Author's Note: Finals are over for me! Thank goodness. Those were stressful. Still waiting on all my grades, but its looking like I did alright, so that's exciting. Okay, here we are with the next chapter. Read, review, and (most importantly, especially during this time) enjoy!
Response to Guest Review:
Guest – Me too, bro. Wally being an awesome, powerful supervillain is gorgeous. Thanks for the review!
WWWWWW
Wally realized fairly quickly that he didn't actually know where to go. His memories of the Rogues hadn't come back at that point, so he didn't know where their bases were, and he didn't want to run around Central City yelling for the Rogues. There was a chance that would have actually attracted them, but it would have definitely attracted the League and that was the last thing Wally wanted.
That left him running around the rest of the world to find somewhere to hole up until he could remember where the Rogues were. Maybe he could try triggering something? The only problem was that he didn't remember anything about the Rogues to be able to purposefully trigger memories of them. Scowling, Wally quickly pickpocketed about a dozen people before launching himself over to the next city. He came to a stop in an alleyway, walking out peacefully, like he'd been there all along. Germany wasn't too bad of a spot to stop. Thinking quickly, Wally wandered over to the nearest charity shop. He bought himself a weather appropriate outfit and changed into it in a bathroom in a nearby pub.
Glancing around the street, Wally's relaxed when he saw what appeared to be an internet café. He wondered idly when he learned German. Did he know other languages? He'd surprised himself and Talia by responding in Arabic once while al Ghul had him and Dick had confided that Wally had taught himself Romani as a romantic gesture towards Dick. So, there was two more languages. It stood to reason that he knew more than that. It would make sense, too, for a speedster to know a lot of languages. He wondered if Flash knew other languages. Or… there were other speedsters, right? Wally was pretty sure someone had told him that. Or maybe he was just remembering it. It was hard now to remember what other people told him he knew versus what he was actually remembering.
Sighing, Wally shook his head and slunk into the internet café. It was risky being somewhere so high profile, but he'd have to do what he had to do. Going to Central City without having a game plan was a no-go, so maybe he could trigger something by looking up the Rogues online. He didn't even know who the Rogues were made up of. All he needed was an address. Even if the Rogues weren't there, just being in the base should trigger anything else he needed. Hopefully. At this point, though, there really wasn't anything else Wally could do.
Mind set, Wally payed for a few hours of computer time, ordered himself some food, and got to work.
DDDDDD
Kara was devastated. Ben had apparently been one of her best friends before Cat Grant fired him and they drifted apart. When he'd come back, she'd been understandably upset about what he'd done, but she was proud of him for standing up against the villains and turning himself in. They had started to rekindle that friendship. Kara had taken to hanging out with Ben whenever Dick was in there with Wally. She might have gone and visited other times, too, but Dick wasn't sure.
Either way, Ben's death was hitting her hard. Dick wanted to be as torn up about it as she was, too. Ben had given them a lot of good information and he had been very brave when he admitted to his crimes and allowed himself to be arrested. The tapes of the fight showed that he'd been trying to help them both escape when he'd died, that he'd told Wally how to defeat the others. Plus, Dick knew that Wally was starting to be friends with Ben, too. So, Dick wanted to be upset about it. He wanted to let his grief for Ben's loss cloud over him. But he couldn't. Because Wally was gone again. This time, at least, he was on his own, not kidnapped by someone or another. That hardly mattered, though. He was gone and he was hurting, and he was alone, and he'd looked at Dick with such contempt before he left.
The vicious, hurt look on Wally's face when he'd told the heroes that he'd finally trusted them, and they hadn't delivered had broken Dick's heart. He could hope and pray that once this was all over and Wally got his memories back, he wouldn't feel like that anymore, but he knew that Wally was always going to have that memory. He was going to remember trusting in the heroes and waiting for them to come save him and he was going to remember them not coming until it was too late. Until he had already saved himself.
Barry's voice startled Dick out of his reverie, "Hey there. How are you holding up?"
