Kiddos, fellas, gals, ladies and gents! Boy howdy, hot dog. I'm a crazy person.

Well… welcome. I'm Satellites on Parade, and this is my Young Justice AU, Auld Acquaintance. No relation to the season one finale of the series itself, which I did not know about until now! This similarity was unintentional but will probably look really cool in retrospect!

So… I want to start this chapter off – this story off – with a few words. I love the 1940s. I love everything about them. I find them to be turbulent and fascinating and bewitching and something that I can hold close to me and understand. I love the people of the 1940s. I love the music. I love the speeches, the poems, the zeitgeist. Although I honestly couldn't care less about America, I love the patriotism of the 1940s, the sheer, immensely shared belief that victory was attainable at all times if only we worked hard and worked together.

I also love Young Justice. I love the characters, the stories, the feel of it, the plot. And I decided, after an impulsive Livestream last weekend in which I for fun doodled little miss M'gann M'orzz in a cloche and saddle shoes, that it might be a great and likely absurd idea to combine these two things that I love. This, and all the plans I have for it, is the result.

I'm not trying to rewrite these characters. I'm not trying to rewrite history. The first several chapters of this story will stay relatively true to the first several episodes of Young Justice, but eventually, this story will branch off on its own. Pearl Harbor will be attacked. Germany will be investigated for recon. Hiroshima and Nagasaki will be bombed, and eventually, the war will end. Kaldur being black will mean something. M'gann being an alien will be something she'll need to hide. Superboy will be a product of mad science, and Wally, well… Wally will be our guide for this first little arc, for the year 1941.

I would really like to make it clear that any views expressed in this story are the views of the time, of the decade, and not at all of myself. I don't think it's weird that Aqualad's African-American, because that's the time we live in now. But they would have cared back then. Blacks didn't even start being looked at until the U.S. became involved in World War II and they all fought in the army and became brothers in arms. Even then, the Civil Rights Movement didn't officially begin until 1955 and went on for thirteen years.

I value history and will try my utmost to make everything about the era in which I've put these characters as accurate and believable as possible. I don't know if I'll ever finish this, but let's see how far I get and how many people actually care enough to ask me to do so.

This is a long author's note and I need to shut up.

A thousand splendid thanks to my betas, missmelon12 and Jncera; and to all my Tumblr friends on the Livestream that night who inspired me to do this.

DISCLAIMER: I claim no ownership to or affiliation with any character/characters associated with Young Justice.


Chapter One:

Fireworks


"Never give in — never, never, never, never, in nothing great or small, large or petty; never give in except to convictions of honour and good sense."

— Winston Churchill (1941)


Wally West liked to think of himself as being something of a hero. A good egg, if you will. A regular pistol. He had three hobbies, two of which were acceptably valorous: good deeds, charity, and skirt chasing. Above all things, he enjoyed making things better for people. He liked making strangers smile, and he especially liked making girls smile. His kindness was about as exemplary as his good looks.

He had always been like that, he supposed – nursing a penchant for benevolence – even before The Accident in 1939, the one that taught him how to run. That newfound ability, that ever-humming presence of adrenaline in the pit of his chest, had only further enabled him to do what he thought was right, even if it meant getting tossed around Happy Harbor from time to time and having to get a new cast put on every other month. It was all worth it. This was a sentiment he would carry with him until he was buried in the ground.

Of course, at the age of fifteen, Wally was not as noble or virtuous as he would grow to be in his later years. He was only rambunctious and tenacious and concerned especially with his own honor. He felt the raw presence of valor in him but did not know how to channel it or how important it was supposed to be. He only really knew that, if there was a fifth grader whose lunch money was being stolen, he needed to get over there and help the poor kid, regardless of black eyes. He only really knew that there was a fight to be had and it was a fight for something good, and that it didn't matter how many times he lost (every time) or how many black eyes he was administered, because he did The Right Thing, and that was all that really mattered.

Wally West was not perfect, despite his own insistence to the contrary.

