Disclaimer: DC owns the characters, and if memory serves Impulse was created by the great Mark Waid.
---Ready To Run---
Max had wanted to know. Bart said, "Yeah I guess, why not?"
Max had nodded. "OK then Bart, you go to the Black Sea, then San Franscisco, then London, Kathmandu, Gibraltar, Puerto Rico and finally I'll meet you at the Pyramids. I'll have a can of Zesti Cola waiting for you," he said with a smile.
That had made Bart smile. He had decided to be Impulse again a few days earlier... All those weeks of running lost, and it wasn't the running that he had felt so bad about. He had loved Carol, and then lost her. He had seen a virtual duplicate, one of his Scouts, get destroyed on Apokolips, and that was just too much.
What was the point of it all? He knew that the hero's job was sometimes a thankless one, but why did it have to be so painful?
"You sure you're up to this Bart?" asked Max, his face trying to conceal the worry that he felt for his young ward.
"100%, Max. I'm Impulse, running is what I do best!"
And that had been what had clinched it for him; all these things that he been struggling over in his mind. Running was what he had done best, and running was what he did best; Grandpa Barry had had the life of a hero thrust upon him, a chance happening of lightning and chemicals connecting him to the Speed Force. Bart on the other hand had been born connected to the Speed Force, had been born a hero. It hurt being a hero lately, but that was what he had been born to be; it wasn't right not to use this great gift of his birth, he understood that now.
Max was still frowning slightly.
"Max, I'm fine; these past few weeks have been really weird, but really, I'm OK now, it's time to get back out there."
It was only a half-lie; he knew that he still didn't have his nerve totally back. If it had been someone worse than White Lightning at the stadium he might not have been able to take them. What if it had been Inertia? Bart knew that a time would come when there would be a reckoning between them... But today's exercise was simple enough. Seven locations around the world. Seven paint bombs that Max had put together. Seven seconds. All he had to do was run to them and press a button on top to de-activate them. Simple.
Max was consulting his watch; "OK Bart, on your marks;"
-Bart opened his ring and changed into his costume-
"Get-"
-he positively strolled into the kitchen to get a glass of water-
"-set;"
-he assumed the runner's pose-
"G-"
Bart seemed to vanish, only someone as meta-humanly fast as Max saw Bart streak through the wall and off to the Black Sea.
"-go!" said Max smiling, as he too raced across the Atlantic towards Egypt, albeit at a slightly more leisurely pace than Bart's. After all, he didn't have as far to go.
---Ready To Run---
Max had wanted to know. Bart said, "Yeah I guess, why not?"
Max had nodded. "OK then Bart, you go to the Black Sea, then San Franscisco, then London, Kathmandu, Gibraltar, Puerto Rico and finally I'll meet you at the Pyramids. I'll have a can of Zesti Cola waiting for you," he said with a smile.
That had made Bart smile. He had decided to be Impulse again a few days earlier... All those weeks of running lost, and it wasn't the running that he had felt so bad about. He had loved Carol, and then lost her. He had seen a virtual duplicate, one of his Scouts, get destroyed on Apokolips, and that was just too much.
What was the point of it all? He knew that the hero's job was sometimes a thankless one, but why did it have to be so painful?
"You sure you're up to this Bart?" asked Max, his face trying to conceal the worry that he felt for his young ward.
"100%, Max. I'm Impulse, running is what I do best!"
And that had been what had clinched it for him; all these things that he been struggling over in his mind. Running was what he had done best, and running was what he did best; Grandpa Barry had had the life of a hero thrust upon him, a chance happening of lightning and chemicals connecting him to the Speed Force. Bart on the other hand had been born connected to the Speed Force, had been born a hero. It hurt being a hero lately, but that was what he had been born to be; it wasn't right not to use this great gift of his birth, he understood that now.
Max was still frowning slightly.
"Max, I'm fine; these past few weeks have been really weird, but really, I'm OK now, it's time to get back out there."
It was only a half-lie; he knew that he still didn't have his nerve totally back. If it had been someone worse than White Lightning at the stadium he might not have been able to take them. What if it had been Inertia? Bart knew that a time would come when there would be a reckoning between them... But today's exercise was simple enough. Seven locations around the world. Seven paint bombs that Max had put together. Seven seconds. All he had to do was run to them and press a button on top to de-activate them. Simple.
Max was consulting his watch; "OK Bart, on your marks;"
-Bart opened his ring and changed into his costume-
"Get-"
-he positively strolled into the kitchen to get a glass of water-
"-set;"
-he assumed the runner's pose-
"G-"
Bart seemed to vanish, only someone as meta-humanly fast as Max saw Bart streak through the wall and off to the Black Sea.
"-go!" said Max smiling, as he too raced across the Atlantic towards Egypt, albeit at a slightly more leisurely pace than Bart's. After all, he didn't have as far to go.
