Prophecies Fulfilled: Chapter 9
Nov. 23rd, 2007 01:29 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
shankieThis chapter brought to you by old school rap and the J.C. Penny catalogue.
Prophecies Fulfilled
Bruce/Wally, R for bad language, violence, angst.
When Wally's powers misfire at the worst possible moment, he comes to realizes there might be something to Bruce's paranoia.
Chapter 9: A Damsel in Distress
The echoing sound of Wally’s heels clicking on the wood floor in the middle of the day made Bruce raise a curious eyebrow. It also made him wait at the bottom instead of going up as he’d meant to, the sound changing to carpet-muffled footsteps. There was nothing quite like Wally’s legs, in heels, walking down the stairs.
Wally came into view, one hand gliding over the banister, the other rooting through a silver-sequined purse. He’d been going with strawberry blonde wigs recently, this one all pinned up with pearl hairpins and a few loose curls. A good idea, as it suited his complexion, yet made him look even more different than himself. Brought out his eyes. A teal skirt’s hem clipping around his lovely calves as he carefully descended the staircase, unaware of being seen. Most men had thin calves compared to a woman, but Wally’s were shapely and defined with muscles so perfectly accentuated by sheer black hose.
The shoes were new. Bruce had seen them on patrol, in a window, and knew Wally would like the look of how they rose just above his ankles, lacing up the back.
He could be like an overgrown frat boy sometimes. It made Bruce smile.
Wally paused on the landing, flipped open a compact and smacked his lips together in front of a mirror, checking his makeup before snapping it back shut, shoving it back in the purse. He looked up then, saw Bruce watching him at the base of the stairs, and smiled wryly.
“Would it be too possessive to ask where you’re going?” Bruce asked, going to the coat rack for the green knit shawl. Wally turned slightly, grinned as he let Bruce wrap it around his shoulders.
The heels made Wally a bit taller than Bruce, which seemed to be a benefit he always enjoyed.
“If I don’t tell you, will you just have me followed?” Wally grinned and didn’t seem bothered in the least by the possibility. He moved easily between loving and hating Bruce’s sense of caution. “Have I ever mentioned really not liking how uncomfortable tucking is? This is going to be awful once I turn into a walrus.”
Dodging Bruce’s question with all the skill of a pro, Wally batted his dark eyelashes and pouted, ever so slightly. It was much more effective when he was wearing lip gloss, Bruce had to admit. Pushing the issue wouldn’t do much good, as it was. “You’re not going to turn into a walrus,” Bruce assured him, breathing in the smell of gardenia.
Wally threw his head back and made this awful, loud sound. Apparently mimicking the animal, though it came out all warped and almost alarming.
“That sounded more like a beached whale.”
“Oh great. That’s a much better image.”
“Stay.” Bruce held Wally’s hips, loved how his muscles felt under silk. “I want to make love to you.”
“Of course you do,” Wally whispered, this sultry sort of voice. Very close. Just a little taller than Bruce. “But I have to get out of the house. I’ll be back.”
Wally gave Bruce a quick kiss, then continued on his way to the garage. Shaking his ass just enough to make it clear he was being a cocktease for his own pleasure. “Don’t worry, I’ll come back and take a nap before we have to go out. I won’t fall asleep on you again!” he called over his shoulder, cheekily blowing a kiss as he rounded a corner and only the sound of the heels was left.
Bruce crossed his arms over his chest and frowned at himself for the thoughts he was having.
One doctor insisted that Wally return to sleeping all the time, even if he had to be drugged. It was the safe suggestion that Bruce considered, then decided against even bringing up. Not yet.
But it was so tempting. He liked having Wally ‘locked up in his drafty castle’ as terrible as it sounded. It was safer that way. But. Things were going well. The healthy glow had returned to Wally’s face, energy back in his steps.
He was going to be a father. To children that hadn’t been brought to him through death and violence, but love. As much as he loved the boys, and even Bart in his lingering grudge, the prospect was so staggering he stood in the front hall for a good long time just thinking about it.
The euphoria shifted into guilt as he remembered Jason. The child he never had a chance to raise. There was fear there, too. Knowing firsthand what Jason was capable of, the black hatred twisting his soul.
Did Talia know who he was, that night in Cairo? Had it been even before Batman’s own birth that R’as had sights on him? He wasn’t sure if the situation would be made easier or more difficult, to know if he’d been manipulated.
She’d worn a white silk veil over the bridge of her nose, those exotic eyes so dark in the light of the desert stars. And he’d not said a word when she didn’t take it off, the kisses feeling like stolen things, the allure of a mask already in his mind.
The bitch.
The Jaguar roared down the front drive, bass from the stereo audible even from inside, and Bruce had to chuckle and let him go, deciding against any sort of nosy intervention for the time being. He’d promised Wally he wouldn’t.
But it was damned hard not to act.
* * *
Despite his newfound vocabulary of fabrics, clothing styles, makeup, and accessories, Wally had never once gone shopping for Angie. Relying on the magically appearing wardrobe had been easier, because, as he was so often reminded by so many people, his own taste was generally questionable.
He kept this in mind when the bright orange mini-skirt had momentary appeal, and decided Bruce would have something to say about chunky Lucite bracelets, even if girls on MTV seemed to like them. Not that he should really be shopping for clothes that weren’t going to fit in another week, anyway.
The real goal was to buy maternity clothes for himself, because if he let the magic ones keep appearing they’d all be... fancy. Fancy clothes he liked, but always made him a little worried about staining something. Never felt entirely comfortable, but the more Angie became an actual person instead of just a cover story (and a good excuse for kinky sex) he realized she was never entirely comfortable with expensive clothes and the mucky-mucks if he wasn’t. Huh.
There wasn’t really anything that Wally would call ‘casual’ in her wardrobe.
Being Angie did, however, feel powerful and glamourous. It didn’t matter if she parked in a no-parking zone or made a fool of herself or acted like the Queen of Gotham. She was Bruce Wayne’s fiancee`, and that made everyone who recognized her fall all over themselves for what she wanted. Or at least, Wally could act like that if he wanted to.
Wally decided that ‘Queen of Gotham’ was an excellently awesomely perfect title because it would be the biggest in-joke of his life. But as ever, he decided it would be better to keep the cross-dressing side of him on the down-low.
He laughed and finally worked up the balls to walk in the Baby Boutique, where a bell jingled merrily as he opened the door, and the register girl immediately recognized Angie. Wally could tell when it happened now, not that it actually did often; people would get a look like they were meeting the Flash, only with dollar signs going ‘ca-ching!’ behind their eyeballs. She was cute in a way that made her either a cheerleader or just naturally full of zing and pep or... something.
