We'll Always Have Metropolis - Commentary - Part One

[shankie]

I got kidnapped by pirates, so this took forever to finish. ::sigh:: It doesn't help that it's the one story that makes me cry, every single time, at several different spots, so I kept having to stop...

This is the last request I've got for the commentary meme, redeux, but, yanno, you can make more if you want. We'll Always Have Metropolis, for merboo. :)

Again, full annotated text, so for warnings...

Kyle/Wally, Toonverse (and hence an angst factor of 11), explicit hormone and desperation fueled sex.

I love this story. I set out for it to be a love story without the word "love" ever being spoken, and oh boy, that's definitely what it is. Like before, this commentary has to be split up, all comments at the end and all that.


I saw Brokeback Mountain for the first time, watched all by my lonesome one night, and I was… very touched.

And then, of course, my brain attached it to fanfic; specifically, an idea thrown my way about doing Kyle/Wally. My original idea for doing a story with them was set after The Obsidian Age in comics canon; I usually (and prefer to) write in the DCAU, but the story I cooked up was compelling enough to get past wrestling with canon. But it never actually got written. The movie, however, gave me a way to do the DCAU.

So I went and found every episode Kyle was in, and watched them in their chronology, got the order of events surrounding that down, and guesstimated on the timeframe. With what little we’re given about the passage of time, I did my best.

Every section is a direct result of, or happens during events in Kyle’s appearances on the show. To give more… drama to it, he visits Earth very infrequently.

My goal here was twofold; to make the development of their relationship realistic, and to keep them in character.

And, well, my other goal was to resist using the line “I wish I knew how to quit you!”

This story was also inspired by Genesis, specifically, listening to a lot of “Land of Confusion” and “No Son of Mine” along the way.

“I remember long ago, when the sun was shining, the stars were bright, all through the night, and the sound of your laughter as I held you tight, so long ago…”


- Metropolis, Part One -

Kyle had sometimes thought about what it would be like to be a superhero; all that power, fanfare, like rock stars with extra gratitude that returned to menial lives and struggled to hide their inner awesomeness from the world.

Reality was... different. He still struggled to control the ring, still not sure if he even wanted any of this, and found art a welcome escape from all that. Kyle still drew superheroes, both real ones and his own doodles, but they were different now; he looked at his reference shots in a different light, wondering if Superman ever had this much trouble starting out. It was hard to imagine he'd have trouble with anything. At least he didn't worry about rejection letters anymore.

This starts immediately after “In Brightest Day”, the episode of Superman. It was from that I had to take most of his personality from the canon; the rest doing my best to blend Hal Jordan and Kyle Rayner in the comic incarnations together, as the DCAU Kyle is supposed to be. And right at the start of his career as a GL, he’s not entirely sure of himself.

He had until the end of the summer then he was reporting to Oa for training while a replacement took over for his sector. Exciting, sure; but mostly terrifying.

We know that Kyle Rayner trained on Oa at some point because of “Hearts & Minds”; and because of John being re-established as GL by the time Justice League rolls around, I figured he left not too long after getting the ring.

The tip of his pencil snapped and dug into the paper, and he tossed it aside, sparking the ring and suiting up as he sailed out his apartment's window and into the night sky above the city.

Superman really needed a super-signal, he decided, and put one up in the clouds as he waited on top of the Daily Planet globe, feeling like an idiot.

"There's easier ways to get a hold of me," a deep voice rang out, and he took the light down, floating up next to a very amused looking Superman.

"Start smashing up downtown?"

"With this," he said, and handed him an unassuming looking watch. "What's on your mind?"

Kyle tucked it away, and tried to think of what to say, now that he had the big guy's attention.

"I, um... heh. You know what I did this morning? The ring led me to this Russian sub that was about to have a meltdown and I contained the explosion in the reactor."

"So I saw in the papers."

"Yeah, well... how do you handle this pressure all the time?"

