AN: Be ready, people. This entire chapter is pretty much a 10k memoriam to our dearly departed Barry Allen. I love that some of you didn't even believe that Barry is dead for real. So, it's gonna get sad and messy – especially for Wally and Nightwing.
4. A Good Man
Batman and Canary arrived on the field in a plane. Hal had already flown off, leaving Nightwing behind. Batman examined the crime scene closely, picking up the knife Nightwing had used to stab the speedster.
"Whose blood is this?", Batman asked.
'Killer', Nightwing signed.
Batman put the knife into a plastic bag. Clinical. Precise. Detached. Nightwing steeled himself. He was a Bat now. He had been a Talon before. He could compartmentalize even when it was hard.
Nightwing followed Batman into the plane. He sat down in his seat, resisting the urge to draw his knees to his chest.
"Has someone called Wally?", Canary asked.
She looked at Nightwing. The therapist was right. Wally deserved – no needed – to know.
So, Nightwing took out his phone with shaky hands and dialed Wally's number.
The speedster picked up almost immediately.
"N?", Wally sounded worried, "I didn't expect you to call. I'm sorry. You know I love you, Babe-"
Nightwing made a sound, cutting Wally off. He tried to form actual words, but they had left him again. It irked him. Nightwing was supposed to compartmentalize better than that.
"Babe?"
Nightwing pushed the phone into Canary's hands.
"Wally, this is Dinah", she was using her therapist-voice, "Nightwing can't talk right now."
Nightwing listened to the call with his enhanced hearing.
"Is he hurt?", Wally asked.
"He is unhurt. This is about your uncle, Wally. He is injured."
"How bad?"
'Bad', Nightwing signed.
He kept quiet about the fact that Barry had been dead when Superman had flown him away. He couldn't be the messenger. Not to Wally.
"We don't know", Dinah opted for the more diplomatic answer, "We need you to come to the Watchtower."
"He isn't dying, is he?", Wally's voice took on a frantic edge.
Nightwing lowered his eyes. No. Barry wasn't dying. It had already happened even if the League didn't want to accept it yet. They would try everything to save one of their own and Nightwing couldn't fault them.
"Just hurry, Wally", Dinah said.
She stopped the call.
Batman landed the jet in front of the Hall of Justice. They zetaed to the Watchtower – Nightwing with Batman's permission. He was too numb to care about his persisting detainee status – feeling himself fall into a Talon's mindset. Observe. Do damage control where could.
They hurried through the Watchtower, entering the medbay. The entire League had assembled before the surgery room, grouped around the sad centerpiece.
Nightwing approached Wally. His boyfriend's eyes were rimmed red. Jay Garrick – who looked like he was barely keeping it together himself – had put a hand on Wally's shoulder. Iris was slumped on one of the chairs, her body heaving with sobs. Hal and Joan were helplessly trying to console her. The Lantern was ignoring his own shoulder wound.
Nightwing pulled Wally into a hug. The speedster sank against him. It thawed some of the numbness in Nightwing's chest. Made him want to break down himself. But he locked those feelings deep inside him.
"You saw him. You have to tell me he'll be fine, N", Wally sounded desperate.
Nightwing bit his lip because he couldn't.
'I not know', Nightwing signed.
"You always tell the truth. How was he?"
Nightwing tasted blood on his lip again. He had no choice but to tell Wally the truth. He couldn't give him false hope even if it felt cruel.
'Bad.'
"This can't be true", Wally shook his head, "He's the Flash. He pulls off the impossible all the time."
'He protect Hal and me from speedster. He a hero.'
"You're talking as if he's already dead."
Nightwing didn't reply. Didn't want Wally to know how right he was. Instead, he pulled Wally into another hug and led him to one of the chairs, pushing him down. He had to be a comforting presence for Wally now. Keep it together.
Nightwing met Batman's eyes over Wally's head. The Dark Knight was standing in the corner, his features unreadable. He held the plastic bag with the knife in his hand. His cape flattered behind him as he strode away from the medbay. Of course, Bruce would drown his sorrow in the case. Nightwing would do the same if he didn't have a boyfriend to comfort.
Nightwing focused all his attention on holding Wally close and drawing circles onto his back. Their fight was forgotten for now. Wally put his head on Nightwing's shoulder. He slumped against him, tired and boneless.
The room was quiet expect for the sobbing. It was an eternity where no one seemed to breathe. At some point, the doctors pulled Hal into the examination room despite his protests.
"He's my friend. I have to be there for him", tears stained Hal's cheeks as he gestured towards the doctors.
"You are heavily injured, Mr. Jordan", the doctor told him, "Mr. Allen would not want you hurt for his sake."
She seemed to get through to him because Hal allowed himself to be led into the examination room, his head lowered.
Whispers permeated the room. Some Leaguers asking what had happened. Nightwing felt some gazes on himself, but he ignored them. Wally was the most important. He wondered why the doctors were taking so long. Barry Allen was dead.
Nightwing internally scolded himself for this train of thought. These doctors were good. Heroes. Heroes tried even if their efforts were for nothing.
After an eternity, a doctor in scrubs exited the surgery room. Nightwing tensed the moment he saw the severe look on the doctor's face.
"How is my husband?", Iris jumped up despite her shaky legs.
Joan held her elbow.
The doctor's eyes softened: "I am very sorry, Ma'am. Your husband has passed away. The injuries were too severe."
Iris froze. She stumbled back. Joan helped her sit down onto the chair.
"No", Iris shook her head.
"We tried our best", the doctor said.
"THEN TRY MORE", Iris' body shook with anger.
"Mr. Allen didn't breathe when we got him onto our table. We tried for the last hour to revive him."
Iris soaked in a sob.
Wally freed himself from Nightwing's hug, zipping up to the doctor: "He has healing abilities. You need to try more, I'm begging you."
"Healing abilities cannot heal a deceased body. I am incredibly sorry. The Flash was a great hero."
"He is the best", Wally insisted.
'Wally', Nightwing signed, 'I be very sorry.'
Wally tensed, his eyes boring into Nightwing: "This isn't some trick you came up with? Another mission?"
