Less Than Guilty

If I owned JL:U, college payments would be a little less daunting don't you think?

Notes: The thing about Wally's thoughts, beyond the general lack of punctuation in all respects, is that it works best if read really fast. I realize that if you read it too slow it kind of just seems…jumbled and disjointed. Runs smoother and is a lot less confusing if you just run through it. Hence the lack of punctuation. There are no pauses in Wally's thoughts. If I could do it all as one big paragraph without wanting to smack myself I would.

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Chapter Two

We're going down swinging

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Dick's apartment wasn't anything fancy but it had roof access and really what more could your typical hero want in life? At least that's what John was thinking as he walked down the dark hallway carefully towards the only light on in the apartment.

He had to admit he was a little surprised Blair had been able to lift Wally, let alone fly all the way over here with what had looked like a broken wing. But he'd done it, and gotten here faster than John had on top of that. They'd left Nightwing behind, not something John would usually go for but the younger man seemed to know what he was doing.

"Hit the light if you can't see." Blair said as he turned into a room. John stopped in the doorway and felt along the wall for where he assumed a switch would be. His fingers brushed over cool plastic and he flipped it up. Bright light flooded the room and he squinted for a moment at the sudden change.

When he could see clearly again he saw Blair had laid Wally on the bed and poking a finger at his side, which was an angry red color and had welts rising up. The black acid was gone and he guessed that Blair had cleaned it off already. John leaned against the doorframe, watching. Blair seemed to know what he was doing and far be it for him to mess with a guy who had abilities that boarded on the mystical.

John didn't get magic. Didn't like it, didn't understand, and tried not to deal with it when he could avoid it. Even drawing strange green energy from a lantern given to him by strange guys from a distant planet was something he didn't like to think about too heavily.

Blair straightened up and reached into the bedside dresser before tossing an unlabeled container to John. He caught it easily then looked back up at the younger man for an explanation.

"Healing salve. Just put that on the burn and he'll be good as new. Unless he's allergic to something in Dia venom, which would suck a lot since only one in every few hundred thousand is. I'd do it quickly, because if it sunk into his skin and starts spreading he'll probably die." Blair seemed almost annoying cheerful as he spoke. "I don't think it has but you know, better safe than sorry."

"Thanks." John said slowly, trying to gauge how serious he was. Blair nodded then slipped past him, feathers brushing over John's skin as he went.

"I'll be in the living room, attempting to pop my wing back into place." There was a note of pained amusement to his voice. "If you hear a thump I've just passed out from the pain."

"Maybe you should wait for Dick-"

"Fuck no. Last time I let him try to help I ended up having to re-break it so it could re-heal correctly. It was not fun and it takes weeks to heal if you screw it up." He leaned against the doorframe for a moment and John couldn't help but notice that his eyes were a little glassy. "Anyway, you, healing salve, Wally. I'll live."

With that Blair all but bounced away, completely unconcerned with what was going on. Either he was in shock, or he was just weird.

Somehow John couldn't even muster the proper amount of emotion to give it any real thought. He had, after all, dealt with stranger people. He unscrewed the lid of the container while walking towards the prone form of his lover. He frowned as the almost…fruity scent reached his nose.

He considered it for a minute then decided that, in the grand scheme of things, smelling like berries was better than being dead. He crouched next to the bed and dipped his finger into the cool gel then carefully began to rub it over the burned area.

Again, he couldn't even make himself be surprised when the flesh began to pale and heal before his eyes. Nothing really surprised him much anymore. The only thing that kept him from drowning in…everything was just not thinking about it.

Easier said than done of course. John was slowly, but surely, coming to terms with the fact that as much as he tried to tell himself not to think, he over thought a lot of things.

Wally whimpered, a soft pained noise, and John looked up, hand stilling. Nothing moved for a moment and he almost thought he'd imagined it when the redhead whimpered again, face contorting in pain. Wally's hand clenched and his entire body went stiff with tension.

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He was on fire. No, that was too simple a word for it… His entire world was nothing but heat, a burning white heat that seemed intent on trying to consume him. He couldn't remember anything before it started and he wasn't sure if it would ever stop.

