Chapter Twelve
"Omega…"
"Omega…come in?"
A few moments later a patient but exasperated sigh came across the radio once again. "Omega respond please."
From across the spacious rooftop, Artemis Crock pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration; not as much at the tedium of this mission as with her distracted teammate. She desired her privacy as much, if not more than the next person, but using radios instead of Martian mind links, at a certain speedster request no less, was not only slowing down this pointless shadow job, but wearing on her very last nerve as well.
"Wally!" she hissed as silently as possible.
As soon as he heard his name he jolted, turning towards her position on the north side of the warehouse, a look of annoyance bordering on contempt directed his way as she gestured angrily to her ear and then back to him.
Shit
"Sector five clear," he sighed, frowning as the archer rolled her eyes and resumed her search of the north side of the docks.
"Thank you Omega," Robin replied over the channel with a sarcastic sigh.
The speedster rubbed his tired eyes. It had been a long two weeks. The images of the Louisiana girls still haunted him, and three late nights stuck on this rooftop doing nothing but lookout and reconnaissance had worn him to the bone. It also didn't help that his current partner didn't appreciate being paired with him anymore than he wanted to be up there in the first place.
Wally adjusted his goggles, making a thermal sweep of the abandoned warehouses on the wharf, before lifting them off his tired eyes and taking a short break. He walked over towards the archer across the roof, her eyes keenly focused though the binoculars on the two subjects; just not the ones they were supposed to be searching for.
"Sorry," he sighed.
"Whatever," she replied dismissively, adjusting the lenses and bringing the images of Conner Kent and Megan Morse into clearer view. "Just get back in position and get you head out of your ass ok?"
She was in a mood. He'd seen it a thousand times before; the narrowing of her eyes, the tightening her jaw, the cold distant silence. The smartest thing to do when she was like was to step back and give her her space, but sometimes it's the smartest people who make the dumbest mistakes, but to his defense he knew it wasn't him she was irritated with.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
She frowned, ignoring him and changing the angle, resuming the search of the entrances and alleyways of Gotham Harbor, any darkened corner an alleged drug smuggler might be hiding.
"You might feel better if you got it off your chest."
Her grip tightened on the binoculars, "There's nothing to talk about, get back to your position," she replied with perhaps a little more venom then she intended.
"It bothers you."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
Wally rolled his eyes. Why he was getting involved in this particular issue he had no idea. In another life he had loved her, he probably always would, but even though that life might be gone, no matter what their relationship was now, he still cared about her; he still wanted her to be happy. She deserved that more than most.
"Just talk to Kaldur,"
"About what?" she answered dismissively.
"About why he's not pairing you and Conner together on missions. It's probably just an oversight. Don't read too much into it."
Her teeth clenched. "I'm not reading anything into anything, and for the last time, go…back…to your position."
"I was just trying to give you some friendly advice," he sighed wearily.
"Well don't ok?" she snapped. "We're not friends; we're just teammates. That's it. I don't get into your business so don't get into mine."
Wally was already on edge, and after all they'd been though, after all he'd lost, being told they weren't even friends? That stung…a lot. The more he was around her, the harder it was getting.
It was different back in the day, when their sparring actually had some feelings hiding behind it. He resented her and she resented him for resenting her. She just wanted a chance; he just wanted his friend on the Team.
Team's needed a real archer.
It was a long and treacherous road through arguments and battles, jealously and heartbreak, life and near death, but finally they found each other; the person that wouldn't let the other get away with nothing - their spitfires. They fell in love and made a life together; one they both hoped would be forever, but sometimes there aren't enough days in forever. His had run out on a cold day in June, but standing next to her right now, it felt even colder.
"Fine," he replied, walking off in silence. She could be so damn infuriating. Wherever these idiot smugglers were, they'd better come out soon, because if he had to be stuck up here much longer he was going to lose it.
After what seemed like an eternity, a quiet husky voice broke the silence.
"Ok, it bothers me a little."
Wally's ears perked up. "Excuse me? Did you say something?" he taunted playfully.
"Don't push it West."
He walked back to her, the archer no longer trying to hide her surveilled gaze.
"You know they're just friends right? You've got nothing to worry about."
"Who said I was worried," she replied, trying to mask her dismay.
Wally sighed. "We can play games up here all night if you want to, God knows we have the time, but if it bothers you that much, you need to talk to him."
She shook her head. "And what? Make him think I'm even more batshit crazy than he already does? No thank you."
"Artemis," he paused, scratching the back of his neck. God he hated this. "Look if you like him and you want this to work, you have to be honest with him. You can't freak out over what you think he'll think. It's normal to be insecure about…."
"I'm insecure?" she snapped, her temper beginning to heat up.
"Artemis chill ok? We're all insecure. We're teenagers, we're supposed to be."
"And I suppose you're the exception huh?" she argued, irked by his accusation.
"Hello?" he chuckled, gesturing to himself. "Red hair and freckles, table for one please. Of course I'm insecure. My middle name is Rudolph. Who in the hell names their kid that? I was doomed from the start."
For the first time that night her shoulders eased and she actually smiled, and for a brief second he saw that girl again, the girl he remembered. No matter how brief, it was still nice.
"You are kind of pathetic," she teased.
"Gee thanks."
"Hey, your words not mine….Rudolph." the archer grinned.
"Yeah yeah," he sighed. "So how about instead of making fun of my idiotic middle name, why don't you tell me what's really bothering you."
She took a deep breath, still hesitant to share, but trying none the less.
"We just don't get a lot of time together. Between school and missions there's just not a lot of it to go around, and when there is, he and Megan are usually hanging out. I mean they practically live together; they go to the same school, do homework, eat dinner, and somehow still get paired together on all these missions. It would just be nice if he could…you know…make the effort too sometimes."
Wally considered her words for a moment. Artemis was never the jealous type, not really, but she had valid points. However she was ignoring the biggest, yet smallest one of all."
"You know he's like… barely one right?"
Her brow furrowed into a frown.