Wally's accusation hurt. Nightwing forced himself to remain collected. He had to. Wally was emotional. He wasn't thinking clearly. His greatest hero – his family - had just died.
'I promise, Wally. This be real. I wish it not be.'
Wally scoffed: "Speedsters have a way of dying around you."
Nightwing flinched. Repeating in his head that he couldn't blame Wally. Barry Allen had spent months of his life thinking his nephew was dead. It wasn't far off that the tables could be turned. But did Wally really think so low of-? Nightwing shook his head. Control. Focus. He would fall apart later. He had to be strong now. Nightwing couldn't show weakness in front of the League. They would prey on it.
"The family can come see him", the doctor said, "I am asking everyone else to let them grieve in peace."
Iris, Jay and Joan followed the doctor. Nightwing stayed still. He wouldn't come inside. He had learned tonight that he wasn't really part of Wally's family.
"We need to know what happened", Canary said.
Several other Leaguers agreed. Nightwing nodded. He followed them into the briefing room, digging his fingertips into his palms. Control.
The Leaguers sat down. Nightwing nervously took a free seat at the end of the table. He tried not to think about who it would usually belong to.
'What want know?', Nightwing asked.
He met Batman's guarded gaze. The bloody knife was in front of him, unassuming in its plastic bag. Nightwing tilted his head.
Canary opted to translate.
"J'onn", Hawkman said, "Make a mindlink so we can see Nightwing's memories."
Nightwing shook his head: 'Not want.'
"Why?", Green Arrow's eyes narrowed, "If this is one of your schemes again-"
'It not be. I promise.'
"Batman?", Wonder Woman turned to him.
"I have no plans made with Nightwing", Batman said, "This time, I can swear."
"That doesn't mean anything. Nightwing has deceived us upon his own initiative and not allowing a mindlink is very suspicious", Hawkman said.
'Maybe I not want mindlink because I not trust you.'
The League flinched when Canary translated for them.
"My friend-", Kaldur spoke up.
'No, Kal. I not want these people in my head.'
Nightwing himself was surprised by how spiteful he acted. But having the League pick through his memories sounded very unappealing. He didn't need them to stumble over the disastrous Allen-West-Garrick-dinner. Or the leadership question that plagued the Titans. Or Nightwing's pathetic personal issues.
Canary started to translate again but Kaldur broke her off: "I understood well. I picked up more than a few signs myself when Nightwing was still on the Team."
"I won't invade his memories if he doesn't want to", J'onn said.
"You could", Hawkman said, "This is an extreme situation."
"As a telepath, it is my moral responsibility not to violate people's minds."
'Lasso', Nightwing signed.
Wonder Woman stood up: "I do not believe that you require it, but I shall use it for the peace of mind of my allies."
Nightwing nodded as Wonder Woman wrapped the golden band around his wrist. It didn't hurt this time because Nightwing didn't need to lie.
"What happened?", Superman asked, his voice shaky.
Nightwing signed what had happened on the disastrous mission. He framed it as neutrally as he could. Like a mission report. Not mentioning how disastrous that dinner had really been. How hurt Nightwing had been. It didn't matter now.
Once he had ended, the Leaguers exchanged tired glances. They looked worn to the bone and Nightwing couldn't help but feel bad for them.
"That speedster", Canary's voice was full of spite, "Who was it?"
It made Nightwing shudder. He had never heard Dinah be this enraged.
'Not know. He wear completely black gear. Black goggles. Not see his eyes. But he talk to me as if he know me.'
And he had been strangely tender. Nightwing still felt the phantom pressure on his cheek. It disgusted him that Barry Allen's murderer had touched him with such gentleness.
"He knew you?"
Nightwing relayed what the speedster had said. Neutral. Mission report.
"What did he mean he can't have him have you? What is this about? The Court?", Green Arrow asked.
'Not know. He mention something call C-R-I-M-E S-Y-N-D-I-C-A-T-E and O-W-L-M-A-N. Anyone know?"
"No", John Stewart said, "I can ask the Guardians, but I doubt that they'll know if it's multiversal in nature."
Batman spoke up: "That speedster – was he affectionate towards you?"
Nightwing narrowed his eyes wondering how Batman could possibly know that. He hadn't been eager to mention this particular detail. It would only be used against Nightwing. But Nightwing couldn't lie when asked directly.
'Yes', Nightwing didn't elaborate.
That phantom touch on his cheek. It didn't feel unpleasant. Nightwing felt disgusted at the touch feeling so normal. As if they truly were old friends – or something more.
The League exchanged worried glances.
"What is this?", Hawkman asked, "Some criminal buddy of yours?"
Nightwing bristled at the implication.
"We shouldn't suspect Nightwing when he voluntarily allowed us to question him", Canary said.
Hawkman scoffed: "It's obvious that Nightwing is keeping things from us. He may not be outright lying but we know that he can get creative with the lasso."
Wonder Woman said: "For some reason, this multiversal invader likes him. Maybe he has his own version of Nightwing in his universe."
"I know who he is", Batman picked up the plastic bag with the knife, "I ran a DNA-test on the blood."
"Why didn't you tell us earlier, Bats?", Arrow said, "My patience for all this secrecy has run out."
"You know who it was, Nightwing", Batman looked at him, "Put it together like I taught you."
Nightwing clenched his jaw. That phantom touch. The concern. The almost-playful exasperation in his voice when Nightwing had just kept asking questions. Hadn't wanted to accept platitudes. This person knew Nightwing closely. This person loved Nightwing. This person loved Nightwing enough to warn him against his master's wishes. Nightwing knew how powerful that was. He wouldn't have gone against the Court for anyone. No. Only for Jason and-
Wally.
'Not know', Nightwing signed.
A sting pulsated through him this time. The lasso unhappy with his lie and trying to force the truth out of him.
The lenses on Batman's cowl narrowed. Bruce knew that Nightwing knew.
"You know it", Batman said.
'I have educate guess', Nightwing narrowed his eyes, admitting it so the lasso would stop plaguing him, 'But I not trust myself.'