"Have the Rogues seen him?" Dick rasped. He didn't bother answering Barry's question. They both knew the answer to that.
Barry winced as he levered himself to sit next to Dick, "The Rogues won't even pick up the phone for me, kid. We should have let them see him."
Dick grimaced, "We both know that he would have been gone in a heartbeat if we let the Rogues see him. They would have taken him and then who knows if he'd ever stop the space outs or get his memories back. We couldn't risk it."
Barry sighed, glancing to the side the way he always did when he was gearing himself up to say something unpleasant, "Was it that we couldn't risk it, or was it that you couldn't risk it?"
"What's that supposed to mean?" Dick asked flatly.
Barry frowned, "Dick, I know you love him. I know I wouldn't be acting any different if this was Iris we were talking about, but… you have to know that the Rogues would have let us see him. As frustrated as they are with this whole experience and as much as they want Wally back, they know we have all this research and that we could have helped. They want Wally to be better as much as the rest of us and they would have swallowed their pride to get it done. I know you know this after spending five years dating one of their kids. So, my question is, are you sure you weren't just scared to let him out of your sight?"
Dick scowled, "Of course, I'm scared to let him out of my sight, Barry. Of course. It's been over two years since I was able to be with him! I thought he was dead. But I'm not, like, being obsessive over it or anything. It wasn't like I spent every spare moment up here with him. I just…" He trailed off, not entirely certain at that point where he had been going.
Barry put a hand on Dick's shoulder, "Wally is a speedster. He's a speedster and a free spirit besides. Rules and regulations and structure just make him antsy. What you were doing with him? For him, that probably was as bad as if you had literally not let him out of your sight. You were restricting the people he could see 'for his protection.' He was sleeping in a jail cell." Barry paused as Dick's head sunk down, starting to see the past week or so in a different light. He squeezed Dick's shoulder before smiling down at him and saying, "I won't stop looking but… if you truly love something, let it go. If it returns, then it was yours. Wally will be back, okay?"
"Okay," Dick whispered even as Barry walked away. Barry was right. Dick and Wally had five years of relationship together to back up their trust. Wally had been about to propose to Dick. Two years of torture and a bout of amnesia weren't going to change that. Dick had thought he was determined to not let that change anything, but then he'd been the one to change. He knew Wally didn't like to be overtly protected and coddled like this. He knew that Wally liked it better when they protected each other at the same time, when he was included in all the decisions and rationale. This must have been his worst nightmare.
Dick should have called in the Rogues. That was all there was to it. He should have let Wally see his family and stopped being so – so paranoid and obsessive about safety. He needed to stop emulating Batman.
Sighing, Dick scrubbed a hand over his face. He took a deep breath before pulling out his phone. Hesitantly, he scrolled through his contacts until he saw who he was looking for. Barry had said that the Rogues wouldn't answer the phone for him, but maybe he was just calling the wrong Rogue. Screwing up his courage, Dick clicked on the contact labeled 'James Jesse.'
WWWWWW
Wally was reaching the end of his rope waiting for a flashback that was more substantial than a teenager in a dog bed or a man in a giant, walk-in freezer when he finally struck something. It wasn't a flashback. It was much, much weirder than that. His eyebrows rose when he opened a new tab to look up the Rogues of Central City and found out that they were… currently attacking Central City. Loudly. Creatively. Wally was fairly certain he saw several glitter bombs.
Leaning closer to the screen, Wally read through the blog report. The person writing the article was clearly just as confused as Wally was about what was happening. Apparently, a full-scale, full-team Rogue attack hadn't been mounted since Momentum died. That was… kind of sweet and kind of depressing. Wally hoped he didn't screw up their lives too much with his 'death.' But the most confusing part of the whole mess, according to the blogger, was that the Rogues didn't seem to have any set goals. Normally, apparently, if there was a full-team attack, they were trying to take over the city or topple a new hero or destroy some sort of monument at one point. No matter what they were doing, though, they always made sure that the city knew what they were doing and why. But not this time. This was just semi-organized chaos.