He and Kaldur and Robin had a good thing going for them, though, albeit an unusual and rather hush-hush thing. Wally constantly hungered to be able to use his abilities on Tommy Jensen whenever he would try to teach him a lesson (whether or not there was one to be learned), and he was sure that his friends wanted the same thing.

He had known Kaldur for far less time than he had known Robin; as of the New Year's Day of 1941 (the one that he would never remember in his later years), his acquaintance with Kaldur had been made for a mere two weeks or so, and honestly, even after he had known the him for many years, Wally never quite understood the Atlantean boy who had come to the surface, all pale gazes and low tones.

Robin was another story entirely. Wally had met Robin just days before The Accident, and it had been through his Uncle Barry. Wally hadn't thought much of it at the time, that his uncle was buddies with the Batman, but it hadn't taken long for the sheer improbability of that association to hit him. It was this realization, along with unbounded admiration for (and, admittedly, jealousy of) the life led by Batman's quick little sidekick, who spent his days saving lives and dignities and actually having the good fortune to be thanked for it, that had prompted him to start rummaging through Uncle Barry's old, off-limits journals.

That was what Wally had been thinking in Barry's basement laboratory the day he recreated the experiment: I want to be just like you.

It hadn't taken long after he was out of the hospital for him to understand that his suspicions of Uncle Barry's activities and cohorts had been altogether correct: he nearly shot through the roof in ecstasy when Uncle Barry told him that he was none other than the Flash, adored hero of Central City (whose autographs Wally did indeed have all over his bedroom wall, right next to the worn theatre poster of Mr. Smith Goes to Washington).

It had taken some getting used to, knowing that his uncle was a superhero, and once he was done getting used to that, he had to try being his sidekick on for size.

Kid Flash's debut was a wild hit all over Central City, despite the fact that the young speedster got his bum handed to him by Captain Cold. The police were nodding in approval, the housewives were giddily speculating that the boy dressed in yellow was the Flash's son, and the girls were swooning straight out of their saddle shoes (he liked that part). It didn't take long for Batman and Robin to swoop into Uncle Barry's apartment (during dinner, no less) and start demanding who this new sidekick was, how he came to be, whether or not he was Ready. It took even less time for Uncle Barry to answer all of his questions with ease, and for Wally and Robin to sneak into the family room and catch a glimpse of President Roosevelt's address at the World's Fair (the first President to ever be on television, Wally explained with gusto). It hadn't felt disconcerting or odd at all, much to his surprise, to sit on the floor and watch television with a boy whose face he could not see and whose name he did not know.

That was when he knew, he supposed. That was when he knew that he and Robin, the Boy Wonder, were going to be thick as thieves. Pals.

The Batman didn't know that, by 1940, Wally was acutely aware of Robin's secret identity, which was, apparently, not to be revealed to anyone under even the most extenuating of circumstances.

Dick Grayson. He had said it over and over to himself after he'd heard it, reminding himself that he knew it now, and it seemed such a grand little name – no lousy double-alliteration or… or Wally West.

Robin seemed to think it was absolutely great that their names both had the same syllabic counts, albeit with different emphases. Dick GRAY-son. WA-lly West. Wally himself never entirely understood the importance of this, but Robin's affinity for all things semantic was known enough to him that he didn't question it.

As the months (and, imperceptibly, years) passed, Kid Flash started making a name for himself, and Wally West grew less bitter about being unable to share that name. He and Robin grew closer, and the Boy Wonder spent frequent weekends at Uncle Barry and Aunt Iris's apartment, discussing with Wally ice hockey and basketball and, good grief, they're going to be showing things in color now? It was nice to have a friend, just one. Wally couldn't help feeling lucky.

Another thing that he really liked about Dick Grayson was that he never questioned the fact that Wally never spent much time with his parents. Wally's parents were not his favourite subject to converse about. This was probably due to the fact that, when the Depression hit, they were forced to leave him in the care of his more financially sturdy aunt and uncle. It could also be explained by the fact that Wally, only six at the time, could hardly remember them (except, in the occasional dream, the sorrowful looks on their faces and the bewildered aching in his stomach as they waved good-bye to him and walked away down the rain-slicked street). He hadn't seen them since, which was something his Uncle Barry never bothered trying to explain or understand.

