Part 2.

Flash's perspective.

Barry sat, in his civilian clothes, a small way across the bar from the criminal he was stalking.

Sometimes, he thought to himself, stealth is better than speed.

He watched through his periphery as the old rogue Captain Cold sat at his usual stool, nursing a flattening pint and waiting for, as he had said 'a friend'.

This friend, Barry guessed, was Mirror Master. He'd seen them together a lot lately, and just wanted to see if he could overhear what they were planning.

"Oi," came a voice from the door.

"Oi," Captain Cold replied.

Barry saw him get to his feet, then heard the soft slap of a violent welcoming hug.

"My boy, how are you?" Captain Cold said warmly.

The two began to engage in the chitchat usual of old friends, the sort that always made Barry bored. So he turned his attention to the tv, just until the chitchatting was over.

"-In other news, today in Gotham, the Joker help up Gotham steal-works, holding 18 people hostage and threatening to kill them using molten steal and a blowtorch. He was apprehended by the police after almost 3 hours, with help from the Batman."

God, Batman had managed to catch Joker, and save the hostages, in under 3 hours, and Barry didn't even know what his rogues were planning.

"Batman? You talked to Superman? You know where he's going?" Barry asked across the justice league conference table.

Batman shook his head, turning from Flash as he walked to the door, "I don't know, Flash, it's Superman's plan… He's been extra careful about this, even I can't hack it… I only know he's working with the government."

Flash put his head in his hands, elbows leaning on the table and his foot tapping madly, "I've got such a bad feeling about this."

Find him.

Find him.

He had to find him.

Flash sped along the beach of the Chinese bay, the last place Superman's tracker had registered him, almost 3 hours ago, the first time in three weeks, this was their best bet of finding him.

No one expected him to be alive, the tracker had registered for only half an hour…

Oh god.

There was a body in the distance, withered and unmoving.

It was him.

"No…"

"Iris, I know you're mad at me, but it's just for a week. Just to help with the riots."

"You know how worried I get, Barry, how could you agree to do this and not consider my feelings?"

"This is more important than your feelings!"

Flash sat, staring at the closed coffin, Wonder-Woman in the seat beside him, Martian Manhunter on the other side.

He swallowed hard, moving his hand to hold Wonder-Woman's as the coffin began to sink into the ground.

"…I can't believe he's dead…" Barry whispered, making no attempt to hide the emotion in his voice.

He heard the woman beside him whimper gently, trying hard to not succumb to tears.

"We can't go to war with the Chinese," Barry said sadly, "We can't," he let out a gentle chuckle, "Luthor's… mad, fucking mad."

Batman nodded as he adjusted his cowl, looking around the table of heroes.

"We need to think of a way to stop this," Manhunter said, his head in his hands.

Batman growled gently, "We can't they killed superman, the whole country is baying for blood. He was the only one who could have stopped this."

"And instead he's caused it," Barry added, pointing it out, much to Batman's annoyance.

Batman clasped his hands into fists, "I refuse to fight in this war, if you wish to then I won't stop you."

Barry held up his hands to calm the larger man, "I wasn't saying I wanted to fight, I just mean that-"

"Anyone who wants to fight, you can, but you have no place here."

"We don't want to fight, Batman," Wonderwoman said gently, "We want to stop the fighting."

Batman stilled, his eyes dropping to the floor, "I…"

Diana outstretched a hand, taking Bruce's gently, "I know it hurts. We all miss him."

Batman jerked his hand from Diana's, he turned and walked out, leaving the rest of the league sitting at the table, confused.

"James, please, I'm begging you!" Flash yelled, his hands outstretched, as Trickster balanced himself on the edge of the tall building.

James looked across the rooftop, wheezing laughter coming from him, tears tracking down his face. "Th-they're dead, Flash; Piper, mirror master, all of them, all my friends! You let them do it."

"No," Flash said loudly, trying his best to calm himself, holding his hands out helplessly as James lifted his gun to his head, "Don't do it! Things will get better."

James laughed, "N-No they won't. Barry. The world's going mad, there's no going back now!"

Barry closed his eyes as James pressed his finger against the trigger.

There was a loud bang.

Flash opened his eyes, James was gone. He'd fallen from the edge of the building, crumpled in a bleeding mess, 10 floors down.

He'd let him die.

Barry placed his finger to his ear, turning on the communicator. "Batman. They're evacuating the city, I'm going to help."

"What?" Batman yelled, "No! We've only got a few minutes, you need to get to the bunker!"

Barry could feel his eyes starting to cloud, "Why, Batman? I can help, I need to help save them."

"You can't save everyone!"

"If I save even one person it'll be worth it."

"Worth your life?! Barry you get into your bunker now or…"

"Or what, Bruce? Or the world will end? It's ending now! I want to die doing what I can to help, not hidden like a coward in a vault!"

There was silence from the other end, then finally Bruce sighed, saying quietly, "Good luck, Barry. You're a great man."

Flash ran up to the group of now-homeless, looking at the heaps of bags they had, filled with the last of their things. They couldn't take them with them, but they hadn't been told that.

"Give me the child," Flash said shortly, holding out his hands to take the small toddler from the mother, "I'll take her to the north-west bunker, find her there."

The woman handed him the little one, "S-she has her identification with her."

The child waved goodbye to her parents as Flash sped off towards the north-west vault. Barry knew she wouldn't see her parents again, he knew they wouldn't have time to get to the bunker, he knew this would be the last person he would be able to save.

But he would try, he had too, he couldn't let them die.

He sped through the circular metal door, the number '95' emblazoned on the door, a man in a blue jacket greeted them, "Last one," the man said sharply, yanking the child from him by the arm.

"I'm going to try for one more," Flash said hopefully.

The man shook his head, "No, we're closing the doors, no one comes in. '101' is still open, you can try there."

Flash nodded, and sped off back into the once-busy city, towards the hall, he could still save one more person, he had let too many people die to let anyone else go needlessly.

He heard an odd 'umph' noise, and craned his neck upwards, he saw it, the missile, heading right towards the centre of the city, his city, his home.

He stopped, he knew he couldn't run from this, he watched the sky burn bright and felt the air grow hot around him.

He stopped and watched the world begin to burn.

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