Nightwing cursed himself for the last admission. It felt bigger somehow than just this situation. Like everything hinged on it.
Batman crossed his arms: "The mysterious speedster is no other than Wally West."
Nightwing's blood ran cold as the hunch he had tried so hard to suppress was confirmed. He felt a deep-seated need to deny. Wally was good. Everything about Wally was good.
So, Nightwing insisted: 'Wally not be murderer.'
"Our Wally isn't - but the multiverse has infinite possibilities."
'Wally love his uncle. He not…'
Nightwing lowered his hands. He couldn't finish this sentence.
"Our Wally does", Batman said, "You know that I'm right Nightwing. You had the same thought yourself because you put it together like I taught you."
Nightwing pressed his nails into his palms. He didn't know what to reply anymore. Nightwing shook his head. Helpless. His head and heart at odds with each other. The phantom touch still lingered on his cheek. It had been too kind for a murderer.
"It would explain why he would feel affectionate towards you", Canary said.
Nightwing gritted his teeth: 'He do things Wally not can do. Break my grip by vibrate through my body. Wally not can do. Speedster be far quicker than Wally.'
"Nightwing", Batman's voice was firm, "Be logical about this. Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth."
Nightwing made an unhappy noise. He couldn't believe that B was quoting Sherlock Holmes at him. He had done it often enough during their training together.
"This version of Wally is quicker than the Wally of our earth", Batman said, "It's completely possible that he learned things our Wally hasn't yet – or never will."
Nightwing rubbed his temples. The lasso tugged at him. Fighting against his need to deny. It was just one rock in the mountain of evidence pushing against Nightwing's resolve.
He slumped forward and nodded. It felt treacherous. Entertaining the possibility that any version of his Wally could do something so horrible. Wally was so incorruptibly good. A shining light that inspired and illuminated Nightwing. His beautiful speedster.
"But if this version of Wally is protective towards Nightwing, why isn't he towards Barry?", Wonder Woman asked.
"We don't know what happened in this Wally's world", Canary said, "Maybe Barry is a different person there or Wally was never mentored by Barry at all but by someone more sinister."
"We only know that he has a Nightwing", Kaldur said.
"A Nightwing he feels affection for", Canary said.
Maybe other-Wally used to have a Nightwing – the thought shot through Nightwing's mind. There had been surprise in Wally's voice, longing in his touch. Fear when he had told Nightwing that things always ended the same.
Nightwing doubted that other-Wally would have reacted to him in this way if he still had a boyfriend at home. Nightwing stayed quiet about his musings though. It felt too personal to share with a League that didn't trust him. Only more leverage that could be used against Nightwing. To accuse him of being disloyal to the values that heroes should strive for.
"Maybe we can use this to our advantage", Green Arrow said, "Create a trap."
"And use Nightwing as bait?", Wonder Woman narrowed her eyes, "I know you are hurt from losing Barry. I am. But do you even hear yourself?"
"And how do you want to do this?", Zatanna said, "We don't know where other-Wally will turn up."
"Can we please not call this guy other-Wally?", Green Arrow said, "It's far too confusing."
"We'll call him Wallace then", Wonder Woman said.
The Leaguers nodded in agreement.
"We know a number of things", Batman said, "The energy surge and trail Barry and I examined must have come from the ring. If it functions like any other Green Lantern-ring, it must seek out a wearer."
"You think this Crime Syndicate sent the corrupted ring into our universe?"
"To corrupt someone from our universe", Batman said, "Maybe she serves a similar function to Wallace. A harbinger."
"It would be possible", John Stewart said, "Though I have never heard of such a corrupted ring."
Wonder Woman continued: "The ring takes possession of the woman and makes her wreak havoc in our universe. Wallace is sent out to scope out our world and to take the woman back."
'He say he look for weakness', Nightwing added.
"So, Wallace prepared our universe for the arrival of the Crime Syndicate", Wonder Woman said, "We need to be on constant alert. This is a code black."
"I agree, Diana", Superman looked worried, "But tonight is for mourning. We lost one our own. One of the best."
The assembled Leaguers lowered their heads. Nightwing bit his lip. He stood up, feeling out of place suddenly. Nightwing left the room, closing the door behind him. He approached the medbay, walking up to one of the nurses.
'I look for Wally West", Nightwing signed.
"I'm sorry", she replied, "I don't know what you mean."
Nightwing made a frustrated noise and typed into the notes on his phone: 'Where Wally West be? Still with Barry?'
"I assume you mean the young ginger?", the nurse asked.
Nightwing nodded.
"He left already with his family. They were inconsolable. What a loss."
Nightwing's chest dropped. He thought about going to Blue Valley again, but he would feel like an intruder. He would only create more stress for the West-Allens.
Nightwing made a thank-you-gestureand walked towards the Zeta-tube. The computer voice reminded him again that he was not authorized. Nightwing made another frustrated sound, his fist hitting the metal wall. This was starting to turn into a sick joke – similar to the rest of Nightwing's life.
"Where do you want to go?", Wonder Woman walked up to him.
Her eyes were red-rimmed. But she was a welcoming sign of kindness on the impersonal Watchtower. Last time Barry had been this sign of kindness. He had helped Nightwing with his zeta troubles. Shown compassion although Nightwing had made months of his life an utter hell. But this is what Barry Allen had been like. Always the greater man.
'Jump City', Nightwing wrote in his notes.
Wonder Woman nodded: "Give Wally my condolences. I fear that dark times will be ahead for all of us."
Nightwing bit his lips.
He typed: 'You think evil Wally can exist?'
"I have met morally corrupted versions of myself", Diana said, "We do not know what Wallace experienced on his world."
'He easily able kill me. He have all advantage on field.'
It hurt to admit. Nightwing had hidden when the speedsters had approached. Watched how Barry had pulled all the attention onto himself. How Barry had shielded and protected Hal. Like a real hero. All the time, Nightwing had crouched in the corn, waiting for an opportune moment to approach and slice the speedster's hamstrings.
It had meant leaving Barry to his own devices. Leaving him to get stabbed. The Batman in Nightwing's head told him that he had done right. That the speedster would have taken him down, too, if Nightwing had revealed himself too early. And then he would have killed Barry and Hal. Against a speedster in an open field, surprise was Nightwing's only weapon.