Was… was this a sign? Was this aimed at Wally? He wasn't sure how they would know he had escaped, but if this wasn't a response to his escape, then it just coincidentally happened only an hour and a half after his escape which made it pretty suspect to him.
If this was aimed at him, though, how could he read it? What was he supposed to be looking at? How was he supposed to recognize a sign if he didn't remember the Rogues at all? Wally frowned and started clicking through articles and videos, hoping one of them would include some detail that would jog his memory. It didn't seem to be working. Frowning deeper, Wally squinted at the screen. They were literally spread all over Central, causing mayhem in every corner of town!
Well, maybe not every corner. Quickly, Wally pulled up a map of Central City, opening up a pen app. He drew marks over every portion of the city where an attack was currently happening. There was a very specific, four block square that was free of any of the chaos. No glitter bombs, no hordes of people being forced to dance, no living mirrors, no storms, no explosions, no ice, no fire. Was that a sign? Was he supposed to go somewhere in that area?
If he was, then who was to say that the heroes couldn't get there just as quick? Wally bit his lip; would he risk it? He could run if there were any other hero but the Flash. If the Flash was there, then Wally was screwed. He had no idea how fast the Flash was or how fast he was in comparison. If Flash was kept busy by the other Rogues and a different hero was there, though, then Wally would be free and clear.
So, would he go to that square of houses and see if something jogged his memory or would he stay in the internet café in Germany, where he was safe for the moment?
Licking his lips, Wally sighed, chugged the rest of his drink, and ran.
He came skidding to a stop moments later, letting out a wild laugh as he did so. Other than his mad dash to Germany from wherever the zeta beam had let him out, he'd never run like that before. Well, that he remembered, of course. He was certain that he'd done it plenty of times, which – incredible. That was incredible. Wally could hardly imagine a life where he could run like that whenever he wanted to. When continents disappeared with a few pounding heartbeats. He was the wind. He was the lightning. It was – incredible.
Trying to wipe what was surely a stupid grin off his face, Wally glanced around him. The street didn't look familiar. Literally nothing around him looked familiar. It didn't even look like a residential area or a warehouse district which is where he had imagined the Rogues would lead him. Maybe they really did just miss this spot when they were blanketing the town. Just to make sure, Wally ambled down the streets, trying to look like any other twenty-something year old man. This was some sort of downtown center. The streets seemed a little rougher even though he could clearly spot a museum and a bank just a couple streets over. There was trash lining the alleyways and graffiti spilling out onto the streets.
Wally narrowed his eyes and backtracked a little, looking down the last alley. That was an enormous mirror. It looked shiny and bright, too, like someone had come by to clean the glass recently. They clearly had left the rest of the mirror to rot, though. The frame was barely holding it upright at that point. Something about it seemed familiar, though. If Wally thought hard enough, he could almost remember falling asleep to his own reflection staring at him through that mirror. But… Wally didn't remember ever living on the streets. Why would he be falling asleep in this alleyway?
When Wally was within arm's-reach of the mirror, he stopped, staring it up and down. His lips curled downwards at himself. He had clearly lost some pounds, bone straining against muscle straining against skin. His clothes and hair were windblown and scattered, his long hair helplessly knotted behind him. Frowning, he reached back and pulled at his hair. He didn't really like it this long. He'd much prefer it to be shorter.
He didn't get a chance to think about it for much longer because then, inexplicably, there was a hand reaching through the mirror towards him. He was so surprised that he didn't even fight when the arm yanked and pulled him right through the mirror.
Wally is a little ashamed to admit that, even after all his research about the Rogues and the fact that he definitely knew that they had Mirror Master on their team, he came out of the Mirror Dimension swinging. There was a curse and a shriek and then Wally's arm was smashing into something hard and cold.
Wally reared back, finally taking a moment to glance around him and figure out what was going on. He realized that he had just punched someone who looked like they were made of ice – Icicle Jr., then. He would feel bad for that at some point. At the moment, though, adrenalin was rushing through his body as he tried to calm down from the fear of being grabbed and the feeling of being led quickly through the Mirror Dimension. He had to resist the urge to puke everything from the café back up.