But Wally wasn't the kind of guy to be held down by angst and self-pity. He was obviously doing fine without his parents, and in retrospect, they had probably tried to keep him, but he was just too big of an eater and too loud of a blabbermouth, even without his powers. They were probably much better off without him, and that didn't bother him at all, because if they were happy somewhere out there, he was happy.

He had heard smatterings of Robin's past, mostly from Robin himself. He didn't know anything entirely concrete, but he could tell by the harsh line his mouth seemed to take on at the mention of absent parents that they had similarly bruised hearts. He never pestered Robin for answers, because maybe he didn't have any, just like everyone else. Aqualad – Kaldur – shared this peculiar sadness with the two of them.

Aqualad had been an unusual addition to the dynamic duo that was Robin and Kid Flash. Kaldur'ahm had been a welcome one to Dick Grayson and Wally West. The Justice League that both Batman and the Flash were a part of had been the sort of unattainable legend that Wally had only dreamt of, a group of immense and wonderful beings who stood at the summit of humanity. They were idols and he was a peon. This was not the mentality that Uncle Barry encouraged him to have, but it didn't matter. That was why, when Aquaman had arrived to help the Flash and Kid Flash fend off a particularly nasty Abra Kadabra one evening and had brought along his cool-headed sidekick, Aqualad, Wally had been all over the place with reverence.

Aqualad, being one year Wally's senior and two year's Dick's, had immediately cemented himself as a surrogate older sibling, with his calm, fair logic and even-temperedness. Wally had thought he was the epitome of what every sidekick should be, and Robin admired his ability to be on the same level of mysteriousness as Batman. They only really occasionally saw the Atlantean, on the off chance that there was a villain that both they and their mentors combined couldn't handle, but when they did, it was a treat.

Wally felt inexplicably more professional when Kaldur was fighting beside him and Robin, like he was part of something larger than just being a sidekick, like he was part of a Team. The three of them were a Team when they worked together, and they didn't need superiors.

Maybe that was what started it.


Washington, D.C.

February 6, 1941 – 2:06 PM EDT

"Today is the day."

Despite the frequency with which he was reciting them, Kid Flash was certain that he would never get sick of those words. The Flash did not share his sentiments.

"Yeah, yeah, Kid. Today's the day," he said wearily as they dashed side-by-side in streaks of red and yellow toward the Hall of Justice. "And not that I'm not all for the new catch phrase, but you're starting to sound like a broken record."

"Sorry, sorry," Kid Flash replied, not sorry at all, heart thrumming ceaselessly in time with his footsteps. "I just…"

"I get it," the Flash assured him, sending him a sideways glance and a lopsided smile. Kid Flash grinned in response and started running a little faster.

The Hall of Justice burst forth over the horizon and the two of them skidded to a halt beside the rest of the gathering: Batman and Robin, Aquaman and Aqualad, Green Arrow and Speedy. Kid Flash and Speedy had only been acquainted for about a year, but in that amount of time, he had come to idolize the eighteen-year-old as an older brother, albeit a rather aloof and grumpy one, and if Kid Flash one day wound up being as indisputably cool as Speedy, well, he wouldn't complain.

"Aw, nuts," Kid Flash whined as the Flash gave him an appraising smirk. "Fastest humans alive and we're the last ones here."

"Your lack of punctuality has been established," Batman said gruffly, shooting a glare at the Flash, who shrugged sheepishly. "Now, then."

He turned to the four sidekicks, who stood at complete attention (though Kid Flash was a bit slow on the uptake, gawking at the building before them for a few good seconds before redirecting his focus).

Batman glowered at him, and he balked.

"This is a very important day for the four of you."

