I'll go ahead and be the first to admit, I just throw ideas out there. This one has been bugging me ever since I read a request from a different author. So without further ado, the story. Please note that this is DEFINITELY post Endgame, and show plot almost exactly.
The first thing he can remember hearing is the explosion.
Once second it was nothing, literally nothing but gray fuzz in his head, and the next he was jerking awake to see his world was on fire. Nothing but an inferno engulfing what looked like lab tools and a large computer with high tech equipment next to it.
He took a shaking breath, then another, then another. This was okay, his brain pointed out. Even if the world was on fire, he was inside the glass pod, the heat wave couldn't get him in- in- pod. He was in a pod. He looked down at himself in horror. He was in a Cadmus pod!
-he typed furiously at the system, trying to figure out just what this mini clone of Clark was about. Kaldur gestured to the creatures seated above the clone's head, and he promptly answered. "Genomorph gnomes. Telepathic. Force feeding him an education."
"And we can guess what else," he turned to see familiar green eyes narrowed in disgust, "they're making a slave out of, well, Superman's son."-
He cringed at the memory, accepting the images but not understanding them. And something about it didn't feel right, but the pod he was in was definitely similar to what he saw in the… flashback? It could have been, he at least knew it had to do with Cadmus. And Cadmus was bad, real bad. Meaning he should really be escaping- now! Not really thinking about it he shoved forcefully into the glass, gasping as the pain zinged up his arm. Jeeze, that shouldn't hurt as much as it did, right?
Didn't matter, first get out of the situation, then care about pain. Maybe he should call for help? No, this was Cadmus, he wasn't going to want whatever 'help' was around here. He pounded furiously at the glass, shocked at how much he felt the sting of his bare hands landing on the glass. What would happen if he couldn't get out? If those flames reached him? Could this cell hold against heat? Against another aggressive blast? A primal fear consumed him, and nothing mattered but him getting out out out!
He didn't even realize that his hands were bruising, but suddenly the glass gave leeway, and with a cry of relief he backed against the wall and pushed relentlessly with his feet, forcing the crack open further until it was enough to squeeze through.
But even as he took tentative steps away from the prison, carefully checking his footing and eyeing the ever approaching fire, another blast echoed behind him, and before he could do anything but draw a sharp breath, he was flying through the air, feeling the sting of heat on his neck and hands. He landed roughly on the ground, his hands instinctively covering his head as he heard the sharp pings of glass dance around him. The moment the tremors ceased he scrambled up, looking back to the now destroyed pod. So much for fire proof.
Whatever he was wearing, it was protecting him from most of the heat. His hands and face, though, he could feel growing burned the longer he was exposed to the high temperature. And the room's oxygen supply wasn't going to last much longer. Quickly looking around, he realized in panic that there were no windows, and the doorway from where the blast had come was blocked with debris. I have to get out, once the fire feeds through the wiring to the central core of the computer system, the blast will definitely take me out! Ignoring the pain from both heat and physical injury as flight mode kicked in, he made frantically searched until- there! Frantically, practically tripping, he approached the door and found his assumption to be correct; a stair well. Cautiously he tapped the handle, relieved when he wasn't burned. Praying the new flow of oxygen wouldn't incinerate him; he quickly opened the door and moved to close it. The heat intensified briefly, and he was convinced he would have blisters on his neck, but as soon as the door shut he was trapped in cool darkness.
No lights, I'll have to do this one on my own. Aware of the ominous glow from the cracks, he groped blindly until he accidentally kicked the metal step. Shaking as the adrenaline wore off, he dropped on all fours and frantically crawled up, counting the floors as he spiraled skywards. 1 flight… 2… 3… 4…
On his 8th, he felt another tremor, and to his immense surprise saw some door about two more flights up be kicked open, and something that was human sized falling past him with a blood curdling scream until it was abruptly cut off by a crunchy splat! He froze, suddenly realizing that he might very well be going from out of the frying pan and into the fire. What the hell had Cadmus done? Who was up there?
The building shaking finally convinced him that it was still worth a shot trying to get out than being crushed in the rubble. Finally getting close enough to the light where he could stand and walk, he peered cautiously around the corner, looking for any sign of whoever had thrown the other guy to his death. There was no fire up here, but it looked like a late twilight was letting just enough light into the surroundings. As far as he could see, the room had been abandoned, albeit some crushed furniture and- laser burns? God, whatever was going on, he was in some really deep shit. Hurrying out and ducking behind an overturned employee table, he scanned the room until he located the far door- and a window through it! Finally!
Wincing as he used his hands to rise again, he hurried to the other side of the room, exiting and heading straight for the window. He looked out to find that he was actually a story off the ground now, but there was a roof directly outside of this window, if he could get out there, he could find a drain pipe! There was no way he was risking looking anywhere else for the way down, not with the possibility of a killer on the loose. He tried prying at the base with his stubbed fingernails, looking for any kind of catch that could raise the glass. "C'mon, c'mon…!" With a jittering pang he realized that if this was a public building, it was probably glued shut. He'd have to try breaking it by ramming, maybe. Or if he ran back to the other room to find a chair-
A loud thunk! echoed through the shadowed hallway and he cried out in panic when he realized that an arrow had imbedded itself right next to his head.