"It's... difficult, sometimes." Superman looked regal as he looked down over his city thoughtfully, cape flapping in the updraft from the street. "You know, you aren't the only person who's new to all this. Maybe you should find one of them. I wish I could say it gets easier... but someone to talk to always helps. Who can relate.”

I made Clark something of a father figure in this; trying to help the new hero in town on a professional level.

Advice that was incredibly corny and cliché; Kyle shrugged. "I'll think about it. Thanks."

At first, he completely disregarded the suggestion; he didn't need to talk to anyone, not if even Superman could help, so what was the point?

Kyle’s a bit of a hard-headed boy. This is quite the re-occurring theme; and causes no small amount of Denial with a capital ‘D’ all over the place.

He drew his ads for the Planet and ring-slinging on the side, and figured this was the part where it was getting easier; no sweat. But his deadline felt like it was getting unnervingly close, and he still came home every night buzzing full of stress.

"I totally need a hobby." Kyle poured over his sketches, trying to put together something he could work on in his head.

Of course; he could make a comic book, about himself.

He spent the rest of the night sketching out panels, still working out the plot as he went along, and had ten good pages of action when his alarm clock went off.

Not sleeping had, perhaps... been a mistake. Despite gallons of coffee, he almost fell asleep on his work over and over again. After lunch, he was chased out of the newsroom when he bumped into Perry and got soda all over his vest.

The ring began sparking and he was relieved, ducking outside and suiting up to chase down the alert, and it was a doozy; Parasite had busted loose and was giving Supes all kinds of trouble, and someone was taking advantage of it by unleashing three giant blue robots on downtown. Metropolis never ceased to amaze, and he revved up for battle, channeling all the willpower he had into a giant clamp for the first one, hauling it off the ground with a grunt of effort as it slammed into the second, and they toppled onto some cars in a chaos of beeping alarms.

Always, it was giant robots.

He became distracted by a third, who was drawn away from his attempt to topple the overpass and started shooting rockets at Kyle's shields, automatically flying up to protect him. He growled and made a fist, building giant green fists that he sent pummeling into the metal, grinning as it began to spark and dent. A giant axe did it in, and he dusted off his hands, gloating a little as it slowly fell over in a heap.

Kyle’s the most creative when it comes to using the ring (generally). Being an artist and all. So it was fun to make the images he’d use.

He forgot all about the other two, which hit him with rockets that were deflected, but sent him off-balance and straight into the dirt.

Kyle grunted and pulled himself up, looking to finish what he'd started, but it looked like someone else was doing it for him. At first, he thought the red blur was Superman, disassembling the arms and legs of the robots and leaving them to fall in a pile of useless pieces in the broken pavement.

"You really aught to keep a closer eye on your toys." The Flash appeared next to him, offering a hand up that he begrudgingly accepted, not much for being upstaged.

I don’t often write Wally from the perspective of someone who doesn’t know him; how he behaves around strangers and acquaintances is different. In the DCAU, it generally translated as his cocky brashness being more cocky and brash without being quite as playful.

He was all lean muscle under what cover the red spandex costume offered; Kyle's own wasn't much better, and Supes had the tights, but something about the bright red set off every line of him, and he could have been naked. Even if he couldn't see his face, except for a wicked grin. He could feel heat radiating through their costumes as the Flash pulled him off the ground, struck by the energy coming off him that Kyle held the grip a little longer than he should have, pulling away to dust himself off.

I mean, seriously. Skintight red spandex. That’s going to hide a grand total of nothing.

I also don’t think I’d ever written someone seeing Flash in person for the first time, so I went nuts with it.

"Uh, thanks for the assist."

"I was in the area, and I do love fighting robots," he said, looking rather pleased with himself. "If you're ever in Central City, look me up."

The Flash winked, and true to his name, was gone in a streak of red.

"Asshole," Kyle muttered, but smiled in the direction he'd vanished off to. He could have handled those tin cans by himself.