Even with his surprise attack, Nightwing was still lucky to be alive. If Wallace hadn't felt this attachment to him, he would have easily killed Nightwing.
All these tactical thoughts didn't matter. Nightwing had still failed. Barry Allen had been killed in front of him. Real heroes didn't let anyone die in front of them. A leader with a plan wouldn't have. Instead, Nightwing had been desperate.
Wonder Woman's face twisted in sympathy. She put her hand on Nightwing's shoulder.
"He did not kill you though. Apparently, he was able to feel love for you – or at least his version of you. It is the only thing that is giving me hope."
Nightwing chewed on his lip. He nodded at Wonder Woman in greeting and turned towards the zeta tube.
"Watch out for yourself, Nightwing. Apparently, Wallace felt like he needed to protect you from someone."
Nightwing's back shuddered. Owlman. He couldn't imagine who this person might be and he didn't want to. So, he left through the Zeta tube.
Leonard Snart spent his morning bent over a pile of files and blueprints. Captain Cold couldn't rest. He always needed to scope out his next target. The next big score. There was nothing that could get his blood pumping like a good heist and pulling one over the obnoxious speedster.
And their last heist had been a good one despite the lack of Flash. His Rogues had been like a well-oiled machine outplaying the Titans who had been thrown into complete disarray. The baby-team may have more fire power on their site, but Len knew the value of good teamwork.
Only one had disrupted the team. Axel had been the disturbance as usual. Len counted on Trickster to be the wildcard that threw a dozen curve balls – or rubber chickens – at Flash. But the punk had taken it too far this time. He was supposed to throw curve balls at the Flash – not Len himself.
That EMP had almost screwed it up for all of them. So, Len had needed to teach him a lesson. It was not pleasant, but it was necessary. Maybe he would get his head on straight after some time in prison. Who was Len kidding? Axel's head had always been in the clouds. No changing that.
He stood up from his desk, his shoulders cracking as he stretched his arms. Len frowned. He wasn't the youngest anymore, the decades of crime catching up with him. Lisa – his little sister – always teased him about it.
Len ignored thoughts of his own mortality as he left his office, to enter the living space. It was one of their many safehouses at the edge of Central City. They were laying low for a while after that successful heist in Jump City. No one had come after them especially after Len had gotten Flash off their backs. The other Rogues had never even found out that Len had talked with the speedster. They didn't need to.
No. The other Rogues were happy as long as they got their fair share of the money. The score was still located in the mirror dimension. Millions in cash waiting to be taken out once the situation had cooled off. It wouldn't be long anymore with Flash occupied.
Mick sat on the couch, watching some TV. Apparently, it was late enough for him to get his ass out of bed. Len snorted at Mick's chosen program. It was one of these recorded fires that people used for the 'cozy chimney effect'. Naturally, Heatwave couldn't resist.
"Favorite program, Mick?", Len asked.
"Shut up, Snart", Mick said, "A starving man needs to make do."
Len rolled his eyes. The pyromaniac always got like this when they were laying low and he couldn't burn anything. Len sat down on the armchair, his gaze searching for the remote. Maybe some hockey-rerun was on.
"Forget it, Snart", Mick clutched the remote close to his chest, "I'm not watching your stupid hockey games again."
"You don't even know what I wanna watch."
Mick scoffed: "You sure about that?"
Len crossed his arms, his eyes piercing through Mick. Mick ignored him though. The pyromaniac was the least intimidated by him – a side effect of a long… acquaintanceship.
"Mirror Master?", Len asked.
"Said something about checking up on Axel", Mick said, "He cares about the little twerp."
Len stayed quiet. Sam must be inside the mirror dimension. He had to be looking through a reflection that led to wherever Axel was being held. Sam was a sentimental idiot. It was a pain in the ass most of the time. But Len put up with it because Mirror Master provided an escape hatch like no other. He allowed the Rogues to slip away before Flash could touch them.
A whirring sound came from the kitchen next to them. It sounded like a blender. Mick huffed in annoyance. He turned the TV louder, not wanting to miss the crackling of the fire. Len kept an eye on it, vowing to find an opportunity for Mick to release his urges. The pyromaniac was dangerous when he was cooped up. He had burned down more than a few of their safehouses when Len and Mick had been younger. Over the decades, Len had become wiser to it, recognizing the difference between a Mick who could still hold himself back and one who needed to burn something. Currently, the pyro was moving into the danger zone.
After a while, the whirring stopped, and Len heard the clang of glass. Quiet steps entered the room. Lisa did everything with an elegance that Len wasn't sure where she had gotten it from. Not from their parents and certainly not from him.
She sat down on the couch, drinking a red smoothie. Lisa was meticulous about her diet. Always eating healthy. A remnant from a time when she had worked for her career as an Olympic figure skater. Len had been so proud of her. His little sister. The one who had made it. The one who was better than anything coming from their screwed-up family had a right to be.
Len had sacrificed so much to get her to that point. He had shielded her from their father's blows. He had brought her to the ice rink and picked her up several times a week. He had used up a dozen scores to pay for the lessons. Those lessons had become expensive quickly and Len had skipped more than a few meals when the spoils of his early petty crimes had not been enough.
Flash – that self-righteous prick – might accuse Len of screwing Lisa's career up but he hadn't. He had been nothing but supportive of her figure-skating. As her big brother, he had wanted to see her thrive – to show all those pricks what a Snart could do. Seeing her throw it all away for no reason was a kick in the balls. A spit on the grave of everything Len had sacrificed to support Lisa.
Too bad Len had no right to be pissed at his sister. In any argument between them, there was no way he could take the moral high ground. Both had lost the high ground ages ago.
And maybe Len was also a selfish bastard – he definitely was. Sue him for enjoying that his sister was a part of the team and that she wanted to spend time with him. It was the family business after all. And they had brought it to completely new heights.
Lisa held out her hand to Mick, silently demanding the remote. The pyromaniac scowled.
"Mick", Lisa said.