“Hi! Can I help you?” She smiled so wide it threatened to split her face open.
“I’ll let you know.”
“Okay! Just let me know, I’ll be right here, anything you need!”
“Thanks.” He smiled, waited until he’d turned into a rack of clothes to snicker.
It was easier, anyway, being Angie during the day. No corsets for slinky dresses, not that he could wear one of those anymore, anyway. Just the same, he thought a blue shirt with a laced-up back was nice...
The bell rang, and Wally glanced over his shoulder. It was a guy looking around like he was lost. Huh.
Wally wandered over to the skirts, ran his hands over the materials. How the felt was more important than how they looked, but most of these were pretty hideous, he thought. Maybe he was wrong.
His hand froze as he felt something hard pushed into the small of his back. “Don’t make a sound, Miss Hastings.”
Was someone trying to rob him? In a maternity store?
“Turn around and walk out, nice and easy.” A kind of nasally voice. Wally hated this guy already. “Do as I say, don’t make a fuss, and I won’t shoot you. Alright?”
Could he stop a bullet from a gun at point-blank range?
Wally started to slow time, but he felt something was wrong as soon as he tried to tap the Speed Force. A wrong kind of ache all over him, so he just nodded. “Alright.”
The man kept the gun, likely hidden in a bag or something he couldn’t see, smile and acted like they knew each other. Said a few things, but Wally wasn’t paying attention, just alarmed that his stomach still hurt. This sore ache that was a lot more scary than some thug with a gun.
They went out to where a car was waiting; right, he was being kidnapped. Or maybe some mobster wanted to talk to him, was that how it worked?
At any rate, the guy never took the gun away from him, and Wally didn’t dare use his powers. He started to think rationally and looked at the driver; talking to someone on a cell phone. The bullet didn’t matter, he could disarm the guy... what was he thinking?
Anyway, he decided to go along with it for the time being. If there were other guys involved, he’d like to get all of them at once. Did he remember to bring his com-link?
Was something wrong with him? He felt dizzy and was almost glad to sit down in the back of the car. The guy with the gun pushed him over, got in, slammed the door, and they sped away. Should have figured this would happen. How many times did Alfred say he was kidnapped? Twenty?
Definitely had to get these guys. All of them.
“So I’m being kidnapped, right?” Wally rubbed his stomach and didn’t let the pain show. It wasn’t getting any worse or changing, it was like a pulled muscle.
Athletes and crime-fighters alike were familiar with different kinds of pain; as long as it didn’t get worse, he didn’t have to panic.
They were fine, he was fine. The girls were tough, just like their father, and it would pass.
The kidnappers didn’t answer him. Professionals. Or under good orders.
Or just assholes.
Guy with gun threw a black blindfold at Wally. “Put it on,” he growled. “Or I’ll drug you and see what’s under your pretty skirt.”
Wally picked it up off his lap and looked at him in alarm. Did he know who Wally really was... or was he threatening to rape Angie? “You won’t touch me and live to tell about it,” Wally told him calmly.
“I’m sure, bitch, now do it.”
“Jerk,” he muttered, and did it. Guy with gun checked it, of course, but it didn’t really matter.
Then another scary sort of reality poked up it’s head. If he used his powers, that might be bad. The sort of thing that might end up in newspapers as an attention-grabbing piece of famous-people gossip.
BRUCE WAYNE’S SUPER-POWERED GIRLFRIEND SAVES SELF FROM KIDNAPPERS
ALSO A MAN
Wally envisioned the headline and sighed. Whatever. They’d never know what hit them.
Assholes. What Wally really needed to do right now was get to a doctor, but his powers still felt like... trying to hang onto a live wire. One of the big ones, hanging out of the side of a sub station.
System overload. Couldn’t do it, and trying drained him like a battery going dead.
He’d just let himself be kidnapped. Who did that?
A cocky bastard trying to prove a point, that's who.
Who was he kidding? This was exactly what Bruce was trying to tell him. He was helpless now and had to accept it or get in big trouble. Like this.
They didn’t go far, somewhere inside the city. The car stopped and he was urged out, the gun still uncomfortably close. Wally tried to hear or smell something but nothing really stuck out.
This sucked. He had passengers that he couldn’t risk by doing something stupid, or he would have. Stupid ideas worked often enough. But. Had to be careful.
No, he’d definitely forgotten the com-link in the bedside table. Still used to never going anywhere or having a reason for it.
Guy with gun urged him down a set of stairs, holding the gun firmly against his back. It was now or never.
He grabbed onto the live wire and actually screamed when he pulled off the blindfold and disarmed the guy formerly holding the gun in a smooth motion. Strike with the other hand at the right angle. Like riding a bike.
Until he almost passed out. It felt like his body shorted out.
Nausea and dizziness hit immediately, and the other guys were ready to shoot, then were catching Wally from falling down the stairs after the first guy. Things were moving really fast, the speed gone. Only a second, and it hadn’t been enough time.
He had this weird memory of Bart re-telling his defeat of Metallo as they carried him down the stairs. Having seen it himself, how the robot body just went limp and still after the power source was torn out. Trapped in his own body, unable to even see or feel? That was awful. Terrible.
Wally blanked for a while, until he came to his senses and Guy With Gun trying to give him water, tipping the glass against his lips and telling him to drink it.
“No,” he said.
“It’s not drugged, stupid,” was the reply, like Wally really was an idiot for doubting that. He blinked a few times until he made out the snarling face; actually, made out that he was wearing a mask over his face now. A black bandanna. “Fine, whatever.”
Guy With Gun left before Wally could decide if he should risk it. Didn’t go far, but it brought Wally around to his surroundings.
He was sitting in a sturdy metal chair with a padded plastic seat, his ankles tied to the front legs and his arms were handcuffed over his head, around a metal pole. His wrists already were chafing, hurt a little.
And he wasn’t alone. The small basement had a ring of six bolted support beams, and five were occupied. Four women, all facing each other and Wally, three of which were very pregnant and one that might be... but she was bigger. Hard to tell.
All of them were familiar in that very difficult to place sort of way, like he’d only seen them in passing. They looked terrified, especially the big girl... and she was really just a girl... who was sobbing behind a cloth gag. Guy With Gun must have gotten tired of listening to her, as he was watching over them from a chair off to the side and looking none too pleased about doing it. Like he’d rather be somewhere else.
Guy With Gun noticed that Wally was awake and picked a radio up off a table cluttered with beer bottles. “She’s up,” he grunted, getting out of his seat and hooking his radio onto his belt with that. The gun was holstered.
“I need a doctor,” Wally begged, figuring a little begging wouldn’t hurt the image. “I can get money, but please let me go.”