As his breathing slowed down again, Wally realized that there was a large group of people staring at him. A quick count told him that this was the entirety of the Rogues. How did they all get there so fast? Had they already started back to this place before Wally had been pulled through the mirror?
Awkwardly, Wally could do nothing but stand there and stare back. He knew that he should know these people, but he didn't know them. If that made sense. He wasn't getting any immediate pings in his memory. He had no idea what to say. He really, really wished that one of them would speak first.
When they didn't, and just continued to stare at Wally like he was a ghost that crashed their party (even though they were the ones who essentially kidnapped him, thank you very much), Wally cleared his throat and turned to Icicle Jr., "Hey, uh, sorry about punching you. You guys caught me off-guard a little bit."
That seemed to be the key to getting everyone to stop staring at him because most of the group sagged in relief, some laughing joyously. The one that Wally was pretty sure was called Captain Cold moved forward, drawing his goggles up and his parka hood off, "Wally. It's good to see you again."
Wally raised his eyebrows, "Yeah, sounds like it. That was the most deadpan 'welcome back' I think I have ever heard."
Icicle Jr. snorted, quickly covering his mouth and nose with his hand when Captain Cold glared at him. Captain Cold huffed out a sigh before turning back to Wally, eyes marginally softer, "Sorry about that. We are genuinely happy to see you again. I didn't think we were going to be able to once the heroes took you. Don't know why I thought they would actually let us see you, but I did, and I was wrong."
Wally's expression darkened at the mention of the heroes, "Yeah, well, that's what you get for trusting heroes."
Pied Piper snorted from the corner of the room, clearly wiping tears from the corners of his eyes, "That's awfully dramatic. Still don't have your memories back?"
Wally scowled, "Not all of them, no. I don't even really know who you all are. I mean, I looked you up, hoping to trigger memories, but I didn't get anything useful."
"You don't remember us?" Trickster asked, staring up at Wally with a wobbly lip and teary eyes.
Wally felt a part of himself melt at the sight. He offered Trickster a small smile, "I remember seeing you in regular, uh, regular-ish clothes sitting in a dog bed. If that helps?" Trickster gave him a bright grin and glomped him, nearly breaking Wally's ribs with the pressure. For a moment, Wally stood there, shoulders tense, eyes wide, arms lifted out and away from his body. It wasn't until he saw Heatwave about to take Trickster away that he melted into the hug, pulling Trickster closer and wrapping his own arms around the man.
Something inside him clicked at the action. It didn't trigger an avalanche of memories or anything, but it sent out a wave of love and affection and safety that Wally could only attribute to having his family around him. He didn't remember this family yet. He only remembered his birth parents. But he could tell, immediately, intimately, that this was what a family was supposed to feel like. That this was where his family was. He buried himself deeper in the hug.
Wally finally pulled back when he felt a hand land on his shoulder. He was embarrassed to realize that there were tears in his eyes. He didn't even know these people, how were they making him feel like this? Dick and the others had made him feel definite other things, but the Rogues felt like – like what Wally imagined home would feel like. How could the heroes have kept him away from this if they wanted him to feel better?
He glanced around the room. Everyone was looking at him unashamedly. Some even had tears running down their faced. Wally clearly meant a lot to these people. It was obvious they had mourned him. He felt a sense of belonging in the way they gathered around him, smiling stretching their faces and joy lining every inch of their bodies. He didn't know these people, not anymore. But he didn't really think that he needed to know them to be able to feel how much they clearly loved him.
Sniffing once to tamp down on any more threatening tears, Wally blinked at the rest of the room, "So, uh, I don't know any of your names and I don't know where we are. Or what we're doing. I came here hoping to trigger the rest of my memories while avoiding the superheroes. So, not really sure where to go from here."
Captain Cold narrowed his eyes (which was more than slightly terrifying) before introducing the group, going one by one and making sure that Wally had the names down before he moved on. It was – nice. Once he'd gone around the group, Cold, well, Len, asked, "What did the superheroes do to upset you? How long did they even have you? Dick didn't explain anything. He just said that you ran and that you were probably looking for us based on your conversations with someone else."
