Of Injuries and Interviews
Title: Of Injuries and Interviews
Characters: Wally West, Iris West, Captain Cold
Word count: 7759
Summary: Wally's holiday in Central City with Iris is interrupted by an unconscious villain. Set in the New 52, after Of Children, Ice, and Baseball Caps.
AN: The bulk of this was written not long after my previous fic (Of Children, Ice, and Baseball Caps), which means that it's not following canon after issue #6 or so. Most importantly, this means that Wally isn't new52!Wally, as him being a fan of the Flash and into science was key to his character pre-boot and that's what I based this on (not to mention his parental situation is different too). I might try writing new52!Wally at some point, but not for this.
Thanks to melinie17 over on livejournal for giving me a kick to finish this.
Jeez, I used to be very itallics happy.
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Wally's fairly certain he knows who the man his aunt is fussing over actually is. You can't be as big a fan of the Flash as Wally is without being able to recognise one of the major players in the Gem City's rogues gallery. New look and powers or not.
Said powers had actually come as a bit of a surprise. Reports can end up a bit convoluted even when they're only travelling to Blue Valley and Iris has been remarkable close-mouthed on the subject.
Anyway, none of that tells Wally what to do.
He's been helping Iris by fetching bandages and discarding tissues of the bloody slush that's seeping out of Captain Cold's wounds. With all the blood and ice, it looks like Iris is going to have to buy a new settee. Despite himself, Wally's fascinated by the science behind the change from human to meta-human. Rumour has it that's how the Flash came about after all.
Iris stands up and wipes her bloody hands on a towel Wally passes her. She gestures and leads them into the kitchen where she can give her hands a proper clean in the sink.
“I know you're not comfortable with this, Wally,” Iris says, “If you want to leave for the afternoon that's fine. You could catch a movie or something.”
“I'm not leaving you alone with him,” Wally says firmly, folding his arms.
“My hero,” Iris says indulgently, ruffling Wally's hair with a wet hand.
Wally backs off, protecting his hair. Iris chuckles and dries her hands on a spare towel.
“He's a criminal,” Wally says, “He hurts people.”
“I know,” Iris says and there's a bit of a sigh in her voice, “Trust me, Wally, please.”
“I do,” Wally says immediately, “I don't trust him. We still don't know how he got injured.”
“If it had been against the police or the Flash, I would've heard about it by now,” Iris says, “So that means there's an interesting story about it.”
Now it's Wally's turn to sigh. “Aunt Iris...”
“I know, I know,” Iris says breezily, “I'm taking a huge risk for my story, it's what reporters do, Wally. You'll understand when you find something you love to do.”
Wally can't help grumbling, but he can't stay mad at Iris. She's his best friend, as sad as that sounds. Wally had been ecstatic when she'd offered to let him stay for the summer. Getting to stay in the Flash's home town and being promised at least one visit to a crime lab was just icing on the cake.
There's a knock at the door and a thrill of dread runs through Wally as he thinks of the villain in the living room. Judging by the look on Iris' face, he's not the only one.
“I'll get that,” Iris says decisively, “You keep an eye on Cold.”
Wally nods, though he keeps an ear on Iris and the front door. From the sounds of it, it's just a delivery which Iris has to sign for. The relief makes Wally sink to the floor and let out a shaky breath.
On his knees, Wally considers Cold's prone form. He's still breathing, which Wally supposes is a good thing, and his eyes are shifting under his lids. Iris' bandages are a little on the sloppy side, but they're holding Cold's wounds together, which is all that's being asked of them.
Wally reaches forward and picks up Cold's wrist from where his arm had fallen off the sofa. The skin is cold and slightly damp. Wally presses his fingers in to find Cold's pulse. Huh, it's regular. Wally had hypothesised that it would be greatly slowed, due to the general drop in temperature that is the obvious indicator of Cold's meta-human physiology.
There is a slightly confused noise and Wally looks up to see Cold's eyes flicker open. They stare at each other for a moment, then Cold launches himself off the sofa and at Wally with a snarl.
Wally finds himself pinned to the ground and ice is beginning to coat his shoulders where Cold's hands are gripping him. There is no way Wally is going to be able to squirm out of a grasp that tight, so he does the only thing he could think of.
Wally's knee comes up sharply and hits Cold squarely in one of the bandages on his abdomen. Cold gives a hiss and moves back, curling in on himself. Wally scrambles backward and only just manages to yank a sofa cushion between him and a blast of ice Cold shoots at him. The ice doesn't pierce the cushion, which gives Wally some hope for surviving a blast without protection.
Wally throws the cushion at Cold and ducks behind the couch. He knew bringing home one of the Flash's enemies was a bad idea. Wally can't see anything to use as a weapon and yelps as ice coats the sofa against his back and makes him spend precious seconds pulling his hoodie free.
Wally makes a break for the closet where he's fairly certain the mop and broom are stored - better a silly weapon than none at all.
A blast of ice seals the closet door before Wally can reach it and Cold catches up with him. Cold grabs Wally by the scruff of his neck then shoves him against the iced-over door. Ice has made its way up Cold's arms and is spreading to the front of Wally's hoodie.
“Where am I?” Cold snarls, “Who the hell are you?”
Wally kicks out, but this time Cold's anticipating it and Wally only gets in a glancing blow. It's enough to make Cold grimace, but not enough to make him loosen his grip. It's now freezing. Wally does the only thing he can and jerks his head forward into Cold's face.
Ow.
They should really mention how much that hurts.
It does the trick though, as Cold lets go of Wally to clutch at his now-bloody nose. Wally blinks away tears as his holds his own aching forehead. He stumbles backward picks up the first thing he can get his hands on.
Of course, this would be the point that Iris walks in.
“Wallace! Leonard!” Iris scolds the pair of them like children.
Cold has the grace to look a little sheepish, while Wally tries to discretely drop Iris' handbag that he'd picked up as a last ditch attempt at defence. It makes a loud thump when it hits the floor. Iris frowns at it and Wally.
“Iris,” Cold starts, but falters when Iris turns her scowl on him.
“Not even five minutes,” Iris says, “And I had to make an excuse for that mailman to stop him investigating further.”
Both Wally and Cold start blaming the other for the fight.
“He started it -”
“- hit me when I'm injured -”
“- tried to ice me -”
“- broke my nose -”
“- didn't provoke him -”
“- wouldn't explain -”
“Enough,” Iris interrupts, “Wally, go fetch some towels and my hair-dryer. Unless you can get the ice off the walls...” she asks Cold pointedly.
He shakes his head.
“Then you're going to help,” Iris says, “After I've made sure your scrap didn't re-open any of your wounds.”
This is about the point where Cold remembers that he's actually a villain and doesn't have to put up with Iris' orders.
“I'm fine,” Cold snaps. It would be a lot more convincing if his voice hadn't been coming out all funny ever since his nose had taken the brunt of Wally's headbutt. The wince when he folds his arms isn't quite hidden enough either. Iris points at the sofa.