Guy With Gun slapped ‘Angie’ across the face. “Shut up, bitch.”
“Don’t you have any manners?” One of the other women laughed, but stopped and hid it before Guy With Gun could see which. Neither did Wally; he could feel his powers, but everything was going so fast. Still dizzy.
A masked camera crew came downstairs; of course. The ransom demand.
They set up a little digital camera on a tripod; well, one guy did, a little guy. The rest just watched on.
“Last one. Let’s get this over with.”
“You should have checked with me before grabbing this one.” Wally looked at the one who’d spoken; he must be in charge. Short brown hair, built but still had a belly. Might be an alcoholic; Wally knew the look. But who it might be? He didn’t know. Some criminal.
“You’re kidding, right? Wayne’s piece alone will make us rich.”
Guy in Charge grunted noncommittally and stared at Wally. Came over and made Wally really want to spit in his face. “Fine,” he said, and ran his hand over ‘Angie’s’ chest, the fake boob-bra apparently convincing.
“Get your hands off me,” Wally growled, but Guy in Charge kept feeling him up, turning so the camera could catch it. Red light blinking. He was recording this. The handcuffs rattled against the pole and Wally tried to buck him off, but he pushed his flat hand against Wally’s belly.
“It would be a shame if something happened to you. Not often I catch a woman with such big muscles.” Guy in Charge laughed, then grabbed Wally’s face and turned to the camera. “50 million or she dies. Slowly.”
“Fuck you, scumbag.” Wally did spit in his face then. “You won’t get any money.”
“We’ll see.” Guy in Charge wiped off his face and snickered. “Further instructions are included. I suggest you follow them.” He slapped Wally across the face a few times, just making him angrier. “I’ll make you cry, darling.”
Wally turned his face away and glared. Guy in Charge and his cronies packed up their gear and left, and Guy With Gun took a six-pack out of a fridge and started drinking.
“Are you okay?” someone whispered timidly. It was one of the very pregnant women, a pretty brunette who looked exhausted.
“Yeah,” Wally replied, quietly. “I’m Angie.”
“Debbie.”
“It’ll be alright, Debbie. They made a mistake by grabbing me.” Wally smiled, tried to be uplifting. Even if he could feel bruises on his face. “I know kung-fu.”
The women... actually smiled. Debbie almost laughed.
Wally smiled as long as he could, but he still hurt.
“Are you alright?” another woman asked him.
“My belly hurts.”
“Is it sharp pain or dull?”
“Dull.”
“It’s normal, then. You should be fine.” This woman looked like the sort of woman that would make a good mother who wanted to give everyone a big hug. “Yeah, honey. You’ll be alright, it happened to me. I’m Cynthia, by the way. Cynthia Warren.”
Guy With Gun tossed an empty beer bottle in their direction; it didn’t break, but rattled across the concrete floor. “Shut up! Stupid cunts.”
The others were terrified, so Wally just kept quiet as they did. When nobody was looking, he was trying and actually failing to escape his handcuffs, because he couldn’t get his hands vibrating fast enough. There was no telling what would happen if he tried to force his way through them like that. Something dramatic and only possibly good.
He could hear Not-Batman in his head again. Taunting him with Bruce’s voice.
“Still waiting for your boyfriend to rescue you?”
Wally squeezed his right fist a few times. It hadn’t healed entirely right, nothing noticeable... but he could feel a few of the bones moving against each other the way they hadn’t before when he gripped his hand tight. He couldn’t see it, but he knew there was a little bump on the top of his hand when he’d flex it like that.
“Pathetic. Do they use you as a mascot in your world, or just bait?”
If he closed his eyes, he was back in in the evil Watchtower being held down for Not-Batman to run tests.
Bad, very bad.
This was not the time to have waking nightmares.
He needed something to eat. Couldn’t think straight, still dizzy, still ached. Wasn’t even healing although his powers weren’t gone. Even if he didn’t dare to use them actively.
Wally didn’t wait much longer before there were footsteps and laughter coming down the stairs.
“Don’t worry, I think I can handle her by myself,” laughed a very familiar voice.
A few masked men walked in, ignoring the other women.
Jason was with them. Bruce’s son.
“You little bastard!” Wally snarled. “What the hell do you think your doing?”
“Paying your ransom. Of course, that means you’re coming with me and not going home to Daddy.” He smiled a self-indulgent little smile, then turned to Guy in Charge. “The next time you decide to cross me I won’t be so nice about it,” he said not so nicely.
Maybe the other guys hadn’t prepared for capturing a super-powered being, but Jason did. He tied Wally up with what he recognized as a good de-cel line, which was tricker to get out of on a good day, at the knees and elbows until he got the cuffs off, then he giggled to himself as he secured Wally’s wrists together.
“You should know better than anyone what a mistake it is to mess with me,” Wally snarled softly. “And I don’t need your help.”
“I’m not worried.”
Jason shoved a leather glove in Wally’s mouth and tied it in with what had once been his blindfold, blindfolding him with an actual blindfold, then tossed him over his shoulder and simply walked out.
Wally was so tired he could hardly move, the need to eat making him shake and feel sick. It was stupid, not to eat a bigger breakfast before going out. But he’d been planning on going somewhere for lunch, not getting kidnapped.
Bruce was going to go insane if he found out about this.
As soon as the car stopped and he was back over Jason’s shoulder Wally realized he’d been laying in the back seat with a perfect opportunity to get the blindfold off and see what was going on. Dumb.
They went up a set of stairs and through some doors before Wally was gently set down on a cushy chair. Jason took off the blindfold and the gag and let Wally take in the surroundings of... a loft apartment?
“This your place?”
Jason laughed. “I’m touched that you remember me.”
“How could I forget. You were letting your own father bleed to death in a bathtub full of ice, that kinda thing sticks.”
“Yeah. I did do that, didn’t I? Well, he won’t find you here.”
“How did you even know where I was?”
Wally frowned as Jason came back with a glass of water and some candy bars. But he didn’t refuse it, and drank the whole glass out of Jason’s hand, ate greedily out of his fingers and felt a little better. Like he could get out of the line if he really had to. Life or death.
Jason threw the wrappers away and rambled around easily, like he just had a buddy over.
“Not much happens in this town I don’t know about,” he finally replied.
“I’d only been there an hour, maybe two.”
“Maybe I was watching you shop.” Jason thought that was pretty funny.
“Great, you’re insane and you’re stalking me. Impulse told me you were talking to him. Leave him alone, alright? Just... stay away from us. And untie me for chrissake.”
“Actually, that’s why you’re here. Why is it that you were able to be captured by those clowns?” Jason sat down on a couch opposite Wally’s chair, settling into the leather with squeaks and creaks of new material. “How is it that the prodigal son had to come to the rescue?”