"Darn right it is!" Kid Flash interjected excitedly, and Robin elbowed him in the solar plexus.

"I'd like to welcome you all to the Hall of Justice," Batman continued unimpeded. "Follow me."

He turned fluidly and stalked toward the entrance, and the others followed him readily. Kid Flash sped up to walk in time with Robin, whispering out of the corner of his mouth.

"I have a hard time imagining Batman liking anything."

"Use your imagination," Robin grumbled back.

"This is all rather overwhelming," Aqualad said from behind them, staring charily at the crowd of reporters loitering around the front doors.

"You're overwhelmed. Batman's always underwhelmed. What's the deal with all these prefixes? Why can't anyone ever just be whelmed?"

"Now's not the time to be beating the English language with a stick, Robin," Speedy snapped. "This is serious."

"Don't be such a flat tire, Speedy. Think about this for a second! Have all four of the League's best sidekicks ever been in the same place at once?" Kid Flash cried happily.

"We're not sidekicks," Speedy inserted with ferocity, and Kid Flash blinked, astounded at the hostility of his statement.

"Calm down. It's not a bad thing."

"It is," Speedy insisted bitterly. "And it's about to end."

As they approached the front steps, the reporters all started stampeding toward them, clamoring around in unrelenting droves, hats askew and pens at the ready. Kid Flash squinted sourly against the inexorable lightning storm of camera flashes, and Robin vanished completely, black cloak fluttering as he sneaked past the press and stood waiting by the front doors with a satisfied smirk.

"Batman! Batman! What made you decide to bring the kiddos to the Hall of Justice?"

"Say, fellas, it's Flash Boy! Flash Boy, how did you first become the Flash's sidekick? Freak accident? Stroke of fate?"

"It's Kid Flash." Kid Flash tried to shout over the din, but was drowned out by more questions. He could mentally hear Robin snickering at him.

"Aquaman! Isn't it a bit unorthodox to have a Negro for a sidekick?"

"Speedy! Speedy! Do you plan on going solo now that you're eighteen?"

"Don't look at them or answer them," Batman ordered. "Gentlemen, excuse us. We have more important things to attend to."

"Come on, Kid," the Flash chided him, grabbing him temporarily by the ear and yanking him into a stride. "Pick up the pace."

"But," Kid Flash whined, shooting a baleful glance over his shoulder at the put-out-looking reporters.

"They'll still be here in an hour. They're always there, even before you've decided that you're going to be there. Now come on and quit being a wise guy."

Kid Flash begrudgingly obeyed him, stalking up the entrance steps and stopping beside Robin before Batman pulled open the bronze entrance doors, moving aside to allow the others entrance. Speedy's unbounded eagerness burst forth as he practically shoved his way inside, eyes tight behind his domino mask, and Green Arrow shook his head in his wake.

"Somebody's excited," Kid Flash whispered aside to Robin.

"No kidding."

The boys turned to look to Aqualad as if for confirmation, but the Atlantean did not honor their stares with reception, instead gazing resolutely ahead as he walked in time with Aquaman.

Needless to say, the inside of the Hall of Justice was nothing short of majestic. Larger-than-life bronze statues of the League's finest members stretched toward the ceiling – the Martian Manhunter, Superman, Green Arrow, Wonder Woman, the Flash, Batman, Aquaman, all in a row (the Man of Steel being, of course, front and center, wholesome American superhero that he was). Robin's eyes visibly widened at the sight.

After making their way past the flocks of tourists, they reached a metal door with a combination knob on it, which Batman quickly fiddled with and opened.

The Martian Manhunter, tall and eerie but unusually tranquil, stepped forward, with the robot Red Tornado behind him. Kid Flash eyed Red Tornado warily, taking an involuntary step back. The idea of artificial beings still gave him goosebumps from time to time.

"Aqualad," the Martian Manhunter murmured, his voice deeper than any ocean. His eyes swiveled to each of the boys in turn. "Speedy. Robin. Kid Flash."

