So it Begins

Monday, September 21st, 18:10

Elevator doors hissed open on the medical level of MetroTower. A concerned Wayne strode just short of breaking into a jog, quickly leveling off with Diana. The two soon reached Stewart and Shayera who stared concerned through the glass wall of the infirmary. Wayne looked in, finding Wally bedridden and buried in ice packs. The speedster's mumbling was muted by the distance and thick glass, glazed eyes distant.

"How is he?" Diana held onto her forearms.

"Hundred twenty-five." Stewart huffed uneasily. "Seven points higher than even his normal temperature."

Bruce clenched his teeth. His brain is going to melt.

"T's done everything to cool him but it's just getting worse." Stewart's voice rose in volume with the growing frustration of uselessness.

"Cold response." Wayne muttered in a whisper and barged inside frowning before they could question the statement's meaning. "Where's the hypothermia kit?"

"Last door down, second from the right." Terrific pointed at a huge closet, confusion obvious in his features. "What do you need that for?"

Ignoring the question, Wayne took out a large cardboard box, 'internal heating' scribbled in bold handwriting on its top. He removed the casing off a strange looking device; a kind of heater with gold-wrapped tubes attached.

"What are you doing?"

"Reversing the heat pump." Wayne unscrewed the heating coils, and hauled the open device over.

Terrific's expression turned into one of realization. "Cool him from the inside." He cleaned a thigh vein, than cautiously led a gold-wrapped tube into a freshly made canula.

Almost immediately the temperature dropped by point one degree, than another, and another. The two exchanged easy nods, prompting relieved sighs from the growing audience. On the way out, Wayne near startled at a beep of a printer.

"That should be his blood works." Terrific chimed from across the room.

Wayne read the chart before grabbing a couple of older reports from the lab table. He looked the papers over, shuffling back and forth between them. "Quarantine him. His white blood aren't just low, they're dropping - fast."

Locking eyes with Stewart, Terriffic gestured the founder in. "Help us move him to the Clean Room."

A nod later, Stewart engulfed Wally; bed, cooler and all; in green light. Terrific guided him along as the crowd parted out of their way. Wayne joined an impressed Diana at the front of the observers.

"I operated on the machine, not Flash." He replied to her eyeing.

Clark pushed through the crowd. "He ok?"

"Been better."

The speaker system beeped its broadcast warning. "Leaguers with meta strength report to transport level for immediate dispatch." Jonn spoke loud and clear.

Reflexively, Clark looked up at the source of the sound. "What's going on?"

"Several minor quakes struck along the Nepal-India border."

"Define minor."

"Initial quake was 5.6, mildest aftershock 4.9."

"Faulty execution?" Diana guessed, her theory leaving an uninformed Jonn confused.

"Let's hope so." He replied stoically. "Make a stop at Kasnia. Tell Audrey we need all available phage samples and notes on their replication. Immediately."

"What are those?" She was curious.

"Bacteria-killing viruses. Harmless to humans."

Clark crossed his arms. "I thought Flash had a viral infection."

"By the time the phages arrive he'll have bacterial too."

A serious nod later, the two metas flew off, Terrific walking up to Wayne not a moment after. "Have to arrange teams." His expression an unspoken request.

"I'll do the tests." The dark knight replied, heading for the buffer section of the clean room. Putting on a minimal containment suit he watched Wally's unconscious form. "Let's see what's bugging your finest, kid."

Tuesday, September 22nd, 00:05

The speedster laid withered, all kinds of tubes and wires sticking in and out of him. Behind the glass wall separating the patient and observer sides, an unmasked Wayne sat behind his laptop, studying Q's reports on Ra's and forwarding them to Horvat. A light rap drew his attention form the screen. Swiveling around in the chair, he caught sight of a tired Stewart. Pressurized doors hissed open upon his approach.

"That bad, ha." He commented on the other man's appearance.

Stewart snickered weakly. "Not really. Lots of wreckage and injuries but less fatalities than expected."

"Came to check up on Flash?"

"I caught something on the mission." Stewart rubbed his abs tenderly while following the bat into a neighboring room. "The quake made a cesspool out of that place. What's the news on the quakes anyway?" He hopped on the exam bed.

"Stronger and more frequent by the hour." Wayne shot his hopes, going through the motions of a routine checkup. "Latest one struck home. 6.3 in California."

"Damn…" Stewart muttered, than winced as the Bat poked his belly.

"Stomach flu." The dark knight diagnosed. "I suggest you call it a day."

"I suggest you do the same." Lantern reminded that none of them would be sleeping soon. "How is the kid." He glanced in the direction of Wally's current bedroom.

"Same." Wayne sighed. "We've ruled out everything that could have killed his immunity. According to the tests, Wally's supposed to be healthy." He grated.

"Supposed to be... What do we do with the quakes, were running out of people."

"So far the stronger ones strike the developed rather than developing nations - probably to compensate for building safety codes. Since they're getting worse, it would be best if you, Superman and Skeets leave the current disasters. Screen Mediteranean, Japan, and West Coast North America for the charges that haven yet gone off."

"Will do, Bats." He jumped of the table, stopping by the rest room on his way back to the frontlines.

Alone once more, Batman returned to his vigil. Some half hour later, a rustle of fabric caught his attention. He gladly approached the dazed but conscious speedster.

"Thirsty." Wally whispered in a raspy voice.

Wayne reached for a thermos bottle, pouring a cup of clear maroon liquid, a cloud of steam rose from it as a fruity aroma filled the room. "Sugar with tea." He offered, coaxing a chuckle from the younger leaguer.

The expression faded all too soon, giving way to one of disgust. Wally stared at the cup intently, as if weighing life and death. "Water." His eyes pleaded.

"Nauseous." Wayne stated with certainty and wordlessly obliged, even helping Wally drink.

"Never imagined you for Florence Nightingale." The Flash jested, receiving a glare for his trouble. "Thanks."

Batman ignored the gesture of gratitude, but remained at Wally's side.

…