“I’m really not considering this a rescue. And I told you, I didn’t need help. I would have gotten loose.”
“Hans was going to rape you before I showed up. Say thank you.”
“Hans would have discovered I had a dick and given me the advantage of surprise.”
“Right. Anyway, that’s all I want, cherie`. Why didn’t you escape?”
“I thought you knew everything.”
“I’m getting there. Come on. It’s just me. I’m family, and I’ll even drive you back to your car.”
Jason got up, went to the kitchen table for a paper town, and casually walked back and bent over Wally’s face. Wally glared as Jason carefully... tidied up his makeup. Gently touched around his eyes and lips until he was satisfied and went back to acting as if he’d never done that.
“You’re crazy,” Wally said. Jason laughed. “It doesn’t make me want to be very sharing.”
“I like you, Wally,” Jason said. “I would never hurt you.”
Batshit f’in crazy.
“My powers aren’t working right. I’m going to S.T.A.R. about it, I should be fine eventually. Alright?”
Apparently not entirely. Jason got up again and grabbed Wally’s wrists, pulling him out of the chair. He then lifted up Wally’s shirt and began caressing the bit of ponch.
“So that’s why you were in a maternity store. I wondered about that. You should take better care of yourself.”
“Thanks. Can you please untie me?”
“Soon. I suppose I should get you back to Daddy.”
He blindfolded Wally again, tossed him back over his shoulder (more gently) and carried him back to the car for another short drive.
At the parking garage Jason finally did untie him, tossing the line in the front seat and standing back. He offered a hand to help Wally get out, which he ignored.
“They took my purse.”
Jason handed him his keys, phone, and his wallet. “They tossed the rest. Nothing important?”
“No.” He frowned. “Thank you. But I mean it. This doesn’t make us pals, alright?”
It didn’t help at all that Jason looked so much like Bruce. Like Bruce would have at his age, traveling the world as a teenager. Just with this cocky grin on his face that made Wally want to punch him instead of thank him.
“What happens to the other women?”
“They get ransomed, I guess.”
Wally narrowed his eyes and flipped his phone open behind his back. The last dialed number was Bart for a Burger King run; he waited until he heard Bart answer, then tapped just a little extra energy to tell him, faster than Jason would be able to hear, exactly where they were and to get there yesterday. Eating just a little made him feel way better.
“Who was that?” Jason snarled, snatching it away.
“You didn’t say I couldn’t call anyone.” Wally grinned.
Bart showed up a couple seconds later, looking first at Wally, then at Jason. “I know who you are!”
“He’s a bad guy, Impulse. And if he doesn’t tell me, right now, where those women are? He’s going to be in that special cell in the cave.”
To his credit, Bart seemed to catch on pretty quick, stepped between Wally and Jason protectively.
“I thought you told me to stay away from him?”
“I’m not in the mood, Jason. And he’s not sick. I actually think he’s more powerful than I am on a good day.”
“Thanks!” Bart flashed him a huge toothy grin before getting serious again.
“The abandoned glue factory on Prince street.”
“Check it out,” Wally murmured, and Bart vanished, then reappeared, nodded, and was gone again.
He knew how to handle it, even if Wally really hated him working in Gotham at all... he’d been handling Central City mostly by himself for a while. Getting a surprising amount of advice from Central P.D. while he was at it.
They’d be safe.
Wally snatched his phone back. “Jason, I’m telling you right now. Keep you and your sketchy sense of right and wrong away from my family.”
“Whatever you say, Mom.” He winked and strolled away while Wally huffed and tried to think up a comeback.
Nothing came to him, so he just stalked to his car and drove home.
It only took Bart twenty minutes to have the warehouse swarming with cops and the women safely released.
He came home and found Wally in the living room of their apartment (which it still was) and hopped on the couch. Wally muted the TV and gave him a hug. Still wearing his uniform, the goggles pushed up on his head.
“Did something happen to you?”
“No. I’m fine.”
“Good.”
Wally listened to the details and felt entirely useless. When Bart was done, Wally kissed the top of his head and made some excuse about getting changed.
Which he did.
Or tried. There was no wearing the uniform anymore. Most of it, anyway; the shape of the V in the front of the pants made them actually fit alright still.
He replaced the uniform top with a red Flash logo sweatshirt, two sizes too big, and found a red domino mask with white lenses in the cave storage closet for extra uniform stuff. Not custom fit for him, but it would work for now.
Then he looked at himself in the mirror. It was a little silly, but the logo on the hoodie was actually pretty close to his actual uniform. And his legs still looked the same, so right now it could be passed off as a bizarre fashion choice.
Wally put in his com-link.
“Flash to Watchtower, mind if I get a lift up?”
“Hi Flash!” Kara greeted cheerily. “Coming right up!”
She was happy to see him, but busy, when he transported up.
J’onn was enjoying the telepathic shielding of his quarters, turning the contraption off when he saw who was at the door. In his Martian form, at his ease, he gestured for Wally to come in.
No real furniture to speak of, so Wally sat on the floor, cross-legged, and J’onn did the same.
They didn’t say anything for a few minutes, and Wally just put his hands in the front pocket together, looked back at him. J’onn didn’t seem to mind, looking serene and patient.
Wally nodded, cleared his throat.
And began to talk.
He told J’onn everything, in an honest way that J’onn made so easy. Being the world’s greatest listener.
And when Wally was done, J’onn just smiled.
“You already know what you should do,” J’onn said.
“I know,” Wally sighed.
“For his sake as well as yours.”
Wally nodded. “Thanks.”
He went home then.
Bruce was at his post in the cave, monitoring the news networks with a cup of tea. Wally gave him a kiss on the cheek and wrapped his arms around his shoulders.
“Hi shnookums.”
“How are you?”
“Well. I made a decision,” Wally said. Smiled a little. “You can protect me as much as you want. I still want to work on the Watchtower, but that’s the only condition.”
“An escort when you leave the house? Always have your com-link?”
“Fine.” Wally kissed him again. “That’s fine.”
Bruce turned a little and looked at Wally’s makeshift uniform. “I can design something for you.”
“This works.”
“Alright.”
“Hey, can you do me a favor? Throw a batarang over there.”
“Why?”
“Just humor me?”
Bruce shrugged, stood up, and snapped one of the razor-sharp projectiles at his ever-impressive speed.
Wally watched it move in slow motion and held out his hand. Felt the velocity in it, the energy, and drained it all away.
The batarang clattered harmlessly to the floor.
Bruce seemed to be impressed.
Wally grinned, pleased with himself and relieved that his powers weren’t completely messed up.