He couldn't even really feel his own body anymore. Did he have one? He didn't know where he was and really wasn't sure if he was anywhere at all. All he knew was the blinding hot pain.

He was alone only…not really alone. Someone was there and, now that he knew someone was there, his awareness altered some. He felt touches, light deceptively soft touches but they were wrong. His brain chanted the wrongness to him over and over but it blurred behind the pain and the blackness.

He almost wanted to return to the pain, because the touches…they made him want to die. Made he want to scream and fight and they were wrong but touching him everywhere, worse than the heat even and he wanted it to stop. He thrashed, only he was bound by something he couldn't get out of and why couldn't he get out.

Sickeningly hot and wet breath blew over his skin and he arched up, seeking to get away from it and crying out as something sharp, but blunt, cut into his skin.

Someone called his name.

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Wally reasoned that maybe he's been screaming because a hand was over his mouth and he blinking blurry eyes up at a strange off-white ceiling. He was not in his bed or his room, how exactly he knew that he wasn't sure but he knew, and a kind of fear slunk into his stomach like a thick slime and he grabbed the wrist connected to the hand and dug his nails in and wanted it off

"Wally, calm down." Simple patient words. He blinked again, eyes focusing finally on glowing green. "Breathe."

Maybe if John didn't have his hand over his mouth he could do just that, a voice in his head snarked even as he drew in a sharp breath through his nose. He felt his pulse returning to something resembling normal after a long stretch of silence then blinked up at John, trying to communicate that he was no longer freaking out.

John pulled his hand away and rubbed at his wrist, looking very…contrite and something that seemed apologetic. "I shouldn't have done that. I just didn't think you wanted the entire building hearing you screaming."

"I don't." Wally wondered if his body was numb because he distinctly recalled being hit with some kind of skin melting acid and passing out but now he didn't feel any pain. "Sorry."

John shrugged and stood up, offering him a small girly smelling container. He blinked at it dumbly. John rolled his eyes then set it on the table and offered him a hand up. He took it and carefully sat up, half expecting pain to crash back into his senses. But he didn't feel anything.

Literally actually. His entire side had that tingly numbness going on. "Hey, John, I'm kind of…tingling here."

"Tingling." John repeated in the tone of voice that indicated he wasn't sure he wanted Wally to continue along that vein of thought.

"Um. Yes." He reached down and touched the area below his ribs where he recalled that ink-like acid hitting him. He dimly felt the pressure of his own fingers, but barely. It was all really…tingly. He needed to find a better word to describe how it felt.

John's fingers brushed over his own then prodded him carefully. He blinked at John but the other man's entire focus was on him. He looked down to see smooth, if not a little shiny, skin. In fact some of the old scars Wally had gathered since he started out as Kid Flash were gone.

Weird.

"Your friend's boyfriend is a mystic."

"Blair? Yeah I know that; you should see him when he really gets going…did he do that?" For some odd reason Wally didn't particularly like the idea of someone putting their hands all over him while he was unconscious. …okay, not for an odd reason but rather for a perfectly valid reason that made him kind of queasy to even think about when he was fully conscious.

Even though he was reasonably sure Blair was trust-worthy in that department if for no other reason than he probably wasn't having any problems getting laid at the moment. …And, of course, the fact that Dick trusted him factored in.

Only not. Dick's taste in people was more infamous than encouraging. On the normalcy scale the orange alien chick and the half-demon guy would have been far out for most people but for Dick it was about as close as he'd ever gotten.

Wally was proud to say that everyone he'd dated thus far had been human.

Though John had some pretty non-human traits at times.

John nodded towards the container. "That did it."

Oh. Wally nodded his understanding then sighed and raked his fingers through his hair. Suddenly he recalled why he he'd given up on ever having anything that resembled a normal life. Couldn't even go and see people without hell breaking loose and stupid nightmares and…stuff.

John's hand left his side and touched his arm. "You okay?"

"Fine. See, good as new. Better actually. I wonder what's in that-"

"Wally." Shit…John sounded serious. That was never a good sign. He glanced up at him, meeting John's steady gaze. Wally wondered if he was going to start asking questions now because…well, he didn't think he was up to any questions. Besides, that whole not talking about things thing they had going on was working so well.