"You know what I'm saying. I doubt those creepy little Geomorphs taught him much about dating. Talk to him. Let him know how you feel. Connor's a good dude, a little rough around the edges sometimes but then again so are you."
A faint smile returned as she playfully hit him in the arm. "You're probably only telling me this so you can get a shot at Megan again," the archer chuckled.
Wally waved his hands. "No way" he chuckled, that ship has sailed. I'm warding off girls for a while."
"Hold on!" Artemis interrupted, her head suddenly jerking in all directions. "Did you hear that? It sounded like… every woman on the planet just let out a collective sigh of relief. That is so weird." she said with a grin.
"Very funny," he rolled his eyes. "Last time I try to cheer you up."
"Ok...ok. I'm sorry," she chuckled. "You're right. I should to talk to him."
"Don't let it fester Artemis. Life's too short. You don't want to turn around five years from now and wonder what might have been. Trust me on that."
She looked at him oddly, her grey eyes piercing so deeply it almost hurt. It was all he could not to get lost in them again like so many times before.
"Fate really did a number on you didn't he?" she smirked.
"You have no idea."
Just then. their earpieces began to crackle as a familiar voice came over the channel "Robin to all teams, it's a bust. They're not here. Pack up and rendezvous back at the Bioship in ten."
"Copy that" Artemis replied looking over to the speedster. "I guess that's it."
"Thank God," he groaned.
Artemis walked back to her vantage point, carefully collecting her specialty arrows while breaking down her compound bow, removing the string and pulleys for long-term storage. The weapon was sacred to her, and she took immaculate care of it.
Watching her, Wally wished he felt good about what he'd said, but at least he was honest, a rarity for him lately. He tucked his goggles into his pockets and bent down to pick up his trash when her voice rang out from behind.
"Wally?" Artemis spoke as he turned.
"Yeah?"
An appreciative smile stretched across her lips. "Thanks."
"Don't mention it," he replied, closing his wrist cabinets and walking over to the fire escape, allowing her to go first.
"Really… don't," he sighed to himself.
xxx
Despite its ridiculous sounding name, Happy Harbor was one of the hidden gems of New England. A small seaside community hidden within rolling lush green hills, stretching out into forever before disappearing into warm beaches and tranquil waters. Not nearly as touristy as cities like Providence, Happy Harbor kept its small town appeal and sensibilities. The townsfolk were warm and welcoming, the area enjoyed all four seasons, the local architecture was in keeping with its 18th century charm, and there was never a lack of things to do or see. From sailing and seafood to hiking and surfing, Happy Harbor had it all, especially for one land-locked midwestern kid, more used to flat farmland than wooded hills and endless seas.
Wally loved looking out into the ocean, staring endlessly at its vast lonely landscape. It always left him feeling so small and insignificant while still full of hope and promise, as if a new life was awaiting him on the other side.
Inside the vast caverns of Mt. Justice, the speedster stretched out on the coach, cycling through pages and pages of missions briefings and summaries on his tablet, stopping every few paragraphs for clarity from his agitated and antsy best friend.
"So you guys have no idea where Sphere came from or how it got here?"
"It's alien Wally, if could be from anywhere."
"And what about Psimon? Did he say anything to Megan? Anything that might hint at who he was working for?"
"I was there when Batman debriefed her and she never mentioned anything about it. M'gann was probably too busy, I don't know...trying to stay alive then conduct some mental interrogation."
Wally rolled his eyes, not in the mood for the young detective's sarcasm.
"What about those Biyalan rent- a-cops? You know Psimon didn't hire them? Surely Bats must have found out something right?"
"Their minds were wiped clean. Batman did detailed record checks on all of them. These guys were all decorated soldiers, no criminal ties whatsoever. Psimon covered his tracks well."
"So no suspicions? Nothing?"
Robin sighed. "Wally everything we have is in those reports. If you can't find it, then it doesn't exist."
"Ok fine,' he frowned, scrolling down the tablet, "How about Belle Reve? It says here Mr. Freeze petitioned the court to be held legally sane and Icicle Junior sued the penal system to be tried as an adult. Come on! Really? Who filed the paperwork, who prepared the documents? I mean Freeze is pretty smart, maybe he could have probably figured it out on his own, but Mahkent's kind of moron. He had to have some kind of attorney right? Who was he? Who paid for him?"
Dick let loose a long and frustrated sigh. "Batman and the League are still looking into it, there's just a ton of paperwork to go through. Their on it, trust me, but if you have and doubts go ask him, I'm sure he'd be happy to go into the finer details of his investigation with you, Scooby and Thelma since all of a sudden you've a detective."
Wally shot an annoyed pout at the brunette. "Hilarious."
"Look KF, as proud as I am of you trying to crack the big case, we're kind of on the clock here dude. Everybody's waiting on us."
"By everyone, you mean Zatanna."
"I choose to invoke my Fifth Amendment rights," Dick chuckled. "The sun's going down soon. I can't believe you're actually risking a chance to see Ms. M in a bikini for some non-ordered League homework. Come on, shut that thing off and let's go have some fun."
"You go ahead, I'll catch up."
Dick shrugged. "You're loss. I'll try to save you a couple dogs."
"Appreciate it," Wally replied dismissively, eyes already back to the tablet.
"Whatever," Dick sighed, leaving the common area and heading for the secret mountain exit. He pushed open the heavy stone door looking back one last time, hoping the speedster was hot on his trail. After a few moments he closed it and began the trek done to the dunes to join his friends.
Dick was frustrated. He could usually read his best friend like a book, but not lately, not since he'd come back. Wally was the kind of guy who wore his heart on his sleeve, if anything he was usually guilty of over-sharing. But something had changed, and every effort Dick made to try to bring the old Wally back was met with the same kind of resistance and deflection as tonight.
Maybe the speedster was genuinely worried about his place on the team. He'd been absent for a pretty long time, maybe he felt the need to prove his worth, prove his dedication. Joining the League had always been the goal, and Wally had always been a planner.