He could have stopped the bullet.
Maybe.
Prophecies Fulfilled
Bruce/Wally, R for bad language, violence, angst.
When Wally's powers misfire at the worst possible moment, he comes to realizes there might be something to Bruce's paranoia.
Chapter 9: A Damsel in Distress
The echoing sound of Wally’s heels clicking on the wood floor in the middle of the day made Bruce raise a curious eyebrow. It also made him wait at the bottom instead of going up as he’d meant to, the sound changing to carpet-muffled footsteps. There was nothing quite like Wally’s legs, in heels, walking down the stairs.
Wally came into view, one hand gliding over the banister, the other rooting through a silver-sequined purse. He’d been going with strawberry blonde wigs recently, this one all pinned up with pearl hairpins and a few loose curls. A good idea, as it suited his complexion, yet made him look even more different than himself. Brought out his eyes. A teal skirt’s hem clipping around his lovely calves as he carefully descended the staircase, unaware of being seen. Most men had thin calves compared to a woman, but Wally’s were shapely and defined with muscles so perfectly accentuated by sheer black hose.
The shoes were new. Bruce had seen them on patrol, in a window, and knew Wally would like the look of how they rose just above his ankles, lacing up the back.
He could be like an overgrown frat boy sometimes. It made Bruce smile.
Wally paused on the landing, flipped open a compact and smacked his lips together in front of a mirror, checking his makeup before snapping it back shut, shoving it back in the purse. He looked up then, saw Bruce watching him at the base of the stairs, and smiled wryly.
“Would it be too possessive to ask where you’re going?” Bruce asked, going to the coat rack for the green knit shawl. Wally turned slightly, grinned as he let Bruce wrap it around his shoulders.
The heels made Wally a bit taller than Bruce, which seemed to be a benefit he always enjoyed.
“If I don’t tell you, will you just have me followed?” Wally grinned and didn’t seem bothered in the least by the possibility. He moved easily between loving and hating Bruce’s sense of caution. “Have I ever mentioned really not liking how uncomfortable tucking is? This is going to be awful once I turn into a walrus.”
Dodging Bruce’s question with all the skill of a pro, Wally batted his dark eyelashes and pouted, ever so slightly. It was much more effective when he was wearing lip gloss, Bruce had to admit. Pushing the issue wouldn’t do much good, as it was. “You’re not going to turn into a walrus,” Bruce assured him, breathing in the smell of gardenia.
Wally threw his head back and made this awful, loud sound. Apparently mimicking the animal, though it came out all warped and almost alarming.
“That sounded more like a beached whale.”
“Oh great. That’s a much better image.”
“Stay.” Bruce held Wally’s hips, loved how his muscles felt under silk. “I want to make love to you.”
“Of course you do,” Wally whispered, this sultry sort of voice. Very close. Just a little taller than Bruce. “But I have to get out of the house. I’ll be back.”
Wally gave Bruce a quick kiss, then continued on his way to the garage. Shaking his ass just enough to make it clear he was being a cocktease for his own pleasure. “Don’t worry, I’ll come back and take a nap before we have to go out. I won’t fall asleep on you again!” he called over his shoulder, cheekily blowing a kiss as he rounded a corner and only the sound of the heels was left.
Bruce crossed his arms over his chest and frowned at himself for the thoughts he was having.
One doctor insisted that Wally return to sleeping all the time, even if he had to be drugged. It was the safe suggestion that Bruce considered, then decided against even bringing up. Not yet.
But it was so tempting. He liked having Wally ‘locked up in his drafty castle’ as terrible as it sounded. It was safer that way. But. Things were going well. The healthy glow had returned to Wally’s face, energy back in his steps.
He was going to be a father. To children that hadn’t been brought to him through death and violence, but love. As much as he loved the boys, and even Bart in his lingering grudge, the prospect was so staggering he stood in the front hall for a good long time just thinking about it.
The euphoria shifted into guilt as he remembered Jason. The child he never had a chance to raise. There was fear there, too. Knowing firsthand what Jason was capable of, the black hatred twisting his soul.
Did Talia know who he was, that night in Cairo? Had it been even before Batman’s own birth that R’as had sights on him? He wasn’t sure if the situation would be made easier or more difficult, to know if he’d been manipulated.
She’d worn a white silk veil over the bridge of her nose, those exotic eyes so dark in the light of the desert stars. And he’d not said a word when she didn’t take it off, the kisses feeling like stolen things, the allure of a mask already in his mind.
The bitch.
The Jaguar roared down the front drive, bass from the stereo audible even from inside, and Bruce had to chuckle and let him go, deciding against any sort of nosy intervention for the time being. He’d promised Wally he wouldn’t.
But it was damned hard not to act.
Despite his newfound vocabulary of fabrics, clothing styles, makeup, and accessories, Wally had never once gone shopping for Angie. Relying on the magically appearing wardrobe had been easier, because, as he was so often reminded by so many people, his own taste was generally questionable.
He kept this in mind when the bright orange mini-skirt had momentary appeal, and decided Bruce would have something to say about chunky Lucite bracelets, even if girls on MTV seemed to like them. Not that he should really be shopping for clothes that weren’t going to fit in another week, anyway.
The real goal was to buy maternity clothes for himself, because if he let the magic ones keep appearing they’d all be... fancy. Fancy clothes he liked, but always made him a little worried about staining something. Never felt entirely comfortable, but the more Angie became an actual person instead of just a cover story (and a good excuse for kinky sex) he realized she was never entirely comfortable with expensive clothes and the mucky-mucks if he wasn’t. Huh.
There wasn’t really anything that Wally would call ‘casual’ in her wardrobe.
Being Angie did, however, feel powerful and glamourous. It didn’t matter if she parked in a no-parking zone or made a fool of herself or acted like the Queen of Gotham. She was Bruce Wayne’s fiancee`, and that made everyone who recognized her fall all over themselves for what she wanted. Or at least, Wally could act like that if he wanted to.
Wally decided that ‘Queen of Gotham’ was an excellently awesomely perfect title because it would be the biggest in-joke of his life. But as ever, he decided it would be better to keep the cross-dressing side of him on the down-low.
He laughed and finally worked up the balls to walk in the Baby Boutique, where a bell jingled merrily as he opened the door, and the register girl immediately recognized Angie. Wally could tell when it happened now, not that it actually did often; people would get a look like they were meeting the Flash, only with dollar signs going ‘ca-ching!’ behind their eyeballs. She was cute in a way that made her either a cheerleader or just naturally full of zing and pep or... something.
“Hi! Can I help you?” She smiled so wide it threatened to split her face open.
“I’ll let you know.”
“Okay! Just let me know, I’ll be right here, anything you need!”