“Fix it and sit down,” she orders.
The stare down lasts for some time longer, during which Wally is almost afraid to breathe lest it upset the balance. Eventually Cold rolls his eyes and makes a move toward the sofa. Wally, convinced Iris has the situation in hand, goes to the bathroom for towels and a hair-dryer. When he returns to the living room, Cold is letting Iris set his nose straight.
Wally plugs in the hair-dryer and starts blasting the ice with hot air. It's not all that thick, except at the point where the door meets frame. Wally concentrates on getting it off the wallpaper first, since that's the most likely to suffer water damage.
There's a few grunts and hisses from behind Wally, but any time he glances over his shoulder Cold's staying still and letting Iris poke and prod at his injuries.
“What did you do?” Iris asks, “Get shot?”
“Fell down some stairs,” Cold says, “Really,” he adds when Iris raises an eyebrow at him, “It's pretty nasty I'll have you know.”
“Did these 'stairs' happen to end with a box of knives?” Iris says.
“I was knifed before the stairs,” Cold says, “They were just an unfortunate way out.”
Wally's got most of the ice and melt-water cleared off the wall and door by the time Iris is finished with Cold. Cold gets sent over to help Wally with the last bit that's holding the door closed. He grumbles, but does actually come over.
Cold manages to get his fingers under the edge of the ice and yanks most of it off cleanly. Wally runs a towel over the excess, while Cold gets directed to put the ice in the sink to melt.
Iris has a particular look on her face when Wally finishes up his part of the cleaning and he starts getting worried. That look has never boded well. It's the look Iris uses on the rare occasions she pulls rank and actually reminds Wally that she's his aunt as well as best friend. Apparently Cold recognises it too, because he's looking defensive when Iris frowns at him.
“I expected better,” Iris finally says, “Though frankly, I don't know why I did.”
Wally's feeling awful. He hates it when Iris is disappointed in him. It doesn't happen very often, but that just makes the occasions when it does feel ever worse.
“Wally,” Iris says, turning her attention to him, “I can hardly believe you got into a fight with an injured man. You didn't even try to explain what was going on. I could hear you,” she pre-emptively cuts off Wally's protest, “And you didn't say a word.”
Wally hates the guilt that is bubbling in his stomach. Thankfully, Iris shifts her attention to Cold.
“Leonard,” she starts and Wally's surprised at the disappointment in her voice, he'd expected more venom to be honest, “You attacked - and kept attacking - my fifteen year old nephew. I thought you didn't hurt children.”
“I'm not a child,” Wally blurts before he can stop himself. He shuts his mouth tightly when Iris gives him a look.
“Kid got in some good hits himself,” Cold says, touching his nose where an impressive bruise is starting to form. Wally can't help the stab of pride at seeing it.
“That isn't the point,” Iris snaps.
“Then what is?” Cold snaps back, “When I wake up feeling like I've been several rounds against Superman and there's someone I don't know leaning over me, I'm not going to fucking sit there and let them mess with me.”
There's something in his voice that makes Wally wonder if that has happened before. He can see the reporter-cogs turning in Iris' head too.
Finally, Iris sighs and shakes her head. “Alright, you two, shake hands and make up.”
“What?” the question comes from both of them.
“Apologise,” Iris says, “Go on.”
Neither Wally nor Cold move.
“What's wrong?” Iris huffs, “It's not hard.”
“He's Flash's enemy,” Wally says, at the same time Cold says, “I don't apologise.”
“Right now that doesn't matter,” Iris says, “Shake hands or you -” she points at Cold, “- can just leave right now. And you -” she points at Wally, “- can forget about visiting the forensics lab tomorrow.”
Wally immediately sticks his hand out toward Cold. It was worth swallowing his pride for a moment to keep the promise of a lab visit while he was here in Central. There's mention that the Flash sometimes visits, alongside the obvious chance of seeing scientists at work.
“You want a story, don't you?” Cold says, not making a move to take Wally's hand.
“I always want a story,” Iris says.
Something passes between them, then Cold takes Wally's hand with a smirk. His grip is cool and strong, even though the actual shake lasts less than a second.
Someday, Wally's going to look back at all this and... well, he's not sure 'laugh' is appropriate. Maybe he'll look back and see this as the first sign of his aunt's descent into madness. He hopes it isn't.
“So what's my incentive?” Cold asks. There's a leer on his face that gets Wally's hackles up.
“Dinner,” Iris replies.
“And nothing else,” Wally says firmly.
Cold chuckles and it makes Wally more than a little uncomfortable. Iris doesn't seem to care, but Wally doesn't want his aunt to end up with someone unworthy of her, and you can't get more unworthy than one of Flash's foes.
“Alright,” Cold says, though the leer's still in his voice, “I'm not feeling up to much more right now.”
Wally grabs a book he'd been meaning to read and takes a seat on the far side of the sofa. That's the side closest to the armchair. Unless Iris squeezes onto the sofa too, she'll be as far away from Cold as it's possible to be while still on the living room furniture.
Iris gives Wally an indulgent smile as she sits on the armchair. Her notepad and pen are at the ready. The sofa cushions shift as Cold takes a seat, Wally doesn't look up from his book to see how Flash's most tenacious Rogue is looking at him or his aunt.
“So, Leonard -” another thing that Wally will never get used to, Iris calling Cold by his real name, “- maybe we can start with how you ended up in that alley in such a state.”
“There's a lot more than Rogues versus Flash as far as crime goes in the Gem Cities,” Cold replies.
“The Flash does stop less... colourful robberies and muggings everyday,” Iris agrees, “As well as other crimes.”
“I'm not talking about those ones,” Cold says, “I mean the organised stuff. I mean the ones that try to get a foothold whenever it looks like the Rogues might not be around to stop them.”
“Is the competition really that much of a problem?” Iris asks.
“The more time we spend fighting each other, the more likely it is that Flash'll catch us unawares,” Cold says, “And... I don't like drugs. There are easier ways to make money.”
The admission surprises Wally, as badly covered up as it is. He glances sideways and sees Iris pause for a second in her note-taking.
“So you... confronted these drug-dealers and...” Iris prompts.
“They didn't take it well,” Cold replies, shifting with a wince, “Introduced me to that flight of stairs we mentioned earlier.”
“No backup?” Iris asks, “There have been rumoured sightings of other Rogues around the cities, but they have yet to do something dangerous enough to get the Flash involved.”
“The Rogues are... trying a more independent route to gain better practise with newer powers,” Cold says.
“You had a fight and broke up,” Iris states.
Wally glances up to see Cold scowling heavily. “You make us sound like a group of teenage girls,” Cold grouches.
“If the shoe fits,” Wally mutters under his breath. It earns him a glare from Cold, but either Iris' earlier comments got to him or Cold's feeling his injuries, because he doesn't do anything more.
“The other Rogues don't have anything to do with this,” Cold says, “Don't you have any better questions to ask?”
