DAY 8 – To the Edge of Doom

The year is 2017. Metropolis. Apocalypse.


"Alright everybody, we're leaving!" Perry White projects loudly yet calmly.

His words circle through her ears. Linda can feel, with an aching fear, her mind fade into a sheer consciousness as she witnesses large humanoid aliens fly past the building.

The monsters wreak absolute havoc. Large, disgusting and terrifying, their powers worryingly resemble the powers of the feared and worshiped Justice League.

Apocalypse has arrived.

Again.

Then suddenly, a great and shattering scream explodes into the building, causing everyone to scream and duck as glass shards career over their heads.

"Everyone get underground!" Lois Lane shouts as the employees of the Daily Planet run about in an anarchic frenzy.

Explosions and the rumble of disaster overpower any other sound. "Get the kids out first!" Linda orders, guiding a group of 5th graders from a field trip.

Seriously, worst field trip ever.

She pushes them through the stampede of panicked reporters towards the stairs. But as soon as she sees everyone rush, crowd, push and careen towards the staircase. Linda thinks for a second and quickly opts for the other option and forcibly guides the children to the service elevator hidden at the end of a long hallway and jabs the call button furiously.

Her whole body jolts as she deepens her clutch on the sweaty palm of a crying schoolgirl. Linda bends down to hold her to her own rapidly beating chest.

The elevator dings.

Linda picks up the one schoolgirl and whirls behind to look for her boss, who, thankfully, is running towards them.

The building shakes. The doors open.

She quickly forces the children inside and pushes the "L" button. "Lois, hurry!"

Lois Lane slips into the elevator just as the doors close. The veteran reporter pants from exhaustion and turns to Linda. "Babe, remind me that you are getting paid for this internship once this thing is over."

Linda forces a falsely confident smile. "Been through apocalypses before?"

"I think it's a requirement for being Superman's girlfrie-."

They drop.

As the children scream for their lives while they rise to the top of the elevator, Lois and Linda manage to grab onto them and force them between the decorated roof and their own bodies to prepare for the impact.

Linda prays, more earnestly than she's ever done in her whole life.

And God answers.

The doors rip open and a Green Lantern that Linda didn't recognize surrounds them with an emerald-colored force field and grows it until the elevator splits open and its pieces fall to the ground. As it crashes into the earth without them, Linda releases a labored sigh of relief, still clutching to several schoolgirls.

He gets them to ground level. "I suggest you all go underground. The Justice League is about to destroy the mothership. We can't guarantee what will follow."

He flies off.

Linda peers around the disheveled lobby of the Daily Planet. She sees people lying in and strewn at the entrance of the staircases with people still forcing their way out. The children would have been trampled by the stampede if she had taken them down the stairs.

While relieved that her decision turned out to be the right one, distress and genuine fear for her life and for others filled every pore of her body. She needs to get the children out of here.

Linda is about to run off with Lois and the kids until she hears a distinct "Linda."

She turns around and searches for the owner of the call. "…West?"

"Linda!"

There is a blaze of yellow and Impulse suddenly stands besides her. With his headgear half singed, she easily recognizes him.

"Bart!?"

He breathes laboriously and whispers out to her through clenched teeth and desperation. "Linda…Why weren't you in Gotham?" he coughs.

"I have an internship here…Bart, wha-? You're hurt!" She notices his bleeding abdomen and reaches for it.

"I've been –ugh"

"Bart, don't exert yourself." Linda orders sternly and gently places one hand on his shoulder as the other hovered over his abdomen.

"Don't… worry…" he manages to say. "It'll heal quicker than most."

Linda frowns, then looks up to scan the area. The humanoids seemed to have chosen another location to wreak havoc so she leads him to a piece of a fallen building and has him sit down on a large section of debris. She pulls off her dirtied cardigan up over her head, down, then off her arms. Flipping the sweater inside out, Linda turns it into make-shift gauze and presses it against Bart's abdomen. She turns to see if the kids are kids and watches with slight reassurance as Perry joined Lois in leading the children to the underground Metra stations.

"Linda…"

She turns to him and affectionately strokes his hair, but then lifts the sweater to examine his wound.

"Bart, it's getting worse." She stands abruptly, worry just palpable on her face. "You need help."

He winces, "I don't think you'll be able to find anyone." He breathes heavily as he reaches for her hand.