“Thanks.” He smiled, waited until he’d turned into a rack of clothes to snicker.
It was easier, anyway, being Angie during the day. No corsets for slinky dresses, not that he could wear one of those anymore, anyway. Just the same, he thought a blue shirt with a laced-up back was nice...
The bell rang, and Wally glanced over his shoulder. It was a guy looking around like he was lost. Huh.
Wally wandered over to the skirts, ran his hands over the materials. How the felt was more important than how they looked, but most of these were pretty hideous, he thought. Maybe he was wrong.
His hand froze as he felt something hard pushed into the small of his back. “Don’t make a sound, Miss Hastings.”
Was someone trying to rob him? In a maternity store?
“Turn around and walk out, nice and easy.” A kind of nasally voice. Wally hated this guy already. “Do as I say, don’t make a fuss, and I won’t shoot you. Alright?”
Could he stop a bullet from a gun at point-blank range?
Wally started to slow time, but he felt something was wrong as soon as he tried to tap the Speed Force. A wrong kind of ache all over him, so he just nodded. “Alright.”
The man kept the gun, likely hidden in a bag or something he couldn’t see, smile and acted like they knew each other. Said a few things, but Wally wasn’t paying attention, just alarmed that his stomach still hurt. This sore ache that was a lot more scary than some thug with a gun.
They went out to where a car was waiting; right, he was being kidnapped. Or maybe some mobster wanted to talk to him, was that how it worked?
At any rate, the guy never took the gun away from him, and Wally didn’t dare use his powers. He started to think rationally and looked at the driver; talking to someone on a cell phone. The bullet didn’t matter, he could disarm the guy... what was he thinking?
Anyway, he decided to go along with it for the time being. If there were other guys involved, he’d like to get all of them at once. Did he remember to bring his com-link?
Was something wrong with him? He felt dizzy and was almost glad to sit down in the back of the car. The guy with the gun pushed him over, got in, slammed the door, and they sped away. Should have figured this would happen. How many times did Alfred say he was kidnapped? Twenty?
Definitely had to get these guys. All of them.
“So I’m being kidnapped, right?” Wally rubbed his stomach and didn’t let the pain show. It wasn’t getting any worse or changing, it was like a pulled muscle.
Athletes and crime-fighters alike were familiar with different kinds of pain; as long as it didn’t get worse, he didn’t have to panic.
They were fine, he was fine. The girls were tough, just like their father, and it would pass.
The kidnappers didn’t answer him. Professionals. Or under good orders.
Or just assholes.
Guy with gun threw a black blindfold at Wally. “Put it on,” he growled. “Or I’ll drug you and see what’s under your pretty skirt.”
Wally picked it up off his lap and looked at him in alarm. Did he know who Wally really was... or was he threatening to rape Angie? “You won’t touch me and live to tell about it,” Wally told him calmly.
“I’m sure, bitch, now do it.”
“Jerk,” he muttered, and did it. Guy with gun checked it, of course, but it didn’t really matter.
Then another scary sort of reality poked up it’s head. If he used his powers, that might be bad. The sort of thing that might end up in newspapers as an attention-grabbing piece of famous-people gossip.
BRUCE WAYNE’S SUPER-POWERED GIRLFRIEND SAVES SELF FROM KIDNAPPERS
ALSO A MAN
Wally envisioned the headline and sighed. Whatever. They’d never know what hit them.
Assholes. What Wally really needed to do right now was get to a doctor, but his powers still felt like... trying to hang onto a live wire. One of the big ones, hanging out of the side of a sub station.
System overload. Couldn’t do it, and trying drained him like a battery going dead.
He’d just let himself be kidnapped. Who did that?
A cocky bastard trying to prove a point, that's who.
Who was he kidding? This was exactly what Bruce was trying to tell him. He was helpless now and had to accept it or get in big trouble. Like this.
They didn’t go far, somewhere inside the city. The car stopped and he was urged out, the gun still uncomfortably close. Wally tried to hear or smell something but nothing really stuck out.
This sucked. He had passengers that he couldn’t risk by doing something stupid, or he would have. Stupid ideas worked often enough. But. Had to be careful.
No, he’d definitely forgotten the com-link in the bedside table. Still used to never going anywhere or having a reason for it.
Guy with gun urged him down a set of stairs, holding the gun firmly against his back. It was now or never.
He grabbed onto the live wire and actually screamed when he pulled off the blindfold and disarmed the guy formerly holding the gun in a smooth motion. Strike with the other hand at the right angle. Like riding a bike.
Until he almost passed out. It felt like his body shorted out.
Nausea and dizziness hit immediately, and the other guys were ready to shoot, then were catching Wally from falling down the stairs after the first guy. Things were moving really fast, the speed gone. Only a second, and it hadn’t been enough time.
He had this weird memory of Bart re-telling his defeat of Metallo as they carried him down the stairs. Having seen it himself, how the robot body just went limp and still after the power source was torn out. Trapped in his own body, unable to even see or feel? That was awful. Terrible.
Wally blanked for a while, until he came to his senses and Guy With Gun trying to give him water, tipping the glass against his lips and telling him to drink it.
“No,” he said.
“It’s not drugged, stupid,” was the reply, like Wally really was an idiot for doubting that. He blinked a few times until he made out the snarling face; actually, made out that he was wearing a mask over his face now. A black bandanna. “Fine, whatever.”
Guy With Gun left before Wally could decide if he should risk it. Didn’t go far, but it brought Wally around to his surroundings.
He was sitting in a sturdy metal chair with a padded plastic seat, his ankles tied to the front legs and his arms were handcuffed over his head, around a metal pole. His wrists already were chafing, hurt a little.
And he wasn’t alone. The small basement had a ring of six bolted support beams, and five were occupied. Four women, all facing each other and Wally, three of which were very pregnant and one that might be... but she was bigger. Hard to tell.
All of them were familiar in that very difficult to place sort of way, like he’d only seen them in passing. They looked terrified, especially the big girl... and she was really just a girl... who was sobbing behind a cloth gag. Guy With Gun must have gotten tired of listening to her, as he was watching over them from a chair off to the side and looking none too pleased about doing it. Like he’d rather be somewhere else.
Guy With Gun noticed that Wally was awake and picked a radio up off a table cluttered with beer bottles. “She’s up,” he grunted, getting out of his seat and hooking his radio onto his belt with that. The gun was holstered.
“I need a doctor,” Wally begged, figuring a little begging wouldn’t hurt the image. “I can get money, but please let me go.”
Guy With Gun slapped ‘Angie’ across the face. “Shut up, bitch.”