Kyle has to be macho, of course. He doesn’t need anyone’s damn help, no matter how nice their ass looks… Maybe he doesn’t mind after all. XD

Superman was already done with Parasite, watching as S.T.A.R. Labs was packing him up to be locked up again, hopefully for the last time, but who knew. Kyle headed back to the Planet and his exhaustion hit again... the day couldn't go by quick enough.

Drawing a little dog selling ice cream wasn't capturing his attention, and he got up to track down some coffee for the umpteenth time that day, swinging up to the newsroom to find Jimmy for any requests. Perry was thankfully gone, and Jimmy was where he usually was, hero-worshipping Clark Kent.

Daily life at the Daily Planet was fun, too. I’d never really done that, and I ended up really liking what I did with the crew, all domestic in their way. I also laugh thinking about Kyle drawing his ads…

"Guys, making a coffee run, any orders?"

Clark looked over his glasses distractedly and smiled, but shook his head.

"Big mocha latte with extra whipped cream," Jimmy said, the camera around his neck swinging as he shifted.

"And a no-fat hazelnut, while you're at it," Lois cut in, pushing Kyle and Jimmy out of the way. "Smallville, what did you get on this Parasite thing? I, for one, would like to know how he escaped, yet again."

"Aren't you still on the mob story?"

"Ferretti can wait."

"No-fat hazelnut it is," Kyle said, pulling his jacket on as he headed out to the elevators.

He passed a news vendor on the street outside, turning back to stop and flip through a superhero rag. He was in it, which was cool, even if the photos were bad, and there was an interview with the Flash in the center next to a toothy grinned picture that was... much better. It was hard to imagine this guy being worried about the spandex, flaunting every attribute he had.

Kyle is prone to hero-worship, so it was easy to throw his attentions like that.

SU!: Are you seeing anyone right now?

F: Seeing, sure. I might not have been at this long, you know, being seen as something besides a sidekick, and well... I've been getting my share of attention. But nobody serious.

SU!: What else has changed for you since taking on the mantle of the Flash?

F: It's a lot more responsibility, definitely. But I can't complain, it's the best job in the world.

Fun fact: ‘SU!’ stands for Save Us!, the newspaper the kid who sneaks aboard the Watchtower writes in Welcome to the Working Week.

Kyle paid the vendor and folded it in his jacket, not taking another look at it, but considering that in his haze of being half-asleep.

Lois and Jimmy were still hovering around Clark's desk, accepting the coffees and rushing off with them like junkies looking to enjoy their fix, and Kyle watched Clark type for a minute.

"So, Clark, you get a hold of Superman, right?" Clark stopped typing and adjusted his glasses as he looked up. "I mean, you're always the one with the big stories on him, and I hear you like... call him up... or something..." Kyle rubbed the back of his neck and hoped he wasn't coming off totally lame. "What I'm asking is, how would you go about... calling a superhero?”

I got a charge out of Kyle’s being blissfully unaware of Clark’s alter ego.

"Someone in particular?" Clark asked curiously. "Some are easier to contact than others... you could try leaving a message with the police department."

"The police?"

Clark shrugged. "From what I know, it's who they keep in touch with the most, for the most part."

"Huh. Thanks.”

Clark spends this entire conversation thinking about Batman.

An even easier way would be to just fly there, but Kyle was all about making this secret identity thing a big... buffer. He could only think of one good excuse he'd have to want to contact the Flash, and the costume wasn't it.

Kyle left his name and a message with an amused dispatcher with the Central City P.D. and waited. She didn't seem too enthusiastic about being a messenger, and might not even help him, after all.

He got home, and was busy cooking up some ramen when the phone rang; boiling water splashed all over the floor and he managed to turn off the stove and not burn himself in the scramble to answer it.

I wanted to put in details that made Kyle’s life, at this point, very normal; he’s got a job, a house, and maybe he’s a superhero, but he’s still making a mess with cheap food in his kitchen… and he’s not really used to the idea of being a superhero yet.

"I hear you're lookin' for me."