“I don't suppose you'd be willing to give me the names and location of the group that did this to you,” Iris says, though it's clear in her voice that she already knows the answer.
“I'm not a snitch,” Cold says. He pauses and when Wally checks, there's a certain smirk on his face, “Not sure how far I could've pulled myself in that state though.”
Iris' smile has something of Cold's smirk in it. “Of course,” she says, “Speaking of, could I bring the questions around to how your new powers reacted to your injuries?”
“What?”
“Ice literally in your veins,” Iris says.
Cold touches his fingers to the blood still seeping out of his nose. It's liquid and nothing like the injuries Iris treated earlier. Cold then peels back one of the bandages and looks surprised when he sees that it's iced over. He prods it and gets bloody slush on his fingers.
“Huh,” Cold says, putting the bandage back in place, “Weird.”
“I take it you didn't know about that then,” Iris comments.
“Not as such,” Cold says, “Good to find out in a safe place though.”
“Ice can trap the blood in quicker than it clots,” Wally says. He looks up when there's silence to see Iris and Cold both looking at him, “What? It makes sense.”
“It does,” Iris agrees, “I just hadn't considered...”
“I was bleeding out earlier,” Cold says, “It only iced over when I made it.”
“Instinctive defence,” Wally corrects, “Your body knows what to do and does it best when unconscious.”
Cold turns to Iris and opens his mouth, but she beats him to it.
“No,” Iris says firmly.
“It wouldn't be for -” Cold starts.
“He's younger than Trickster,” Iris says, “Isn't that what you said?”
“I'm not wanting to take him on heists,” Cold says, “Just for research purposes.”
“He is sitting right here,” Wally interrupts, annoyed that they're talking about him like he isn't even there. He gets enough of that from home, thank you very much.
“Sorry, Wally,” Iris says, though she's still frowning at Cold.
“I'm not going to help the Rogues,” Wally continues, “I'm on Flash's side.”
“I hadn't guessed,” Cold says, with a pointed look at Wally's Flash hoodie.
Wally brings his knees up to defend the lightning-bolt insignia. “You're just jealous you don't have any fans.”
“Play nice, boys,” Iris warns them.
Wally already knows the rest of the day isn't going to go very well. Him and Cold just aren't going to get along, no matter what Iris tries.
“Would you like to say anything else, Leonard?” Iris asks.
“You know the cops aren't going to do anything with this, don't you?” Cold says.
“You've just got to find the right cops,” Iris says sweetly.
“They don't exist,” Cold says with a hrmphf.
“You just have to know where to look,” Iris says.
“On about your lab-rat, I suppose,” Cold says.
“He's not my lab-rat,” Iris says, “And he has a name.”
Wally's almost feeling like he's at a tennis match. His book is open on his knees, but he's not paying it any attention.
“Iris?” Wally says and he hopes it didn't come out quite as squeaky as it sounded to him.
“Barry. You'll see him tomorrow, Wally,” Iris says, “He's the one who offered to show you around the lab.”
“Why don't you like cops?” Wally wants to know.
“Would you like them in my position, kid?” Cold asks, “When all that's keeping them out of lock-up is the fact that they've got a badge.”
“The whole 'cop-mentality' thing?” Wally says, “I don't buy into that. You're born good or evil, if you ask me.”
“Shades of grey,” Cold rebuts, “Or you're simplifying things too much.”
“You would say that,” Wally says, “Theft is theft. Assault is assault. It doesn't get any simpler than that.”
Iris is all but forgotten as Wally and Cold's argument starts getting more and more heated.
“You're not looking at the reasoning,” Cold says, “I break into a building unlawfully, I get called a crook. Flash breaks into a building unlawfully, he gets called a hero.”
“Flash isn't a thief,” Wally snaps.
“He sure as hell isn't working for the law,” Cold says.
“But he is working with it,” Wally says, “Ultimately his intent is good.”
“Because he's a 'hero',” Cold spits out the word, “Get the right label attached and they'll let you get away with murder.”
“The Flash doesn't murder. He saves people,” Wally says, “That's why he's a hero. He didn't just get the name out of nowhere.”
“Boys,” Iris interrupts. Which Wally's grateful for, since Cold looks close to making the argument physical - frost has started to creep over his hands. “I'm heading to the bathroom,” Iris adds, “Try not to kill each other.”
Wally wants to beg her not to leave him alone with Cold, but if the look Iris is giving him is any indication, she wants them to try to get along. Wally pointedly picks up his book and starts reading again.
“Want some ice for your head, kid?” Cold asks.
“What?” Wally asks, then his head decides to throb slightly and remind him that he smashed it pretty hard earlier.
Without waiting for more of an answer than Wally's wince, Cold presses one hand against Wally's forehead. The temperature is shocking, but very quickly soothes the ache. Cold pulls his hand away slowly and leaves behind a sheet of ice. Wally's pretty sure it's going to start dripping soon, but for now it's pleasant.
“Thanks,” Wally says, because his manners are ingrained enough to do so.
“Don't mention it,” Cold says, his response sounds somewhat instinctive too, which is a bit of surprise.
There's silence. Wally finds himself reading the same line over and over, but he doesn't want to start up the argument again. Finally it gets too much for Wally and he blurts out.
“I'm into physics and chemistry more than biology.”
“Hmm?” Cold's frowning now.
“I mean, I wouldn't be much good at figuring out your powers,” Wally elaborates, “That's what you meant earlier, right? You'd do better with someone who actually knows... would it be cryobiology?”
“Bit hard to find someone sympathetic in that field,” Cold says, “Considering how much of a mess Killer Frost's made things.”
Wally winces. Even in Blue Valley he's heard how Killer Frost terrorised or completely slaughtered almost every person in the field of cryogenics. Cold doesn't have as high a body-count, but he's still a villain and the scientists that are left are unlikely to help.
“Flash could -” Wally starts.
“I'm not asking Flash for help,” Cold snarls. Any and all progress Wally's made is suddenly gone.
“He's the best test you've got,” Wally says.
“And any time I want to try something new I'll have to deal with Iron Heights,” Cold says, “No chance.”
They lapse into silence again. Wally manages to focus long enough to get through a couple of paragraphs. Then he gets distracted by Cold practising his ice powers. He's not doing anything fancy, just letting it form and dissipate, but it's still a bit of a novelty to watch.
“How long does she usually take?” Cold asks.
“Iris?” Wally says, glancing over at the direction of the bathroom, “Not this long. I should check up on her.”
Thankful for the excuse to leave, Wally takes his book with him as he heads toward the bathroom. Iris has been gone something close to fifteen minutes. While that may be normal for some people, Iris doesn't dawdle by any stretch of the imagination.
“Iris?” Wally asks, knocking on the bathroom door, “Is everything ok?”
There's no answer. Wally tries the handle and the door opens, unlocked. Wally slips in and finds chaos.