Wally scowled, "They had me for a little over a week. As for what they did… doesn't matter. What does matter is that I'm not going back, and they now have Lex Luthor and Deathstroke in their little space prison."
Digger's eyebrows rose, "Looks like we missed quite a bit, there. Well, ankle biter, what do you want to do? We'll do whatever we need ta job them memories back. You just tell us what you think'll work."
Sighing, Wally scratched the back of his neck, "It's actions and conversations that seem to jog my memory the most. I'm getting a good chunk of my childhood back while I'm sleeping or dozing or whatever, but Ben guessed that since my childhood was so trash, I'm subconsciously repressing the rest of the memories, so I wanted to come here where I figure the memories are better and see if some good ones trigger the rest."
"Hm," Mick grunted, "I'll make your favorite food for dinner." He walked away before Wally could even ask what his favorite food was. He was feeling ice cream, but that didn't sound like something that could be made for dinner. Maybe some sort of pasta? Wally would eat literally anything as far as he knew.
Mark smiled, "We can get out of our suits and into our civvies, see if that helps. We can get you some of your own clothes, too. We never touched any of your stuff – never had the heart to. It should still fit. Well, actually, it might be a bit too big. You've lost a lot of weight."
"I'll get it back on!" came a shout from the kitchen. Wally eyed the area warily.
Hartley clapped his hands together, "The picture book! I was into scrapbooking for a little bit and I made one of all of us. I can grab that for after dinner. Or during dinner, depending on how chaotic you want it to be."
"Would it be more or less chaotic to look through the picture book during dinner?" Wally asked.
Hartley faltered, "I'm… not actually certain."
"Right," Wally said, feeling a little overwhelmed, "Let's go with after, then."
Sam, with his hand still clasped onto Wally's shoulder, said softly, "I can give you a tour around the place, make sure you know where everything is."
Hesitantly, Cameron offered, "I can grab his heist book, too. That's basically a diary for us. If anything will help him remember, it's that."
"The rest of us," Len said pointedly, "Will spend the time until dinner throwing off Flasher's scent. I don't think the heroes are going to seriously chase after us, but I need to make sure that the Flash doesn't go about making trouble. C'mon James. C'mon Digger."
"I don't want to leave," James wailed, sinking into a crouch and clutching onto Wally's leg. Instead of feeling alarmed, Wally just felt an overwhelming sense of fondness.
He glanced back up at Len, "Aw, can't you just let him be? He missed me." He sent a cheeky grin, the action more reflex than intentional. It made everyone in the room still stop, though, staring at him with a shadowed sort of wonder. Wally shrunk back into himself a little. He couldn't quite figure out what he felt when he saw them all staring at him like that. It was the same with Dick, when he'd go silent and look Wally over with a quiet awe. Wally knew that he'd essentially come back from the dead. But he didn't really know these people and he didn't feel like he'd been gone from anything for any amount of time. It was disquieting.
Len seemed to pick up on that faster than anyone Wally had met so far. His wondering look faded quickly into the bland dispassion he'd been wearing the whole time. He sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose, and said, "Fine. Keep him. Digger and I will handle this." And then he was gone, flinging his parka hood back over his head and sweeping out the door, Digger scrambling after him.
Wally frowned at Len's retreating back, "He's kind of dramatic, isn't he?"
Sam snorted, "I think 'kind of' is an understatement. He's very dramatic. Don't let him catch you saying that. It hurts his sensibilities." Sam patted Wally once more on the shoulder before starting the trek around the house, explaining various things as he went. It was, apparently, the very first safe house that Wally had ever gone to and one where they spent a good portion of their time. He glanced over things curiously and kept half his mind focused on whatever Sam was saying.
With the other half, he mused on the situation he found himself in. He felt like he'd been ping-ponged from person to person to person for the past couple months. This felt like the end of the line, though. It felt like he'd finally found a place he could stay, like there would be no more people he'd have to just put his trust into because he didn't know anyone else. That was a good feeling.
