is basically the real begining in YJ format.

Dee: we're leaving the other section up just this one is more sensical and is more accurate

Novelista: Read Review And we own Nothing!

Keystone, Missouri

June,12, team year 2

0325 hours

Joan and Jay Garrick were smart when it came to people, something the two current speedsters left much to be yearned for. Granted Wally was admittedly better than Barry, and Barry for his credit had questioned the wisdom of having a teenager with a history of both running away from home and emotional instability go back to parents who clearly didn't know the boy at all.

But really, there was a far cry from simply questioning an action to actually allowing that idiocy to occur.

And really it wasn't as if this hadn't happened before. If anything this was the norm, the highly self-destructive, cycling norm.

Honestly when Barry and Wallace get the call about one of Wally's friends running away from the parents that life'd settled the poor kid with, neither of the couple will be willing to tell the speedsters that Hartley is with them( this is routine by now and the heroes never seem to learn). It had been a terrible foolish idealistic idiotic naive idea to let Osgood and Rachel take care of Hartley; Rachel at least cared about her son's happiness if you looked deeply enough ,but her husband.

the only thing Osgood wanted was an heir, that was male, straight, and completely healthy. Hartley was deaf and gay, though whether or not Barry and Wally realized that second fact was unlikely at best.

so Joan and Jay sat outside their house in keystone at three in the morning, waiting for the brunette insomniac tech head to ram into the garage door with his motorcycle (the thing was practically indestructible with all the tinkering and armoring the kid put on it).

The heavy skree of tired tires comes down the street along with those toxic green head lights. And Hartley drives into the driveway with the all the grace of a sleep deprived rat running on caffeine ,radioactive chemicals, and fire bomb anger-angst. He gets off the bike- er tries to anyway, he sways in a drunken manner and stumbles.

runs over to his surrogate grandson catching him before he hits the ground.

"Thanks Jay."

"No problem kid" the elderly speedster says warmly and sincere as he brushes the small bits of charred lint off his clothes.

"God knows he needs the exercise" Joan says hitting her husband's stomach lightly

"I'm-"

"Retired. I know but that doesn't mean that you don't have powers anymore" she cuts in using the you-are-going-to-listen-to-me-or-there-will-be-consequences/ the mother voice

"I-"

"and those powers make the commute to the store, library, even your old buddies' houses a quick jog at most." she says with finality, "Now inside both of you!" she ushers both of them into the house.

Where the sweet smells of baking cookies and brownies were too tempting for either of them to argue.

On the couch Hartley yawns, literally about to fall asleep sitting up.

"Drink this" Joan says pushing a mug of some hot beverage into his hands. Hartley looks down, slightly stunned.

"wha-" he starts too tired to think ,from at least three too many weeks straight of too little sleep and an extremely emotionally taxing night. not to mention it was a deep green

"it's hot chocolate. with lots of milk, mint, vanilla, and chocolate chips" jay says walking in with a plate of oriental green chocolate chip cookies, then emerald velvet cupcakes, then mint chip brownies, green frosted sugar cookies. had baked the entire Rogues St Patty's day food fight armoury/Rogues Earth day Fundraiser from last year apparently. Hartley snickers, unable to not laugh at those memories, and then sips the forest green drink. Yup comforting intentions in a cup.

Far too tired to be his usual brand of guarded sarcasm, slight paranoia, and extreme cynicism, he grins self-deprecatingly

"Thank you , thanks both of you actually. Usually I just go to the homeless shelter- and then the Rogues hideout after some sleep." says steam fogging up his glasses

"Well even The Rogues agree that you going back to them,after that Breedmoore incident, is counter-productive to your mental health and well being." Jay says, there was then an awkward "silence" at the unspoken 'along with Elizabeth, Lashawna ,and Giovanni's', as the boy's other friends were currently scattered across the country or in Snart's case were in a different country entirely.

"not to mention we love having you here."

"yeah." says audible only to himself, then grabs the many empty and one half empty plate of the green chocolate chip cookies and stands up , " Um look its been a really long night, week, just a hectic life in general so I'm put this stuff in the sink, and head to bed now. Thank you so much for everything" he says quickly stuffing one of said cookies in his mouth, then quickly adding " and eat like ten of everything in when I wake up, these are delicious."

Hartley tossed four silver discs around the room as he walked into his room, years of using similarly shaped sound grenades combined with much of his former teams antics ensured accuracy. Positioned a fifth disc on the door. Closed the door.

Then punched the wall with all he had."Stupid Parents!"

Then he punched the wall again."Stupid speedsters!"

And again."Stupid Rogues!"

And again."Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!" Until the knuckles on his left hand were red and bleeding and his breathing heavy.

"the Rogues agreed that staying with them is bad for your mental health and well being," Hartley mimicked Mrs Garrick

"yeah right, and handing me over to my parents wasn't an even worse idea? God how can speedster's be so motherfuckin' dense"

Hartley paced about the room, tugging at his hair. One school year, that was the longest he'd ever stayed in Royal City since he was ten; 200 plus days with his parents, "friends" ,and their stupid high-horse, it was impressive when he thought about it.

The long haired brunette shook his head and glanced at his bed; he really was tired ,and it wasn't as if he had any of his gear beyond his bike and assorted half built sonic bazookas that would never see any action. And his rats, he always had at least one if not six with him at all times, but they were currently at one of his more private warehouses right now. And his laptop, which was out of battery life and he decided to plug in down stairs.

Temptation.

…

He launched himself onto his temporary bed laughing bitterly, honestly he had just been kicked out of his house for A) deciding to take the break year B) Being gay/socialist vigilante C) deciding to continue into either a musical or scientific career instead of the family business ( maybe basic law and business on the side it would certainly help with his night job). And here he was in Missouri , back at square one, planning to completely restart his vigilantism, it really was hopeless for him to even try to be normal at this point.

Addicted to The Life.

His life.

He'd go to his warehouse in the morning see what he could salvage of his old equipment, then talk to Gambi about a new look when the man started catering to the 'un'usual crowd after twelve.

Hartley went to sleep smiling.

He'd outgrown both the polka dots and supervillainy some time during his senior year, but not his quest for helping those in need.

This time the Piper would play with the heroes. Given they got off their stupid high horse.

CLOSE TRANSMISSION

pied means multi colored/ multi faceted