The cabinet of toiletries has been knocked off the wall, its contents scattered over the room. The mat that usually lives beside the shower is scrunched up against the toilet. The window is smashed.
Wally runs over to the window, mind reeling at how he could've missed all this going on. There's no sign of Iris or possible attackers.
“Hell,” Wally mutters. He frowns. His word came out distorted. “Hello?” Wally tries, a bit louder. Still funny-sounding.
Wally sticks his head out of the bathroom and tries again. “Hello?” this time it comes out fine. Weird.
Wally starts searching the bathroom for the cause of this effect. He is just pulling a strange black box out of a pile of toiletries when Cold looks in.
“Shit,” Cold says silently, which Wally can clearly lip-read.
Wally locates the off switch and sound fills the room again. It's strange how much Wally wasn't hearing. The rushing wind through the broken window is louder than Wally would've expected.
“This is your fault,” Wally snaps at Cold, who is looking out of the window.
“How?” Cold snaps back, “I was unconscious when you brought me here. It's not like I could shake their tail.”
“You pissed them off,” Wally says, “And now they've gone after Iris.” He hates the way his voice hitches at the last word.
“She's a tough lady,” Cold says, “She'll be able to take care of herself until I get there.”
Wally follows Cold through to the living room. “Until we get there,” Wally corrects.
Cold stops and frowns at Wally. “Not a chance, kid.”
“You think you can do this on your own?” Wally says, trying to appeal to common sense, “You said they stabbed you last time.”
“I don't work with anyone younger than Trickster,” Cold says.
“She's my aunt,” Wally says, “My best friend. Please.”
“What use are you gonna be?” Cold asks.
“I'm quick,” Wally says, “Small too.” he's not really, not for his age, but against adults he's still got some growing to do. “And I'm smart.”
“These guys are playing for keeps,” Cold warns, “They're going to shoot at you, kid or not.”
“I'm not leaving my aunt,” Wally says hotly.
Cold gives a sharp nod. “Does she have any weapons you can use. Mace, maybe?”
Wally picks up Iris' handbag and searches through. It doesn't take him long to find a taser. It's a short-range one, so he doesn't have to worry about re-loading. Just that he'll have to be in close range with the enemy.
“Keys,” Cold says, at Wally's confusion he adds, “You'll need her keys. Take her phone too - make sure it's on silent - that way if it turns into too much of a fuck up you can get help.”
“We could try and contact the Flash,” Wally suggests.
“No,” Cold says, “It's already a tricky situation. Flash tends to complicate things.”
“Wait,” Wally says, as Cold heads for the door, “You're going out like that?”
All Cold needs are his goggles on and his hood up to be in full 'Captain Cold' mode.
“You got a better idea?” Cold asks.
“Two minutes,” Wally says as he runs into his room.
Despite having only been here for a couple of weeks, Wally's room is a tip. It takes him longer than it should to come across what he's looking for. He's surprised when he finds Cold still waiting.
“Here,” Wally says, shoving a jacket into Cold's hands, “That should cover you until we get close.”
Cold opens the jacket with distaste clearly on his face. “Not a chance in hell.”
“It's not Flash,” Wally says, “It's -”
“Just as bad,” Cold finishes.
“Are you going to argue about this or help me save Iris?” Wally demands.
Cold grumbles, but puts the jacket on. Green Lantern isn't exactly subtle, but it does its job of distracting away from his usual costume.
“Ready to go?” Wally asks, double checking his pockets for key, phone, and taser.
Cold doesn't reply, instead just walking out of the door. Wally makes sure its locked and jogs to catch up with Cold. They don't meet anyone until they get outside. Wally gives a sigh of relief
“So, which way are we going?” Wally wants to know.
“Stick close,” Cold says, “It's not far.”
He's right, it's only a few blocks before Cold yanks Wally sharply into an alley. Wally manages to keep in his yelp at being moved unexpectedly.
“Put these on,” Cold says, pressing his goggles into Wally's hands, “And keep your hood up. It's best if they don't get a good look at you.”
“What about you?” Wally asks, sliding the goggles over his head. He has to adjust to the sudden tunnel-vision.
“I want them to notice me,” Cold says, shrugging the jacket off and drawing himself up to his full height, “Follow me at a distance, ok, kid? Find your aunt and get out of there.”
Those are priorities Wally can get behind. He tugs his hood up and nods to Cold. Cold's own hood is up and he's formed crude goggles out of ice over his eyes. There's something hard in his face that Wally's not actually seen in person before.
“Twenty seconds,” Cold says, patting Wally on the shoulder and walking off.
Wally almost uses his watch to count, then he realises he should really see where Cold's going. Twenty seconds passes relatively slowly then Wally finally starts to follow.
Cold turned right at the end of the alley. Wally peers around the corner and doesn't see anyone. He trots down the next alley, keeping an eye out for anyone else. He's adjusted to the goggles' limited vision surprisingly easily. Possibly a by-product of playing video games - and mom said they were bad for him.
There's another fork and, again, Wally doesn't see anyone either way. He's starting to feel a little paranoid. Something glitters out of the corner of his eye and he sees a splatter of ice on the corner leading left. Left it is.
Wally gets about halfway along the alley when he comes across two men. They're unconscious and mostly coated in ice. At least Wally knows he's going in the right direction. He takes the taser out and approaches the door nearby. It's ajar and also has a frost pattern on it.
There's more ice inside. A handful of bullets are on the floor, completely encased. More bodies. Sometimes with a limb shattered, but all alive. Wally moves on quickly. He's catching Cold up, the sounds of fighting is becoming clearer.
There comes a point when Wally finds another door with Cold's usual frost pattern on it and he decides to take another route. Cold's been staying on the ground floor, if Wally can get higher, he'll be in a better vantage point. Especially with the way this is a warehouse and most of the best rooms are two stories or more.
Wally's beginning to feel confident, when he runs into somebody. He'd gotten used to the idea that Cold had taken out everyone and hadn't appreciated that it didn't count when Wally deviated from the path.
The man has a gun, which he points at Wally. Wally freezes, though manages to keep the taser out of the guy's view.
“What the hell are you doing here, boy?” the man asks, “This isn't a place for playing.”
“I'm lost,” Wally says, inwardly cringing at how typical that sounds.
“Yeah, right,” the man says, unimpressed, he moves toward Wally, “Come on.”
He grabs Wally's arm and Wally shoves the taser against the man's side. There's a bzzzpt and a smell of burning flesh that Wally won't soon be forgetting. The man collapses, but he's not knocked out. Wally manages to kick the gun out of the man's hand then hits him on the head. This time the man passes out.
Wally coughs and feels a bit sick. He pushes it down and checks the taser. Enough charge for three more blasts. Wally considers the gun, but ultimately he has no clue how to use one and the idea leaves him feeling even more sick. He makes do by kicking it into a corner and heading on.
The sound of fighting is loudest by one door. Wally slips through and finds himself on a catwalk. Some of the railings are out of repair, but that's not the reason his heart leaps into his mouth.