On the other hand, though, Wally felt the open, slightly trustful part of himself closing off. There was a lot of stuff going on here. A lot of movement, a lot of people. He hadn't been prepared for something so chaotic yet organized. This felt like a delicate jenga tower and he was the piece that would bring it crashing down. Maybe he had his rightful place two years ago, but not anymore. He wasn't the same person. They'd had two years to build around him, to live a life with the full expectation that he wouldn't be in it anymore. Did he really have a place in something like that?
Sam's voice jerked him out of his thoughts when the man suddenly switched topics, "Don't feel like you have to act around us, okay, kid?"
"What do you mean?" Wally asked cautiously.
Sam gave him a sad little smile, "We know that you don't have your memories back and that you'll have two years of life without us once they do come back. We understand that. Don't feel like you have to act a certain way or fit into any sort of role. We're going to do our best to not pigeon-hole you into the spot you used to have in the team we used to be. We're not the same people we were when you – left. You're not the same person. But we're family, so we'll still work together. Besides, you're not the only one recently back. Cameron left the team shortly after you died because he thought it was us getting buddy-buddy with the superheroes that let you die. We only just got him back on the team. He's trying to fit himself back in, too. And, well, I left the team, too. Not the same way Cam did. I didn't physically leave and find a new team. I just – wasn't here, emotionally or whatever. I wasn't here for the kids while they were grieving. I wasn't here for the men I consider to be my brothers. I went to a dark place. I'm only recently back from that, too. None of us are expecting anyone to be who they used to be. I'm not saying that we won't accidentally have expectations of people, but just yell at us if we do, okay?"
Wally searched his face, trying to understand. Cameron had left and Sam had grieved that much because of Wally? He was… he was that important to these people? People had kept alluding to Dick's decline and year of driving himself to the bone and isolating himself because of Wally's death. How did that happen? Why would they care so much? He was just Wally. That was it. What special thing had he done in the past to get people to feel so much for him? From what little bit he remembered of his childhood, he couldn't see himself ever doing something special enough to trick this many people into caring so much.
Sam smiled again, a little more genuine, "Don't know if you know it, but you're glaring at me."
Abruptly, Wally colored, turning his face away to futilely hide the blush. He scowled down at the floor and muttered, "I was just thinking. It wasn't at you."
"Sure, kid," Sam snorted.
Wally rolled his eyes, "I'm not a kid."
That had Sam briefly doing the awed-wonder-eyes at Wally before the man seemingly caught himself and coughed slightly. He gestured lamely down the corridor, "You ready to see your bedroom?"
Wally glanced down at the room that would probably hold the most triggers. He took a deep breath and nodded, "Yeah, I'm ready."
LLLLLL
Len could barely contain his fury long enough to get out of the house. In a way, he was glad that James had ended up staying because Len certainly didn't want him to see this. Len growled and kicked a nearby wall, ignoring the pain that shot up his foot. Digger just raised an eyebrow as Len cursed and kicked another wall. Eventually, Digger said, "That doesn't look like someone who just got one of his sons back from the dead."
Len snarled, "They had him for a week, Digger. I knew Dick was being secretive about this whole mess because he can't help his Bat paranoia, but this is a whole new level. And now they've sent him right back to the beginning. I'm not saying that Wally hasn't always been suspicious and a little jaded. Of course he has. I am saying that he was a lot more mellow about it as he grew! Now he's back to the start! Maybe getting his memories back will help, but it's clear the superheroes screwed something up!"
"What are ya going to do about it?" Digger asked, being surprisingly calm and level-headed for the moment. Maybe he was in shock.
Len took a deep breath, pushing his hair back under his parka, "I'm going to have a word with Flash and Nightwing. They're not going to like it, either." Digger just smirked in response. Len snarled at him, "What?"
Digger shrugged, "Nothing. I just think it's cute that you still want to make sure that Wally's uncle and boyfriend know that he's safe."