“Don’t you have any manners?” One of the other women laughed, but stopped and hid it before Guy With Gun could see which. Neither did Wally; he could feel his powers, but everything was going so fast. Still dizzy.
A masked camera crew came downstairs; of course. The ransom demand.
They set up a little digital camera on a tripod; well, one guy did, a little guy. The rest just watched on.
“Last one. Let’s get this over with.”
“You should have checked with me before grabbing this one.” Wally looked at the one who’d spoken; he must be in charge. Short brown hair, built but still had a belly. Might be an alcoholic; Wally knew the look. But who it might be? He didn’t know. Some criminal.
“You’re kidding, right? Wayne’s piece alone will make us rich.”
Guy in Charge grunted noncommittally and stared at Wally. Came over and made Wally really want to spit in his face. “Fine,” he said, and ran his hand over ‘Angie’s’ chest, the fake boob-bra apparently convincing.
“Get your hands off me,” Wally growled, but Guy in Charge kept feeling him up, turning so the camera could catch it. Red light blinking. He was recording this. The handcuffs rattled against the pole and Wally tried to buck him off, but he pushed his flat hand against Wally’s belly.
“It would be a shame if something happened to you. Not often I catch a woman with such big muscles.” Guy in Charge laughed, then grabbed Wally’s face and turned to the camera. “50 million or she dies. Slowly.”
“Fuck you, scumbag.” Wally did spit in his face then. “You won’t get any money.”
“We’ll see.” Guy in Charge wiped off his face and snickered. “Further instructions are included. I suggest you follow them.” He slapped Wally across the face a few times, just making him angrier. “I’ll make you cry, darling.”
Wally turned his face away and glared. Guy in Charge and his cronies packed up their gear and left, and Guy With Gun took a six-pack out of a fridge and started drinking.
“Are you okay?” someone whispered timidly. It was one of the very pregnant women, a pretty brunette who looked exhausted.
“Yeah,” Wally replied, quietly. “I’m Angie.”
“Debbie.”
“It’ll be alright, Debbie. They made a mistake by grabbing me.” Wally smiled, tried to be uplifting. Even if he could feel bruises on his face. “I know kung-fu.”
The women... actually smiled. Debbie almost laughed.
Wally smiled as long as he could, but he still hurt.
“Are you alright?” another woman asked him.
“My belly hurts.”
“Is it sharp pain or dull?”
“Dull.”
“It’s normal, then. You should be fine.” This woman looked like the sort of woman that would make a good mother who wanted to give everyone a big hug. “Yeah, honey. You’ll be alright, it happened to me. I’m Cynthia, by the way. Cynthia Warren.”
Guy With Gun tossed an empty beer bottle in their direction; it didn’t break, but rattled across the concrete floor. “Shut up! Stupid cunts.”
The others were terrified, so Wally just kept quiet as they did. When nobody was looking, he was trying and actually failing to escape his handcuffs, because he couldn’t get his hands vibrating fast enough. There was no telling what would happen if he tried to force his way through them like that. Something dramatic and only possibly good.
He could hear Not-Batman in his head again. Taunting him with Bruce’s voice.
“Still waiting for your boyfriend to rescue you?”
Wally squeezed his right fist a few times. It hadn’t healed entirely right, nothing noticeable... but he could feel a few of the bones moving against each other the way they hadn’t before when he gripped his hand tight. He couldn’t see it, but he knew there was a little bump on the top of his hand when he’d flex it like that.
“Pathetic. Do they use you as a mascot in your world, or just bait?”
If he closed his eyes, he was back in in the evil Watchtower being held down for Not-Batman to run tests.
Bad, very bad.
This was not the time to have waking nightmares.
He needed something to eat. Couldn’t think straight, still dizzy, still ached. Wasn’t even healing although his powers weren’t gone. Even if he didn’t dare to use them actively.
Wally didn’t wait much longer before there were footsteps and laughter coming down the stairs.
“Don’t worry, I think I can handle her by myself,” laughed a very familiar voice.
A few masked men walked in, ignoring the other women.
Jason was with them. Bruce’s son.
“You little bastard!” Wally snarled. “What the hell do you think your doing?”
“Paying your ransom. Of course, that means you’re coming with me and not going home to Daddy.” He smiled a self-indulgent little smile, then turned to Guy in Charge. “The next time you decide to cross me I won’t be so nice about it,” he said not so nicely.
Maybe the other guys hadn’t prepared for capturing a super-powered being, but Jason did. He tied Wally up with what he recognized as a good de-cel line, which was tricker to get out of on a good day, at the knees and elbows until he got the cuffs off, then he giggled to himself as he secured Wally’s wrists together.
“You should know better than anyone what a mistake it is to mess with me,” Wally snarled softly. “And I don’t need your help.”
“I’m not worried.”
Jason shoved a leather glove in Wally’s mouth and tied it in with what had once been his blindfold, blindfolding him with an actual blindfold, then tossed him over his shoulder and simply walked out.
Wally was so tired he could hardly move, the need to eat making him shake and feel sick. It was stupid, not to eat a bigger breakfast before going out. But he’d been planning on going somewhere for lunch, not getting kidnapped.
Bruce was going to go insane if he found out about this.
As soon as the car stopped and he was back over Jason’s shoulder Wally realized he’d been laying in the back seat with a perfect opportunity to get the blindfold off and see what was going on. Dumb.
They went up a set of stairs and through some doors before Wally was gently set down on a cushy chair. Jason took off the blindfold and the gag and let Wally take in the surroundings of... a loft apartment?
“This your place?”
Jason laughed. “I’m touched that you remember me.”
“How could I forget. You were letting your own father bleed to death in a bathtub full of ice, that kinda thing sticks.”
“Yeah. I did do that, didn’t I? Well, he won’t find you here.”
“How did you even know where I was?”
Wally frowned as Jason came back with a glass of water and some candy bars. But he didn’t refuse it, and drank the whole glass out of Jason’s hand, ate greedily out of his fingers and felt a little better. Like he could get out of the line if he really had to. Life or death.
Jason threw the wrappers away and rambled around easily, like he just had a buddy over.
“Not much happens in this town I don’t know about,” he finally replied.
“I’d only been there an hour, maybe two.”
“Maybe I was watching you shop.” Jason thought that was pretty funny.
“Great, you’re insane and you’re stalking me. Impulse told me you were talking to him. Leave him alone, alright? Just... stay away from us. And untie me for chrissake.”
“Actually, that’s why you’re here. Why is it that you were able to be captured by those clowns?” Jason sat down on a couch opposite Wally’s chair, settling into the leather with squeaks and creaks of new material. “How is it that the prodigal son had to come to the rescue?”
