As requested, the new side story line in a seperate story. I hope people will enjoy these bits, and they actually tie into the main story as well, so it's not useless plot-wise.

UnStoppable Flash Side Stories

Disclaimer: Kim Possible trademark and all characters belong to Disney.

DC Comics and all characters belong to Warner Bros.

Jonathan

-Pre-Series-

December 25th, 1944

Near the town of Champs, Ardennes, Belgium

The young man was shaking uncontrollably. For the last few hours, all he could do was shaking in this God forsaken foxhole. His dark brown hair had been matted with dirt and some blood, not having had any chance to clean up in so many days.

It had been more than six hours since sunset, yet the young man was unable to sleep. The entirety of his unit must have been feeling the same way. He could hear whispers ranging from prayers to cursing from all around.

He heard some footsteps crushing the snow. In quiet tones, he heard the conversation of a petty officer with that of another. He knew the first speaker, he was the corporal commanding his team.

"Sir, you have to tell Lieutenant. Today's attacks depleted almost all the ammo we reserved, and soldiers here have run out of any sort of medical supplies. We can't hold this position any longer."

The young man in the foxhole heard a deep sigh. The second man spoke, this was a new voice. "What do you expect Corporal, pray tell. Germans encircled us and all the supplies we can get are those air drops. They have problems in Command without us adding to it."

"We at least need to rotate with the reserves in the town! These men cannot hold out any longer." The young man knew that Corporal Stent was a good man, looking out for the soldiers around himself.

The second voice, added with conviction and some desperation. "Corporal, there are no reserves. We are now stranded souls on an island, surrounded by a sea of Krauts, both armored and infantry. Until General Patton's forces punch through the blockade, we have no base area."

The young man heard the frustrated sigh of his corporal. The second voice spoke again. "Go get some sleep. Germans will most probably renew the offensive early in the morning."

The corporal walked away slowly, but the man speaking to him did not. The tarp covering the young man's foxhole was pulled back and a man slid inside, pulling the tarp back up after he had done so.

It was very dark, only light coming from the edges of the foxhole, the pale moonlight shining through. The young man heard the sound of a match being lit, then saw the lighting of a battered cigarette.

The light illuminated the smoking man. He was a middle aged fellow, with gray strands showing amongst his blonde messy hair. He also had a magnificent moustache that linked up with his sideburns, forming a single line from ear to ear. The older man saw the young man looking at him and smiled.

"You heard the brunt of that I assume?"

The young man nodded softly. He did not need to hear all that to know how bad it was already.

The older man extended another battered cigarette to him. Young man took it tentatively. Another match lit up and gave fire to the cancerous stick. "Merry Christmas." The aging blonde offered with a knowing tone.

"You too sir. Sergeant, sir." The young man had made out the rank from the man's uniform.

"Ease up kid. We are just two lost souls in a foxhole." He took a long drag from his cigarette. "What's your name Private?"

The young man answered after a taking a drag himself. "Hiram, sir. Hiram Kent."

"Jonathan Stoppable." The older man chuckled after taking another long drag out of the cigarette he was holding. "Yes, I know how that last name sounds."

After a minute of silence, Hiram asked with a quiet voice. "Sir... Do you think we have a chance to survive?"

Jonathan's eyes bore into Hiram's, showing the conviction he had in his deep brown eyes. "If there is one thing I know, that there's always a chance."

"But sir, we have been holding out for almost nine days. They say that if Bastogne falls, we could lose the war."

Jonathan sighed after another long drag that almost depleted his cigarette. "Tell me, where are you from?"

Hiram answered, but couldn't understand why the older man was asking. "Smallville, sir. It's a small town in Kansas."

"Farmer, eh? What do you grow out there?" Jonathan's tone was all too calm, making small talk in a cold and dark foxhole like it could have been a nice pub.

"Mostly corn, sir."

"Must be hard work. Honest work."

"It is, but that is how we like it there. Sir." Hiram's tone was prideful, he loved his hometown.

Jonathan finished smoking and looked into Hiram's eyes again. "So tell me, why would a Kansas farm boy rush to service, in a bloody war so far from home? You are not like those other city kids who simply had no purpose in life."

Hiram's head fell forward while he thought of his home. His home he would probably never see again.