"Yeah, uh, my name is Kyle Rayner, I'm an artist..."

"Hold on, I hate these things. Where are you?"

"Metropolis."

"A little more specific than that, I think," he said impatiently.

"147 River Street, apartment nineteen..." he'd not finished his sentence before the line went dead, and there was a knock on the door.

Kyle hung up, brushed some stray noodles off his jeans, and answered it; it's one thing to expect a costumed superhero to show up at your door, and quite another for it to happen, and he was a little speechless at the cocky six-foot athlete in red still looking a little impatient.

"An artist, huh?" He let himself in, zipping around and threatening to blow paper everywhere as he looked over the artwork laid around the place, some mounted on the walls. "Not bad. I, for one, have an incomparable grasp of the stick figure.” He tilted his head at a figure charcoal then faced Kyle brightly. “So, where do I fit in?”

I played with Wally’s lines here quite a bit; making them have just enough of a flirty quality to be interesting. And also, to have everything he says really impatient until he hears Kyle’s offer.

"Well, I'm working on a comic book. And I thought it would be cool if, maybe... you could pose for me."

Flash stopped, looking at him like he'd told some strange joke, cleaned up the ramen in the kitchen, and vanished only to re-appear with Chinese take-out. "Picasso, I'm all yours."

It continued, every night for a week, Kyle would come home, and the Flash would show up soon after with a fast food buffet. He would pick at it, while sketching. Sometimes, he would get out panels, but usually... he would get stuck in some aspect of Flash's anatomy that he would draw out in detail. The nude models in college were never this inspiring.

His subject must have noticed this, but never mentioned it; although he was brimming with constant questions. He wanted to know everything about what Kyle was doing, what the art around the place meant, if the soup ad contained some deeper meaning.

He was lost in the way his thighs flexed when pulled up a certain way, and had the Flash lounging in his easy chair with a light on him... but he wouldn't stop moving. Not ever, but Kyle had finally had enough of trying to work through his jumping around, charcoal smudged all over his fingers as he grabbed the Flash by the shoulders and pushed him back sitting down.

Wally makes a terrible model, but he’s lovely to look at. I couldn’t imagine Wally being able to sit still, and it gave Kyle an excellent reason to get all worked up… and accidentally fall…

But he’s just so nice to look at. Kyle falls in love with his body first, I’ll admit that right now.

It threw off his center of balance, but he wasn't wearing the ring for it to stop him from tripping and falling right in his lap, all too aware that they were rubbing together provocatively, and his face was... so close him.

The Flash didn't look surprised for long, looking down at the black smudges on his uniform.

His breath was hot and heavy on Kyle's skin, and they leapt on each other, Kyle thoughtlessly burning for a body like a Greek statue that was warm beneath him, roughly bruising his lips as he kissed him.

I had a lot of fun, with the artist’s perspective of his lover. Comparing him to the standards of beauty in his experience.

They couldn't get their clothes off fast enough, so it was a good thing super-speed was involved, tearing each other to bare skin; the cowl came off, and Kyle had to stop a moment to take in the finished portrait of the other man; wild red hair, a few strands still pressed against his forehead from the cowl, dusted over his tanned chest and vividly bright as it grew curly at the base of his dick.

Of course he had red hair.

They fumbled and groped at each other, neither quite sure of where to go, but desperate for it, tangled and pulling, grinding and moaning until they came, again and again, the Flash endlessly hard and yearning and Kyle running on willpower and lust, without a word as they devoured one another's bodies until neither could take it anymore, and they collapsed on his couch. His little apartment now smelled like sex, giving it a kind of previously absent atmosphere.

It was more fun to have neither of them experienced at first; so this is all new to both of them, and they learn together. I always saw them having sex as being fumbling and chaotic.

After a little while, the Flash got up, pulled his uniform back on, and hesitated putting the cowl back on.

"So, same time tomorrow?"

"Uh, sure," Kyle mumbled, pulling himself together. In a gust of wind, he was alone.