"I will hurt you," Len promised. Digger just smirked again. Len was starting to wish that Digger had asked to stay back in the house, too. Taking a deep breath to calm back down, Len sighed, "Call Flash. Tell him to meet at our usual meeting place. I'll bring the car around."
He forced himself to cool off as he went and grabbed the garage, bringing it out to the front where Digger was finishing off a phone call. Despite how he was reacting, he was thrilled that Wally was home. It was… it was everything he could have asked for, even if it was late in coming. Cameron was home. Sam was sober. Everyone was out of jail for the moment. It was the perfect homecoming. Well, Wally having his memories might have been preferable, but Len would take what he got. If this was all he could get, then that was all he could get. And he would be thankful for it.
Len was calm and collected by the time he and Digger made it to the meeting point. He noticed that the light was on in the house, meaning that at least Flash, probably also Nightwing had made it there before them. Not a surprise, but still irritating. It was the principle of the thing.
The two got out of the car and walked into the building. Len had to hold back his anger again when he saw the two heroes. He didn't give them a chance to speak before demanding, "What did you do to Wally?"
Dick winced which wasn't a good sign, but Barry was looking at them evenly, "Luthor and Deathstroke attacked the Watchtower. We're still figuring out how they got in. They brought a veritable army with them. All of us heroes were fighting them while Luthor and Deathstroke went to the prison block." Barry went on to explain just why Wally was in the prison block and what happened once the two Light members got there. Both Rogues were heartbroken at what Wally had to deal with there. They were also terrified at the thought that Luthor could still shut off Wally's powers. Was there a way to dismantle that? He'd need to look into that.
Len glared at both of them when Barry was done speaking, "You get to see him only when he asks for you. Not before, not after. If he permits it, we can get you information about him so you can continue your research. If he doesn't, you'll send all of your information and research to us and we'll figure it out. Actually, you'll send all of the research to us anyways. Wally deserves to know what you've discovered so far. He deserves to help research his own way. Is that understood?"
Surprisingly, it was Dick who answered first, nodding and stating firmly, "I understand. I'll get with Kid Flash and Blue Beetle to get any information that Flash doesn't have."
"Good," Len said, slightly mollified at how Dick was treating the situation now, even if he hated that it had to come to this, "Have you gotten any further in figuring out what Luthor meant when he said that he knew where Wally was during his missing months?"
"No, he won't talk," Dick sighed, "We can't convince him to, either. He's convinced that he's going to get out of this situation, which I don't understand. What could he possibly think he's going to do? We have video proof of him working with Deathstroke and ordering a man's death."
"You also have video proof of two people you essentially kidnapped since the only person authorized to detain individuals – only for a small amount of time without a trial, of course – is currently off world. With the anti-superhero propaganda going around and people's desire for something more scandalous than another accusation of villainy against Luthor, you're in a lot more trouble than he is," Len pointed out. Dick scowled.
Barry sighed, "I can't imagine what he could have possibly figured out. What did he realize that the rest of us haven't?"
"It was recent," Len stated, "Look into what new information regarding the case that Luthor could have possibly gotten in a recent time period and you'll figure it out. We'll look at it from our end, too."
"Right," Barry sighed again, "We'll look into that. Here, let me go ahead and transfer you the information I have on hand. I'll get you the rest later, alright?"
"Got it," Digger said a second later, before frowning and looking over at Len, "Dinner's almost ready and Mick'll skin us alive if we're late to Wally's homecoming meal."
Len barely resisted the urge to smirk at the sour look on Dick's face, "Alright, tell him we're on our way." He stood up without saying goodbye to either of the two superheroes, leaving Digger to scramble up after him. It was only when he reached the door that he turned around and said, "If either of you – any of you pull this sort of thing again, I will end you, Rogue rules or not."
"I'll help him," Digger growled.
Then they were out of the building and headed back home. Len smiled to himself. It really was home now, wasn't it?
Author's Note: This was going to have another scene, but it was getting too long, so I guess that'll be the next chapter. Thanks for reading!