"Other-Snart", Mick glared back.
They had a battle of wills. But after a few moments, Mick sighed and handed Lisa the remote.
"You owe me, Other-Snart."
"You can have some of my smoothie."
Mick wrinkled his nose.
"Your loss", Lisa took a sip of her drink as she zapped through the channels and ended up on the news, "Let's see if they're still looking for us."
Len nodded in approval. Crime might not be his first career choice for Lisa. But she was a damn good criminal. Ruthless. Glider had a reputation that you didn't want to cross her. It would keep her safe.
Len frowned when he saw the anchor talking in an unusually solemn tone.
"-the Justice League has issued a statement on a press conference."
The footage cut to Superman, Batman and Wonder Woman standing at a podium. The rest of the League was behind them, their faces lowered. It looked as if someone had died. Len took note of all the Leaguers in attendance.
Superman spoke, his face unusually dour: "This is one of the hardest things I have ever done. I wish I didn't have to stand here today."
Len tapped his fingers on the edge of his seat. He waited for the boy scout to get to the point.
"-With a heavy heart, I have to say that one of our best – our brightest – has fallen in battle."
Len's fingers intensified their tapping. Flash was the only Leaguer missing among the ranks behind the Trinity. Len's mind told him that Flash had to be the dead hero. It only made sense. But there was a small stirring in Len's chest. A part of his body that he had long written off. That part couldn't believe it.
Lisa made a surprised sound: "One of those do-gooders dead, Lenny?"
"Whoever did this is an idiot", Len said.
When Len had formed the Rogues, he had made rules for them. A code they couldn't break. Killing a hero was one of those lines that a Rogue just didn't cross. It would bring down the entire hero community on them. The heroes might act all sanctimonious. But they became vicious if you killed one of their own.
No. This perpetrator was an idiot. Going only after money had kept the Rogues alive and out of prison. It kept them under the radar. Made the heroes stop chasing once the Rogues had gotten away. Heroes would always care more about human lives than cold, hard cash. That murderer would have no quiet hour.
Superman took a deep breath and said: "The Flash is dead."
There were few things that got Len to drop his unaffected persona. He had seen it all – survived it all. These news… They were unbelievable. The overexcited do-gooder who had been chasing Len for almost fifteen years couldn't be dead. It was impossible. The Flash had been the best of them. A force of nature that only well-oiled teamwork and obsessive planning could slow down.
But despite Len's doubts, Superman continued: "-The League is organizing a ceremony in Central City so that the public can say goodbye to a man who has inspired us all – a legend."
Superman told them the time and place. Len made a note to contact his associates. To ensure that this was the truth and not a ruse. It wouldn't be the first time a speedster had faked his death. He had the sinking feeling though that Flash had been too slow this time.
A yawn came from the end of the room.
"Hey guys", Boomerang scratched his bag in sleepy obliviousness, "Why the long faces?"
"Flash is dead", Lisa said.
She sounded as rattled as a Snart could. Not sad or mournful. Lisa would never feel that for a hero. But surprised. Flash had been a part of their lives for an eternity. Always the thorn at their heels that screwed everything up for them.
"Dead?", Boomerang grinned, "Holy hell. Get the beers. Those heists are gonna be so much easier now."
Len took a deep breath, ensuring that his voice stayed neutral: "We need to get some flowers."
"Poisoned?", Boomerang grinned.
"Normal fucking flowers", Len stopped tapping his fingers.
He looked perfectly collected on the outside, but Lisa threw a glance at him. She could always read his moods.
"Come on, Snart", Boomerang sounded dismissive, "It's not like we were buddies with the guy. It's hard to be that once you try to slice a guy's neck with a boomerang."
Len felt cold, hard rage arise in his gut. He may not have liked Flash but he… respected him. A good, hard-working man. So good that he had overcome Len's ingrained hatred of cops for begrudging respect.
"Damn it", Len muttered.
He thought of Barry Allen's excited face as he talked about the twins Iris was expecting. Len letting slip that he pegged Barry to be a good father – a rare show of sentimentality. A dangerous show of sentimentality. But Barry had been good. Had been happy about the comment instead of digging into it.
Len shook his head. Flash that idiot. He should have stopped with the hero stuff the moment he had learned of the pregnancy. There was a reason Len didn't do the heroism. It was thankless. Unpaid. Stupid. It got you killed. Heroes never came out on top in the world. They always got screwed over. Ready to sacrifice their own for the many. So stupid.
And Len couldn't help but feel an irrational flash of anger at the speedster. He would have been a good father – truly. Instead, Barry had already screwed his kids up by becoming a martyr. These kids were rotten now. Destroyed before they had entered this world.
Boomerang continued: "He's dead. That's a good thing. You know how much cash we can make with that pest gone?"
Len stood up and approached Boomerang. His hand curled into a fist. He smashed Boomerang in the face. The Australian's face fell to the side as Len hit his cheek full force. The other stumbled back but caught himself before he dropped to the floor. Boomerang blinked at him in confusion. He would get a black eye from this.
"Fuck you, Snart", Boomerang looked ready to lunge at Len.
But Len stood his ground and fixed Boomerang with an icy glare. Boomerang halted, his fist in mid-air. Thinking twice about punching the boss.
His eyes darted to Heatwave and Glider behind them. Both would back Len up if it came to a fist fight. And Boomerang knew.
"That's how you're playing it, Cold?", Boomerang asked, his bravado hiding his insecurity.
"Just leave it", Mick said, "No reasoning with Snart when he gets like this."
Lisa smirked, toasting her smoothie to Boomerang: "Go ahead. Take that punch, Boomer. I could use the… entertainment."
Boomerang huffed in annoyance: "As if you aren't eager to dance on Flash's grave."
Lisa shrugged: "Certainly sounds tempting. But I won't for Lenny's sake. It would mess with his little code. I still think it's some ODC thing."
"You gonna punch her, too?", Boomerang asked.
Everyone in the room already knew the answer to that.
Len shot a dirty look at the Australian before turning around: "We are going to that ceremony. No weapons. Ceasefire."
