Author's Note: This chapter contains mentions of abuse in regards to Wally's childhood.
The Meta Protection and Liberation League had a rather pathetic and boring acronym. MPLL. Robin called it the Maple, because that just sounded better than trying to use all those letters all the time. And it was cooler than "the League". It confused first time hearers, but hey, not like he talked to a lot of outsiders about the organization. And when he did, it was as Richard Grayson, and he had to pretend he didn't know what the Maple was, so no nicknames for him.
Robin himself was part of the sneaky, spy quadrant of the Maple called the Belfry. Or he would be. Technically, Bruce Wayne Codename: Batman, said he couldn't until he was eighteen. Pfft. Robin had been training since he was nine! He could handle this.
Or so he thought. Though, to be fair, he hadn't meant to get caught infiltrating a base. It wasn't his fault that they'd been questioning meta agent of Maple, Barry West-Allen Codename: Flash. Robin liked Barry, he was like an uncle to him. Flash didn't blabber about League secrets, and he was working so hard to keep quiet under threat to his well being. So maybe he used his freaky good skills with tech to cause a scene and bust Flash out.
That in and of itself was probably why Batman never told him if one of their own got captured in the field. Unfortunately, Robin had gotten captured and was mistaken for a meta with technopathic powers. Ha, he wished! Nah, Robin didn't have a metagene. Batman had checked.
So now, here he was, in the Center itself. Ah, the fools. Had they known he was training to be a Maple agent, they probably would never have brought him here. But here he was! Watching pandemonium erupt in the night vision security cameras as the meta kids realized just what the lights being out meant for them. Batman would be so pissed off!
A woman burst through the door, her eyes bright with malice, and vines curling around her like snakes. She wasn't an inmate- too old. And besides, she was decked out in the same body armor as the other guards. Robin tensed.
"You're a meta," Robin said, confused.
"And you're done for!" The woman snarled, and vines shot out at him. Robin jumped into the air, landing on a vine now rooted in the wall like it was a tightrope.
"I didn't know Luthor was hiring metas," Robin quipped.
"I didn't know the League was hiring children," the woman snarled, punching him with her left fist.
Robin scowled and blocked her hit. "I am not a child. Why are you working for a man who wants you imprisoned?"
"Our President understands the uses hiring reformed metas can bring. For example, guarding this facility in case something like you comes along!" The woman snarled, and as she kicked at Robin, he dodged out of the way, catching a glimpse of her nametag. Isley.
Pamela Isley. Not too much of a worrisome criminal history- breaking and entering, multiple counts. Vandalism, multiple counts. Manslaughter, one count. Prison therapist has confirmed guilty conscious and a strong wish to make up for her mistakes. Or just mistake, singular. She probably wasn't aiming to seriously harm him.
"Ouch, didn't know you could be so poisonous, Isley!" Robin snarked as he aimed a punch at her gut. Ha! Poison ivy. What a corny nickname. He should totally use it. "Hey, why'd they let you out of jail so early? Heard you got twenty years for that stunt you pulled."
"Luthor gave me a chance to make amends," Pamela snapped, and her hand closed around Robin's wrist, giving her the advantage she needed to pin him to the ground with his arm twisted up between his shoulder blades. For a moment, she simply placed her weight on the small of his back with her knee, contemplating something. "He could help you see the Light, too, if you wish."
Wow. No thank you, creepy lady. Okay, he could get out of this pin. It'd hurt, but he could do it. "I think I'm good, Poison Ivy."
With a heavy grunt and a rapid twist, Robin pulled out of Pamela's grip and spun out of her reach. His arm howled in pain, his wrist likely sprained, and his shoulder probably dislocated. With his good arm, he threw a nearby wrench at Pamela, and she stumbled back. Then, Robin shut the door and hefted his weight against it. He heard an angry shriek, and the woman outside slammed her vines against the door, the metal jostling his injured arm. "Fuck."
After a moment, he heard Pamela calling for backup. Okay. Okay, he could do this. He just had to- had to relocate his shoulder. He heard Pamela run off down the hall, clearly frustrated that whatever call for reinforcements she must have made went unanswered. Okay. Okay, he was going to do this.
Ow! "Aurgh, shit!"
As ten other metas in this hallway were storming back out to the yard, Roy realized something. Just before Wally could jet off anywhere else, Roy grabbed his arm. "The yard isn't going to work."
"What?" Wally demanded, incredulously.
"The yard. The others are headed towards a pen, they'll never make it," Roy explained.
"But that's outside," Wally protested, and his whole body vibrated a little at the idea.
"With a fence. No exit. And a whole lot of guards," Another voice spoke up, calm and soft spoken. Roy turned to see the boy with the glowing tattoos had not run after the others towards the yard. "What is your plan, then?"
"When they first bring someone here, it's always by car. They walk us through a garage, remember?" Roy explained. "So we take a car."
"I'm fifteen, I can't drive. Can you drive, Kaldur? I don't think he can drive either," Wally babbled.
The stranger's lips quirked. "I'm sure your friend would not have suggested it if he could not drive, Wally."
"Right," Wally grinned sheepishly.
"The point is, if you've got family you wanna see, kid, I can get you out of here," Roy stated. Both Wally and the stranger, Kaldur, looked at him with wide eyes, like they had not considered being able to see their families.
"Fuck, yeah. Yeah, I wanna see Aunt I! She's probably worried sick," Wally frowned. "We kinda disappeared on her."