Wally being nonchalant about it, hee. Of course, it’s because he has no idea what else to do, and acting as if everything’s perfectly normal is the easiest route.

He pulled on some pants, and returned to the interrupted sketch, finishing it from memory, without the uniform.

It was frequently absent from later drawings.

Flash liked to lay naked on his couch, tossing crumpled pieces of paper at Kyle until he retaliated, and it soon spiraled into aggressive if still sometimes awkward sex. Penetration that was at first more painful than pleasurable, even as it satisfied their lust, but everything began to fit together so… perfectly.

Kyle was sore and happy collapsed on top of him, content in a way he never thought possible. On top of the world. He cuddled a little closer and groaned contently, thinking it silly he still didn't really know who the Flash was.

"What's your name?"

The Flash just grinned, and let him wonder a little longer.

The next day, he was sketching fuzzy kittens at work, looking forward to going home, when a familiar breeze made him look up.

Standing beside his desk was the Flash, in snug jeans, a green shirt with the top buttons undone over a white undershirt, reaching out his hand and grinning.

"Hi, my name's Wally West. We've never been properly introduced.”

In spite of himself, Wally was nervous about revealing his secret identity. Not because of it being an actual big important secret anymore, but because of his eternal self-esteem issues. Wally West isn’t as cool and interesting as the Flash is; he’s afraid of Kyle seeing him as just a boring ol’ regular guy.

Kyle left for lunch early, and they stopped in a diner down the street, awkwardly quiet until they'd ordered, and were left looking at each other over the table in the booth.

Wally began playing with his fork, and it was strange to think of him this way, as a real person.

Bum bum bum! Exactly what Wally’s afraid of.

"So, you're... from Central City?"

"Yup, last year of school. Looking to follow my uncle's lead, forensics," he said, now trying to balance the spoon on the upturned top of the fork. "Amongst other things."

Wally caught the spoon as it fell, looking up as the waitress brought them their lunch; one cheeseburger with fries for Kyle, four cheeseburgers with fries, an order of onion rings, a baked potato, and a salad for Wally. It took her a couple trips. "I'm a professional eater," he explained apologetically, "working up for the season."

"Order what you'd like, sugar, long as you leave me a tip." She winked at him, and he beamed with boyish charm.

Even in the presence of his lover, he’s ever so flirty with everyone…

"So, I have to know, does anyone not like you?"

"I have a few... villains, you could say. I like to think I'm well-liked, although it's been a while since someone just jumped my bones." He glanced up suggestively over his onion rings. "Not everyone likes me quite that much."

Wally's tongue lingered on his lower lip, leaving it wet and glimmering when he drew it back in.

…and thusly does he offer up a reason for him to stay interesting…

Kyle paid the bill and they left their food mostly uneaten on the table, ducking into a nearby alley.

Wally still tasted like the coffee he'd been downing, kissing sloppily as they fumbled at each other's zippers; Wally won, of course, pushing Kyle against the wall and dropping around Kyle's knees, clutching at his calf as the other hand stroked the base of his erection. Wally's lips were around the head of it, sucking down over his tongue. Kyle swallowed down cries of pleasure, but the nearby busy sidewalk didn't seem very important.

It was filthy and dangerous, and Kyle loved it down to his strangled moan as he came, still gasping for breath as Wally tucked him back away and stood up, brushed a kiss over his lips, and disappeared.

His name was Wally, and Kyle couldn't get enough of him.

In the end, Kyle decides he likes his sex fiend, whatever he’s wearing.

Superman had been right; getting to know a fellow young hero had definitely made things easier.

Kyle had, of course, neglected to mention he was the Green Lantern. Hadn't noticed the ring; but then again, nobody ever did... which was strange. It hadn't come up. So when he was once again locked in battle on the streets of Metropolis, and a familiar red blur appeared for the final blow to... what's his name the overgrown guy in power armor... the Flash approached him ready for a gloating session, and Kyle listened to Wally's assessment of his own physical prowess until he was done, and stopped, waiting for Kyle to say something.