She holds his hand with a soft grip as she gazes down at him.

"I'm just glad I found you," he smiles weakly. "I was…looking for you."

Then, a great clap of thunder sounds about them.

"As have I," a deep and billowing voice rolls about them.

Linda protectively steps in front of Bart as mist formed and gathered, grounded clouds twisting into each other until distinct figure was born from them.

"Linda Jasmine Kyungah Park," its voice continues, like the sound of trumpets and storms.

She waits until she can see the hooded form of grey and green, bathing in a heavenly yet ominous light, rise from the mist.

She cannot answer.

Her eyes simply burn as the gaze of the Spectre envelops reality. She can hear Bart call out to her but it is in an utter distance.

"Your death in his world instigated this calamity. And now, he calls for you."

"Who?" she finally asks.

At length, the figure responds, "Wallace West."

The Spectre points to a man robed in scarlet who appears in the arena of cloud, kneeling. His face rises and his embittered gaze met hers.

"Linda."

As soon as her name left his lips, in that moment, she feels an all-consuming force immerse every minuscule cell of her body.

She feels a wave, a force, and a passion with a width and breadth far beyond her comprehension and all that she could comprehend was that in one swift moment, one swift decision, she could easily lose herself in that force.

She feels frightened.

And she hates every second of it. At least, she thinks she does. The idea of not being in control, of the possibility that an emotion could make her feel so powerless and yet so whole – unnerved her.

She gasps.

Linda turns to the otherworldly figure and insistently asks, "Why."

He remains silent as other individuals begin to join them in the mist.

Her brows knit together.

"What is this and who are you?" she asks the angel, using all of her will to mask her fear with conjured brashness.

"I am Spectre," the figure responds in soft thunder. "I am the judge. He, the perpetrator. You, the instigator."

"And them?" Linda dares to ask further, sweeping her arm about her to those in the mist beside her.

Two Richard Graysons.

Two Iris Wests.

Two Bartholomew Allens.

And Artemis, alone in the haze.

Linda notes the absence of the recently late Barry Allen. 'Theirs must have died too.'

"They are the players. The witnesses. The factors. This…" Spectre's ghostly voice reverberates in and through her consciousness, "…is his trial."

She is not even sure if it is her consciousness anymore. So she anchors herself to an idea coupled with an emotion: This whole ordeal is beyond me and I am upset.

"Trial for what?" she questions.

"For causing Armageddon on your world."

"How would he cause Armageddon?"

"In his world, you are his lover."

A pang strikes through her.

"You are his beacon. But the Linda Park of his world perished and in an misguided attempt to retrieve her and a misuse of the Force that bestows him his powers, allowed this world to be more vulnerable and probable to the doom it faces now."

Linda glowers as she analyzes all that she's been given and internally cringes at the possible emotions Artemis must endure.

This is far too much drama for her to handle but she has to do something.

"What is my role, then," she mutters, "In his judgment?"

"To stop him before his decision consumes both worlds and to be judged as murderer."

"So this can be stopped?" Linda asks. "He can stop this?"

"But he does not wish it. Especially now that he has seen you."

"But you're the one who brought me to him," Linda asserts.

"No. His desire was far beyond what I could control."

"So you called for me because people failed to control a man in grief?! And you think that I have the caliber to?"

The great ghost answers, "You would be surprised."

Linda's gaze remains painstakingly low. Her lips taut and tense, she descends into thought and solemnity. She looks up, finally, with conviction and a flare of subdued rage in her eyes.

"I promise nothing."

Spectre gestures towards Wallace West – a Wally she doesn't even know truly, signaling her to approach.

She glides towards him, through the fog. She thinks about what to say and, more importantly, how to say it. She suppresses her instinctual desire to grab him by the neck and force her advice, her holier-than-thou wisdom and tenets through his ears and down his throat. But that won't reach his head in actuality – she knows that.

She's relying on the possibility that this Wally is like the one she had come to know so well.

In fact, she's betting the lives of billions on it.

She kneels before him and so very gently calls him a 'Jackass.'


The Wallace West of a different Earth stares at her in shock.

"You put the entire Universe and then some at risk of imploding just because you couldn't get over your version of a happy ending?" she whispers to him as he continues to stare. "Do you really think that – that your Linda – would appreciate that?"