“I’m really not considering this a rescue. And I told you, I didn’t need help. I would have gotten loose.”
“Hans was going to rape you before I showed up. Say thank you.”
“Hans would have discovered I had a dick and given me the advantage of surprise.”
“Right. Anyway, that’s all I want, cherie`. Why didn’t you escape?”
“I thought you knew everything.”
“I’m getting there. Come on. It’s just me. I’m family, and I’ll even drive you back to your car.”
Jason got up, went to the kitchen table for a paper town, and casually walked back and bent over Wally’s face. Wally glared as Jason carefully... tidied up his makeup. Gently touched around his eyes and lips until he was satisfied and went back to acting as if he’d never done that.
“You’re crazy,” Wally said. Jason laughed. “It doesn’t make me want to be very sharing.”
“I like you, Wally,” Jason said. “I would never hurt you.”
Batshit f’in crazy.
“My powers aren’t working right. I’m going to S.T.A.R. about it, I should be fine eventually. Alright?”
Apparently not entirely. Jason got up again and grabbed Wally’s wrists, pulling him out of the chair. He then lifted up Wally’s shirt and began caressing the bit of ponch.
“So that’s why you were in a maternity store. I wondered about that. You should take better care of yourself.”
“Thanks. Can you please untie me?”
“Soon. I suppose I should get you back to Daddy.”
He blindfolded Wally again, tossed him back over his shoulder (more gently) and carried him back to the car for another short drive.
At the parking garage Jason finally did untie him, tossing the line in the front seat and standing back. He offered a hand to help Wally get out, which he ignored.
“They took my purse.”
Jason handed him his keys, phone, and his wallet. “They tossed the rest. Nothing important?”
“No.” He frowned. “Thank you. But I mean it. This doesn’t make us pals, alright?”
It didn’t help at all that Jason looked so much like Bruce. Like Bruce would have at his age, traveling the world as a teenager. Just with this cocky grin on his face that made Wally want to punch him instead of thank him.
“What happens to the other women?”
“They get ransomed, I guess.”
Wally narrowed his eyes and flipped his phone open behind his back. The last dialed number was Bart for a Burger King run; he waited until he heard Bart answer, then tapped just a little extra energy to tell him, faster than Jason would be able to hear, exactly where they were and to get there yesterday. Eating just a little made him feel way better.
“Who was that?” Jason snarled, snatching it away.
“You didn’t say I couldn’t call anyone.” Wally grinned.
Bart showed up a couple seconds later, looking first at Wally, then at Jason. “I know who you are!”
“He’s a bad guy, Impulse. And if he doesn’t tell me, right now, where those women are? He’s going to be in that special cell in the cave.”
To his credit, Bart seemed to catch on pretty quick, stepped between Wally and Jason protectively.
“I thought you told me to stay away from him?”
“I’m not in the mood, Jason. And he’s not sick. I actually think he’s more powerful than I am on a good day.”
“Thanks!” Bart flashed him a huge toothy grin before getting serious again.
“The abandoned glue factory on Prince street.”
“Check it out,” Wally murmured, and Bart vanished, then reappeared, nodded, and was gone again.
He knew how to handle it, even if Wally really hated him working in Gotham at all... he’d been handling Central City mostly by himself for a while. Getting a surprising amount of advice from Central P.D. while he was at it.
They’d be safe.
Wally snatched his phone back. “Jason, I’m telling you right now. Keep you and your sketchy sense of right and wrong away from my family.”
“Whatever you say, Mom.” He winked and strolled away while Wally huffed and tried to think up a comeback.
Nothing came to him, so he just stalked to his car and drove home.
It only took Bart twenty minutes to have the warehouse swarming with cops and the women safely released.
He came home and found Wally in the living room of their apartment (which it still was) and hopped on the couch. Wally muted the TV and gave him a hug. Still wearing his uniform, the goggles pushed up on his head.
“Did something happen to you?”
“No. I’m fine.”
“Good.”
Wally listened to the details and felt entirely useless. When Bart was done, Wally kissed the top of his head and made some excuse about getting changed.
Which he did.
Or tried. There was no wearing the uniform anymore. Most of it, anyway; the shape of the V in the front of the pants made them actually fit alright still.
He replaced the uniform top with a red Flash logo sweatshirt, two sizes too big, and found a red domino mask with white lenses in the cave storage closet for extra uniform stuff. Not custom fit for him, but it would work for now.
Then he looked at himself in the mirror. It was a little silly, but the logo on the hoodie was actually pretty close to his actual uniform. And his legs still looked the same, so right now it could be passed off as a bizarre fashion choice.
Wally put in his com-link.
“Flash to Watchtower, mind if I get a lift up?”
“Hi Flash!” Kara greeted cheerily. “Coming right up!”
She was happy to see him, but busy, when he transported up.
J’onn was enjoying the telepathic shielding of his quarters, turning the contraption off when he saw who was at the door. In his Martian form, at his ease, he gestured for Wally to come in.
No real furniture to speak of, so Wally sat on the floor, cross-legged, and J’onn did the same.
They didn’t say anything for a few minutes, and Wally just put his hands in the front pocket together, looked back at him. J’onn didn’t seem to mind, looking serene and patient.
Wally nodded, cleared his throat.
And began to talk.
He told J’onn everything, in an honest way that J’onn made so easy. Being the world’s greatest listener.
And when Wally was done, J’onn just smiled.
“You already know what you should do,” J’onn said.
“I know,” Wally sighed.
“For his sake as well as yours.”
Wally nodded. “Thanks.”
He went home then.
Bruce was at his post in the cave, monitoring the news networks with a cup of tea. Wally gave him a kiss on the cheek and wrapped his arms around his shoulders.
“Hi shnookums.”
“How are you?”
“Well. I made a decision,” Wally said. Smiled a little. “You can protect me as much as you want. I still want to work on the Watchtower, but that’s the only condition.”
“An escort when you leave the house? Always have your com-link?”
“Fine.” Wally kissed him again. “That’s fine.”
Bruce turned a little and looked at Wally’s makeshift uniform. “I can design something for you.”
“This works.”
“Alright.”
“Hey, can you do me a favor? Throw a batarang over there.”
“Why?”
“Just humor me?”
Bruce shrugged, stood up, and snapped one of the razor-sharp projectiles at his ever-impressive speed.
Wally watched it move in slow motion and held out his hand. Felt the velocity in it, the energy, and drained it all away.
The batarang clattered harmlessly to the floor.
Bruce seemed to be impressed.
Wally grinned, pleased with himself and relieved that his powers weren’t completely messed up.
He could have stopped the bullet.
Maybe.
no subject
on 2008-05-21 06:06 pm (UTC)(Did I mention you rock?)