Legacies: A Young Justice one-shot/drabble collection

Rush
When he runs, he doesn't want to stop.
Word Count: 954
Pairings: None
Rating: K+
Notes: Wally West and the Flash family in general hold a special place in my heart. Just saying.
This does draw a lot of elements from the comic books, especially "The Flash: Rebirth" but should be pretty easy to follow.
I do admit though, I feel a lot better after getting a Wally-centric shot out. :D

Disclaimer: See chapter one

The goggles go on last; they always do. He has no particular explanation, no particular reason for it; he's just done it that way since the beginning. They rest comfortable on the top of his head as he snaps them on. Suit, gloves, boots, goggles. That's how it's been since the day he became Kid Flash.

Wally observes himself in the mirror. He's supposed to meet up with the Flash, his Uncle Barry, in a bit for patrol, but he isn't as quick to leave the house as is usual. It's rare for Wally to take in his reflection, always being on the move and he wants to indulge himself just this once.

Besides, Uncle Barry is notorious for being late.

There is no significant difference between Wally West pre-accident and Wally West post-accident. He's still got that wild red hair, those mischievous green eyes, the hundreds of freckles, and a mouth that lands him in trouble with an attitude to match. He's grown like any adolescent boy should, appetite included. He studies hard, works hard, and goofs off like the best of them on any given day of the week. Maybe he's a bit brighter when it comes to math and science, but he also struggles in certain classes like the other high school students.

But Wally knows that the changes in him aren't visible, because they're not completely physical. He actually prefers it that way. Becoming Kid Flash was the best moment in his life thus far, and becoming part of the Young Justice is somewhere on that list of great moments. Hey, he's had other milestones in his life and they take importance over the YJ in his memories. There's a quiet sparkle evident in his eyes when he's in costume, an almost undetectable confidence about him when he's Kid Flash. Sure, he's frustrated when he has to downplay his abilities to dissociate Wally West from Kid Flash (he doesn't care who you are: getting pelted by rubber red balls hurts), but he understands why and he accepts it.

Because being the ordinary sophomore in high school is a small price to pay for the gift he has been given. Including access to the speed force.

Wally calls out a brief goodbye to his parents and he's out the door and on his way to the meeting point before they can so much as even formulate a reply.

There is a silent energy that thrums as he runs and he lets out a relaxed breath as his feet pound on the ground and the world whirls by him. Even at this speed, he can discern every detail of the scenery that he's passing by and if he really focuses, he can barely make out the ripple in space that leads to the speed force.

When he runs, he feels the energy leak from the speed force and into him. That energy is in every step he takes, in every beat of his heart, and in every fiber of his being. He is addicted to this energy and he draws and craves his power from it. Ever since being first struck by lightning, he has been connected to the speed force and he can't imagine a life without it, refuses to even try.

Wally can't explain the speed force, it's before his time. That is Uncle Barry's legacy, because even Jay Garrick, the original Flash, didn't have it. But Wally doesn't have to explain it because he understands it. He understands the fact that the speed force transcends time and space and is all of time and space. He understands that he is one of the lucky few, a speedster, who can say that he shares a connection with the speed force. That is why he rejects magic, because if the speed force is everything, and magic has no connection to it, then magic is nothing. The scientist side of him, the logical side is put to rest when it comes to this energy; the speed force is what helps define those like him, those who run.

Because when he runs, when that connection is opened up to him, it makes him feel complete, whole. Like nothing he's ever imagine and experienced. And that's why he runs, because to lose that feeling is like losing a part of him, part of who he is and it hurts. When he's not running, all he can think about is that energy, that feeling of completeness. And when he is running, all he can focus on is how fast he can go, how far he can push himself before he becomes a part of that energy. It doesn't scare him; he's ready to embrace it.

He skids to a stop at the meeting point and allows himself a moment to catch his breath. Wally isn't exhausted; this quick commute is barely a drop in the bucket of what he and the Flash (not Uncle Barry while in costume) will run on a daily basis. The moment is to allow his heart to calm down, to let the excitement in him quell slightly. He is here as a professional, or as professional as a teen 'sidekick' can be.

A nearby clock chimes and he smirks to himself. The Flash is late. Another few seconds pass by and a red blur stops next to him. "What are you grinning about?" The Flash asks, and behind the opaque eyes, there is a twinkle in blue eyes.

Kid Flash snaps on his goggles, the excitement in his own eyes hardly dulled by the protective eye gear. "I'm just itching to run."

They both are, because they feel that call, can hear it. And they're ready and willing to respond.

Review?

.chary