"I never meant for Doomsday. I just thought that anything would be worth it if I could see you again." He pauses. "I can't live without you, Linda."

His eyes plead. But Linda can only sigh; she can see something cloud his gaze.

"She's not me. I'm not her. And you can live without her. You have been."

"But the idea of being with you again made me want to-."

"West!" she insists, sternly but tenderly. "I refuse to quantify human life. And I thought you did too, especially as a super because to you guys, every life is worth saving. But sometimes – no, often, things happen that are inevitable and we have accept that. Except for outright injustices, of course."

He smirks but sadly. The clouds are slowly drifting away, scales slowly peeling.

She finally smiles sadly back, then braces herself with a deep breath and continues. The words roll off her tongue.

"We're not gods. You're not a god. We have limits. On knowledge and power. No matter how 'meta' or 'super' you might be. So we're bound to make bad decisions with bad consequences. Every choice we make will have its repercussions and we become better people by dealing with those repercussions, come what may.

"But I'm not your teacher, West. And in this world, I'm not your lover. You don't have listen to any of this. But is it alright if I think of us as friends, even though you're from your world and I'm from mine?"

"Of course," he whispers earnestly, his eyes still pleading but steadily more clear.

A good sign.

"Friends," she mutters with a controlled force, "Have the right to respectfully confront each other. And that's what I'm doing now. I don't want to condemn you. I don't want to judge you. But honestly, I don't think that grief suits Wally West – no matter which Earth he was born into."

She puts her hand to his cheek and he holds it there. Linda can feel the chill of his flesh against hers. Each of his pores against each of her nerves.

She stares into the sumptuous green softness of the eyes of this stranger, this friend. They are no longer overcast, just simply forlorn.

"But being a wisearce and a hero does," she adds, matter-of-factly. "So," she lowers her hand onto his shoulder. "What do you think you should do?"

Wally West still looks at her. He envelops her with a gaze that screams for reciprocation from her.

She immediately quells the feeling erupting inside of her. She pushes it down and stamps it out without a second thought or a tear.

But she does rise and softly places her lips on his forehead. The only thing she can allow herself to do.

Wally West grabs her free arm as he buries his head into the earth.

"Linda," he quietly sobs.

She can feel herself on the verge of breaking and forces to look up at the darkness of the heavens.

"Go,"


Linda sits on a bus stop bench, a shock blanket over her shoulders. The rest of the bus stop is nonexistent, obviously, like most of the block around it. A distinct filter of dust, grime and sadness occupies the air while rescue teams clear through rubble and assist victims into ambulances.

Linda watches it all. Simply watches.

She watches the gift the other Earth's Wally left for her. At least, she assumes he left it for her. But it doesn't belong to her.

She watches the gift embrace Artemis in the burning tears of reunion. Grayson kneels beside them. An Atlantean individual watches them from a distance, ambivalence exuding from him.

She watches.

"Is this seat taken, Miss?"

Linda looks up and smiles at Bart. His entire torso is wrapped in bandages. Bruises and a large infectious smile cover his face.

She taps the space besides her and he sits down eagerly then rests his weary head on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry."

"Now why on earth would you be sorry?" Linda asks, keeping her voice up in spirits.

"Here, Wally never got the chance to love you," Bart whispers. "He and Art would split up as the Reachwouldriseinpowerandyouwould'vebeencloserfriendsbythen and-,"

"Bart. It's okay," she smiles and reassures him by taking his hand. "Plus, you're talking too fast. I didn't get half of that."

"But-,"

"No one wants to be tied to fate like that, Bart. Your cousin would probably hate that the most. And that's fine," she sighs, "But I do have to ask…"

"Yeah, what!?" Bart responds with quick fervor.

She chuckles at his enthusiasm. "Why look out for me? I'm not related to you, am I?"

A large smile breaks from his lips.

"Well, when you grew old, you take care of a little boy whose parents die when he's eleven years old and you make him happy even while the world suffers around them. So in return, I...promised to protect you. Simple as that."

Linda gazes fondly at him, then enters into contemplation again.

"Someone's gotta tell him," she mutters.

Bart looks confused, "Tell him what?"

She rises without a word, the blanket still draped over her, and leaves Bart on the bench, making a trail straight towards his grandmother.