Iris is being held by a man. She's unconscious and has her hands bound as well as a gag stuffed into her mouth. The man's only sparing her one arm, his other hand is holding something Wally can't see. Wally starts creeping forward. As he moves further into the room, he can see Cold fighting on the floor below.
Cold's outnumbered and definitely in a much worse state than when Wally last saw him. By the looks of things Cold's got an aura of absolute zero up, which is the only reason he's alive. One of his opponents takes a shot at him, but the bullets don't reach Cold before they freeze over and fall to the ground. Cold's looking tired from what Wally can see. His own shots at his opponents are getting sloppy. Ice hits the walls and crates more often than it hits a person.
“Ready to surrender yet, Snart?” the man holding Iris asks.
“Fuck you,” Cold snaps.
The man holds out the object in his hand and Wally sees what it is quite clearly. A detonator.
Oh hell.
The man is calling something more down at Cold, but Wally's not listening. He picks up a piece of railing and launches himself at the man.
Wally brings down the railing on the man's arm and the detonator tumbles from his grasp. The man lets go of Iris and turns to Wally with a snarl on his face. Wally ducks the first punch, but the second catches him in the stomach and he drops to his knees, wheezing.
The man gives Wally a hard kick and Wally tumbles against a railing, which gives way under his weight. Wally barely manages to grab the edge as both he and the railing fall.
The man walks away, heading toward the door that Wally came through. He pulls another detonator out of his jacket and presses it as he leaves. Wally's just got one leg onto the catwalk when everything goes to hell.
Several crates below explode. It's not quite as sharp a noise as Wally expected, instead its mostly a roaring sound. When Wally pulls himself completely up he glances down and sees that it's not so much an explosion as a really nasty fire.
The men Cold was fighting are now fighting each other for the exit. Wally can't see Cold through the smoke. Wally has his priorities though, and he picks up Iris and stumbles toward the exit.
It's awkward and difficult, but Wally manages to navigate the stairs and get outside. There wasn't any sign of the guy Wally had knocked out and he hopes he made it out alive.
Wally sits Iris up against the alley wall and starts untying her wrists. A click from behind him stops him cold.
“You almost cost me a great deal,” it's the man who had the detonator earlier. Wally slowly turns around and finds himself face to face with the end of a gun barrel, “You're lucky I'm always prepared.”
The gun flicks to one side and Wally slowly stands up and moves. All he can think about is the pipe and taser he left on the catwalk and how they'd be no use against a gun.
“You tell Miss West, when she wakes up, to stay out of our business,” the man continues, “We're not all that fond of reporters.”
“We weren't in your business,” Wally says, ignoring the part of his brain that's telling him to shut up, “We were just helping someone injured.”
“Don't make me laugh,” the man snorts, “Everyone knows who Captain Cold is. Our business doesn't need some nosy reporter butting in. Or else...”
“Or else what?” Wally says and the sensible part of his brain is now screaming at him.
The gun lowers. Wally's just about to breathe a sigh of relief when there's a bang and white-hot pain lances through his right thigh. Wally collapses with a cry. The man says something else, but Wally doesn't take in a word. His leg hurts like nothing else ever has before.
Awareness comes back to Wally in a sudden moment. The men have vanished and there's a worrying amount of blood on his trousers. His leg is throbbing, but there's something to be said for adrenalin keeping the worst of the pain away.
Wally gets the rope off Iris' hands and ties it around his leg in a makeshift tourniquet. He then takes out Iris' phone and dials for an ambulance. Its awkward explaining how to get to them, but he manages.
It comes to Wally that he hasn't seen Cold. He might not be an expert in cryobiology, but he does know that ice in a fire isn't going to go well for the ice. There's the temptation to just leave him - he is a criminal after all - but Wally knows a good person doesn't leave anyone for dead. The Flash certainly wouldn't.
Adrenalin might be keeping the pain down, but Wally still can't put anything close to full weight on his right leg. He ends up doing an awkward shuffle-hop, using bits of furniture and the wall for support. He comes across a hatstand not too far into the building and uses it in place of a crutch.
Thick black smoke is billowing out of the doorway when Wally finally reaches the room in question. He lets his sleeve slide down over his hand and clamps it to his mouth then plunges into the room.
It's hard to see. Cold's goggle aren't helping, but Wally pretty sure that taking them off is a worse idea. Wally counts the floorboards under his feet. As long as he knows how far it is to the door, he should be able to get out.
There's a crackle and Wally heads toward it. He doesn't see the ice in time and slips, jarring his leg painfully. Wally cries out and someone grips his shoulder. Wally looks up to see Cold.
Cold looks like he's sweating, but upon closer inspection, Wally realises he's drenched in water. Frost forms, only to melt and leave Cold even wetter. He also looks close to passing out.
“Idiot,” Cold hisses.
Wally can only manage a weak smile behind his hand. He tries to get to his feet, but his leg isn't cooperating any more. It hurts and Wally's getting tired. He can't give up though and tries again, with even less success.
Icy hands wrap around his thigh at the bullet wound and Cold manages to sum up enough strength to coat Wally's leg in ice from hip to thigh. It numbs the pain and goes some way to splinting Wally's leg. He's still not going to be walking on it any time soon, but it lets him stand up.
Cold's looking even paler than normal, almost grey, and sways when Wally helps him up. Wally stumbles when he tries to take a step and Cold grabs him, only for Cold to stumble too and almost bring them both down. Wally only just gets his hatstand-crutch in the right place in time.
Their walk is shuffling, halting, and slow, but it gets them to the wall. Wally's direction must've been off, though his count was correct. Wally hopes he's chosen the right way and leads Cold sideways. It's a little easier now Cold can put some of his weight on the wall.
Thankfully, they come across the door. The smoke is still in the next room, but it's so much thinner here. Breathing gets easier, which helps fuel their stumble. The edges of Wally's vision keep sparkling black and Cold's caught himself a few times already. They're so close to the exit now though.
Cold starts coughing and spits out several black globs of gunk. Wally doesn't want to think about what the smoke has done to his own lungs. He's already ignoring his gunshot wound.
The sounds of activity reach them as they get close to the alley. Wally doesn't care who it is, he just wants to get out of the building and pass out. Cold doesn't slow down either, so he doesn't care or he hasn't picked up on the noise yet. Wally isn't going to bet either way.
Thankfully, it's an ambulance and a group of paramedics. Iris is awake and the second Wally and Cold emerge into clean air, she's pushing her way over to them. Wally barely has time to untangle himself from Cold and the hatstand before Iris sweeps him up in her arms. It's more than a little embarrassing now he's fifteen, however, he's glad she's ok.
Iris pulls back and turns her attention to Cold, who's on his feet by sheer force of will. Wally just manages to grab the hatstand again before his leg gives out.