Maybe they weren't as close as they once were. Since his return they hadn't hung out as much, the speedster more absent than before, spending more time at home these days then the cave. He wasn't returning calls and texts until the next day instead of thirty minutes or less which had been the norm. A small insecure part inside Dick wondered if maybe Wally had outgrown him. After all he was a few years older, and graduation was on the horizon. Wally hadn't really shared his plans for after high school, but for someone as insanely smart as the speedster, continuing his education was a no brainer, and once again Wally had always been a planner.
Maybe Fate was still haunting him. Kaldur had said it best; Wally used his understanding of science to control what he couldn't understand. How terrifying it must have been to be taken hostage by a force like that, something not only he didn't believe in, but had no one clue how to escape from. In some ways it was like a part of him hadn't come back, still stuck inside the helmet somewhere. Wally had been encouraged several times to go meet with Zatarra, talk to him about his experience. Being the only other magic wielder in the League, Zatarra might have offered a unique perspective others couldn't, but par for the course, the speedster had declined.
Or maybe he was just being paranoid. His best friend had been through something pretty traumatic, something no one had ever been through before outside of Kent Nelson, who unfortunately wasn't available for a sit down anymore. Maybe Wally just needed time to find himself, to get comfortable back in his skin again. Canary would eventually be coming around the mountain for her bi-weekly counseling sessions. Maybe it would be a good time to have a little chat. Dinah was always good at getting to the heart of the matter, and hopefully she could tell him he was acting crazy, or if Wally was.
With Dick gone, Wally rubbed his eyes and went back to work. After dismantling the two androids that had attacked Mt. Justice, the League had soon discovered T.O. Morrow's base under Yellowstone, the inactivated Red Inferno, as well as its comatose elderly creator.
Wally realized now by not following the original timeline, they'd missed out on the chance to interrogate Professor Ivo, which could have been the first big clue to a connection to the Light.
And now with Zatanna down at the beach; laughing, chatting, and bonding with people she wasn't supposed to meet for months, he realized he might have really screwed up.
What other ripples might he have caused? What other paradoxes or anomalies had he created? Scrolling through these reports, he wasn't finding anything near what he'd hoped for, but there had to be more.
There was no mention anywhere in these documents about what the League had discovered in Louisiana, and Wally knew for certain that Batman and Captain Atom had been at the blast site and had interrogated Atomic Skull thoroughly.
The League must have had more detailed reports stored on a database somewhere else, and the chances of Wally getting access to them were slim to none.
His mom always said you can lead a camel to water, but you can't make him drink. How was the he supposed to point the League in the right direction if he didn't know which way they were looking? No matter how successful Bruce's plan might be, Wally knew he needed the League's help. Ultimately he wasn't going to save the world, they were.
He took a step back to look at the bigger picture. Sure he was worried about paradoxes or anomalies, but in reality this whole mission was about nothing but creating anomalies. The goal was to disrupt the Light's plans where he could, and making their existence known to the League. After that it was up to them, it always had been.
The key of course was Bruce. The Batman of any era was infamous for keeping things close to the vest, perhaps that's what the elder Wayne was counting on.
Changing history was a lot like playing chess Bruce had told him. It wasn't just about capturing the king or clearing the board. It was about arranging the pieces. It was about strategy. Knowing your opponent was key, staying one step ahead the challenge. That was Batman in a nutshell.
When playing someone of equal skill, you had to be subtle and inconspicuous yet bold and deliberate, determining their moves before they determined yours. This mission was designed by the ultimate chess master to play against his greatest adversary. Created by Batman for Batman.
Wally no longer had access to all those intricate maneuvers, meticulously crafted to capture the attention of the world's greatest detective. Hours after waking up in that Massachusetts hospital, once he'd gathered his wits and realized his dilemma, he'd scribbled furiously on every napkin, notebook paper, and medical chart he could find. Writing everything he could possibly remember before that knowledge faded away.
Bruce Wayne had designed this game to set himself, the younger version of himself, on a very specific path of discovery, but still one entirely of his own choosing. These moves would light the path, but it was still up to him to decide to follow or not. Somehow Wally had to mimic that plan to connect each mission to something bigger, while fully factoring in all the variables. Conceivable on paper, nearly freaking impossible in real life.
Despite Dick Grayson's patient instruction, Wally had never been very good at chess, much to slow for his liking, but in this case maybe slow was the key. Remember to look three steps ahead before you leap. Wally knew the broader strokes, it was the little ones in between he had to color in.
The goal of chess was to put the king in a position where he cannot escape. Wally had just placed the Light on the board, and he desperately needed checkmate in as few moves as possible.
xxx
Another restless night, another early morning. Wally leaned against the headboard of his bed, pausing for a moment to rub the crusts of sleep from his eyes. His alarm was set to go off in less than hour but he'd been up since two o'clock, staring out at the posters haphazardly arranged across his room like some deranged Arkham patient.
Each one of these posters when placed linearly represented two distinct timelines; one he remembered and the other he hoped to change. Events circled in red were target dates in need of altering, ones in green had no real bearing on the mission, and the ones in blue were wild cards, the unknowns. Missions and events that could be crucial but the specifics now lost forever to time and space. The sheer enormity of it was overwhelming.
Thanks a lot Fate.
What in the hell had he been thinking? He was no detective, no trained CSI, he was a college student who'd been out of the game for years and it showed. While people like Dick, Artemis and Roy had trained their entire lives to master a skill, and not just excel in it but become the best, he was fast, that's it, that's all. It wasn't a skill; it wasn't something he worked to perfect. It was ability, a response, like breathing.
He was a one trick pony. He was a joke, and he was only going to fuck everything up worse than it already was.
Wally wiped the tears from his eyes, banging his head against the headboard over and over. He'd finally hit the wall. Exhaustion and despair had sunk their claws into him and they weren't letting go.
He was the wrong person for this mission. Hell if Bart had been around years earlier he probably wouldn't have even made the Team.
Barry Allen's poor little nephew, wanting so badly to be special, to run by his idol's side, but instead constantly left in the dust.
In truth they weren't even really related.