Only not in the least.

Wally's denial didn't run as deep as some people may have thought.

"John I-" Wally was interrupted by a loud thud. John was silent for a moment then stood up and turned to leave the room, presumably to go see what had happened.

"Don't move."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

"I'm serious." Was the last thing John said before completely vanishing from Wally's line of sight. Wally sighed and stretched back out, pillowing his head on his arms. Of course John was serious, he existed in the land of the permanently serious.

He was going to give himself a heart attack that way, Wally thought a little sullenly. The only time he really saw John relax was when they were alone, which wasn't really all that often. Someone invaded the world every other month it seemed like and there was only so much time you could spend with a person when that kind of stuff was always going down.

That, combined with the times Wally went out of his way to avoid John…

Like right now. Under normal circumstances he'd been in his own bed, wallowing in his own overwhelming dysfunction and wondering what deity hated him so much. It wasn't that he thought John would think less of him, Wally didn't worry about things like that seriously, but that he had never liked the idea of having someone worry about him or try to take care of him. He wasn't a child.

He groaned, curling up and draping an arm over his eyes. He didn't like being weak or having others see him break down. Everyone in the League already doubted him, or at least it seemed like next to no one was inclined to take him seriously, and he didn't want to make it worse by having them know that he was actually as screwed up as they thought he was.

Because he was really really screwed up. It was becoming very clear to him.

Wally so didn't want to be screwed up. He'd already been there and done that. He just…didn't know. He couldn't just avoid the nightmares anymore, because they were coming more frequently and John had already seen them. He closed his eyes, blocking out the strangely bright light on the overhead light, and trying to think clearly for a change of pace.

Maybe he needed a vacation.

Or not. Last time he'd taken a week off shit had hit the fan directly after and there was no reason to go tempting fate. He just…had to continue trying to wait it out. Or something. Dealing. He had to deal with it.

Whatever the hell 'it' was.

Right now he wanted to sleep only, really, he had no interest in sleeping. He didn't want to wake up screaming again. That was really unhealthy and a serious blow to his ego. So…not going to do that again. It wasn't like he needed to sleep like normal people did anyway. As long as he ate and rested occasionally he'd keep going for weeks at a time.

He'd figured that out right after Sinestro had…well, when the nightmares had first come. He'd gone without sleep a lot for about a month. And then they'd stopped. He'd been good, really, and if not for the fact that forgetting was nearly impossible he probably would have done just that. It hadn't bothered him or plagued him and he'd quite successfully buried it under everyday stuff and world take-over foiling and League annoying and except for those moments when everything seemed to get so heavy, to push in on him and threaten to press the very life out of him because it was just too much…

Yeah. Except for those moments life was great.

Only now not so much.

The moments of crushing weight were more often and it was harder to just sweep over them. He knew John was noticing…hell, who couldn't notice? He was…moody. He was never moody. But he was. Sometimes he felt like he was spiraling out of control and all he could do was sit down and close his eyes and wait for everything to just stop.

And Flash waiting for things to stop moving wasn't normal behavior and when you weren't normal people noticed things and when they noticed things they started asking questions and when they asked questions they wanted answers…

Answers he didn't want to give.

To anyone.

He just…had to wade through this. He could do it. He was the Flash, nothing serious could stick to him…he defied angst to cling to him. Besides, he had the oh-so helpful advantage of being a hero. How many victims had he told that it was okay, that it wasn't their fault, that they hadn't done anything wrong? He knew all of that, believed it, and he didn't need to be told or consoled or reassured. He knew already, knew the logic behind it all. He had told himself all of that over and over again and he should have been okay, or at least something reasonably close to okay.

So why was he so fucked up?

God he was so fucked up.

It was just so…wrong. He was supposed to be a hero, a protector of the innocent and all of that fun fuzzy stuff and he couldn't even get himself together. He was supposed to be good at this sort of thing, putting himself back together when he was crushed into bits by the at times random insanity that his life had begun but he just…couldn't this time.