"I... I read about the war back home, all the time we could spare for reading. And after what happened at Pearl Harbor, I felt that... I felt that I needed to stand up for my country. I need to do this, so people back home in Smallville can keep farming and live their lives as before, as well as the people in these countries." Hiram was surprised that he could find the words.

Jonathan smiled, got up and pulled the tarp back as he got out of the foxhole. "That is why we will hold Bastogne and that is why we will win this war Kent. Hold onto that soul of yours. War has a bad habit of taking it away."

Hiram ran under the cover of thin Belgian forest as fast as he could. It was hell on Earth, and it was right around him. Germans had initiated another offensive at dawn, and this was the big one. All around him, Hiram saw his fellow soldiers fall, never to stand back up. Retreating further into the besieged area was an inevitable fact. They were ordered to fall back as far as the town of Hemroulle, just outside Bastogne, also under attack by Germans. They had nowhere to go.

Germans were winning. The 502nd Infantry was stretched thin, and was soon to be obliterated.

He stopped behind a rather large rock and glanced behind. German infantry and armor was advancing into the treeline vacated by them. He saw the well-built but average height frame of Sgt. Stoppable a bit further ahead, directing the retreat. With more than half of his squad gone, and Corporal fallen in the first assault, he only had the mind to run at the man he met earlier.

He reached the sergeant, breathing heavily and almost out of energy. "Sir!.. They are moving armor below in the treeline!"

Jonathan looked at him and then behind the young soldier. A bullet whizzed past them and hit the ground in between their feet.

"It's time to go kid. Move!" He held the arm of the young man and made him run. He also signaled a full retreat to anyone around. But it was futile, the battered American forces were going to be caught by the fresh and tank-supported Germans.

Suddenly, a streak blew past the retreating American forces and skewered through advancing German lines. Some Americans stopped and watched as the red streak weaved through their enemies with precision.

Both Jonathan's and Hiram's eyes were widened as they watched the streak. It was being tracked by a hollow, shimmering energy. Whatever, or whoever it was effectively stopped the German advance on their retreat path.

The streak covered in shimmering energy circled all three of the German tanks once, and they blew up a few seconds later. All remaining Germans started to fire at the streak, but their momentum was broken with their advance halted.

Concentrated fire failed to catch the streak. But a stray mortar shell exploding very close by as it passed didn't. The streak tumbled and the two watching men saw that it was another man. He was holding his foot and looked to be in serious pain.

Before Hiram could understand what was going on, Jonathan had broken into a dash towards the fallen man. Without a thought, he followed.

Jonathan reached the man to see it was another young man with brown hair, no more than twenty five years of age, holding a rather badly injured foot. He knew wounds like that, the foot was forfeit at this point. But it didn't matter.

As Germans reestablished their line, a few shots whizzed past the three men. Jonathan heaved up the fallen man who wore a funny helmet with wings, and carried him on his shoulders. Hiram had caught up and collected Jonathan's rifle.

"Didn't I tell you to run, kid?!" Jonathan shouted as they ran away from Germans.

"You didn't run sir!"

They ran for half an hour, occasionally rerouting to stay away from advancing German lines. They came across a very small town, deserted by its looks. They rushed into its church and Hiram barred the door behind them.

Jonathan, spent as he is from the long run, set down the unconscious man on his shoulders. Now that they had a chance to breathe, he noticed the clothing on him. It was odd, as he only had a red shirt and dark blue pants, rather thin clothing for the biting European winter.

With Hiram's help, he uncovered a small basement alcove of the church, accessible by a small ladder. They moved the unconscious man in there, after erasing their tracks in the church as they best could, they all were concealed in the alcove. Only light source was an airhole to church itself.

Jonathan told Hiram to get some rest, as they would no doubt need it. If he was estimating correctly, German forces would take this town and push on Bastogne itself by nightfall.

He silently chuckled as he took stock of his situation.

'Rather strange turn of events for someone like me, wouldn't you say Mim?' His thoughts drifted to the woman he had not seen for more than thirty years, as they usually did when Jonathan Stoppable was left alone.

He kept watch, or more aptly, an ear on the walls of the alcove as hours passed.

Garrick woke up, feeling cold and sweaty. He was in a semi-darkened place. The last thing he remembered was how he had fallen, finally slowing down due to his body screaming in an extremely tired state. He was blasted away by a mortar shell.

