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you've got time, i've got rhythm

Inertia wakes up to distorted images and sounds conversing over him. They're most likely discussing what to do with him, though he's too out of it to remember why that's a bad thing.

He blinks once, twice.

The voices have died down to soft murmurs as they leave the room, and he squints, trying to adjust to the bright, bright lights. The colors and sounds eventually begin to make shapes and words, but he closes them again as footsteps sound and the noises get louder.

He fakes unconsciousness, breathing deeply as he listens. Some time passes before the ringing in his ears subsides, and his hearing returns to normal. He hears shallow, heavy breathing above him, and snaps his eyes open.

He's greeted to the uncomfortably close sight of wide yellow eyes and a mop of brown hair. Naturally, he reacts as any other sane person would.

He bolts up and screams.

Conner and M'gann are in the training room, discussing gossip with the newest Robin when they hear the loud yell, right before it suddenly cuts off. Their natural reaction is to run towards the noise, quickly, quickly, — before they remember their guest and the inhibitor collar preventing the speedster from using his powers.

The scream's not coming from any voice they know, so it's probably not all that important, right?

Tim looks to Superboy for orders, but merely receives a helpless shrug in response. Superboy doesn't know what to do either.

M'gann giggles at their passivity, and it sounds like the tinkle of wind chimes. It's Bart, she knows, and everyone who's met him has probably had the urge to strangle him at some point in their lives, but —

Shouldn't they save the boy from Impulse and his spontaneity?

Tim nods, but doesn't do much else. Superboy goes back to staring into space.

Apparently not.

Dick Grayson's supposedly working on the Watchtower's security feeds — he's maybe, kind of, sort of alternating between updating the system and spying on the girls — when he hears a shout.

It ends abruptly, and he knows he should probably check it out, but he's kind of worried over the fact that his best friend and ex-girlfriend are going shopping together. Some things are far less whelming, dude.

Because, seriously, what are they talking about? They're not discussing him, are they?

Oh god, what if they're going over his bad tics? He's heard Zatanna complain about his eating habits, — eating cereal out of the box with his toes is a perfectly valid table manner, Z! — and Babara's more often than not told him that he looked like a panda, — it's the sleepless nights fighting crime for justice, Babs, let's be a little chalant about this — or what if it's —

No, wait, it's about girl stuff.

Wait, what?! That goes where?!

Eww…

Anyways, he should probably be glad that Starfire's not with them. Then he'd really worry. While Kori and him aren't an item anymore, he hadn't ended things with her on very amiable terms. She'd probably set fire to anyone else he's dating.

Luckily, Z's the one who saw how he wasn't really into her. And Bette's a little too creepy for him. But, then again, he and Babs sort of have this on-again, off-again thing going on, and —

Oh. My. God. Is that Kori?!

No, no, nononono, dammit! Don't go there, Babs!

Noooooo!~

Batman's in the break room at Happy Harbor trying to settle another argument between Dinah and Oliver. Something about marital rights and flirting and cheating and sidekicks and — Red Arrow? Really, Ollie?

Between Black Canary's screeching and Green Arrow's stuttering, Bruce is growing a migraine the size of the Watchtower, and he's not sure if he really wants to know. At all. About any of this.

Because, really? From what he's caught of the argument alone, he's pretty sure something underage and illegal happened, again, and he'll probably have to have another talk about what it means to be mentor and sidekick with the whole crew. Again.

Oh, dear god, he hopes not. Once was bad enough, and that had been over the whole uncle-nephew thing the Flash and his Kid had going on.

He's still not sure if he got the message across.

Over the noise and his own musings, Batman doesn't hear the frightened shout, and, as the rest of the Team's still out living their civilian lives outside the Cave, no help arrives for the kid Bart found.

So maybe Bart hadn't really thought things through when he decided to bring Inertia back with him. Or when he decided to travel back in the first place and rescue Grandpa Barry. Or when he went and gorged himself on Chicken Whizees. Now that had been hilarious, and so totally, totally crash.

In his defense, his cousin's the one who got him addicted to them in the first place.

But! But, but, but! It's just Thad — before he became a freaky murdering psycho! How bad could it possibly be?

Apparently, very bad — so very, very bad. So not crash.

"First, ow, eardrums! And, dude, what're you doing here? Did Maxsendyou? Heywait-noIbetit's — "

All Bart really hears are a bunch of angry mumbles. And dude, the glare's back. It still looks sort of crazy. Why's his clone so mad all the time? It totally makes no sense, andwhy'dhegopickhimupanyways? And —

More mumbles. "Come on, dude, speak up!"

Or glare, that's cool, too.

Oh, hands.

Bart totally knows what he's doing. Really, he does.

As soon as Bart removes the offending appendages from his mouth, Inertia pushes the boy off of him and jumps backwards, placing enough distance between them that he can escape easily if need be.

And, a lot of the time, it needs be.

He still wonders, sometimes, if Bart should even be thought of as dangerous, or even a nemesis. Really, each meeting merely reasserts the fact that this boy cannot possibly be a threat.

The fact that it took so long for Impulse to understand why he couldn't answer him is not at all reassuring. Frankly, it is times like these that he thinks it would make more sense if he were the original, and Bart Allen the clone.

It would at least explain the boy's impulsiveness and stupidity.

Before he can get a word in, edgewise, though, Bart's in his personal space, again, and chattering at him miles a minute. Unfortunately, he's still a speedster, and hears every. Single. Inane. Thing. Coming. Out. Of his. Mouth.

Grife, why the mode is this his life.