He seemed to examine them as though they were far-off stars before quirking a peculiar smile, nodding slowly with approval.

"Welcome."

As he turned to lead the way beyond the doors, Kid Flash shot a triumphant grin at Robin. It was reciprocated tenfold.

"You may now freely access the gymnasium, the kitchens, the infirmary, and the library," the Manhunter continued, leading the group into a wide room whose floor-to-ceiling shelves were filled with books. Kid Flash felt a wave of sudden boredom come over him, as was often the case whenever he stepped into a library, or any place that dared to house books of any kind. Robin, quite the opposite, seemed far too gleeful for it to be considered normal.

"This is amazing," Kid Flash marveled, and he meant it.

"It is quite an honor," Aqualad agreed, sending a meaningful look toward Aquaman and the other Leaguers. "We are all humbled by your trust."

Kid Flash turned grinning to Speedy as if for confirmation, but lost the expression at the sight of his friend's extremely dour face and folded arms.

"This is no honor," he thought he heard Speedy mutter. Batman seemed to have caught it as well, pivoting toward Green Arrow's sidekick with a warning look behind his cowl.

"What was that?" he demanded lowly. Speedy unfolded his arms and, in one fluid motion, snatched his hat off of his head and threw it to the ground, which it hit with a resounding thwack.

"This is no honor!" he shouted, and Kid Flash's mouth dropped open; Kaldur's brow deepened; Robin's eyes became protuberant at Speedy's audacity.

"Roy," Green Arrow whispered, but Speedy seemed not to hear him.

"This is a joke," Speedy snarled. His red hair suddenly seemed very befitting, wrathful and unrelenting. "This is nothing but a damn field trip. A special little look behind the scenes. What are we supposed to do with a library, huh? Or – or a goddamn gymnasium? We can find those in any city in the world. What was it you said about us taking the first step? About becoming members of the League in a couple of years? You're all liars."

He whirled to face the three other boys, whose faces all wore visages of utter shock.

"You boys are with me, right? Listen to this nonsense! They take tourists through here, for Pete's sake! Is that all we are to them? People to show around? Kids? Sidekicks?"

The last word was spoken with such unbridled spite that it felt like a stinging slap to the cheek.

"Don't tell me you're going to let them do this. Don't." His expression softened, almost imperceptibly, as he regarded the other three with an unreadable air. "You're all better than this. We're better than this."

"We…" Kid Flash started to croak out, but Aqualad took over for him.

"We are not ready," the Atlantean stated, pinning Speedy down with his steely gaze. "Not yet. That is for the League to decide."

"This is a big step, Speedy. The first step. There are still a few more to go, if you hadn't noticed," Kid Flash offered, unable to keep the jocular sarcasm out of his voice.

"I'd noticed," Speedy spat viciously, and Kid Flash actually flinched.

"Speedy," Robin started to say, but the archer threw up a hand to silence him, his eyebrows smashed together in a fierce glare as he tightened his jaw and closed his eyes.

"Don't call me that." His eyes strayed to the sight of his discarded hat, and a flicker of sentimentality seemed to pass behind his mask.

Green Arrow stepped forward and made to put a hand on Speedy's shoulder, but found his arm being swatted away.

"And don't treat me like I'm… like I need to be comforted." He turned away from his mentor without another word and faced the other boys, looking resolute. "I'm not going to put up with this anymore. I know I'm capable, and you all are, too. Are you with me?"

Kid Flash glanced on either side of him – Robin to his left, Aqualad to his right – and took in their tenacious, almost disappointed frowns. He swallowed, looked Speedy in the eye, and shook his head.

"It's not our place," he heard himself say, and this seemed to disgust Speedy, because he bowed his head and marched, seething, past the three of them, forcing Kid Flash to step aside to let him pass.

"Wait—" Kid Flash started to say.

"No." Speedy cut him off before leaving the room. "Not anymore. I'm not like you. I'm not going to just roll over like I used to. This is my game now."

The metal doors then grinded to a close, and Speedy was gone.