Kaldur looked at the wall distractedly. "I do wish I hadn't left Tula without a farewell. I wonder how she has fared."
"So who remembers the way to the garage?" Wally asked.
Neither Roy nor Kaldur answered him, both just beginning the walk through the twisting halls of the Center. Wally nodded, "Okay. Both of you, then."
He jogged to catch up, and was in stride with them before they could blink.
Wally West was born and raised in the perfect nuclear family. But his dad lost his job when he was five, and their situation tanked. Rudolph West got angry- after all it wasn't his fault he got fired -then got wasted and gambled away all his money, then lost his nice and comfortable home- so it had to be everyone else's.
First it was Mary's, for being a terrible wife. And for awhile, Mary took the verbal thrashings, because she was sure she deserved it. After all, her mother had told her she would regret marrying this man, and here she was, regretting it after scorning the woman who warned her. But finally, one thanksgiving, Mary West had had enough of the man, and she left him with only a note left on the refrigerator to explain her absence.
So Rudolph blamed the only person left in the house. And for Wally, it wasn't just harsh words and angry shouts. Sometimes he'd go to bed bruised and scratched up. A few times, he'd gone to the hospital with a story that he'd fallen off his bike, or down the stairs, or out of a tree. It isn't something he liked to think about.
Then Iris came over for the next thanksgiving, wanting to get closer to her brother after the unfortunate circumstances of the previous year- after all, Mary had left the note in place of a turkey. Wally immediately loved his aunt. Iris was everything his father wasn't, and it showed in the way she brushed his hair back ever so gently, the way she respectfully bent down to his level to meet his gaze, the way she didn't press him to look her in the eye if he didn't want.
It was a few years before Iris discovered Wally's abuse. She was introducing Rudolph and Wally to her husband and son when Barry -god, Wally already loved Barry, he was so damn nice- pulled her aside and began whispering to her urgently. Wally was too busy taking care of his toddling cousin to pay attention. Bart was five years younger than Wally, and the older boy felt a bit protective.
Within a matter of very frightening, very worrisome weeks, Wally was living with his Aunt Iris and Uncle Barry, as their kid. Their legal, actual kid. Kind of.
It was a lightning storm that did what it did to the West-Allen boys. Barry was taking care of them while Iris was out at work, but he needed to do things in his lab. Unfortunately, lightning struck while Barry was pulling the boys apart during a surprisingly physical altercation, and all three of them wound up doused in chemicals. Wally was twelve when the storm struck. Bart was still barely six.
Wally was thirteen when the Center finally caught them. He didn't see if Barry and Bart got away, but he hoped to whatever higher power that whatever happened to them, Iris could keep on going.
Wally had been in the Center for almost three years. Soon he'd be sixteen. He hated the Center so much, but he kept track of the days as well as anyone could. He celebrated every holiday with a single hope: that Iris could be happy that day.
He couldn't believe his ears when Roy said he'd help him get to her. He was overjoyed. He was practically vibrating with excitement as Roy blasted his way through the garage doors, just in time before the red lights managed to flicker back on.
The intercoms buzzed and a man's voice came over the mic. "Power restored to lights and restraints, all units apprehend detainees immediately."
"Shit, get to a car," Roy said, quickly, making a break for the nearest vehicle.
"Are we gonna make it!?" Wally panicked, breaking into a severely slow (normal, he supposed, god he can't believe he used to live like this) run at Kaldur's side.
"Save your breath," Kaldur huffed.
The intercom buzzed once again, and the three boys heard the man announce, "All available personnel to the garage immediately, League agent attempting an escape!"
"What the fuck is a League agent?" Roy demanded, head whipping to the garage's only entrance from the facility. Just as he asked the question, a thirteen year old boy skidded to a stop at the doorway, locking eyes on them immediately. His skin was bronze brown, his hair dark and slightly wavy, and his eyes a startling sapphire shade of blue. His arm was tied up in a makeshift sling from what looked like medbay sheets.
Then the kid smirked, and ran at them. "Gimme a lift!"
"Depends on where you're headed," Roy said, sliding his sleeve over his fist and preparing to smash open the window. Kaldur pulled Wally away from the window as Roy slammed his fist into the glass.
"Literally anywhere that isn't here," the kid said.
"Star, then," Roy decided, reaching into the car and unlocking the door. "Get in."
The kid immediately slid into the front passenger seat, leaving Kaldur and Wally to climb into the middle seats from the front. Roy frowned. "We still need to start the car."
"I gotcha!" The kid exclaimed, and he shoved the passenger side door open before running off. The lights overhead flickered a little from red to white before remaining red.
"I am anxious to return to the outside world," Kaldur announced. Roy grunted, as he bent down, trying to hotwire the car even while lacking proper tools.
"I miss being normal," Wally sighed, slouching in his seat.
Then the kid, their new ally, emerged from an office room in the corner with four key lanyards and what looked like some kind of utility belt. He ran back over and slid into his seat. "Try one of these."
Roy grumbled, but did as the boy instructed. On the third key, the car started up with a low rumble. Wally felt relief flood him as Roy began to peel out of the garage. And just at that moment, guards decked in full body armor entered the garage from the Center.
Wally watched through the rear windshield as a guard ran into the office room. He looked forward, only to see the garage door closing slowly. "They're trying to pin us in!"
"Step on it, step on it!" The kid in the front shouted, and Roy grinned.
"Will do, Squirt," Roy said, and slammed his foot on the accelerator.
The kid smirked. "The name's Robin, not Squirt."