The only reason Bruce had allowed him to take part in this mission was because he had no choice. If Tina, Ray and Silas had been able to make Bart's time ship work again, they would have politely asked Wally to go sit in the corner, to be quiet, and stay out of everyone's way.
He was so lost.
Across the room, the moonlight shined off his collection of trophies, making them almost glow in the darkness.
Keystone High School Newton Award
Recognizing Excellence in Science.
Wallace R. West
There were four of them on his dresser, one for each year, surrounded by numerous smaller ones and other awards. Then it struck. There was something he'd been training for his entire life.
He was a scientist, or hoped to be one day. Recreating a dangerous experiment to give himself super speed, while impressive was not exactly something you could put on a resume, but it pointed to a gift, a skill.
His mind didn't work like Bruce's, but Bruce's didn't work like his either. He was a child of science; investigating phenomenons, acquiring new knowledge, correcting and integrating previous observations into the problem. Things that came naturally to him, things he'd learned before he ever opened a textbook. Those were his skills, that was his power.
He had to treat each mission just like solving a problem. Measurements and experiments, formulations and modifications, predictions and yes….guesses. The
Scientific Method in a nutshell.
No detail was too small now, every event, every change had to be deliberate, everything had to be precise. There would be mistakes, there would always be mistakes. Some of life's greatest discoveries had been by accident or error. He just needed to do his best to minimize those the best he could. He couldn't have another Louisiana.
He wiped his weary eyes and got back to the task at hand. Feeling sorry for himself wasn't going to accomplish anything
Wally still had the framework of Bruce's plan, but now it was up to him to fill in the gaps and it was going to take time, something he didn't have as much of as he'd like. Being one of the fastest men alive carried more weight now than ever had.
So far he'd been lucky. The Brain was off the board, an actual member of Light in custody. That was big. Wally would bet all the money he had that Batman had gotten Atomic Skull to spill everything he knew, Bruce's interrogation methods were known to be…persuasive.
Skull was a bit player, a minor leaguer. His goal was to protect the facility and provide energy for Ivey's pet. He'd spill everything he knew about the Injsutice League, but probably was never let in on who funded them. Ultimately he answered to Count Vertigo, and Vertigo was an ally of Vandal Savage. That was the connection that needed to be made, that was what Bruce had to find.
Following the posters around the room, the key to several of these missions was to win them before they even started. Others to allow them to follow the course they were supposed to travel, and a select few to lose. Those losses might end up being more important than victories if it meant becoming a blip on the Dark Knight's radar. The trick was figuring out which ones.
Wally hopped up from his bed and began scribbling on each individual poster. Formulas, percentages, variables; parts of the plans he remembered and others he'd have to hypothesize, which in the end was just a fancy way to say guess. Hypothesis sounded smart, guess sounded desperate.
He would treat each mission like a math problem, like an experiment. Determine the norms, factor in the variables, and find the solutions.
Wally highlighted what he knew and remembered, factored in as many variables as he could think of, and tried to connect them in a way that someone might be able to follow. It wasn't perfect by any means, there was still plenty of room for error, but all of life's great mysteries rarely had an answer key attached.
One of the biggest variables to jump off the page was the most obvious. Because of the speedster's intervention in Louisiana, Dr. Fate had not been needed to save the day, and because of that Wally's true identity had remained safe. How long could that last was an unknown, so Wally needed to do everything in his power to make sure the Helmet never left the souvenir shelf. Easier said than done.
If changing history was really like playing Chess, Wally knew he was screwed. He couldn't make up for every single move Bruce Wayne had hoped play, but he still had some ideas of his own.
In the end he wasn't a superhero, he wasn't Batman, he was Wally West and that would have to be enough.
Believe in the impossible. Barry used to say it, Kent Nelson lived it, and Wally West was going to achieve it, but first he had to pass his A.P. History and French Lit test two hours from now, and he hadn't even opened the book.
High School still sucked as much the second time as it did the first. God he was tired.
xxx
Wally arrived just as the first bell rung, joining in the zombiefied conga line of exhausted teenagers making their way to first period. If it wasn't so surreal it would probably have felt more humiliating, squeezing through the cramped hallways of Keystone shoulder to shoulder where just months ago he and his girlfriend were enjoying the wide open courtyards and quads of Stanford.
Youth is wasted on the young Barry always said, but he never had to be seventeen twice and repeating twelfth grade. The teachers were more burned out than he remembered, the food twice as bad, and almost all of the girls still looked at him like he had the plague; the joys of being a ginger.
Once, just once, he would have loved to have sped into a pep rally, pulled down the cowl and showed the world he was something other than that science geek from Chemistry class that got his ass handed to him in P.E. all the time. He was a superhero after all , junior partner to Central City's greatest hero, and it still royally sucked that every day he was out protecting the city while the quarterbacks and cheerleaders of the world stepped all over him like some midwestern tumbleweed. He didn't become a superhero to get the girl, but it still would have been a nice bonus every now and then.
His friends were pretty much the way he remembered; shy quiet brainy kids, funny and personable in their own nerdy way, trying their best to stay off the radar and finish high school as quick as possible, heading off to fine colleges in parts unknown, and getting the hell out of Missouri as fast as possible. Wally remembered the feeling well.
Unfortunately college was the last thing he was worried about at the moment. He knew he wasn't putting the hours in, and his grades were showing it. It was understandable all things considered. Besides it was hard to worry about things like honor roll and principals list when you carried around the burden of saving the world.
As lunch approached, Wally made his way to his locker to retrieve what scrumptious meal his mom had been so kind to pack. He opened his lunchbox, peeling open the Tupperware to catch the mouthwatering aroma of…tuna casserole.
"Oh man," he whined, shoulders dropping and stomach souring at the sight and smell of his least favorite meal. He pulled out his wallet, hoping to find some cash he could use to fly through the lunch line to get a burger and fries before class when he heard the raucous.
Up ahead, standing in the middle of the hallway like some conquering hero returning from war stood Earl Mumford, aka Big Earl, six foot two, 225 pounds of solid douchebaggary.