Maybe he needed more glue…

He snorted, or at least he thought he did. The world was getting kind of hazy and he blinked, letting his eyes slide shut once again. He needed a moment to collect himself or…he wasn't sure what exactly it was that he needed.

"You didn't fall asleep did you?"

Wally started, sitting bolt upright while trying to command his heart to crawl back down his throat, then looked over to the door to find John back and regarding him with a blank expression. "Not to my knowledge."

"Good enough. We're being 'summoned'."

Wally swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood, hesitating for a moment when the room tilted. John just blinked at him, lips quirking at Wally's annoyed glare. He walked over to him, pushing his hair back from his face. John touched his shoulder lightly then shoved his hands into his pockets with a sigh.

Wally closed his eyes for a moment as he felt the by now familiar full body itchy tingle of transportation. Truth be told he was glad; League business he could deal with without any thought…he could just run on stand-by for a while.

He opened his eyes and stepped off of the transport platform and followed John to where the others were standing. Diana glanced his way for a second then looked at the ground, biting her bottom lip almost anxiously. Wally titled his head off to the side; what was up with her?

J'onn has his arms crossed over his chest and was standing close enough to Bruce that had it been anyone else Wally would have wondered at it, but it was J'onn so…well, it was J'onn. He kind of struck Wally as asexual, like people's parents were asexual. You knew, logically, that they weren't but you were really a much happier person if you continued to delude yourself.

And, beyond that, it was Bruce, who Wally also had happily stowed away in the denial built 'asexual' box in his mind.

Gross.

Seriousness seemed to hover like a cloud around the assembled five and it made Wally very uneasy. His paranoia must have been acting up again; the many dangers of making friends with people like Question. He was even starting to suspect the Girl Scouts of less than savory behavior now.

"So, who killed who with what in which room?" Wally asked with cheerfulness he didn't feel, but needed to fake in order to hide how tired he was. Bone deep tired, where weariness gnawed at the marrow of his bones and sent an empty chill throughout of his body.

True to form Superman rolled his eyes. Wally relaxed, already feeling more at ease with his status of 'Group Idiot' back into play, at least for the moment.

"John's bosses called us." Hawkgirl said, looking at John with narrowed, almost suspicious eyes. "About Sinestro."

John blinked mildly. "Really? Why didn't they just contact me directly?"

"They tried. They seem to think you got them and never replied." J'onn spoke, voice accusing while still maintaining it's usual deadpan.

John's lips twitched in a way that made Wally kind of nervous. He took his role as Lantern too seriously to be amused by something. Or…at least he used to take it too seriously. Things were different now; John wasn't that painfully in control guy like he used to be.

He could lose it, if given the right motivation.

"I've been busy."

Superman scowled. "It could have been important."

John's fingers flexed in a way that screamed impatient to Wally, but apparently it only screamed that to Wally because no one else so much as moved. The other members of the League were strangely absent, in spite of this being the middle of the tower and usually crawling with Leaguers and workers alike. Wally could only imagine how much trouble Superman and Batman had to go through to get everyone else to be anywhere but here.

"Some things are more important." His fingers flexed again and Wally was torn between the overwhelming urge to blush and the equally overwhelming urge to kick John. Hard. Like it was his fault John hadn't felt the urge to answer the 'intergalactic phone' or however it was he talked to the bigheaded dudes.

He settled on blushing, since violence was frowned upon (Mostly by Batman, oddly enough), and looking intently at the ground.

"They seemed to think that your actions against Sinestro were out of vengeance, not duty." Superman continued as if he hadn't heard John speak, which was impossible because he was Superman and could have heard John if he was whispering somewhere on Mars. "They wanted us to…speak on certain things, which we declined to do. We don't want to get between you and the Guardians John-"

"Don't." John cut Superman off while glancing sideways at Wally, who felt sick all of a sudden. Sinestro was apparently out there, talking about things that shouldn't be talked about, ever. John's hand brushed his own before the man pulled away and headed in the general direction of the control room. "I'll handle it."