He had fully expected to die back there, with Joan Williams' image in his mind. Somehow, he was alive.

He looked around to see another man, close to his own age, sleeping lightly. A voice spoke from the side he had not looked at yet.

"Finally awake huh?" Jay turned to see a graying blonde man sitting nearby, with a rifle in hand. By his uniform, he could tell this was an American sergeant. "I was beginning to think that I would have to slap you at some point."

Jay's voice croaked as he tried to answer. His dry throat was parched. The old blonde pulled out a canteen from his belt and helped Jay drink some water. "Easy there kid." He helped the young man sit up. Jay looked around for his helmet. "Here's your helmet." Jonathan pulled it from his backpack. "Figured it was important. Those are some funny ornaments you tacked on them, I must say."

Jay thanked the man. "It was my father's. Thank you."

"That was some show you put on the stage back there kid. Lots of soldiers owe their lives to you."

Jay was stumped. He just nodded slightly. The older man offered his hand. "Jonathan Stoppable."

"Jay Garrick. Thanks for the rescue."

"You can wait to thank me. We are behind enemy lines, hiding in a church with very little supplies, and your foot- Wait a minute." Jonathan squinted and took a closer look at Garrick's right foot, earlier damaged by shrapnel. It had already healed some of it. It was still far from mend, but it was still impressive.

Jay offered a pained smile. "It should heal in a day or two."

Jonathan threw him a sideways glance. "I had heard that Germans were working to create some super soldiers or something like that. What are you, one of ours?"

Jay gulped. "I... Well, you could say that, though government had nothing to do with my powers." He added the last part under his breath. "Until they requested for me use them in the war."

Jonathan didn't prod further. This young man was a hero, who saved many lives, and that was all he needed.

Hiram had woken up at this point. He got acquainted with Jay as Jonathan listened to the church above. He left his backpack and told them he was going to see what was going on.

After half an hour, he quietly crept back into the alcove.

"Town is still deserted, but some Krauts were passing by in units. I think our boys stopped them at the city." He emptied a small sack he was holding. There were some potatoes in it. "Found these in a nearby house. Better eat while we can."

He watched Garrick devour three potatoes quickly. "You seem mightily hungry there Garrick."

Jay nodded and apologized. "I'm sorry... My powers... They require me to eat frequently."

"Well, as long as we all stay alive. Isn't that right Kent?"

Hiram was absently eating one baked potato. He shook himself as he heard his name. "Sorry sir, I was thinking something else."

Jonathan looked at the young man's face, instantly deducing the cause. He asked in a knowing, half-singing voice. "What's her name?"

Hiram opened his mouth to answer, then failing that, asking how he knew. Then he gave up and softly uttered the name he was holding dear. "It's... Jess, sir. Jessica."

Jay's munching on his third potato had slowed down as well. Jonathan turned to him. "And the fair one who stole this man's heart must be Joan."

Jay stammered. "How.. How did you..?"

Jonathan smiled. "You were saying her name while I carried you. Must be something special if you were willing to die with her name on your lips."

He fell silent after that. Hiram couldn't help but ask. "Sir, what about you? You must have a family back home?"

Jonathan chuckled. "Surprisingly, I don't, Kent." He sighed. "One doesn't find much time for the finer details of life in a policeman's life."

It was Jay's turn to ask, it appeared. "Policeman? Why would a policeman as old as you would be here in the middle of the war?" Seeing Jonathan's eyebrows rising, he added hastily. "No offense... Sir."

Jonathan chuckled even harder than before. "Well, I was the police chief back in Middleton." Seeing the blank looks on both young men's faces, he added. "That's a small city back in Colorado. We are growing though."

He sighed. "Anyway, there I was. Our country plunging into war. Me, a fifty-year old police chief with some leadership experience, some firearms training and no family. Seemed like a good idea at the time." He smiled sardonically. "Shows me what I know."

He placed his backpack under his head and laid back. "Gentlemen, I used to tell the men under my command to leave their families at home and come to work with a clean slate every day." He snorted lightly. "Then again, that was police work. Here, in the war..." He closed his eyes. "Hold on tight to those names, the faces. Kent, keep watch while I sleep."

"Yes, sir." Hiram realized incredulously, that Jonathan Stoppable had fallen asleep in the same second.