“You -” Iris says sharply, “I should - you dragged my nephew into - I can't believe -”
Rare is the occasion when Iris is at a loss for words. Wally winces when she takes a determined step forward and pokes Cold in the chest.
“Thought the rescuer was supposed to get a kiss,” Cold says between coughs.
Wally stares at Cold's audacity. Iris isn't amused and her glare couldn't be sharper.
“I will never forgive you if Wally doesn't recover from this,” Iris says.
The moment she steps back, Cold finally passes out. The paramedics swarm on him and Wally feels a tug at his arm. He looks to see a paramedic giving him a smile.
Finally safe, Wally lets the blackness overtake him and falls unconscious.
--------------------
When Wally wakes up it's dark and there's a beeping noise. Awareness is hard to catch ahold of, but it slowly dawns on Wally that he's in a hospital bed. The beeping is the machine he's hooked up to. Crystal clarity is still elusive, but Wally reasons he's probably drugged up because his leg doesn't hurt.
He sees Iris asleep in the chair next to his bed. She looks uncomfortable, but she also looks exhausted, so Wally doesn't wake her up immediately. Instead he spends some time looking over the rest of the room.
There are other people there, but Wally can't spot Cold. He glances back at Iris to see furious blue eyes glaring at him. She's awake.
“Erm...” Wally tries before he breaks off coughing.
Iris' frown lessens as she gives Wally a cup of water. The liquid is heaven against his abused throat. Iris doesn't let him start again.
“I can't believe what you did, Wally,” Iris says. She's keeping her voice low to avoid disturbing the other people in the ward, but Wally can hear the anger there.
“I -” Wally starts again.
“Don't talk,” Iris interrupts, “From what the paramedics said, you called them.”
“Yes, but -” Wally says.
“Yet when I came to, you were inside the building,” Iris says, “And the paramedics were expecting a bullet wound and I hadn't been shot.”
“Iris -” Wally begins.
“Did you drag Captain Cold out of a burning building after you'd been shot through the leg?” Iris says and it's obvious she wants the answer to be 'no'.
“Well...” Wally rubs the back of his head sheepishly, “He dragged me as much as I dragged him.”
“Wally,” Iris sighs, “There's a difference between bravery and idiocy. It's a fine line, but there is a difference.”
Wally's throat catches and he starts coughing again. He downs another cup of water. There's a whole jug on the table by his bed, it looks like someone predicted how he'd feel after inhaling all that smoke, even through his sleeve.
“I called your parents,” Iris says, “They can't make it to the Gem Cities at the moment, but they're considering cutting your visit with me short.”
“No!” the machine by Wally's bed starts beeping faster, “Please let me stay. You still haven't let me see the forensics lab yet.”
“And at this rate, you'll never see it,” Iris warns, “You can plead your case to your parents when you call them to check up. You were lucky, by the way, the doctors said half an inch in any other direction and you may have lost the use of your leg entirely or even died.”
Wally gulps. He hadn't really thought about that at the time. If he had he might not have flung himself around quite so carelessly.
“But I'll still be able to walk, right?” Wally confirms.
“They think so,” Iris says, “But you're on crutches for a few weeks after you get out of here.”
Wally pulls a face, but it could be a hell of a lot worse. He's getting tired again. Some of the stress has left Iris and Wally supposes it's because he's woken up and isn't possibly comatose.
“Where's Cold?” Wally asks, yawning.
“He's in intensive care until they can move him to Iron Heights,” Iris replies, “Get some rest, you need it.”
Wally can't deny the tug of sleep and soon he slips under.
--------------------
It takes another day for Wally to be cleared and let out with a new pair of crutches. He has to make a couple of circuits of the room completely before Iris is happy enough to sign him out. It sucks being fifteen sometimes.
“Ready to go then?” Iris asks.
“Yup,” Wally says, gripping his crutches tightly.
The journey from hospital bed to outside the hospital is surprisingly hard work. Wally's arms aren't used to being worked this much. He's glad Iris doesn't make them walk back to her apartment as punishment, instead hailing a taxi from the bay.
Wally's also prepared to worship the inventor of the elevator, because there's no way he's going to get up to Iris' floor otherwise.
He's supposed to stay off his feet for the next week, but it's boring. Iris is still working and Wally can't tag along after her. As interesting as his books are, Wally can't focus on them for days on end. Any internet searches for cryobiology are coming up blank. The only thing that's keeping Wally from climbing the walls is the chance to take apart and examine the black sound-blocking box.
Then finally, finally, the week is up and Wally's allowed to go outside again. He's got a crime lab to visit and a sighting of the Flash to catch. Maybe he'll even manage to avoid trouble for the rest of his vacation.
Characters: Wally West, Iris West, Captain Cold
Word count: 7759
Summary: Wally's holiday in Central City with Iris is interrupted by an unconscious villain. Set in the New 52, after Of Children, Ice, and Baseball Caps.
AN: The bulk of this was written not long after my previous fic (Of Children, Ice, and Baseball Caps), which means that it's not following canon after issue #6 or so. Most importantly, this means that Wally isn't new52!Wally, as him being a fan of the Flash and into science was key to his character pre-boot and that's what I based this on (not to mention his parental situation is different too). I might try writing new52!Wally at some point, but not for this.
Thanks to melinie17 over on livejournal for giving me a kick to finish this.
Jeez, I used to be very itallics happy.
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Wally's fairly certain he knows who the man his aunt is fussing over actually is. You can't be as big a fan of the Flash as Wally is without being able to recognise one of the major players in the Gem City's rogues gallery. New look and powers or not.
Said powers had actually come as a bit of a surprise. Reports can end up a bit convoluted even when they're only travelling to Blue Valley and Iris has been remarkable close-mouthed on the subject.
Anyway, none of that tells Wally what to do.
He's been helping Iris by fetching bandages and discarding tissues of the bloody slush that's seeping out of Captain Cold's wounds. With all the blood and ice, it looks like Iris is going to have to buy a new settee. Despite himself, Wally's fascinated by the science behind the change from human to meta-human. Rumour has it that's how the Flash came about after all.
Iris stands up and wipes her bloody hands on a towel Wally passes her. She gestures and leads them into the kitchen where she can give her hands a proper clean in the sink.
“I know you're not comfortable with this, Wally,” Iris says, “If you want to leave for the afternoon that's fine. You could catch a movie or something.”
“I'm not leaving you alone with him,” Wally says firmly, folding his arms.
“My hero,” Iris says indulgently, ruffling Wally's hair with a wet hand.
Wally backs off, protecting his hair. Iris chuckles and dries her hands on a spare towel.
“He's a criminal,” Wally says, “He hurts people.”
“I know,” Iris says and there's a bit of a sigh in her voice, “Trust me, Wally, please.”
“I do,” Wally says immediately, “I don't trust him. We still don't know how he got injured.”
“If it had been against the police or the Flash, I would've heard about it by now,” Iris says, “So that means there's an interesting story about it.”
Now it's Wally's turn to sigh. “Aunt Iris...”
