Just Wanted Love.

This is a little story I pieced together based on my own opinions of Impulse and Inertia. Enjoy and please review. Based in my 'First Step' AU. Go read it if you haven't already!


It had always been the same. Every day, he would train for hours on end in a reality which didn't really exist and he would complete most of them to perfection.

Most of them.

But there would be ones which he tripped up on, made a tiny mistake. Then the world would disintegrate into little pieces and he would be faced with fear and pain.

"Boy! Get down here!"

Oh no, I'm sorry, I'msorryforwhatI've-

It would just happen so quickly and that scares him because he's a speedster and subjective time is supposed to be slower than them. Cradyl never helped him either. He just watched, a blank mask clamped to his perfected green features, to his perfected computer system. But what could he do really?

"You are a THAWNE! And what are Thawnes?"

The answer was drilled relentlessly into him – he knew it off by heart now.

"B-Better than Allens."

The first punch would send him reeling, a shaking hand brought up to his already healing face in shock, even though he relived this punishment day in, day out. The second would throw him against the hard cold wall as he cried out and apologised, nearly in tears. Then President Thawne would really lay into him, kicking him and breaking a few bones, sneering as they cracked when they started to heal at supersonic rates.

It was agony – hell.

"I'm sorry, I – I won't do it again, I promise!"

"I'm making sure that you won't!"

Damp gold eyes streamed with petrified tears, wide with terror as he was dragged by his soft yellow hair to the dank cell; where he was locked in, screaming and pounding at the heavy metal door as the footsteps faded away.

He was normally locked in there for three days, not fed or watered. Most people would die, but Thaddeus Thawne wasn't a Thawne for nothing. He found a dripping water pipe in one of his routine lock-ups and he used to drink from that whenever he needed to. The boy would still come close to death though, for his metabolism and speed required him to eat more often than normal humans. The lack of food always made him sick and dizzy and he would curl up shivering as he drifted through a waking nightmare, always found unconscious by Cradyl and nursed back to health by him – it was the only way he could spite his master.

And then it would begin all over again.

He dreaded retiring at night too, for President Thawne would stalk in and torment him, creeping up out of the shadows like something out of his worst nightmares. Thad would curl up in the corner of his hibernation chamber under his quilt and cry or rock in a huddle with his arms clasped around his thin legs as Thawne whispered damning words of cruelty and deceit down his ear, relishing the pain that it caused the youngster.

"You know why you're here…not because anyone wants you, but because those damn Allens need to be taught a lesson, don't they? Especially that Bartholomew Allen – because of him, YOU were created. It's a pain, having you around and nobody could ever love something as twisted and evil as you."

And so forth – the piercing knives and sharp needles flowed continuously from his terrible creator's mouth, poisoning his very thoughts and feelings, about himself, about the Flash family name.

He hated him.

He hated them.

But worst of all, he hated himself.

Yet, he still wanted to gain good attention from his captor. He wanted to make him PROUD, for him to sit up and take positive notice.

"I'll defeat Bart Allen, you wait and see Cradyl."

"I know you will kid."

Only Cradyl ever believed. Only Cradyl ever smiled at him and called him nicknames.

Thad cared for him.

Time moved on and Inertia still can't beat Impulse. He tried, oh god knows he tried. But when he came back…

"You good for nothing son of a bitch! Sprocking grief, boy! I brought you into this world for nothing!"

A brutal beating this time. Thad can't walk for two weeks.

"I'm sorry, little one. I should have stopped him."

"You can't Cradyl. He'll only render you…inert."

"Don't cry Inertia!"

He ran away after impersonating Impulse and almost killing a mentor that actually loved him – well Bart really. How was he to know who he was?

A freak. An evil demon.

Thaddeus Thawne saw the love and trust and respect between Bart Allen and Max Mercury, how Bart was utterly willing to die for his father figure.

"Haven't you ever loved anyone? Hasn't anyone ever loved you?"

"…No."

It's true. Even Cradyl couldn't properly love him. The computer isn't programmed to love.

The teachings of Thawne heritage were all a lie, a sham.

"I HATE YOU THAWNE!"

He can't go back. They've got Science Police baying for his blood.

Thad is so frightened and alone.

Inertia is sick.

It hurt to move. He couldn't breathe and it was like fate hated him, making him throw up and shake spasmodically with dry, hot fever. His onyx and emerald costume blended in well with the shadows of the dusty desert.

Too well.

No one found him – or bothered looking. Thad could barely walk, but he tried anyway, persisting to stumble fitfully through endless dry sand, the beating heat, silky soft sand…

It felt nice to lie on.

He didn't remember anything after he collapsed, dying of dehydration and fever. Someone saved him though, he's certain of that. Someone kind and gentle picked him up and took him to a shaded place with cool, fresh water and ice. When he woke up, he was alone in Alabama.


Impulse didn't really remember his days imprisoned by the Earth Government and their Science Police and virtual reality.

Probably because most of it is repressed.

When he does remember, he panics and has terrible nightmares for days.

Thawne would rarely visit the golden-eyed innocent but when he did, there would be a maniacal gleam in his icy eyes.

"Ah, my heir to the Allen's defeat."

That would set Impulse off thinking, withdrawing into himself as Thawne made him do experiments that hurt, like running in a race to stop himself from being violently electrocuted.

He never won.

Possibly because the experiments were rigged for Thawne's own sadistic pleasures.

What was he an heir to? Who were the Allens? Why did Thawne hate them, hate HIM so much?

It had something to do with his family, he was sure of it. Their surname (and his) was Allen too. Were they the same people?

His questions were answered when his grandmother Iris West Allen came to do a journalist column. She only had to glimpse him once to know he was her grandson. She fled to tell his mother Meloni Thawne. However, Bart wasn't aware of this at the time. He was too busy coping with the virtual lies that they fed him so he wouldn't waste away to old age and die.

They turn the machine off.

Impulse knew they'd destroyed his world from the moment it disintegrated around him and he felt that burning deep in his heart. It was utter torture, seeing Thawne watching him as he convulsed on the concrete, struggling against his hyperactive metabolism.

"Such a pity. You were going to be a fine Thawne."

He didn't want to be a Thawne! He wouldn't!

His grandmother and great-grandparents came to save him from the endless grey and burning. It wasn't easy, especially when she got separated from him.

"Grandma!"

A new world, ripe for brave discovery. Unfortunately at that particular moment, Bart was in great pain and could barely control the inexorable speed within. Despite his grandmother's attempts to soothe him, the child couldn't stop running.

Wallace West saved his life.

He'd only needed to see the dilated pupils in those big beautiful honey-gold eyes to understand what ailed him. Bart had been petrified of the Flash – seeing the man chasing him to capture the boy made him panic and attack him – something which he regretted later. It had been like saws carving through his little body, running to the limit where something sinewy inside Impulse snapped.

"AGH!"

He'd barely been conscious by the time Wally supported him back to Iris. He remembered vibrating through the pale green wall.

And then a void, filled with galaxies and inky sky.

"I understand how you feel Thad."

"No. No you don't."

But they hug anyway and continue to snuggle in Thad's bed together, content to be brothers.

After all, they both woke up in their separate rooms a few minutes before from a terrible nightmare.

Impulse and Inertia just wanted love.

And in the end, they got it.