Funny, Wally wasn't really sure whom John was talking to when he said that: the others or him. Decided it was best not to think about it because apparently the older man had a plan of some sort and that just made him really…wary.

"John-" Superman started but only got a dismissive wave in return. There was a moment of almost strained silence before Wally could feel all eyes turn to him. He swallowed and looked up, trying to force a goofy smile into place.

He had this strange feeling it wasn't working. Damn. What a time for him to be too tired to lie properly. He wasn't ready to try out that 'honesty' thing with himself, let alone anyone else.

"So. Anything interesting happen while we were gone?"

Diana frowned at him, a battle clearly being waged behind her eyes. Finally she let out a breath. "Are you okay Wally."

It wasn't the words or the tone or fake bright smile that Wally had perfected in his teens, or even the sad look in her eyes. It was really the flash of concern in Hawkgirl's eyes combined with the subtle wince from Batman plus all of the aforementioned things that let Wally know that they all knew.

He felt an inexpiable spike of anger and glared in the general direction of Batman and Superman, both of whom looked as uncomfortable as Wally had ever seen them. He looked back at Wonder Woman and then over at Hawkgirl, who was gripping the handle of her mace a little tighter than was necessary and looked for the life of her like she just wanted to crush something.

Wally understood that.

He wanted to hit something. Really just…wail on something and just keep swinging until whatever was unlucky enough to be his target was reduced to rubble, was itching to just punch as hard and as fast as he could until there was nothing left and use his power in a way he normally didn't, for fear of…well, just fear. Wanted to feel something break under his fists. Wanted to let everyone know just how angry he was that he, and his 'problem's were the topic of anyone's fucking conversation when his problems weren't anyone's concern except his.

He gritted his teeth, anger welling up inside of him and crashing against his seams and begging to be released. It burned and he burned and just…seeped. Crawled, pulled, consumed and there was just this anger, rage, that probably didn't even fit the situation and had come surging out of nowhere.

Wally ran.

Not so much to escape any questions as to keep from bubbling over, plus it always made him feel a little better. In the safety of his own quarters he happily left a large dent in the wall and heard the morbidly satisfying crunch on his own bones before he just sat on the floor and let the anger give way to the tiredness he'd felt before. In a matter of seconds he felt as if the anger, which had seemed so powerful just a minute before, had never even existed.

Just like that. On and off like some kind of light switch in the hands of a bored and hyper child who had always been told not to touch.

He cradled his hand, considering the slowly swelling fingers, then leaned back with a sigh.

Funny that it didn't really hurt.

They had to have some kind of medication for this. They had medication for everything else, why not this as well?

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Cherre: Wally is horrifically abused, mostly by me, because it's fun. Not kidnapped, just maimed a little bit. He's better now, I suppose… Crazy and dysfunctional, but better.

Mambo: The ungodly amount of snark are what keep me writing, to be honest. I sincerely doubt I can ever stress this enough, but it's fun to write this stuff and that's why I do it.

Ellen: Well, in a purely factual manner, the squid thingies are from Pittsburgh. I have it on pretty good authority that they followed Blair. Things between Piper and Don worked out, as far as I know anyway. Something to ponder over later perhaps… anyway, yeah. It's no real stretch to think that J'onn has a sick sense of humor when you really think about it. He's always watching, making cryptic comments, and smirking. It's creepy. A lightening bolt? That's certainly something to consider…

Mechante: Aww, I'm glad you liked J'onn's POV so much. I put an unusual amount of effort into it, to be honest. Wally's just barely walking the edge. He keeps slipping as he walks, you know? Any chapter now he's just going to plummet, I can feel it…

Astalder: Sinestro, in all his wicked goodness, is not mine. He's an actual DC character, known for being an enemy to Green Lanterns everywhere. Later on I'll get into the fact that's he is a legitimately bad dude, in spite of turning into a wuss when John confronted him. The other story 'You and I Got Something' is on my other profile 'Dimitrit'.

Aiteane: I was on your list but you don't remember why…intriguing. Than again, I'm easily amused…

Scari: Yes, it was Papa Roach. All of my chapter titles come from songs and it always makes me grin when someone can identify one (or more) of them.