His notable accolades included; starting middle linebacker of one of the worst football teams Keystone had ever fielded, voted wittiest by the senior class because basically that was the last superlative left, and generally being an all-around asshole. He wasn't a bully in the traditional sense, he was more interested in humiliation and soul crushing than actually mixing it up, but from time to time he was more than happy to remind people why he had that moronic nickname.
He'd made Wally's first two years of high school miserable, zeroing in on the insecure freckled redhead like a Minutemen missile before moving on to another sect of Keystone High's non-ruling class. By the time Wally was about to graduate, Earl was preparing to repeat his senior year, or as he called it red shirting. How Wally wished his speed had come on just a bit sooner.
The last thing he'd heard, in his timeline anyway, was Earl was selling cars for his old man and regaling the crowds with stories of faded high school glory, very similar to what he was doing presently. The speedster rolled his eyes and continued on through the sea of rubberneckers. He didn't have time for this, desperately needing to catch Mrs. Sharp before Trigonometry and beg for the chance for some extra credit to bring up his grade.
As he passed through the crowd, lying on the ground, his books scattered out across the hallway floor was a freshman on all fours, trying but failing to pick up his books that kept being kicked away from him. Wally recognized the kid, unsure of his name but he'd recently joined the Physics Club a few weeks ago. Nice kid, quiet kid, the exact type victim bullies preyed upon. Towering over the terrified freshman stood Earl and his jackass entourage, taunting and teasing the hapless teen.
Big Earl most likely wouldn't physically hurt him, morosely enjoying the psychological trauma much more. It was a fucked up right of passage that many shy and brainy kids had endured before, including the speedster. The kid would be fine; he'd pick himself up and move on, learning to avoid the routes and roads Earl and his friends traveled.
Wally was halfway to class when he stopped, closing his eyes in frustration. The kid would be fine. Earl would move on in a couple of weeks and the freshman would be no worse for wear. It was just high school, and Wally had the weight of the world on his shoulders. Then he remembered those seven little words. The definition of what it was to be a hero.
We help those that can't help themselves.
Wally sighed, walked back and squeezing his way through the cheering crowd as he reached the freshman, picking up his books along the way.
"Come on Earl, give the kid a break," he pleaded, bending down to hand the teen his books, when Earl knocked the them out of his hands, sending them flying to the floor once again.
"Fuck off West, this doesn't concern you."
"Dude just let him go. He's sacred shitless, mission accomplished. Just give him a break ok?"
Big Earl smiled, taking a step closer as Wally stood back up. That's when Wally remembered just how big he was. Without super powers he might have given Conner a run for his money. He towered over the speedster, and obscene smile spreading across his lips.
"You want to take his place? You want to be a hero West?" he laughed, placing his massive hand on Wally's chest sending his flying across the hall towards the opposite lockers.
Oohs and aahs echoed down the hallway as Wally pulled himself back up, an odd smile appearing on his face.
"You shouldn't have done that."
xxx
Rudy West pulled up in front of the school, parking his beat up Camry in front of the office and waking towards the main doors. This couldn't have come at a more inconvenient time. Vendors from all over city were coming to make presentations at the Keystone Tax Assessor's office, showcasing new software programs, and as officer manager it would probably have been appreciated if he'd been there. This date had been on the books for months, and the timing couldn't have been worse, something Wally excelled in from time to time.
As he entered the office, two large figures were making their way out. Rudy recognized Bill Mumford from his tacky car commercials on television, and had to assume the hulking teen following behind to be so son. Both men looked at him with contempt when Rudy noticed the blood soaked wads of toilet paper shoved up the teen's nose and his raccoon colored eyes that had recently been dotted.
Walking through the doorway he discovered Wally seated in the small lobby, looking no worse for wear, displaying a bored and annoyed expression that disappeared quickly upon seeing his father. Before he could speak to his son, Robert Swope stepped out of his office, a sympathetic look cast across the principal's face.
Rudy and Bob had a long history, both members of the same church, both Freemasons, Rudy even did Bob's taxes on the side. The last thing either one ever expected was to be meeting in his office like this.
Rudy sat down in the plushy leather couch across from him, massaging his aching temples.
"Sorry to bring in you in like this Rudy."
"No no, it's ok. I'm sorry to put you in the position in the first place. So tell me what happened?"
"Well..." Swope sighed. "Wally had… an altercation with Bill Mumford's kid."
"Altercation?"
"Well to put it bluntly, Wally beat the hell out him. It took two teachers to pull him off."
Rudy shook his head in disbelief. "Bob, I...I don't know what to say. That's just not like him."
"I couldn't agree more. Wally's always been one of our best students. He's never had any write-ups or detentions, always the first to volunteer in class to help his teachers. I know boys will be boys, but unfortunately this was pretty visible, half the student body was watching, I can't excuse it."
"Bob I completely understand."
"Rudy, you and I have been friends for a long time. Off the record, Earl's had something like this coming for a while, and I'm actually pretty impressed that Wally was the one to do it. I doubt he'll be doing anything like this again any time soon and I know Wally won't, so I'm just going to give them both a one day in-school suspension. It's the least punitive thing I can do. Does that sound fair?"
"More than fair," Rudy replied. "And once again I'm really sorry to have put you in this position."
"Don't. It's my job. All I want is what's best for these guys. When they succeed, we all succeed."
Rudy extended his hand to the principal. "Thanks Bob. I really appreciate it."
Swope gripped it firmly in return, hesitating and looking still a bit uncontrollable.
"Rudy...there's something else."
The elder West sighed, sitting back down, preparing for the worse.
Outside in the parking lot, Wally climbed into the passenger seat, his father already seated, eyes locked straight ahead, knuckles gripping the wheel tightly. The silence was deafening. They both sat quietly for minutes until Rudy finally turned to his son
"What in the hell is wrong with you?"
"Dad..."
"Don't!" Rudy barked, "don't talk, just listen."
He paused just for a moment to gather his thoughts before he tore in.