He returned to his office, slamming the door shut behind himself. Len sat down and looked at his blueprints. The lines blurred in front of his eyes. His thoughts were running like a speedster. It was against his nature. This frantic thinking. It made his head hurt. It pissed him off.
"Damn you, Flash", Len said.
He shoved the blueprint off the desk in annoyance. That particular heist had been in the planning stages for weeks. Len had been thinking through all the ways a speedster could sneak up on them. All for nothing now. Stupid Flash. Always ruining things for Len.
It was useless. Len wouldn't be able to formulate a plan today. He took out a beer bottle and opened it. He saluted to the empty room.
"Let's hope you're somewhere comfy now, Barry."
He took a long swig.
Wally spent the next day bundled up in his bed. He had returned to his dorm unable to stand the gloomy atmosphere in his parents' house. Since then, he had not set a foot outside of his dorm.
He was still in shock. Barry could not be dead. It didn't compute in Wally's brain. Barry had always been the pinnacle of what a hero could be. Loved by everyone. Kind to everyone. Even most of his villains had a begrudging respect for the Flash.
A dampened sound was close to Wally's ear.
"Hey", Josh waved his hand in front of Wally's eyes.
Wally looked up. He frowned, surprised at how close his roommate was. Had Josh been talking before?
"Got you some food", Josh put the carton of Chinese food in front of Wally.
"Not hungry."
"Come on, man. You haven't eaten all day."
There was indeed a hole in Wally's stomach as his accelerated metabolism protested. But just the thought of eating made him sick.
"Not hungry."
"I'm sure your uncle wouldn't want you to starve for him."
Wally's tone became biting: "You don't know my uncle. You don't know what he would want."
Josh rolled his eyes: "Whatever, man. You better clean up a bit before Dick comes around. He wrote me a message that he's visiting."
Wally frowned: "You have his number?"
"Yep", Josh said, "Exactly for cases like this one. I'm sure he's already written you a dozen times. You're just too slow to pick up your damn phone."
Wally frowned. He reached for his phone on his nightstand. Nightwing had indeed written him. Dozens of messages, all with a similar tone. Half a dozen missed calls that Wally hadn't noticed.
'I be very worry, Wally.'
'I know you be angry with me but I need see you.'
'I need know you okay.'
'Wally, I need hear your voice.'
'Please, Wally. Just write.'
'Wally.'
'I come over, Wally. Even if you not want. I just need see you be okay.'
It was overwhelming especially with the other messages that had flooded Wally's phone. Condolences. Messages of worry. The Team. The League. Artemis. Even Jay Garrick had texted him in his old age.
"Do me a favor, Josh and don't let him in", Wally turned around in his bed pulling his blanket over his head.
"Are you serious? He's worried sick the way he's blowing up your phone."
"I just don't want to see him."
"You two fight?"
Wally stayed quiet. There was this nagging voice in his head. This persistent doubt that told him that Nightwing was lying. That this was another one of his big plans. There was no way Barry had actually died.
Josh sighed: "You two are killing me."
Wally ignored him, drifting into an uneasy sleep.
Wally awoke from a conversation that grew increasingly louder and more upset. He kept the blanket over his head, hoping it would go away.
"-Look, Dick", Josh said, "He told me he doesn't want to see you."
"What mean not see me?", Nightwing.
"He hasn't left his bed all day. He hasn't eaten."
"Not eat?", Nightwing sounded alarmed, "He need eat."
"I know."
"You not do. His me-ta-bo-lism be very sensitive. He always need energy or he get sick."
"He's asleep", Josh said.
"Then, he better wake up", Nightwing's voice came closer.
The bed dipped behind Wally.
"Wally", Nightwing's voice grew softer, "I know you be awake."
Wally didn't react. A hand roused his shoulder.
Wally threw the blanket back, glaring at Nightwing: "Just leave me alone."
Nightwing's face hardened: "I leave you alone once you eat and get drink."
Nightwing looked at Josh: "Get Wally some water. Please."
Josh filled a glass and handed it to Nightwing.
"I'm not a child", Wally sat up.
"Then not act like it."
They glared at each other. But finally Wally yielded and took the carton of Chinese food that Nightwing handed him. He took the fork.
Wally glowered: "If I puke-"
"Then I get a bucket", Nightwing crossed his arms, "Eat."
So, Wally did. Bite for bite. And to his annoyance, he felt his body awakening again. Growing stronger after a day of stasis. He felt even better after he had emptied the glass and Wally hated it.
Nightwing hummed in satisfaction, putting the carton and the glass to the side once Wally was finished.
"Better?", Nightwing asked.
Wally simply glared at him.
"You be angry with me", Nightwing didn't sound surprised.
Wally stayed quiet.
Nightwing looked at Josh with a tilted head: "Can you-?"
"I'll let you two talk", Josh took his coat and left the room.
Nightwing waited until Josh's steps had subsided until he took off the glamour charm. The concerned look in his eyes was even more apparent now. It was tearing Wally apart. Still, he kept his arms crossed.
"You be angry with me", Nightwing's voice was quiet.
"You pulled this shit before. You made Barry think I was dead."
"I do. We do", Nightwing said, "And I wish we never do it."
Wally snorted: "You are a brilliant liar. How do I know you aren't lying to me right now? Maybe my uncle is hidden away in some safehouse. Is Bats in on this?"
"I wish he be, Wally", Nightwing lowered his head, "But he not. I see Barry Allen die."
Wally flinched at the bluntness of the words.
"How do I know you're not lying?"
"Because I love you, Wally. And I never hurt you like this. You must believe", Nightwing's hand twitched.
"You're not telling me everything."
"You be right. I do not. No one has. They – I – be scare that you not can take it. That it break you."
Wally frowned. Confusion replacing anger.
"I wish I not have to tell you this, Wally. But we promise be honest to each other. So, I be. I do what I suppose do as your boyfriend."
"Spit it out."
"I know who kill Barry. I see. I not want believe but blood test not lie."
"WHO?", Wally raised his voice, out of bed suddenly.
He would find that person. Tear them apart for what they had done to his uncle.
Nightwing still sat on the edge of the mattress, his face tense: "It be another Wally West."
