Disclaimer: I do not own any characters associated with DC Comics.
A/N: This is actually an epilogue of an epilogue from my story Heart's Legacy but it's been floating in my mind for long enough that I really should get it out and it's kinda random Speedster nonsense so I put it in here.
Nick Allen – The Seventh Flash
The Gaze of The Past
After getting the basic tour of the Watchtower, I managed to speed away from the welcome party, still not used to joining the fun with everyone else. I found myself in the bowels of the Watchtower in a long hallway lined with rooms. Each room was filled with statues and mementos of heroes past. Walking slowly down the hallway, I came across a few rooms with symbols over the doors.
Wonder Woman, Green Lantern, Martian Manhunter, Green Arrow, Superman. This must be where their legacies are remembered by the- I froze when I saw the symbol on my own chest above a closed door. Walking up to the symbol, the door obediently slid open for me and I took one step inside.
Six Flashes gazed blankly at me, some standing, some kneeling on one knee, but all in shiny stone. The stone the Flashes were carved in accurately reflected the colors each Flash wore. From my peripheral vision, I could see all sorts of memorabilia around the statues that the Flash Museum's curator would have given both his arms and legs to have in Central City.
But I suddenly felt as if I couldn't move from the weight of their gazes. My boots were suddenly too heavy for me to lift off the floor.
I didn't know why, but standing there, in the presence of the past Flashes, I felt inadequate.
Foolish.
Childish.
I was a child wearing boots far too big for me. I wasn't worthy to wear the cowl I had on.
Reaching up, I started pulling off my cowl when a hand grabbed my wrist, stopping me.
"I know how hard you've worked for this, young man. Your Uncle told all of the League time and again how much you've trained for it." Andrew's grandfather smiled at me before looking at the Flash statues. "You don't realize how proud they would be of you following in their footsteps."
"It doesn't feel like that to me, Superman. What have I got to offer the Flash Legacy? I could never be as great as they were. It was foolish of me to even try." The elder Superman smiled gently at me as he put a very heavy arm around my shoulders, leading me further into the room.
"Did you know that certain stories are passed down only through the Justice League and not told to anyone on the outside?" I shook my head as he led me to the middle of the room. "Oh, yes. Whenever a new generation of heroes joins the League, the stories are told to them by the elder members. You only know the ones passed down through the hero community; what you don't know is that every Speedster who has passed through these halls had the exact same thoughts you are having right now." I cocked an eyebrow at him.
"Uh-huh...sure they have." He spun me around and made me face the door.
"It's true. Stand there for a moment." He flew over to the entrance and turned around, looking at me as I unconsciously stood in a classic Speedster pose. "Yep. You definitely belong among them. Did you know that the fourth Flash was the one who decided to make the statues look at the entrance?" Shaking my head, I looked up at the statue of Bart Allen.
"Why would he do that? It makes me uncomfortable and felt like they were judging me when I came in." Superman chuckled as he floated back to me.
"That's not it at all. Bart Allen, at least what my own grandfather told me, wanted to remind everyone who came in here that the Flashes would always be watching over them. Every Flash loved the League and was deeply loved in return. Deeply missed. Deeply mourned. When the first, second, and third Flashes died in one crisis, the fourth Flash wanted to feel like they were still watching over him and the League; so he designed the three statues to be looking to the door of the room. He used to stand just inside the door for hours just looking up at them. When he died, the League decided to continue the tradition for this room. Speedsters are essential to all of us."
I hesitated for a moment, but then walked over to the door again, stopping and turning around to look into the eyes of the past Flashes once again. The feeling of inadequacy still didn't leave my mind, but I could see what the fourth Flash was trying to see. Those gazes I thought were blank before seemed to change as I looked at them. Whoever had been the stonemasons of the statues took great care to put life into the stone eyes of each Flash. It was like standing in front of six people I trusted who waited patiently for me to ask them something.
"I…I guess I can see how good of a Flash I can try to be." That heavy arm went over my shoulders again.
"I can already tell you're going to be an amazing hero. By what my grandson and your friends have told me, I know you will be standing next to your predecessors in no time. Perhaps you'll even surpass them all." I took one more look at the statues and could swear they were looking down at me with pride. "Come on now, let's get back to your party. I'm sure you're already being missed by the other Leaguers."
I wanted to show that the League still has their own museum of heroes past on the Watchtower and that they still recognize the awesomeness that Speedsters embody. I also wanted to do a little more Nick Allen cause I miss writing him.
