My Amo freaks out very suddenly. Agitated, flitting around the room, before it suddenly disappears in a flash of light.
Literally. A light flashes. And Amo is gone. The light fades out before flashing again. I don't know if it is the spots dancing in my eyes or if Amo's really gone, but I can't see it. I try to rub my eyes before remembering they're bound.
The light flashes one more time before a wail accompanies it, so loud my ears ring. The alarm wails when the light dies down, so there's always an overload of the senses. I wonder briefly if this is the PTSD dream of a Vietnam veteran.
Suddenly, the door swings open. In the midst of the chaos I don't notice at first. Then the light dies for a moment and I see the silhouette. It's a boy... and... is that a cape? What's the triangle behind him?
He comes closer, and I hear a soft, "Oh, no, oh, no..."
Help or harm? Friend or foe?
Dang. I'm out of alliterations. And I sound cheesy.
The light flashes, again. My eyes spot out again. The wail floods me after.
"W... D... lass... ?" says the boy. My ears are still ringing. The boy grimaces and withdraws something, but the light flashes again. When my eyes clear, my vision is darkened. The noise comes again, then the light, but it's not nearly as bad. Sunglasses?
"Is that better?" the boy asks when the light comes and the sound leaves. I hear him this time, and drop my head in a nod. "Great, let's get you out of here..."
He withdraws something else from the belt on his waist that I can now semi-see, raising it to my first arm. He fiddles with it, and the cuff releases my hand. It falls beside me, but I can't move it yet from lack of circulation and because I think something in my arm is broken.
He makes quicker work with the other cuffs. He says something.
I shake my head. His head tilts up to the alarm blaring and frowns. Then, almost as if just barely remembering, he pulls out another thing. He holds it out.
Hand shaking from lack of blood (from hanging above my head so long), I reach out before crying out. My right arm is broken, but my left hand is shattered. The boy doesn't hesitate, just reaches up to the side of my face and pushes two squishy things in my ears. The alarm is muffled greatly. Gently, the boy puts a hand under my left upper arm, urging me to stand up. When I'm unsteady, his other hand comes up to help support my other side.
So quick I barely see him, he goes under my left arm, bracing me with his right. Slowly, we hobble out of the cell.
"I know you prob..." His voice is overshadowed for a moment and he waits for the alarm to die down. "Probably don't trust me, but I'm with Jazz and Tucker. We're going to get you out of here."
"Don't care," I rasp. "Just out." I don't know how much he heard, but he keeps moving and that's good enough for me. I'm surprised at the balance of this guy. He's not too much shorter than me, but I'm probably heavy and I'm not helping him walk.
We round a corner. Down the hall there stands four guards. The boy jerks back, trying to get back around the corner, but they spot us. He leans me against the wall and runs back around the corner. I can't hear much more than a couple blasts.
I clench and unclench my right hand. It's starting to get feeling back, but since my upper arm is broken, I can't feel much beyond the elbow. I have the overwhelming urge to go to the aid of the boy, and I feel a surge of willpower. My legs stop shaking from exertion and I can stand on my own.
I only take two steps before the boy runs back around the corner. He slips under my arm again, but this time I walk on my own, only using him as a little support. I notice the guards are either unconscious or trapped as we hobble by them.
The boy knows where he is going; we take sharp and expected turns.
We enter a plush room, with a couple nice couches, a receptionist desk. And at least a couple dozen armed men. The boy shoves me sideways, out of the doorway. He takes a sharp blast that throws him back. He doesn't seem too hurt, though, as he bounces off the wall and onto his feet. He reminds me of... something.
Someone else darts around the corner at inhuman speeds, pushing the boy away again just before a wide ray of ectoplasmic rays hit the wall behind where he was. The blur stops near me, a girl in his arms with the longest hair I've ever seen. They both wear gray, and masks.
The blur has bright red hair and green eyes, with a super cheesy smile, goggles, and a full body jumpsuit with a lightning bolt on the chest.
The girl has blonde hair in a ponytail, a mask, a bow in one hand and a quiver on her back. Her midriff is exposed, followed by a utility belt, combat pants and boots.
That reminds me of something too. But it's too vague.
"You found him!" chirps the blur-boy happily. "Great. Let's get him out of here and then we can extract the rest of our team." He talks fast enough that it's between alarms, his voice almost as fast as his feet. I've decided the earplugs only block out the loudest of sounds, which doesn't make sense but I'll figure it out later.
The girl pulls an arrow from her quiver and nocks it in her bow. A bow and arrow... That's familiar too. What is this?
She drops into a roll, landing upright for only enough time to shoot her arrow into the room. The blur-boy blurs again, into the room, and the girl and other boy follows. Realizing I'm still against the wall I push off, trying to get to the room to... help them, I guess.
A sudden noise behind me causes me to turn, and I whirl around. Another girl and boy. Great. I identify them as friends because they're dressed equally weird to their friends. One is dark skinned and the other has black hair.
So familiar, so familiar, so familiar.
I nod towards the door as they run and the girl goes ahead and the boy stops in front of me. He talks, but it's during the alarm and it's lost on me. I shake my head. "-BIN!" he shouts. "Alarms!"
Only a few seconds later the noise and flashing cuts out. The relief is almost tangible, from both me and the boy in front of me. "I am Aqualad," he introduces. "We're going to get you out of here. How badly are you hurt?"
"Out of ten?" I rasp, almost rhetorically. "Pretty bad."
Aqualad smirks with a grimace, if that's even possible. Shouts continue from inside. "Stay here, and call for help if you need it." I nod and he runs in towards the fight.
I take out the earplugs by rubbing my ears on my shoulders until they fall, and my hearing is suddenly flooded. I can hear the strange teens talking with one another, snippets of orders and banter. Something about a Miss Martian and Superboy being held up by a psychic...
Psychic? We don't have any...
Suddenly, I remember. The psychic. She... she messed with something in my head. It's what started my degradation... She made me forget I'd seen her... What... What was her name...
It doesn't matter. She's dangerous. These people don't need my help, but these Miss Martian and Superboy people probably do. A small sliver of power leaks out of my chest and into my veins, enough to fly. I don't wait to rediscover my power of flying, I just jolt in the direction I know they are.
The White Room.
Of course, everything here is white. But the white room is the room where the pain happens, where it isn't white anymore.
I don't have time for fear of this place. When I reach it, I just kick it open. There are no locks. Nobody inside is physically able to escape.
There she is. The psychic. Black hair in a pixie cut, blood red eyes, young. She and another girl stand in a psychic battle, eyes locked and flooded with power. Another boy, Superboy, is slammed against the wall, fighting to be set free.
He and I lock eyes. One glance to the girl. Help her first, his eyes say.
I summon the single thread of power able to escape the confines of the neck brace. Into my hand. Channel it, pool it... And my right hand glows green. Somehow get my arm to move up despite the break, with some help from my left arm.
Aim. Fire. The kick back throws me a little, my arm screaming in protest, but the blast hits its mark. The pixie is thrown forward, her concentration snapping. Superboy is released and Miss Martian's eyes glow once more in victory as pixie falls unconscious.
A flash of memory lights behind my eyelids, a machine, octagon. Swirling green. A burning sense of curiosity...
Miss Martian and Superboy-if those are their names- make their way over to me. "Thank-"
She doesn't finish her sentence. Superboy gives a noise of warning just as a fire flies into my back and throws me rather violently into unconsciousness.
**Man, I wish Danny Phantom and Young Justice were mine, but they're not. They go to their respective creators.**