"What?"
Wally's thoughts raced in panic, sorrow, anger. It made no sense.
"The League investigate mul-ti-ver-sal portal. Speedster from another universe come – evil universe. Evil universe – evil Wally."
"I didn't do this. I would never."
"Not you. Other Wally."
Wally paced around the room, his steps growing quicker, lightning building around him. Nightwing just sat on the bed. Watching him.
He watched until Wally stopped and collapsed into Nightwing's arms. Wally landed on his knees, pressed against Nightwing. Nightwing leaned down to hug him and pulled Wally onto the bed.
"I be very sorry, Wally."
"How?", Wally looked up at Nightwing, tears filling his eyes.
"I talk with other-Wally after he-. He know other-Nightwing. He be… affectionate. He spare me when he can easily kill me. I need time put it together. I not want believe. But it be."
Wally looked up at Nightwing through teary eyes: "That murderer touched you?"
"He not", Nightwing said, "Not really."
Wally shook his head: "I killed my uncle. I did it."
Nightwing put Wally's face into his hands, looking at him intently: "This not be your fault. This not be you."
"It's another version of me. It means that I'm capable of-"
"Not. Say. That."
"You know what people are capable of, N. I'm capable of killing my hero. I'm a monster."
"I know that decisions matter, Wally. I know that you be a kind person – a hero. My hero. And you never hurt Barry."
Wally felt himself deflate under the passion in N's gaze. His boyfriend's face swam apart in his tears. Nightwing pulled him close, allowing Wally to put his head on his chest. He allowed Wally to cry into his chest, carding his hands through Wally's hair.
"I hurt Barry when I made him think I was dead", Wally's voice broke.
Nightwing stayed quiet. There was nothing he could say to make the situation better. Barry Allen had been grieving for nothing in the last year of his life and it would always haunt them. Wally would always hate himself for it – just like he hated his other self for killing Barry.
After an eternity, Wally had cried himself out. He looked up, taking in Nightwing's soft features.
"Barry tell me something: He not want you be destroy under legacy."
Wally frowned: "What does that mean?"
"You figure it out", Nightwing's voice was firm.
As if he already knew what it meant but wasn't sharing it with Wally.
"The funeral be tomorrow", Nightwing said, "And public memory ceremony for Flash day after."
"I never wanted to put on that Kid Flash-costume ever again", Wally said.
"You not need go. Or we go as civilians."
"No", Wally took a deep breath, "I need to be there – for Barry."
Nightwing kissed Wally's temple: "I be there with you."
"I know", Wally smiled – the first time since Barry's death.
Nightwing smiled back. He tugged the blanket over Wally who put his head on N's chest again.
"I'm sorry, N", Wally said.
"You not need apologize-"
"I do actually. What I said during that dinner. I'll never regret being with you. And doubting you later."
"It be hard stand up to your relatives."
"It is", Wally said, "I don't like the person I become around my parents."
Nightwing carded his hands through Wally's hair: "Barry see that, too."
Wally took a deep breath. Legacy indeed.
The funeral was a private affair. Nothing but Barry's close family and friends. Wally felt numb the entire time. He couldn't look at his Aunt Iris who stood in front of the grave, tears on her cheeks and repeatedly reaching for her stomach. She muttered something to Barry's grave that was too quiet for Wally to understand but made Nightwing tilt his head.
"What's she saying?", Wally whispered.
"She be a fighter", Nightwing said.
Iris left the graveyard that day on her own. Wally left her to it. His aunt deserved some personal time to mourn. Her family would be there for her when she needed them. Wally did not say anything. He simply touched Barry's gravestone and left. Nightwing followed. Wally could feel his parents' disapproving looks on his back, but he didn't have the energy to deal with them today.
The Flash's memorial happened the next day. And it was so different from the funeral that it gave Wally whiplash. It was in the middle of Central City right in front of the Flash-museum. The mayor had built a stage next to the Flash's statue. It showed a smiling Flash waving at the crowd mid-run. The entire Justice League stood on that stage, looking somber. Thousands of people were crowding in front of the memorial and the neighboring streets. All wore red.
Wally stood on that stage in his Kid Flash-costume, the Team and Nightwing around him. It felt strange to stand in the Kid Flash-costume. Itchy. As if the costume didn't completely fit anymore. Wally shook his head. This was ridiculous. His body hadn't changed.
Nightwing had his hands folded in front of his body, occasionally nudging Wally with his shoulder. It was a comforting, little touch. But nothing to make the crowd speculate. They had decided to keep quiet about their relationship. Neither of them needed the gossip.
Jay Garrick finished his speech with tears in his eyes. He was the last one to speak after multiple Leaguers and the mayor already had. The first Flash and the only left. Wally couldn't help but feel bad for Jay. He kept surviving people that should outlive him.
Jay stepped back.
The mayor approached the microphone: "We have come here to honor the greatest hero this city has ever seen. A man who has laid everything on the line to keep us safe. A man who loved his city and everyone who lived in it. A man who believed in everyone in this city even if they made mistakes. These speeches today could just do a fraction to do him justice. Sometimes, silence says more than words. So let us now take a minute to-"
Sudden murmurs in the crowd made the mayor pause. Trepidation rose in Wally's gut. Nightwing tilted his head next to him. People moved aside, splitting like the red sea for a group of colorful people. Colorful people who wore red arm bands today.
The Rogues – with Captain Cold in front – moved through the crowd. Wally automatically looked for their weapons. Captain Cold was followed by Golden Glider, Mirror Master, Captain Boomerang and Heatwave. None of them wore their usual weapons though Wally suspected they had at least some hidden ones. The Leaguers shuffled behind Wally. Ready to jump into action.
The Rogues stopped in front of the stage. Cold looked up at them, his face unmoving.
He simply raised his arm with the red band and said: "No need to disturb a good man's memorial. This is Flash's day. We're here in peace. It ain't like there's anyone left to fight."
Cold looked at Glider who was holding a bouquet of white lilies: "Sis?"
