DISCLAIMERS/NOTES
1. This is a fan fiction based on characters owned by DC Comics. I DO NOT OWN THEM. This is just for fun.
2. As always, I'll point out this was written over a decade ago, when, here in the UK, Season 2 of the JL cartoon had yet to air. So Hawkgirl had not been revealed as a spy, and the massive, every-hero-in-the-DCU roster of Unlimited wasn't a factor. My timeline picks up after the Season 1 finale, "The Savage Time". All my Wayback Wednesday stories are numbered chronologically, if you get stuck.
3. I DO NOT OWN Batman & Robin, the 1997 movie, either. Dialogue from that film is used just for fun
4. There are aspects of these stories that, in hindsight, I would change. However, I have kept them as I originally wrote them for history's sake. Not laziness.
PART 7
Shayera walked slowly to the crater.
It could not be…
Hawkman ran upto her. "Shy, don't! It's too dangerous!"
Shayera brushed him aside. "Shut up, Kator."
She went to the crater, and stared.
There was nothing there. Just as J'onn said. The machine had been disintegrated. Nothing was left but a smoking crater.
Nothing.
She looked down.
There was a small line of fire around the crater, in a circler shape.
Tread marks.
Her eyes watered.
He was gone.
She heard footsteps behind her. "DADDYYYYYYYY!"
Megan ran up to Shayera's side, incredibly fast. Shayera stopped her with her arm. "No…" she whispered. "He's gone."
Megan looked at her, tears running down her face. "No! He can't be! He's still alive… he has to be! Go and get him! You're his friends…"
Shayera sighed. "We can't. He's gone."
Megan buried her head in Shayera's side, crying profusely.
Shayera closed her eyes, and took a deep breath.
The man who loved her was gone.
It was then that she realised how much he meant to her. She never returned his affections… but it did not matter. He still loved her. And in return, she loved him.
He lived his life in torture, she knew that. He was always trying to run away from his feelings. But he never lost them. And at the same time… he was searching for hers. But he never found them.
But she had his… and would cherish them for the rest of her life.
She sniffed as tears ran down her face.
She hoped he found peace at last.
/
Talia watched the screen, paying close attention.
It was a news report from New York. The reporter was standing infront of the city's police station.
"I'm here at the New York Police Department, where the charges against Detective John Jones have been dropped. As revealed by the Justice League, Jones was framed by an army of 'White Martians', who tried to use the commotion caused by the affair to attack the city and began their plan to conquer the world. However, the League defeated them, but not without a cost. Wally West, better known as the Flash, was killed in the altercation, sacrificing himself to save the millions in New York. Earlier on I talked with Detective John Jones."
"I'm pleased that I am no longer wanted for murder, but this is a bittersweet time. I want to thank the Justice League, both for proving my innocence, and saving the city. Along with Keystone, the New York City Police Department will honour the memory of the Flash, and make sure his sacrifice was not in vain by continuing to protect the people of New York."
"The funeral for the Flash will take place at a secret location, attended by close friends and family. There will be a public memorial at a later date, and it is expected that thousands of people will make the trip to Keystone to pay their last respects to a great hero. Back to Bob in the news room."
Talia watched as the screen went blank. She turned and looked at the figure sitting in the chair beside her. He wore regal clothes, and held his hands infront of him.
"What do you make of this occurrence, Talia?" he asked.
Talia rested her head in her hand. "I think it's beneficial to your plans."
The man smiled. "Correct. Now, how do you suggest we capitalise on this situation?"
"I'm sure whatever you think of will succeed," she said.
"You should get some rest, Talia," he said. "I know you have been worried these past few weeks. But don't worry – your Beloved will not come to harm."
"Yes, you promised he would not," Talia said. "But remember – the woman is mine."
The man nodded. "Of course. Now retire to your room."
Talia got to her feet. "Yes."
The man looked at the bodyguard at the door, then back at Talia. "Yes, what?"
Talia sighed. "Yes, father."
She left the room. Soon, her Beloved would be hers. And the woman who stole him would be dead.