The stifling silence that hung in the aftermath permeated the library for what seemed like hours, and Kid Flash – Wally – felt a consuming sadness, a nuance of self-deprecation, encroach his insides, and he wanted nothing more than to run at super speed after Speedy and tell him that he was in; he was ready; he was—

His rampant thoughts were interrupted by an elbow from Robin driving into his side, and he let out a loud and undignified yelp, spinning around clumsily. Robin was frowning at him, but it was nothing compared to the stern looks he was being stabbed with courtesy of Batman and the Flash.

"Sorry," he mumbled, and the apology, the subordination, felt bitter in the back of his throat.

Batman glanced at Green Arrow, whose moustache was drooping forlornly, and gave him a slight nod. At this, Green Arrow's eyes seemed to soften with gratitude and he quickly exited the library, no doubt going after Speedy.

"Green Arrow will deal with Speedy," Batman said brusquely. "The important thing today is you, no matter how many of you are here."

"Yeah, real important," Kid Flash heard himself spit at full volume. "Speedy's right. This is pointless! Are you just trying to distract us? To entertain us? For the love of—"

"KF," Robin interrupted harshly, and Kid Flash froze. "Stop."

Kid Flash demurred, folding his arms and bowing his head. Batman's scrutinizing gaze swiveled over each of the boys, finally resting on Robin, who was meeting his eye with glittering verve.

The Dark Knight was silent, and seemed to be thinking very deeply about something. He, Aquaman, the Martian Manhunter, and the Flash were all exchanging sidelong glances, shaking heads, quirked shoulders. Kid Flash had heard from Robin about something that the League did called telepathic communication, courtesy of the Martian Manhunter. He involuntarily shivered. The idea of all of his thoughts being picked apart by another party was more than disconcerting.

He started to fidget, and didn't understand how Aqualad and Robin could be standing so still, seeming to be perched precariously on a ledge, waiting to be pushed in either one direction or the other. Kid Flash's foot began thumping impatiently before he even noticed what he was doing.

The sudden appearance of Aquaman's voice startled him into jumping.

"Boys." Aquaman spoke very frankly, his tone regal. "The time has come."

Kid Flash almost opened his mouth to question the Atlantean King further, but Batman interrupted him.

"You've all been making statements as of late about how you think that you're ready to start doing things by yourselves."

"You're not kids anymore," the Flash inserted helpfully.

"We've all agreed that if you feel that strongly about breaking away from your positions as sidekicks, it isn't our place to stop you."

"This is a time of change," the Martian Manhunter continued evenly, almost in a murmur. "Childhood disintegrates more quickly."

"You have all shown yourselves to be moderately capable when operating separately from your mentors," Batman said. He gave a particularly pointed look to Robin, who beamed.

"The League is rife with well-known faces and great presences," Aquaman explained. "It is difficult for us to engage in covert operations."

"What we're trying to say is," the Flash interrupted, stepping forward and putting his arms out in a congratulatory fashion, "You boys are moving up in the ranks. We want you to start your own team."

"One overseen by the League, of course," Batman appended firmly. "A subsidiary. You would follow our orders at all times, and the missions you would accept would be ones offered only by us. You would not do any solo work. You would not stray from League protocol or objectives. And you would absolutely not go off and try anything on your own without first receiving approval from at least three League members."

"This is just an idea, of course, kids," the Flash said hastily. "You shouldn't feel any pressure."

"No," the Martian Manhunter agreed. "This is your decision entirely."

"If you need time to consider it," Batman said, "we can give you—"

Robin abruptly threw up a hand, halting Batman's speech. He was staring pensively at the floor, his expression unreadable.

"Time? Time?" He lifted his head, and now there was a sharp grin on it, somewhere between wicked and humbled. "We've been ready for this since we were born."

He turned to the others and beamed. Kid Flash immediately thought of that word: Team.

He nodded, face splitting into an inexorable smile.

"And how!" he exclaimed, putting his hands on his hips and puffing out his chest, causing the red lightning bolt to gleam like a flag on high. He could have sworn he saw the Flash roll his eyes.