"Don't. Move."
Trembling, images of the man screaming as he hurtled through space to his demise echoing through his head, he hesitantly raised his hands. Every inch of his body was screaming, terrified he was about to feel some sharp projectile slamming right into him.
"Face me, slowly."
Doing as he was told, his eyes hesitantly turned to face the killer. He was tall, the light trickling in showing a well muscled body and slightly ragged red hair. He couldn't really think about much else, because now he could see the shiny metal arrow aimed firmly at his head, and he felt a sick sort of hypnotism, unable to draw his eyes away.
"Come towards me."
Towards the arrow? Towards the killer? He couldn't. His legs felt glued to the floor. He just couldn't. But then the arrow loosed and he jumped as it landed parallel to the other one on the opposite side of his head.
"Now, Cadmus scum. I'll hit you this time."
The thought of another arrow being loosed and imbedded in his body did the trick, and he shakily walked forward, terrified and glad he didn't have to use the bathroom. Oh god, I have no clue what's going on, and I'm going to die.
As he got closer, so the light didn't cast him in shadow and the man could see him, two odd things happened.
First, he could tell right when the man's dark eyes saw his face, because suddenly the intense glare and angry lines were gone, smoothing down into a look of horrible disbelief. His whole body slackened, though it was obviously a part of the reaction and not because he was relaxing. The second is what the man said next.
"Wally?"
The name triggered something in him, and thousands of images flashed in his head, the primary one being of a boy with orange tussled hair and freckles, green eyes laughing. That was Wally. And then another thought occurred, that was him. He was Wally.
"It's… not possible…" The man dropped the bow and took a step forward, the free hand outstretching towards him.
Wally jumped back instinctively, shocked when a hoarse noise came out of his mouth before he realized that he had spoken. "Who are you?"
The adult froze, his hand jerking as his eyes widened further. "You don't know?"
Wally didn't like that question, because he was beginning to realize he didn't know a lot of anything. And he wasn't sure if the man would be upset if he said he had no clue who he was or what was going on. "I'm just trying to escape." He couldn't look away from the eyes that were now fixated on his own, wondering at the emotion that he wasn't sure how to discern. "There's- there's a fire down there." He pointed dumbly to the door.
But the man didn't turn to look; he kept his gaze straight on Wally. Something in what he said must have meant bad news, because he looked even further in shock. "No." He breathed in epiphany, looking as though he was seeing Wally for the first time. "We knew they were up to something big, that it had to be stopped, but I never thought…"
He wasn't making sense, but Wally had a feeling he was somehow apart of whatever the man was trying to stop. Did that mean he had started the fire? The next question jumped out of his mouth before he could stop himself. "Are you going to kill me?"
The words brought the man back to present, and his gaze hardened considerably. Wally stepped back, but the adult pressed forward, daring him to look away even as the building shook again, dust falling from the ceiling. "Who are you?"
I asked you first. He thought he was Wally, hadn't that been what the man said? "I- I don't know."
The archer's hand landed on his shoulder, keeping him immobilized while he pressed. "Who are you?"
"I don't know!" He frantically exclaimed. "You- you said my name was Wally! Part of me says I'm Wally, but…" How could he explain that he couldn't remember? That nothing made sense right now? "I don't know…"
Inexplicably, the man's countenance softened slightly. "Tell me what you know about this place, about the people who come here."
"I- I," He couldn't remember people. He knew what people looked like, he remembered faces with names in a weird memory, but nothing else. "C-Cadmus, that's where I am, and that's never good."
"And the people?" He grew harder again. "Who come here? Who's in charge?"
Wally felt helpless. "I only know you." He said quietly, trying not to think of the other man he saw die. "There's… I don't remember anyone else."
The man let out a breath, muttering to himself and letting go of Wally's shoulder. "The source said it wasn't complete, it sounds like we made it in time." He looked back at Wally, an expression of sadness that Wally couldn't fathom. "They're sick to do this, of all things."
He really didn't understand, but before he could ask further, they both stiffened at the same time as the tell tale sound of footsteps sounded down the hallway. Wally froze, wondering if his life was about to get infinitely worse.
"Shit." The man hissed quietly, looking from Wally to the sound and back. He couldn't help but wonder if he was trying to figure out if using him as a shield would work. "Alright, kid." The man dropped his current arrow and silently reached for a new one, this one a different shape. "Stay put." His feet making the barest whisper, he quickly hurried towards the echoing steps, slinking around the corner.
Wally stayed rooted to the spot, not because the man had told him to, but because he was pretty sure someone was about to die, and he didn't want to draw any attention to himself. He knelt low to the ground just as the tell tale sound of an arrow loosing and a cry of shock rang down the hall. An odd sucking sound followed, but Wally forgot it as footsteps pounded back to his location, and he instantly picked up the arrow left behind.