She would annihilate all those who had hurt her. She looked forward to finally having her revenge…
/
"We are gathered here today, to pay our last respects to those passed. Wally West is with us no more in body, but will forever be with us, in spirit."
The Justice League stood around the coffin, surrounded by the West family. Linda West was standing at the front, crying into a tissue, Megan leaning against her side. Superman, Diana, Green Lantern, J'onn J'onzz, Green Arrow, Blue Beetle and Black Canary stood still, looking down as the coffin was slowly lowered into the grave.
The coffin was empty. There was no body; nothing to bury. But Linda had insisted on the funeral… she wanted to say goodbye. She watched as the coffin rested gently on the soil, tears pouring down her face.
Walter West, the Flash, was dead. The Earth had lost one of its greatest heroes. Friends, family and colleagues alike had come from all over the country, indeed, the galaxy, to pay their last respects.
Shayera watched from the side, holding Tarran's arm. Kator was standing behind her, holding John Jr. in his arms. Shayera wanted to be closer, but she did not think it was appropriate. His widow was in mourning; she would not want to see the other woman her husband loved.
She did not know if Linda knew, of course. But she would feel too uncomfortable. She was grief-stricken enough. She did not want to make things worse.
Shayera looked a few feet away and saw a man she did not recognise. Well… she did recognise a lot of people there. She had hardly ever met Flash's family. But this man seemed out of place.
He had wild hair, in a style that was years out of date. He wore large round glasses, and had a small moustache. He looked quite well-built, but looked a bit like a sleazeball.
Shayera sighed. Flash must have known him somehow. She looked away from him, and saw someone else a few feet away.
She blinked.
It was him.
The rest of the service passed by quickly. The coffin was released, Linda threw a hankerchief on the wooden top, Megan threw a sealed envelope with "Daddy" written on it next to it. The grave was filled up.
And he was gone.
Twenty minutes later, the Justice League stood in a group. They all looked sad. They were silent, unsure of what to say to eachother. Diana had tears tricking down her face, and the sleazeball approached her. Shayera frowned, but the sleazeball looked at her, and withdrew.
"Why did he do it?" Superman eventually said.
Shayera sighed. "I think… he wanted to."
Everyone looked at her.
"I just… know," she said quietly.
Lantern held his head. "I can't believe he's gone. He really made me feel welcome when I came back to Earth. He was the greatest."
"He always made us feel welcome, feel good about ourselves," Beetle said. "Remember when I joined the team? He spent a week showing me around, answering all my questions. And we did the greatest prank…"
"I know," Arrow said. "I still can't get the stains out."
Everyone laughed softly, but Shayera looked at the sleazeball. She did not like the way he hovered around them. "Excuse me," she said. "Who are you?"
The sleazeball went upto her. "Malone's the name. Matches Malone. I was a friend of the Flashter. We went bowling in college."
"Well, with all due respect, this is a private conversation," Shayera said. "We don't know you."
Malone looked at Superman and Diana. The Man of Steel looked at him, and sighed. Diana looked pained, tears still running down her face.
Malone looked at Shayera, and slowly removed his glasses. His smile fell, and his tone dropped. "You do know me, Shayera."
Shayera's eyes widened. She immediately recognised the voice.
Malone put his hand on Diana's shoulder, and Diana smiled softly.
Shayera looked at them. "Oh." She then looked away, and saw a figure in the distance. "Will you excuse me for a moment?" She then slowly walked away from the group.
She approached the figure, who was wearing a black coat and glasses. She had not seen him for years, but he had not aged a day. "Hello, John," she said.
John Stewart remained unfazed. "Hello, Shayera. How… are you?"
Shayera sighed. "I've been better. You?"
"Busy," he said. "The Guardians have had me all over the place." His face softened. "How… are the kids?"
"They're good," she said. "Why don't you go see them?"
John looked at the group a few metres away. He saw Kator, holding his son in his arms, and his daughter by the hand. He looked back at Shayera, and stared at her stomach. "It's OK," he said. "You look busy. I can see them next time I have them."