Glider handed him the flowers. To Wally's surprise, Cold himself approached Flash's statue and squatted to put down the lilies. A hand on his weaker left knee. Cold remained in the position for a moment. Then, he stood up again. Snart's features looked tired, washed out. Wally had never seen the criminal like this. He looked like someone who had been in this life for a long time. And he was. Captain Cold had been one of the first villain Barry had fought when he had started out as the Flash. A constant, icy thorn in Barry's side.
Snart's eyes moved over the stage resting at Wally: "My condolences, kid."
He turned around.
Wally couldn't help but feel anger rise within him. Who were these people who had fought his uncle dozens of times to turn up here? They had made Barry's life a living hell more than once.
"What are you even doing here?", Wally raised his voice.
Cold stopped. He took a moment to turn around.
"A man died", Cold's voice remained in his usual unaffected drawl, "Payin' respects. And you're welcome by the way. I told the usual suspects to leave this memorial and the Flash Museum in peace or they answer to me. They'll heel."
Wally felt his face fall. He wanted to yell back at Cold that this wasn't true. That there would always be heroes in Central City. That Wally would- Would what? Kid Flash was retired. Same as Jay. Cold was right. Central City was without a Flash. The world was without a Flash.
"Have a good life, kid. No hard feelings", Cold turned to his Rogues, "We're leavin'."
They turned around, followed by murmurs of the crowd as they walked away from the stage.
"Shouldn't we catch them?", Wally asked – infuriated by Cold's lack of perceivable emotion.
It must all be a big joke to him. Well, it wasn't to Wally. This was his life crumbling. Everything he had believed in.
The Leaguers looked at Jay. He was the closest this city had to a protector now even if he hadn't run as the Flash in years.
"Sometimes you just need to let them go", Jay said, "Like Cold said: This is Flash's day. The Rogues are honoring it. We should, too."
Wally sighed. Unhappy about the decision. But there was nothing he could do. Some of the Leaguers had nodded at Jay's words, deciding to heed them.
Wally looked down at the white lilies. They looked like a simple bouquet. Nothing visibly wrong with them. He felt himself deflate. Maybe he was seeing enemies where there weren't any today. Nightwing subtly reached for Wally's elbow, squeezing it. Wally focused on the little touch. Allowing it to ground him while it increasingly felt like the world was leaving him behind.
Jason was awoken by booming jeers. He looked over the walkway towards the other cells. The supervillain prison had been wild ever since the Flash had been killed. It made Jason's skin crawl. Knowing that the entire prison cheered on the death of a good man. Jason had barely interacted with Flash. But the man had been more understanding towards Nightwing than most of the League until that damn undercover mission.
No one was more exhilarated than Jason's own cell partner. There was a mean glint in his eyes. He was sitting cross-legged on his bed humming in excitement.
"Good mood?", Jason asked.
"Just wait until I get out of here. That city is ours", Axel grinned.
Jason simply hummed. It made him feel cold – the bloodlust in Axel's eyes. He knew that the Rogues weren't much in the murder-business, but Axel was a thrill seeker. He viewed life as a game. Flash's death was funny to him. The final boss in the game eliminated.
"You should be happy, too", Axel said, "You know what a pest that guy was? Took the fun out of everything. Whatever crimes you have planned after-"
"I'm not planning any crimes. I'm reformed."
Axel rolled his eyes muttering about how boring Jason was.
"Axel, have you ever killed someone?"
"Nope", Axel shrugged, "Figured it's gonna happen someday."
Jason sighed. He climbed up to Axel's bunk sitting on the edge.
"We're not in a game, Axel. These are people's lives you are talking about."
"Who are you to lecture me?"
"You are right", Jason's voice was weary, "I have no right to lecture anyone. I have more blood on my hands than many people here – including you."
Axel crossed his arms: "So, what's killing like? Is it a rush?"
Jason closed his eyes. This talk brought up memories that shook Jason to his core.
"It is if you don't watch out", Jason said, "If you don't stop yourself."
Jason was reminded of the bloody warehouses he'd left in his wake. That evening in Arkham Asylum with Themis. The way they had punished the inmates to death. There was a moment when Jason had felt a rush. Absolute power.
"Why should you stop though?", Axel leaned forward, his body restless.
"Because you'll lose yourself if you don't. Your humanity – and that is something you can never get back."
Axel scoffed: "Only bullshit heroes talk like that."
"Cold has his rules", Jason said, "Even if he's not a hero."
"He does it because he doesn't want to draw too much attention to us. He'll ice you to death though if you piss him off enough. And then he's on my ass about a few bombs. Such a hypocrite."
"He's smart enough to know that he doesn't want to have dozens of innocent people on his conscience", Jason said.
"Whatever. Who is truly innocent in this world?", Axel asked.
Jason jumped off Axel's bunk. Axel's words reverberating in his head. Trickster's words were upsetting not because Jason could point at him from above. No. They were upsetting because Jason had been in the ditch with exactly these thoughts reverberating in his head. He could still end up there if he didn't watch out.
A guard walked along the walkway, handing out the morning newspapers.
"Hey, Hood", the guard pushed the newspaper through the slot in their cell and left.
Jason picked it up. The front page was a big picture of the entire Justice League and Team standing next to Flash's statue in front of the Flash-museum. A smaller picture made Jason pause. It showed Captain Cold laying down a bouquet of flowers in front of the Flash's statue, the Rogues beside him.
"You want the Rogues to get you out?", Jason threw the newspaper onto Axel's bunk, "Maybe you should act like one."
Axel picked up the newspaper. He looked at the picture with a frown. It was the first time since the announcement of the Flash's death that the grin was wiped off his face.
AN: I made myself sad with this one. I am so sorry, Barry. I had to do it.
My heart broke when I wrote Wally accusing Nightwing of staging Barry's death. Don't hold it against Wally. He's heartbroken. This part is also very much about Wally growing as a person. :,(
Also, Jason is having some revelations about morality by trying to teach a very dense Trickster. I really liked writing that part.
And the Rogues? I love writing this messy group and Mr. "emotions would kill me" Cold.
Next chapter: More build-up to disaster. You thought Barry dying was bad? The pieces are moving for everything to go to shit soon.