“I know, I know,” Iris says breezily, “I'm taking a huge risk for my story, it's what reporters do, Wally. You'll understand when you find something you love to do.”
Wally can't help grumbling, but he can't stay mad at Iris. She's his best friend, as sad as that sounds. Wally had been ecstatic when she'd offered to let him stay for the summer. Getting to stay in the Flash's home town and being promised at least one visit to a crime lab was just icing on the cake.
There's a knock at the door and a thrill of dread runs through Wally as he thinks of the villain in the living room. Judging by the look on Iris' face, he's not the only one.
“I'll get that,” Iris says decisively, “You keep an eye on Cold.”
Wally nods, though he keeps an ear on Iris and the front door. From the sounds of it, it's just a delivery which Iris has to sign for. The relief makes Wally sink to the floor and let out a shaky breath.
On his knees, Wally considers Cold's prone form. He's still breathing, which Wally supposes is a good thing, and his eyes are shifting under his lids. Iris' bandages are a little on the sloppy side, but they're holding Cold's wounds together, which is all that's being asked of them.
Wally reaches forward and picks up Cold's wrist from where his arm had fallen off the sofa. The skin is cold and slightly damp. Wally presses his fingers in to find Cold's pulse. Huh, it's regular. Wally had hypothesised that it would be greatly slowed, due to the general drop in temperature that is the obvious indicator of Cold's meta-human physiology.
There is a slightly confused noise and Wally looks up to see Cold's eyes flicker open. They stare at each other for a moment, then Cold launches himself off the sofa and at Wally with a snarl.
Wally finds himself pinned to the ground and ice is beginning to coat his shoulders where Cold's hands are gripping him. There is no way Wally is going to be able to squirm out of a grasp that tight, so he does the only thing he could think of.
Wally's knee comes up sharply and hits Cold squarely in one of the bandages on his abdomen. Cold gives a hiss and moves back, curling in on himself. Wally scrambles backward and only just manages to yank a sofa cushion between him and a blast of ice Cold shoots at him. The ice doesn't pierce the cushion, which gives Wally some hope for surviving a blast without protection.
Wally throws the cushion at Cold and ducks behind the couch. He knew bringing home one of the Flash's enemies was a bad idea. Wally can't see anything to use as a weapon and yelps as ice coats the sofa against his back and makes him spend precious seconds pulling his hoodie free.
Wally makes a break for the closet where he's fairly certain the mop and broom are stored - better a silly weapon than none at all.
A blast of ice seals the closet door before Wally can reach it and Cold catches up with him. Cold grabs Wally by the scruff of his neck then shoves him against the iced-over door. Ice has made its way up Cold's arms and is spreading to the front of Wally's hoodie.
“Where am I?” Cold snarls, “Who the hell are you?”
Wally kicks out, but this time Cold's anticipating it and Wally only gets in a glancing blow. It's enough to make Cold grimace, but not enough to make him loosen his grip. It's now freezing. Wally does the only thing he can and jerks his head forward into Cold's face.
Ow.
They should really mention how much that hurts.
It does the trick though, as Cold lets go of Wally to clutch at his now-bloody nose. Wally blinks away tears as his holds his own aching forehead. He stumbles backward picks up the first thing he can get his hands on.
Of course, this would be the point that Iris walks in.
“Wallace! Leonard!” Iris scolds the pair of them like children.
Cold has the grace to look a little sheepish, while Wally tries to discretely drop Iris' handbag that he'd picked up as a last ditch attempt at defence. It makes a loud thump when it hits the floor. Iris frowns at it and Wally.
“Iris,” Cold starts, but falters when Iris turns her scowl on him.
“Not even five minutes,” Iris says, “And I had to make an excuse for that mailman to stop him investigating further.”
Both Wally and Cold start blaming the other for the fight.
“He started it -”
“- hit me when I'm injured -”
“- tried to ice me -”
“- broke my nose -”
“- didn't provoke him -”
“- wouldn't explain -”
“Enough,” Iris interrupts, “Wally, go fetch some towels and my hair-dryer. Unless you can get the ice off the walls...” she asks Cold pointedly.
He shakes his head.
“Then you're going to help,” Iris says, “After I've made sure your scrap didn't re-open any of your wounds.”
This is about the point where Cold remembers that he's actually a villain and doesn't have to put up with Iris' orders.
“I'm fine,” Cold snaps. It would be a lot more convincing if his voice hadn't been coming out all funny ever since his nose had taken the brunt of Wally's headbutt. The wince when he folds his arms isn't quite hidden enough either. Iris points at the sofa.
“Fix it and sit down,” she orders.
The stare down lasts for some time longer, during which Wally is almost afraid to breathe lest it upset the balance. Eventually Cold rolls his eyes and makes a move toward the sofa. Wally, convinced Iris has the situation in hand, goes to the bathroom for towels and a hair-dryer. When he returns to the living room, Cold is letting Iris set his nose straight.
Wally plugs in the hair-dryer and starts blasting the ice with hot air. It's not all that thick, except at the point where the door meets frame. Wally concentrates on getting it off the wallpaper first, since that's the most likely to suffer water damage.
There's a few grunts and hisses from behind Wally, but any time he glances over his shoulder Cold's staying still and letting Iris poke and prod at his injuries.
“What did you do?” Iris asks, “Get shot?”
“Fell down some stairs,” Cold says, “Really,” he adds when Iris raises an eyebrow at him, “It's pretty nasty I'll have you know.”
“Did these 'stairs' happen to end with a box of knives?” Iris says.
“I was knifed before the stairs,” Cold says, “They were just an unfortunate way out.”
Wally's got most of the ice and melt-water cleared off the wall and door by the time Iris is finished with Cold. Cold gets sent over to help Wally with the last bit that's holding the door closed. He grumbles, but does actually come over.
Cold manages to get his fingers under the edge of the ice and yanks most of it off cleanly. Wally runs a towel over the excess, while Cold gets directed to put the ice in the sink to melt.
Iris has a particular look on her face when Wally finishes up his part of the cleaning and he starts getting worried. That look has never boded well. It's the look Iris uses on the rare occasions she pulls rank and actually reminds Wally that she's his aunt as well as best friend. Apparently Cold recognises it too, because he's looking defensive when Iris frowns at him.
“I expected better,” Iris finally says, “Though frankly, I don't know why I did.”
Wally's feeling awful. He hates it when Iris is disappointed in him. It doesn't happen very often, but that just makes the occasions when it does feel ever worse.
“Wally,” Iris says, turning her attention to him, “I can hardly believe you got into a fight with an injured man. You didn't even try to explain what was going on. I could hear you,” she pre-emptively cuts off Wally's protest, “And you didn't say a word.”
Wally hates the guilt that is bubbling in his stomach. Thankfully, Iris shifts her attention to Cold.
“Leonard,” she starts and Wally's surprised at the disappointment in her voice, he'd expected more venom to be honest, “You attacked - and kept attacking - my fifteen year old nephew. I thought you didn't hurt children.”