Shayera looked down. "OK…"
John turned his head at the gravesite. "I heard about what happened. I'm sorry. He was a fine man."
Shayera followed his gaze, her eyes watering. "The best."
"If you'll excuse me," he said. He turned back to her. "It's… good to see you again." With that, he turned away and walked to the gravesite. He stood infront of the grave, staring at the tombstone.
Shayera sighed. He never got on with Flash, but he still came. She knew it was not easy for him… they had hardly spoken since the divorce, and except for picking up the kids, he rarely visited. But still… he came.
"Shayera, honey, it's time to go."
She turned around and saw Kator and the children looking at her. Everyone was going back to the Watchtower.
She turned away, and took one last look at John. She then turned around, and slowly walked back to her family…
/
Bruce went up the staircase slowly. His heart was heavy. It had been a hard time. Flash's death had hit them all hard. It would be some time before normalcy would resume. If it ever did.
It was a difficult. And it was about to get even harder.
He reached the top of the balcony and saw Diana standing by a door. Her arms were wrapped around her self, and her face was red from crying. He went upto her and sighed, stopping inches away from her. He raised his arms and stroked her arms. "How is he?"
Diana was silent, and let out a sob. "The kids have said goodnight. He wanted to talk to me for a bit… Bruce… I think…"
Bruce sighed. "I know."
Tears poured down her face. "There's nothing we can do, is there?"
Bruce looked down. "No."
Diana looked at him. "He wants to see you."
Bruce looked at the door. "OK. Go to bed. I'll be there soon."
"Bruce…"
"Please," he said. "Try and get some sleep."
She looked at him sadly, then kissed him gently on the lips. She then slipped out of his soft embrace, and walked down the corridor. She took one last look at him, and he nodded that it was OK. She then turned around and went to their bedroom.
Bruce looked at the door. He delicately put his hand to the handle, and turned it.
He opened the door, and looked inside.
It was dark in the room, the only light a single bedside lamp.
Bruce went into the room, closing the door behind him. He looked at the man in the bed.
Alfred slowly turned his head and looked at him. He smiled weakly. "Hello, Master Bruce…" he whispered.
Bruce went upto the bed, and sat on the side. He was silent, and stared at the man who had been like a father to him for forty years…
"I spend my whole life trying to beat back death…" he said softly. "All the things I can do… and I can't save you."
Alfred took a deep breath. "There's no defeat… in death… Master Bruce…"
Bruce cleared his throat. Despite all his training… he was finding it hard to compose himself. "You've taught me everything worth knowing…" he said. "You've been my lifeline…"
"And you've been mine…" Alfred whispered.
"I'm sorry…" Bruce said. "For everything. I've taken you for granted all these years… I never stopped to realise just how… much you mean to me…"
Alfred smiled. "Do not grieve, Master Bruce… I've led a long, happy life. It's my time…"
"I…" Bruce did not know what to say. He was always terrible at this sort of thing. "Alfred… have you ever… regretted… your life here?"
Alfred shook his head slowly. "You can't go through your life regretting… or your life would not have been worth living… and mine has… for… I have the honour… of calling you 'son'…"
Bruce closed his eyes. This was one of the hardest things he ever had to do… but he had to do it. He lived his life in constant danger… never knowing if he would come home. Now that he had the chance… he was going to say goodbye.
He looked at his mentor. He looked so weak, and his breathing was ragged. His eyes were tired, and his hand rested on his chest as it rose slowly as he breathed.
Bruce took his hand in his, and held it tight. "I love you, Alfred."
Alfred smiled. "And I love you too…"
Bruce leant down, and kissed Alfred on the cheek. He then sat up, and held his lifelong friend's hand to his face.
They stayed in silence.
After a few minutes, Alfred looked at the ceiling. His eyes went blank. "Goodbye… Bruce…"
Bruce held his hand tighter.
He was gone.
Bruce leant down, clutching the lifeless hand to his chest. He rested his head on the still chest, and closed his eyes tight.
The tears flowed freely from his eyes…
THE END