Iris West-Allen cries without a sound, bewilderment in her brows. Hal Jordan stands besides her, holding her as she tries to understand what just happened.

"Linda, what in the world happened? I saw you and-," Iris murmurs through her shock and surprise when Linda approaches her.

Linda gives her an encouraging hug, then asks for a moment alone. The Green Lantern nods, somewhat suspiciously, and takes a few strides away.

"You were just in Central City a moment ago, yes?" Linda asks Iris, firmly grabbing her arm in comfort and interrogation. "Until you were taken here?"

"Yeah, but,"

"Have you talked to Wally?"

"No, and how did he-?"

"That doesn't matter now, but he's back. He needs to see you," Linda insists, then she turns and shouts for Bart to come over. When he speeds to her, she has him take Iris' hand. "Take her to Wally."

As the two head towards the resurrected hero is surrounded by his friends, all joyful and relieved in the midst of the destruction. She tries to remain unseen as she snakes her way into the crowd and gently reaches for Artemis' hand.

Artemis serves around as if she were being attacked, her eyes wild and expectant. But as soon as she sees Linda, her face softens and instantly embraces her.

"Linda…I-,"

"Art, this changes nothing," Linda murmurs so that West – though he stands yards away, preoccupied with reuniting with his comrades – cannot possibly hear. "What you and Wally had and have was good. Nothing changes."

She makes eye contact with Dick Grayson and beckons him towards her.

When he silently appears beside them, Linda addressees the young heroes in urgent whispers, "Both of you need to forget everything that happened. It's easier that way."

"What the hell?" Artemis nearly shouts back.

"Art," Linda groans, "I'm going to go back to our apartment and see if there's anything salvageable."

"Why are you avoiding the issue?"

"Then! I'm going to take a trip to Sweden."

Artemis glares at her; her eyes accuse Linda of betrayal. Linda avoids her gaze and attempts to solidify her argument when Wally finally sees her.

"Park!" he exclaims, "What are you doing here?"

Sh*t.

Linda sees him make his way to her and she prepares herself.

"Park, I-,"

Linda interrupts him with a stoic gaze and states, "Your uncle's dead."

Everyone stares at her in shock and the earth descends into silence.

"And your parents got divorced."

Wally just blinks. He turns to the ground; turns back to his friends and his aunt; turns to Linda.

And he sinks into the ground.

"How dare you!" Miss Martian screamed at her, flying straight into Linda's face. "He just returned and you tell him-,"

"Better than him believing that everything's just the way it used to be," Linda retorts calmly and attempts to turn and walk away.

But as soon as she takes a step, her mind screeches in pain and she falls to the ground.

"Stand down," a voice, earthy and gritty, startles them and the pain dissipates.

Linda looks up from her headache, straight into the eyes of a menace, dark.

"You're with me," Batman growls.


Linda glowers, but respectfully (if that's possible). She wraps the shock blanket tighter around her, hoping that it would indicate that she was in no condition to be interrogated.

The Dark Knight glowers back.

Probably won't work with him.

"You really have nothing to say?" he questions, his voice like lion eating gravel.

'Throat cancer?' Linda humors herself. She sighs in actuality and says, "I had nothing to do with the West's miraculous reappearance or the disappearance of the alien invasion." She adds a "Sir" for good measure. "I'm just an elitist culture snob from Chicago here for an internship."

"And I'm just capable of pushing you until the last inch of your life if you don't talk."

"Sir, if I wanted to get interrogated, I'd go visit my grandmother. She scares me. However, as much as I do respect you and what you have been doing in Gotham, I do not fear you."

"And why is that?" he snarls back.

"Because I know you use BVLGARI shampoo et gel douche," she ends with a French accent and a victorious smirk on her face. "Honestly, I thought you were more of the custom brand type."


A/N:

Hey, guys! Sorry that it's taking me so long to update. It's been a pretty tough summer. Was the maid of honor for my 20-year-old friend with no other bridesmaids to help me as I tried to remain vigilant against all the family drama and dealing with Bridezilla herself.

Anyways, FEEL THE SAPPINESS. Gah, I'm seriously always so dissatisfied with how my chapters always turn out but hey, what happens happens.

Culture reference is the beginning scene of the chapter which mimics a scene from the recent 'Man of Steel' film which starred Henry Cavill as Superman.

So, does anyone know how our Wally returned?