"I don't even know who you are anymore. Ever since your experience with that Dr. Fate character, you haven't been the same. I don't know what to do anymore. You're our son, we are the ones responsible for raising you, not the Justice League, not your uncle Barry...us!. We've been as patient as we can with your extra-curriculars, but damnit Wally you can't run around in tights for the rest of your life. You have to think about the future."
"I promise you dad, that's I'll I've been thinking of."
"It sure doesn't seem like it. You have a gift son, and I don't mean your abilities. You're brilliant and even though it sounds cliché, you honestly can do anything you want to. You've wanted to be a scientist your whole life, and what you've accomplished is incredible, but now you have a chance to go to one of the finest colleges in the country to learn from the best, and you're pissing it all away."
Wally's eyes grew wide as his dad continued his tirade.
"Oh, you didn't think we'd find out about your grades? Of course Bob showed me. Three C's and a D. You haven't had a D since you were six, and that was in art."
"I'm pretty sure there were some A's scattered in there somewhere," Wally replied dryly.
"If you're trying to be funny, don't. There's nothing funny about it. You are throwing away your chance at Stanford, and for what?"
"Dad, I got a 35 on my ACT's. I've already been accepted, I have scholarships..."
"Which won't mean a thing if you don't keep a 3.7 or above. Wally you're not even at a 3 right now. And it's not just about admissions and you know it. Your mother and I can't afford to send you out there. It's always been about scholarships, and you're going to lose everything if you don't get your shit together."
"You know how proud your mom and I are of what you do. I can't even begin to imagine what it must be like to be a superhero, but you have no idea what it's like to be a parent. Staying up all night watching the news, praying you won't get yourself killed, or worse... like a coma. Having your son raised by the Justice League instead of your parents. Do you have any idea how frustrating it is to have to lean on Barry all the time because we can't connect with you, because we're not superheroes? It wasn't Barry who stayed by your side, praying, pleading, and begging the Lord to bring you back, it was your mother and I, and for what? To lose you all over again?"
"Dad you're not losing me."
"Are you sure? Because the Wally I know and love doesn't get in fights at school, he doesn't hide his grades from us. He sits at our dinner table telling us about his day, how excited he is about his future, not locked in his room until he gets called out for a mission."
"Dad, Earl was beating up a freshman. No one would do anything, what was I supposed to do?"
"You get a teacher, you get the principal, and no matter what you don't knock his block off in front of the whole school. I know you fight bad guys all the time, but that idiot kid is not Captain Cold, he's not the Trickster, and that's not how you keep a secret identity secret. It's reckless and stupid, and you're smarter than that, or at least I thought you were."
His dad let out a heavy sigh. "Wally there's going to come a time, and it will be here sooner than you think, when you're going to have to choose between being a student or being a hero, because I don't think you can do both, not unless you want to stay home and go to Community College, studying science from some guy who doesn't know half as much as you do. Stanford is going to be more challenging than anything you've ever done before. Up till now it's been easy for you, but if you really want to pursue physics as a major, it's only going to get tougher. Is any of this hitting home?"
Wally's head remained downcast. "Yes sir."
This was unreal, just fucking unreal. Here he was, desperately trying to save the future, while not getting himself caught or killed in the process. He had no help, no back up, no one to confide in, and no one to lean on.
His days were spent lying to his friends and family, and his nights trying to map out the next mission without fucking up the timeline any more than he already had. And instead of working on strategy and tactics against guys like Vandal Savage and Lex Luthor, he was sitting in a car with his dad, suspended from school, getting yelled at about his grades. Everything was turning to shit faster than he could clean it up. Homework and test scores seemed insignificant in comparison to what he had hanging over him.
But his dad was right. Someday, somehow this insane mission would end one way or another, and when it was did, and the future was set, he'd have to figure out his own path. It was just another weight he'd have to carry.
His parents loved him, they'd always been his biggest supporters, always been in his corner. He rarely thought about how helpless they must have felt when he was out saving the world. Not until he watched Artemis get on that submarine, not until he watched the love of his life disappear under that orange and black mask. Things like that put it all in perspective. When it was over, there would be no going back to his old life. The game may have changed, but the rules remained the same.
"I'm sorry dad, I really am. I'll get it together, I promise."
"Prove it. Show it."
"Yes sir."
"In the meantime, get comfortable with idea of staying home, because you're not going anywhere anytime soon. Justice League or not.
"Yes sir."
Nothing else was said the rest of the car ride home.
xxx
"Yes mam."
"Yes mam."
"Yes mam. I understand."
"Good night to you too Mrs. West."
Robin sighed as he hung up his phone, turning back from the dimly lit hallway and joining his teammates in the common area.
"Go ahead and start the movie, he's not coming."
"Is everything alright?" Kaldur asked.
Dick grabbed the popcorn bowl off the counter and sat down next to Zatanna, trying not to be too obvious.
"He um..." Robin chuckled, "he's grounded?" he said in a tone that was more question than statement.
"Grounded? Megan repeated.
"What's grounded?"
Artemis stared over at her clueless boyfriend in annoyance. "Confided to quarters, locked in a pod, whatever. Any idea what he did?" the archer asked curiously.
Dick rolled his eyes in disbelief. "He got in a fight at school."
"You're kidding."
"Is that normal? Zatanna asked.
"No," Dick sighed, "No...it...is...not."
xxx
It had been a slow uneventful two weeks. Taking his dad's words to heart, Wally spent more time on his homework, and every free moment studying his mission plans. It's not like he had much choice, fastest teen alive or not, he was still grounded. Time moved on like it always did, and the speedster had remained so focused on school and family, that Batman's call had taken him by surprise.
The message was brief and to the point. It was a simple training exercise, no field work involved, the entire drill would be confined to the recesses of the cave, lasting no longer than a day.
That's when Wally remembered, and there was nothing simple about it. Reluctantly Wally's parents gave him permission to go. He wished deep down that they hadn't.
Recognize B-03
The computer announced Wally's arrival to an empty room. He was early, hours before his teammates would report. Even Kaldur was still asleep and he rose with the sun.