Next morning was uneasy for all three of them. Garrick's foot had shown miraculous healing, yet it was still not enough for him to walk, let alone run. They had run out of food and water as well.

Jonathan scouted from inside the church and saw that the immediate area was clear, at least for now.

With Hiram helping Garrick, they all exited the church and slowly navigated towards the edge of the town.

For their bad luck, a German patrol was staying at a house nearby. Jonathan heard them and pointed to both young one's to stay silent. He pulled out his sidearm and slowly crept to the door. Looking inside from the edge of a window, he saw three German soldiers sitting at the table eating and talking.

Taking a deep breath, he rushed inside. With precision and conviction that spoke volumes about his experience as a policeman, he shot the first two soldiers in quick succession. The third one reacted and jumped on him before he could shoot him as well. They rolled on the ground.

Jonathan, with his experience, didn't try to wrestle the gun too much. He threw it away and pulled his knife from his boot with his left hand. Before the young German soldier knew what had happened, his throat was cut open. He bled on Jonathan's clothes before the aging soldier moved away.

He wiped the blade on the dying German's uniform and sheathed it back inside his boot. Then he quickly patted around his pockets for anything useful.

Jay and Hiram were watching from the door, with slightly terrified looks. Jonathan sighed and pointed inside. "There is food and water here. Also supplies and ammo. Get them, and strip the other two for anything useful."

Hiram gulped. "Sir... We... Do we have to do this?"

Jonathan stopped for a second and looked them in the eyes. "Yes. Survival in war requires such measures. Go on, hurry up."

They did as Jonathan instructed. After having Hiram help Jay a fair distance, the ex-policeman set fire to the house. He came near the other two men running. "Let's move."

"What was that fire for?" Jay asked as he hobbled with Hiram's help.

"Drawing their attention."

"Sir, where are we going?"

Jonathan pointed westward. "According to Jay, General Patton's forces were going to try for an offensive in that general direction just after Christmas. If they went with that plan, that's our best bet to get back."

Jay added. "Though that was what I was told when they ordered me to halt German advance, I don't know how valid it is anymore."

"It's the best plan we have." Jonathan led them both into the nearby forest and kept a steady pace.

Towards afternoon, they heard movement close by. Hiding behind a hill, they scouted ahead. Jonathan scanned the area ahead with the binoculars he had pulled out of his pack. He whistled.

"What is it sir?"

Jonathan answered as he kept looking. "I think that's a U.S. Armored Division driving the German line back down."

"That's a good thing, isn't it Sir?" Hiram asked enthusiastically, as he and Jay exchanged happy looks.

"Well, it is good for the besieged in Bastogne. Problem is, gentlemen, some of those Germans are heading right our way."

The two young men's faces fell immediately. Jonathan lowered the binoculars and looked at them. "Garrick, how's the foot? Can you run yet?" The young speedster gave it a try, but his foot couldn't hold him as he tried to stand.

Jonathan sighed. "Well, it was worth a try." He sighed and looked around. He pulled Hiram near him and pointed somewhere nearby. "You see that rock formation?" Hiram nodded and the old soldier continued. "You will take Garrick there. From there, you can run downhill and reach that road in a minute or so."

"Sir, it's too exposed. We will never make it."

"Yes, you will. Germans will be too busy trying to look at their right flank to notice two guys slipping from left."

"But why would they look-" Hiram stopped as both he and Jay understood what he was saying. "Sir, no. We can't accept this."

"Well, tough luck kid. I outrank you, so I'm making this an order."

"I'd be court martialed first, if the alternative is to leave a good man behind." Hiram's conviction was admirable.

And for Jonathan, it was unnecessary. "I'm a somewhat old man Kent. No need to dramatize this."

"I will not accept this!"

Jonathan looked him straight in the eyes. "Jessica is still at Smallville kid. I take it that you didn't love her nearly as much as you claimed then."

"I..." Hiram's head fell forward.

"Go and live like a man. There is no honor in dying with a washed up cop at European countryside."

Jay's hand fell on Jonathan's shoulder. "I'm... I'm sorry. I could get us out if I was more careful earlier."

"You were saving lives, that's what you were doing. Don't apologize for that."