Aqualad did not blink as he faced the League members before them, paying particular attention to Aquaman, whose expression was just as solemn.

"You do not jest with us, my King?" he murmured, and Aquaman shook his head, smiling warmly.

"I would not dream of such a thing."

Kid Flash couldn't contain the grin that was causing his cheeks to tighten and ache as he high-fived Robin and regarded the League with unbridled ardor.

They were a Team. Just like that. A Trio. A Troupe. A Squad, a Gang, a Band of Brothers. The idea darted rampantly through his head, irrepressible and exuberant.

"But I thought," he started to say breathlessly, and he didn't know what he thought, exactly, but it was something different than the information he'd just been given, and he didn't quite understand how to respond to anomalies like it. Flash seemed to take note of his disbelief and walked over to pat his shoulder.

"You thought wrong, Kid."

"As usual," Robin quipped.

"We will do our utmost to be worthy of this honor," Aqualad vowed, bowing his head minutely to Batman and Aquaman in turn. "We will not disappoint you."

"I trust you won't," Batman replied, narrowing his eyes, and Kid Flash knows just as well as the others that it isn't a presumption, but a veiled order.

"There is something we must admit, however," the Martian Manhunter added, stepping forward with his arms behind his back. "This decision was not made entirely arbitrarily."

"Ah," the Flash said, as though he had just remembered something unfortunate. Kid Flash frowned at him quizzically.

"Right," Batman continued, voice curt. "This Team will serve a purpose starting right now."

"A mission?" Robin asked excitedly, but Batman shook his head.

"No," he responded. "An addition."

Before any of the sidekicks – no, they were not sidekicks anymore – could interrogate him further, he cleared his throat and crossed his arms.

"There is a facility," he began, "located in Metropolis. It houses a scientific corporation specializing in genetic research."

"In what?" Robin asked, dumbfounded, and Kid Flash filled in the gap without pause.

"It's not surprising you haven't heard about it, Rob. Genetic research isn't a very big field. You've probably heard of Barbara McClintock, though, right? Chromosomes?"

Robin blinked, contemplating this, before nodding hesitantly.

"Yeah."

"Well," Kid Flash explained feverishly, gesticulating with gusto, "lately scientists have been looking at alleles and genotypes and trying to figure out how they define physical traits, and if research keeps up, we might be able to find ways to cure diseases that are passed down genetically, and—"

"This corporation goes by the name of Project Cadmus," Batman interrupted warningly, and Wally eschewed immediately, straightening. "We raided their headquarters three days ago after being drawn there by a seemingly innocuous fire."

"It uncovered much," the Martian Manhunter muttered.

"The workers all escaped – the head scientist, the director, all of them. We managed to salvage something after defeating the… security force that they left behind."

"Something?" the Flash interjected, frowning at Batman. The Dark Knight's mouth thinned.

"Someone."

Kid Flash's brain was flipping over and over in his head as though it could turn up something mildly useful in the wake of all of this indiscernible prattling. Robin seemed to be using the same tactic, and Aqualad, naturally, looked exactly the same as he always did: passive.

None of them even had the energy to conjure up a question before a large metal door behind Batman slid open with a resounding buzz, and, hardly surprised by the harsh sound, Batman moved aside.

From the gap created by the open door, a boy emerged.

Kid Flash's mouth could have hit the ground and bounced back up and he wouldn't have been the wiser. Robin's white, masked eyes were protuberant. Kaldur stepped backwards as if in disbelief.

"Team," Batman intoned. "Meet Project Kr."

Kid Flash was honestly surprised to hear the name "Project Kr" in the place of the one that had instantly popped into his head at the sight of the boy opposite them: Superman.

"Hello," the boy said, but his face betrayed no inkling of anything close to happiness.