Wally appreciated the silence; he wasn't in much of a chatty mood anyway. He was tired; he was always tired these days. He'd barely slept the night before, and who could blame him?
Today, he and everyone he loved were going to die.
Stepping off the Zeta platform, despite not being hungry in the slightest, a rarity for him, he headed towards the kitchen, it was going to be a long day. Turning the corner, he froze in his tracks.
Sitting at the counter, two steaming cups of coffee in their hands stood the Man of Steel and the Dark Knight, chatting, talking, not killing each other.
The last memory Wally had of those two were what nightmares were made of, one he wished he could forget. Bruce Wayne in shattered black armor, savagely attacking the helpless Kryptonian, refusing to fight back in a gruesome battle to the death.
He didn't realize how long he'd been staring when Superman turned to him. "Wally are you ok?"
He nodded wide eyed, unable to find or form words.
"You're early," Batman announced, as always emotionless and to the point.
Yeah, I um...didn't expect anyone to be here yet. So uh...you both are leading this exercise?"
"No, I'm on my way to Metropolis, I just had a few thing to discuss with Batman first."
"Uh...ok," the speedster replied dumbly, forgetting a time when Clark and Bruce were close friends and not adversities.
He just stood there, like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar, confidant both men could see right through his disguise, that at any moment he they'd turn on him, demand to know who he really was. When it came to poker faces, Wally was terrible.
"Is there something you need?" Batman asked impatiently, seemingly irritated with the speedster's sudden appearance.
"Uh...no. Just super excited about this exercise, whatever it is I mean. Well I um...I'm just going to see if anyone else is up. I...um…yeah."
He was babbling, he knew it and they knew it. Instead of making things worse he ran off, that's all he knew.
The two men eyed his after-image curiously as he sped away.
"Well that was weird," Clark said plainly, taking another sip of the rich Colombian blend. "Do you think he knows what's in store for him?"
"Doubtful, I haven't even told Robin."
"I hope they fare better than we did," Clark replied. "I wasn't much of a fan when J'onn did this exercise with us."
"It's because you don't believe in the no win scenario," Bruce replied in his deep rich timber.
"You know me too well Bruce," Superman chucked.
"I have to, that's the job."
xxx
The tables were cold, sterile, like the one he was on when he woke up in that Massachusetts hospital, except this time he knew where he was and where he was going.
The Manhunter instructed them to clear their minds, find a peaceful place, and cast out all thoughts and doubts of what they might see and experience. Failure to do so would corrupt the experiment, making the lesson pointless. So with that knowledge in mind, Wally did the opposite. He held on to everything. He may have had to go through with the mission; he just didn't have to believe it.
Glancing around the room, the Team seemed relaxed and excited. That wouldn't last for long. Wally was glad Zatanna wasn't here, she wasn't ready for this. None of them were.
The room began to get hazy as reality blinked, and suddenly they were standing in uniform, gathered around the cave's main monitor, just in time to watch the Green Lanterns die. It had stated.
Much Like last time, Wolf was the first to die, and similarly Conner showed barely any emotion or remorse. Wally couldn't help but wonder if that was somehow programmed into his DNA by Cadmus, because it seemed Superboy Prime had dispatched his victims in a similar way, the same causal disregard.
Wally shook his head and focused. It wasn't Conner he kept repeating to himself about the creature that killed Hal Jordan. It wasn't Conner, his friend, his brother.
The weapon turret was torn away, and by the time the second wave appeared in the distance, Megan was already merging the captured weapon with the Bioship. It was happening, just as it had before. It wouldn't be long now.
Wally's stomach churned, feeling eerily detached, as if this was some kind of movie and he was sitting alone in a front row seat. He stood frozen, helpless, fully aware none of it was real, but sickened at the events to come.
This mission had no bearing on his, it was just a train for failure exercise, a painful and cruel no win scenario designed to test the team limits, initiate them into the cold hard reality of loss and defeat. Observing and suffering their friends' deaths while still battling on. Never surrendering, not up until the bitter end.
It was stupid and reckless, and Megan should never have been put in that position by Batman or her uncle. Even then Wally felt it served no purpose, doubly so now. He just wanted it to be over, power his way to the mothership and die a quick and violent death. Wake up and move on. There was nothing about this mission that needed to be changed or altered, it just needed to be over.
The two alien ships began their death plunge as Artemis cocked her arrow.
"Got you covered, get inside, I'm almost there."
As always here aim was true.
The first ship crashed into the ground, exploding in a fiery blaze, but the second was knocked from the sky, landing roughly on the ice and sliding to a stop. Wally closed his eyes, unable to breath. It was about to happen.
"Artemis behind you!" Megan cried as the archer ran desperately for cover, seconds from death
It wasn't real, none of it was real he swore to himself. In a few hours they would all awaken in the cave, shaken but alive. Wally watched her run, her feet sliding helplessly on the ice, her lungs burning, her mind in survival mode.
Did she knew she was about to die? Would it hurt? Did she suffer? Those thoughts ran through his mind at light speed until he made the decision. He couldn't watch her die, not again.
Fuck this
His feet were already a blur when he heard the whine of the alien weapon. He imagined he could feel the heat racing behind him, chasing him down like some prehistoric predator. All it took was a gentle push to the small of her back to send her flying helplessly into the snowbank fifty yards ahead.
His body slowed, his heart full. He hadn't saved her, not really. The exercise would still end in fiery death for all of them, but at least he wouldn't be around to witness it. He closed his eyes and waited for the inevitable.
"Wally!" he heard the Martian shriek
And then silence, and peace
xxx
It was tranquil, silent. His body seemed to float, all his cares and fears washed away. He wasn't racing inside the chrysalis. Kinetic feedback was not attacking him. Bart was no longer lapping him. Barry was not screaming desperately at him. And his body wasn't fading before his eyes. He was just simply gone, his light simply switched to darkness
There were no visions of past or future, just blessed blackness and satisfaction. He'd saved her, that's all that mattered. He could stay like this forever. Waves of dopamine were released from his brain as he drifted in peace, dreaming of beaches, blue skies, and golden blonde hair.