Jonathan pointed to Hiram. "Drop your rifle with me. Take the sidearm. You will need to be light." He collected Hiram's ammo and strapped both rifles on his back. "Go to the rocks. Wait for the first gunshot from that hill." He pointed to a hill on German right flank. "Now, go!"

He turned around and ran, not even letting them answer. German forces were also making a run for their vicinity, so they also ran to the rocks as Jonathan instructed.

A few minutes later, the sound of a standard issue American M1 Garand echoed from the hills on the other side. German line slowed down and turned towards there, turning their backs to their left flank as they advanced uphill.

Hiram heaved Jay on his shoulders and ran as fast as he could, tears running down his eyes as they both heard the German rifles going off.

Jonathan had found a rather good perch. From the top of another hill, he had hidden in a bush. He waited for a few minutes to give time for boys to get in position, then fired upon the first German that came within his rifle's sight.

He kept firing as more Germans fell to his rifle fire. Pretty soon though, they figured out his location. He crawled out of the bush and took cover behind a rather large rock.

His rifle ammo spent, he drew his remaining sidearm and shot the first five German soldiers that tried to creep around the treeline. Finally, another German broke through the treeline and saw that he was alone. He screamed the situation to his friends before Jonathan could shoot him.

Germans, now knowing that it was only one man, poured around the hill and started raining down bullets on Jonathan's cover. He heard some soldiers running and saw them getting close. He shot one of them, but seeing that his gun was empty, he pulled his knife and killed two others. The last one managed to shoot him with his pistol, catching Jonathan in the right shoulder. He fell down and crawled behind the rock he was taking cover earlier.

It wouldn't be too long now. He pulled out an old, battered photo from the inside of his helmet. It was the black and white photo of a young woman, looking to be at her early twenties.

"Wish I could have seen you one more time, Mim. Goodbye... wherever you are."

Just as the rushing sounds of German soldiers closed up, he heard a loud sound, some weird combination of lightning and wind. He stuck his head out slightly to see a most amazing visage. An impossibly fast streak was knocking down all of the German soldiers in the vicinity. All he could see was yellow lightning flashing around.

The flashes stopped, and Jonathan saw something, someone, defying reason and logic. A man, dressed in head to toe dark red leather was standing only a short distance away. He was, if Jonathan's eyes were not deceiving him, was vibrating with his entire body. His features couldn't be made out. He could tell that he also had a mask on and that he was slightly taller than Jonathan himself, maybe around 5 ft 11 inches.

This man didn't look like Jay Garrick, yet he asked anyway. "Jay, is that you?"

The answering voice was reverbrating and distorted. "No, but I am a friend Jonathan."

"Who are you? Why did you save me?!" Jonathan realized something. Ever since the start of this war, he was seeking an honorable end to his lonely existence. This man had probably taken that from him.

"I dunno, you looked like you really wanted something more than simply dying there." The distorted voice gave out a little laugh. "That, and I'm totally badical. You can call me.." He slightly chuckled. "Ron." The masked man gave a two finger salute at Jonathan. "Take care Jon. We won't see each other again."

The next moment, the man was gone in a flash of lightning.

The advancing American armored division found Jonathan leaning against a rock covered with corpses and many more alive, but unconscious German soldiers.

The President of the United States of America, authorized by Act of Congress, July 9, 1918, takes pride in presenting the Distinguished Service Cross to Staff Sergeant Jonathan Ronald Stoppable, United States Army, for extraordinary heroism in connection with military operations against an armed enemy while serving with the 502nd Infantry Regiment, 101st Airborne Division, in action against enemy forces on 26 December 1944, in Belgium.

-Excerpt from the citation, Distinguished Service Cross presentation to Jonathan R. Stoppable

October 1951

Smallville, Kansas

Hiram stood near his wife, Jess, as she had just delivered a healthy boy. It was a good year for the crops, and it was a good year for his new family.

"I told you it would be a boy Hiram."

"Yes, you did, dear."

"Do you have a good name in mind?"

Hiram smiled slightly. "I have. What do you think of Jonathan?"

Author Notes: From here on out, I will post some side stories that I mentioned within main storyline in short pieces like this, so as not to clot the main chapters so much, also to give the readers a little extra content. ( Albeit unedited. This one has not been beta-read, and there is not much need to, as this an extra content for avid readers. You can just not read if you don't want to.)