I’d actually forgotten I never mentioned Kyle’s other occupation to Wally up to this point. And took advantage of it.

"What?"

"Has anyone ever told you that you look naked in that uniform?"

"Well, I guess it's a little..." Wally began looking himself over, and Kyle grinned.

"Please, don't apologize. We all like what we see."

Wally looked at him sideways, suspiciously, until he began laughing, howling and stamping at the ground.

"Well, I'll be snookered by a secret identity. Imagine that."

Kyle grabbed onto him and flew up into the sky, feeling the vibrations of Wally's laughter. The police could handle the clean-up, and he'd rather try a little willpower experiment.

He loved the danger, as Wally caught on to his intent and fondled him through the uniform, already making flight more difficult to focus on. Kyle desperately hoped Superman wouldn't decide to fly on by as he stopped, creating a surface for them to writhe together on. Panting and groaning until he could do nothing but focus on the ring through Wally's hand vibrating around him, rubbing against him with his whole body, and his erection hard against Kyle's thigh.

More fumbling, oh-god-I’m-so-horny-but-I-don’t-know-what-to-do sex; I love it.

Kyle grasped around Wally's waist as he felt an orgasm brimming over, and when it broke through him, they fell.

Plummeting to the ground, falling headfirst with Wally screaming something he couldn't make out as the tops of the skyscrapers came up fast and he regained control, sending them both back rocketing up as they adjusted their uniforms and Wally was struggling to catch his breath, grinning and cackling. "That. That was... amazing. Wow."

I wanted to paint their relationship, as much as possible, as fun; especially up to this point, and make a direct contrast when the realities of Kyle’s life set in again.

Reality didn't hit until he changed his calendar to August, with a big green circle around the 30th.

Wally was laying in his arms a few hours later, on top of a red drape he'd thrown down on the chair, looking ethereal in the candlelight Kyle had lit for atmosphere. He wanted one last portrait of him, before he left, even if he had yet to admit that was what it was for. The process had been... pleasantly interrupted.

"How am I supposed to work like this, you bum."

"My bum is just too nice, that's the problem."

They sighed and Kyle stroked his hair, watching the strands gleam as a few caught the light, and he smiled. He wouldn't think of having to leave just yet; he could have a few more minutes.

This little scene always gets me a little teary; I am right now. He’s set up this beautiful scene that his lover’s in, and he knows he has to leave him…

Minutes became days, became two weeks, and finally Kyle greeted Wally by sitting seriously in his living room, looking at the floor as he whisked into regular clothes and sat next to him, waiting silently for Kyle to say something.

"I'm leaving for Oa in two weeks. Training, possible assignment in some distant star system... I don't know when I'll be back. At least a year."

"Oa, that's..."

"Where the Guardians live."

"Right."

Wally sat there for a few more moments then was gone. Kyle didn't expect him back that night, and he didn't come, leaving him alone to a bottle of Jamesons and an unfinished painting on the easel.

He didn't know why he should be so... upset. They'd never had any expectations, they were just fuck buddies. That was all. Kyle wasn't even gay. It was just... something they did. Sex. It didn't mean anything. Just a fabulous lay.

Kyle still has to be macho; he can’t admit to having feelings about Wally. That would take their relationship to a scary place he’s not ready for.

Kyle finished the bottle and sent it through his living room window, screaming after it, the ring sparking on his hand.

He was certain, all through his pencils the next day that he would never see Wally again. He despondently waved Jimmy away, not even pretending to listen to his co-workers talk. They just wanted to talk to themselves, anyway.

Another set of footfalls stopped next to his cubical, and Kyle didn't bother to look up, waving them off absently. "Not now."

"I haven't even gotten to the punch line yet."

Kyle stopped and set the pencil down before he turned around, where Wally was grinning at him in a garish yellow Hawaiian shirt.

"Still shopping at the Salvation Army?"