"Wally," Captain Marvel spoke softly, gently shaking the young speedster. He ignored the summons, clawing desperately to stay in his tranquil reality
"Wally," the voice repeated, resonating with more force, his shaking becoming so strong it couldn't be ignored. The speedster opened his eyes to see members of the League wakening his team from their tables, all struggling to come to terms with what had just happened.
The Manhunter began to explain it was all an exercise. That they were all aware of it going in, and something unforeseen had happened.
"...but all of that changed when Wally died."
J'onn began to explain what he had witnessed. The mission continued on much like it had before, but this time Robin had died in the Hall of Justice, and Artemis and Kaldur were the ones that made it to the end, only to die a tragic death as Megan watched helplessly.
This mission, in the grand scheme of things served no purpose, not in Wally's mind anyway. Six teens were needlessly traumatized, fingers were pointed, distrust was sown, and secrets remained hidden and buried. Back then it was Artemis, Conner and M'gann that were guilty of it, but even combined they were dwarfed by what Wally was keeping.
He was so God damned sick of secrets.
xxx
The speedster rested his head against the cool porcelain, the steaming hot shower feeling oddly cold against his unnaturally warm skin. His body ached, it was purely psychosomatic, but when the brain believes you're dead, it acts accordingly.
Stepping out, the cool cave air did nothing to chase the chill from his body. He just wanted to get to his quarters, get in his bed, and forget the day had ever happened. With the towel wrapped firmly around his waist, his flip flopped squished down the hall, stopping as the door to Robin's quarters opened.
Dick stepped outside heading for the showers, sunglasses hiding his tired and worn blue eyes. Wally knew that look, it wasn't just exhaustion, it was guilt. Robin should have been there at the end, it should have been him sacrificing himself aboard the mothership, not Kaldur and Artemis. Despite his youth he'd been a hero the longest of any them. He was ready to make that sacrifice, it should never have been left to anyone else. That was the Batman in him.
"Good shower?" he asked, trying to make small talk with someone who wanted to be alone as much as he did.
"No, not really."
"Are you ok?" Dick asked.
"Yeah, you?"
"I don't know, I guess."
"I know what you mean," Wally replied.
Before the conversation could continue, it was interrupted by the sound of loud voices coming from down the hall and drawing closer.
"Artemis!" Conner pleaded as the angry archer stomped down the hall, pulling away from his grasp. "Artemis just stop for a second and talk to me," he repeated angrily.
"What!" she snapped, turning quickly on her heels to face him.
"I just wanted to make sure you're alright."
"Of course you did, that's why you've been fawning all over M'gann since we all came to."
"It's not like that and you know it," he yelled back, his anger beginning to rise to the meet hers.
"Oh so now you're a mind reader too? Those guys at Cadmus really thought of everything."
"Fine. I'm out of here. When and if you cool down, I'll be around," he huffed.
"Oh I know where you'll be!" she scolded as he turned his back and walked away, another in a long line of people who had left her behind.
The archer's hands shook, and emotions she was barely keeping inside were clawing their way out. Artemis turned back to her room, seeing the speedster and the boy wonder staring from down the hall, watching her; judging her.
"What are you looking at?!" she snarled, entering her room and slamming the door behind her.
"Wow," Robin whistled. "I'm glad I'm not him. He's lucky he's bulletproof."
"Yeah," Wally said impassively. He'd been on that end before, and more often than not had been the cause.
"I'll catch ya later," Dick replied, turning and heading to the shower.
When the hallway was empty, Wally quietly made his way to Artemis's door. He hovered there for moments, his knuckles fighting the urge to knock.
Inside, barely above a whisper, he heard a light sob, and it tore at his heart. He wanted so badly to say something, to find a way to comfort her in some way, but it wasn't his place, she wasn't his, and if history held true, she never would be.
Wally turned, and went back to his room, closing the door, turning on the fan, and turning off the light. In the blackness, the low hum of the fan was soothing, an electric lullaby that he couldn't sleep without.
He was so lost
Oh God thy sea is so great and my boat is so small.
This Old Breton prayer was inscribed on a block of wood on the desk of President John F. Kennedy, something Admiral Rickover would give to new submarine captains before heading to sea. Wally had just studied that in A.P. U.S. History. That phrase summed up exactly how he felt; the challenge, the exhaustion, the despair.
He had two choices; stop and feel sorry for himself or keep moving forward. In the
end he knew Flashes were meant to be in motion.
xxx
The knock on his door jolted him jolted him from a restless sleep. Wally looked to his clock to see 2:42. If it was some kind of emergency mission he was going to lose his shit.
He stumbled to the door, stubbing his toe on a variety of objects he'd lazily left strown on the floor. He fumbled with lock, finally opening it to see a cascade of golden hair and a face shrouded in shadow.
The speedster and the archer stood face to face silently, neither speaking or knowing what to say. Finally Artemis broke the silence.
"Why? Why'd you do it?"
The question was vague, but Wally knew what she asked, and the answer was more complicated and complex that she could possibly understand. What was he supposed say? That she was his first and only love, that she invaded his thoughts and haunted his dreams? That he had given up everything to save her...twice, and he would do it all again in a heartbeat.
In the end, he gave the simplest and most honest answer he could.
"Because you're my friend, and I couldn't let you die."
Artemis paused at that answer, neither reacting nor replying. After moments of awkward since, she turned to make her way back to her room.
"Good night Wally," she said quietly and closed his door.
Author's Notes:Well another one is in the books. Hopefully I can get the next chapter out a bit sooner. In case you're interested in some incredible spitfire drama, if you haven't found her yet, head over to Parenthesis by Knotted Blonde, honestly her Young Justice stories are probably the best I've ever read, you'll be glad you did. I'm just a huge fan, and she couldn't be nicer. Tell her I said hi. As always thanks for reading, hope you're enjoying the story, please pardon the typos, and please leave a review if you have the time. Thanks.