The angry archer turned deftly around the corner and faced him, trying to discern his position from the shadows. "What are you doing?"
"Did you kill him?" He asked anxiously. What if he had? What if he just enjoyed killing? The man must have heard the ring of fear in his voice, because his expression became less harsh, oddly resigned. He stepped towards where Wally was crouched and the green eyed boy quickly pointed the arrow at him, trying to keep him at bay. "Did you?"
"No, kid." He hunkered down right by him and easily wretched the arrow from his hand, grasping his arm and pulling the boy up. "I'm not a killer, and I'll never be one." He quickly replaced the old arrow and grabbed another strange one, slamming it into the glass and then yanking Wally down the hallway and away as it began to beep.
The rounded the corner and Wally could see an odd foam substance blocking the entire hallway that had not been there before, but he didn't get to think further on it as their previous location exploded. He let out a yell, but the man was already dragging him back toward the window, which was now completely blown out. "What are you doing?" He called frantically as the man got another arrow ready and aimed for a thicker tree.
"Getting you out of here!" He barked out, releasing the arrow which was not an arrow at all, but some oddly formed grappling rope. He quickly wrapped a hand around Wally's waist, and even as another explosion sounded from where that foam had been, he pushed off the roof and quickly landed them on the ground, racing towards the woods.
Wally heard an angry yell behind him, feeling the voice was eerily familiar, like it was a part of those memories he was missing, but he couldn't really be bothered to think about it right then. All he knew was this man got him out, and since he hadn't killed him yet, he'd stay with him until it was safe to slip away.
They continued until Wally was practically tripping over himself from both the now solid darkness and sheer exhaustion. Trembling, he finally collapsed, half expecting the guy to either leave him or drag him by his hair. But he didn't, instead coming back and sitting Wally up, supporting him until he could sit right on his own. The archers hands found his, and Wally stifled a yelp as he started to examine the cuts and blisters. "Geeze kid, you sure did a number here."
"I," he panted between breathes, "was stuck in the- the pod. When I got out, the room was pretty bad, and the glass exploded on me." Huh, now that he thought about it, this was a really horrible thing to wake up to for someone without memories.
"Team C must have set up the bomb and then ran without scanning for life forms, when they heard we had been compromised they probably panicked."
Wally stared at him, unable to read his expression in the dark. "Okay…" So he did mean to kill him? Or was it Team C? "Where are you taking me?"
The man heaved a sigh. "One of my bases, we're going to wait there until I regroup with our Team, and then we all need to figure out what to do with you."
"You mean the Team that tried to kill me?" There was something wrong with not having your memories and being able to defend yourself. "Why do you want me dead?" He blurted before thinking it over.
A hand landed on his shoulder again, but this time in comfort, not intending to be menacing. "We don't want you dead. They made a mistake in doing this, but we would never try to kill you, kid. Like I said, I'll never be a killer, its kinda against the job description."
Wally really wanted to know just what this guy's 'job' was, and he couldn't help noticing since that first time, he hadn't called him 'Wally'. But something else caught his eye. "What's the blinker on your uniform?"
"What?" The guy sounded alarmed, and cussed thoroughly after he found it and ripped it off. "Of course he planted a tracer, shit!" He stood and quickly forced Wally to follow suit. "I'm sorry about this, but you need to head off on your own."
Now it was Wally's turn to be alarmed. "What? Where? I barely have a clue what's going on!"
"Don't argue!" He hissed out, looking through his too small pile of arrows. "They planted a tracer to follow me, but they won't know you're here. I don't know what's going on, but you cannot be caught by them."
"Who are 'them'?" He demanded exasperatedly.
He stopped and glanced over to him in the dark. "The world's greatest enemies." He stood and turned Wally in a barely visible direction. "I doubt you can be stealthy, but if you can get far enough away it won't matter. Keep going for another three miles and you should hit the forest's end. That'll run to a highway which you should follow north to Gotham." Wally suddenly had an intense desire not to leave, to stay with the only person he really knew, the only thing that was grounding him in the sea of uncertainty. "If I can, I'll come find you. Don't go to the authorities, and don't get caught by anyone in the city after dark."
"I don't even know who you are." He murmured quietly, doing his best not to sound upset by this situation. "What if I don't make it?"
"Call me Red Arrow, kid. And you will, you have to." He gave a shove forward, causing him to stumble. "Go, kid."
Wally glanced back, a word of thanks on the tip of his tongue, but instead he turned and hurried away, into the dense gloom. He stayed as quiet as possible, and not ten minutes later he heard the sound of gun fire and arrows being released. He kept going until the fighting abruptly ended, and Wally couldn't help but feel even more alone than he had felt when first awakening.
Whatever lay ahead for him, he hoped it was better than the present.
Comments, thoughts, theories? Dislikes, likes? Spelling/ Grammer issues (no, seriously)? Give me something to work with!