Kid Flash couldn't help gawking. The boy was tall, well over six feet (taller than Aqualad, even), and bulging arrangements of muscles rippled under his plain white tee-shirt. His crisp-looking jeans (unorthodox though they may have been) did nothing to conceal the raw power pulsing throughout his body, and his two large feet were held by black high-top basketball shoes. His hands, laced with prominent veins, were clenched into fists at his sides, as though he had a permanent fear that he would need to hit something at any time. His short black hair was scruffy, and the uncanny pale blueness of his eyes contrasted it abnormally. His expression was frustrated, confused, angry.

Kid Flash gulped. He looked in turn at Aqualad and Robin, who showed no signs of speaking anytime soon, and decided to be the first to break the ice.

"Hi," he said, stepping forward and extending his hand to the boy. "I'm Kid Flash."

The boy's ignited eyes jerked down to the gloved red hand offered to him, and his jaw went rigid as he clenched it. He stepped back and said nothing, keeping his head low as he focused on a point directly between Kid Flash's feet.

"It's nice to meet you," the redhead tried again, keeping all terseness out of his voice. He pointed behind him. "That's Robin. That's Aqualad."

Robin waved and Aqualad nodded. Project Kr gave them respective dirty, skeptical looks.

"Mmm," he said, shifting back and forth on his feet as he averted eye contact once again.

Batman seemed to assess Project Kr's blatant trepidations before apparently making the decision to ignore them entirely.

"Project Kr is a clone of Superman," he told them without pause, and that lack of a pause part confused Kid Flash, because there was no conceivable chance that the Dark Knight was telling the truth.

"That's impossible," he stated frankly, and Batman's eyes squinted darkly. At this offended reaction, Kid Flash threw his hands in the air in bewilderment. "It's impossible. It hasn't even been done! We don't even understand all the secrets of DNA yet!"

"Project Cadmus did," Batman interrupted. "And they put it to use."

"The result is Project Kr," the Flash explained, pulling at his fingers and making the bones pop.

"Don't call me that," the boy growled very suddenly, very insistently. He finally looked up and met eyes immediately with Batman. "I am not a weapon."

"I never said you were," Batman riposted smoothly, and the boy bristled.

"I want a name," he said. "A real one." He pointed to Robin. "Like his."

"A superhero name?" Kid Flash asked, and grinned. "Those are a breeze."

"A name," the boy reiterated fiercely, as if to prove a point. Kid Flash blinked.

"Well, uh…"

"How about Superboy?" Robin suggested with a weak, hesitant smile. "After—"

"No," the boy started to snarl, but Batman spoke over him with, "That sounds acceptable."

"It's better than 'Project Kr,' right?" Kid Flash suggested helpfully, and Superboy looked him directly in the eye, and it felt like an icepick being driven up into his brain.

"Anything's better than that," Superboy said, and then he turned away from them, not sparing them the slightest glances for the remainder of Batman's lengthy expounding of his origins: how he had been fed knowledge of the Real World by creatures called Genomorphs, created by Cadmus; how Superman still did not know that there was a clone of him; how they – the Team – were instructed to accept the Superboy into their ranks, to assimilate him to the world, to help teach him how to use his abilities.

To anyone else, it may have seemed like a descending blitz of impending responsibility, of things not done by the likes of the young, of duties and explanations and commands. But Kid Flash did not dread a syllable of it, nor did he resent one.

He was Ready, after all. They were all – all four of them – Ready.


"You're okay, Supey," Kid Flash said to Superboy as they all exited the Hall of Justice that night, breathing in the cold scent of the starlight. "You're really okay."

Superboy made no response, nor any indication that he had heard Kid Flash speak, but that didn't stop the speedster.

"Can you believe this, fellas? Can you believe that we're… that the League let us… that next week we're going to be moving into Mount Justice, that we…"

"Something big," Robin murmured imperceptibly, but Kid Flash heard him and nodded, reaching over and clapping Superboy on the back. The boy flinched and glowered at him.

"Yeah," Kid Flash said, distantly, wistfully, as he turned his head up to stare at Orion, glittering beguilingly over his head. "Something big."