"You would know."

They snuck out onto the roof, slipping under the Daily Planet globe, making out like teenagers and throwing hushed laugher at each other. He was like a flood of relief, and Kyle would have willingly thrown away all his responsibilities to stay there with him, sweating in the summer heat as the city hummed beneath them in their hiding place.

They don’t really know how to communicate these denied feelings through anything but their sexuality; for the bulk of the story, it’s how they say the important things, and actually speak little.

The roof door opened after a while, and Kyle clapped his hand over Wally's mouth as they both hunched down to stay out of sight.

Clark Kent bent down right next to them, pulling off his clothes, and he was already half revealed in his Superman costume when he noticed Kyle and Wally, half-naked and looking more than a little startled themselves. Both obviously caught in the middle of something they'd been trying to hide, neither party quite sure who was more embarrassed.

It’s just shy of slapstick, I know, but the idea just made me laugh. XD

Wally and Kyle pulled out and stood up, putting their clothes back together as Clark finished changing into the uniform under his clothes, and they faced each other uncomfortably.

"So, uh, you're Superman," Wally said, nodding to himself.

"Um... yeah."

"And we were, uh..."

"During work..."

"Sorry about that, yeah. So, we're cool?"

"Yes, Kyle. It's good to see you were following my advice.”

Clark’s happy that Kyle’s happy, because he’s doing that father figure thing, but no so much he’s going to intrude.

He took off at that, leaving the other two staring at each other.

"I should..."

"Yeah. I'll uh, stop by later."

He thought he should be more surprised, to learn Superman was actually this dude who worked upstairs, but he really wasn't. Although he did tease him a little about cheating to get his by-lines. There was a lot more to Clark Kent than he ever would have suspected.

Kyle gave notice at the end of the day.

By the end of the week, he'd finished the painting. They acted like nothing had changed, even when Kyle began moving his stuff into storage and gave Wally his stereo.

Denial, denial, more denial…

On his last night, there was nothing but some furniture he was leaving here, some stuff in the bathroom, leftover Chinese in the fridge, and Wally cuddling with him on a sleeping bag on the floor. They hadn't said a word all night, and Kyle couldn't think of anything to say if they did.

He stayed all night in silence, and they got ready together the next morning, brushing each other's teeth, washing each other's hair in the shower, breaking open the leftovers. About to step off his home world and off to the great unknown, he enjoyed a little domesticity, for how long it could last.

"You know," Wally said, "I don't think I'm going to get along with your replacement quite this well."

They were both already in uniform, hiding behind their masks, even his voice.

"Who knows, might be some fox."

It fell flat, and they stood together fidgeting.

"I, uh, know it's stupid and... sentimental... but uh, I thought I'd give you this. You know. Souvenir." Wally pressed something into Kyle's hand; a Flash ring, gleaming gold and red.

Kyle nodded, and tucked it away. They didn't know what else to do, so they left.

They’re guys; they don’t want to come off as sentimental to even each other, especially not while they’re feeling emotionally vulnerable like they are, the defenses are up.

They met Kyle's replacement in the Metropolis Park; Superman showed up for the occasion, so it didn't seem so strange the Flash would be, too.

One of the Lanterns was definitely a fox; but it wasn't the one that would be staying behind. A no-nonsense black guy with a shaved head shook his hand firmly, and introduced himself as John Stewart.

The woman was like a golden elf, glowing in the sun with yellow hair and vivid eyes. "My name is Arisia. I'll be your lift to Oa, before we get through space flight." She smiled warmly, and certainly didn't seem like his idea of a Lantern; but then again, neither did he.

Kyle shook hands with Superman, thanking him for all his help, and got to Wally... and grinned nervously, slapping him on the shoulder. "I'll catch you later."

"Have fun in space."

They were smiling when they left, and he flew up into the atmosphere with Arisia. Alone with her, he didn't force himself to smile anymore, but couldn't bring himself to let out the painful lump in his throat.

Continue to Part Two