“I'm not a child,” Wally blurts before he can stop himself. He shuts his mouth tightly when Iris gives him a look.
“Kid got in some good hits himself,” Cold says, touching his nose where an impressive bruise is starting to form. Wally can't help the stab of pride at seeing it.
“That isn't the point,” Iris snaps.
“Then what is?” Cold snaps back, “When I wake up feeling like I've been several rounds against Superman and there's someone I don't know leaning over me, I'm not going to fucking sit there and let them mess with me.”
There's something in his voice that makes Wally wonder if that has happened before. He can see the reporter-cogs turning in Iris' head too.
Finally, Iris sighs and shakes her head. “Alright, you two, shake hands and make up.”
“What?” the question comes from both of them.
“Apologise,” Iris says, “Go on.”
Neither Wally nor Cold move.
“What's wrong?” Iris huffs, “It's not hard.”
“He's Flash's enemy,” Wally says, at the same time Cold says, “I don't apologise.”
“Right now that doesn't matter,” Iris says, “Shake hands or you -” she points at Cold, “- can just leave right now. And you -” she points at Wally, “- can forget about visiting the forensics lab tomorrow.”
Wally immediately sticks his hand out toward Cold. It was worth swallowing his pride for a moment to keep the promise of a lab visit while he was here in Central. There's mention that the Flash sometimes visits, alongside the obvious chance of seeing scientists at work.
“You want a story, don't you?” Cold says, not making a move to take Wally's hand.
“I always want a story,” Iris says.
Something passes between them, then Cold takes Wally's hand with a smirk. His grip is cool and strong, even though the actual shake lasts less than a second.
Someday, Wally's going to look back at all this and... well, he's not sure 'laugh' is appropriate. Maybe he'll look back and see this as the first sign of his aunt's descent into madness. He hopes it isn't.
“So what's my incentive?” Cold asks. There's a leer on his face that gets Wally's hackles up.
“Dinner,” Iris replies.
“And nothing else,” Wally says firmly.
Cold chuckles and it makes Wally more than a little uncomfortable. Iris doesn't seem to care, but Wally doesn't want his aunt to end up with someone unworthy of her, and you can't get more unworthy than one of Flash's foes.
“Alright,” Cold says, though the leer's still in his voice, “I'm not feeling up to much more right now.”
Wally grabs a book he'd been meaning to read and takes a seat on the far side of the sofa. That's the side closest to the armchair. Unless Iris squeezes onto the sofa too, she'll be as far away from Cold as it's possible to be while still on the living room furniture.
Iris gives Wally an indulgent smile as she sits on the armchair. Her notepad and pen are at the ready. The sofa cushions shift as Cold takes a seat, Wally doesn't look up from his book to see how Flash's most tenacious Rogue is looking at him or his aunt.
“So, Leonard -” another thing that Wally will never get used to, Iris calling Cold by his real name, “- maybe we can start with how you ended up in that alley in such a state.”
“There's a lot more than Rogues versus Flash as far as crime goes in the Gem Cities,” Cold replies.
“The Flash does stop less... colourful robberies and muggings everyday,” Iris agrees, “As well as other crimes.”
“I'm not talking about those ones,” Cold says, “I mean the organised stuff. I mean the ones that try to get a foothold whenever it looks like the Rogues might not be around to stop them.”
“Is the competition really that much of a problem?” Iris asks.
“The more time we spend fighting each other, the more likely it is that Flash'll catch us unawares,” Cold says, “And... I don't like drugs. There are easier ways to make money.”
The admission surprises Wally, as badly covered up as it is. He glances sideways and sees Iris pause for a second in her note-taking.
“So you... confronted these drug-dealers and...” Iris prompts.
“They didn't take it well,” Cold replies, shifting with a wince, “Introduced me to that flight of stairs we mentioned earlier.”
“No backup?” Iris asks, “There have been rumoured sightings of other Rogues around the cities, but they have yet to do something dangerous enough to get the Flash involved.”
“The Rogues are... trying a more independent route to gain better practise with newer powers,” Cold says.
“You had a fight and broke up,” Iris states.
Wally glances up to see Cold scowling heavily. “You make us sound like a group of teenage girls,” Cold grouches.
“If the shoe fits,” Wally mutters under his breath. It earns him a glare from Cold, but either Iris' earlier comments got to him or Cold's feeling his injuries, because he doesn't do anything more.
“The other Rogues don't have anything to do with this,” Cold says, “Don't you have any better questions to ask?”
“I don't suppose you'd be willing to give me the names and location of the group that did this to you,” Iris says, though it's clear in her voice that she already knows the answer.
“I'm not a snitch,” Cold says. He pauses and when Wally checks, there's a certain smirk on his face, “Not sure how far I could've pulled myself in that state though.”
Iris' smile has something of Cold's smirk in it. “Of course,” she says, “Speaking of, could I bring the questions around to how your new powers reacted to your injuries?”
“What?”
“Ice literally in your veins,” Iris says.
Cold touches his fingers to the blood still seeping out of his nose. It's liquid and nothing like the injuries Iris treated earlier. Cold then peels back one of the bandages and looks surprised when he sees that it's iced over. He prods it and gets bloody slush on his fingers.
“Huh,” Cold says, putting the bandage back in place, “Weird.”
“I take it you didn't know about that then,” Iris comments.
“Not as such,” Cold says, “Good to find out in a safe place though.”
“Ice can trap the blood in quicker than it clots,” Wally says. He looks up when there's silence to see Iris and Cold both looking at him, “What? It makes sense.”
“It does,” Iris agrees, “I just hadn't considered...”
“I was bleeding out earlier,” Cold says, “It only iced over when I made it.”
“Instinctive defence,” Wally corrects, “Your body knows what to do and does it best when unconscious.”
Cold turns to Iris and opens his mouth, but she beats him to it.
“No,” Iris says firmly.
“It wouldn't be for -” Cold starts.
“He's younger than Trickster,” Iris says, “Isn't that what you said?”
“I'm not wanting to take him on heists,” Cold says, “Just for research purposes.”
“He is sitting right here,” Wally interrupts, annoyed that they're talking about him like he isn't even there. He gets enough of that from home, thank you very much.
“Sorry, Wally,” Iris says, though she's still frowning at Cold.
“I'm not going to help the Rogues,” Wally continues, “I'm on Flash's side.”
“I hadn't guessed,” Cold says, with a pointed look at Wally's Flash hoodie.
Wally brings his knees up to defend the lightning-bolt insignia. “You're just jealous you don't have any fans.”
“Play nice, boys,” Iris warns them.
Wally already knows the rest of the day isn't going to go very well. Him and Cold just aren't going to get along, no matter what Iris tries.
“Would you like to say anything else, Leonard?” Iris asks.
“You know the cops aren't going to do anything with this, don't you?” Cold says.
“You've just got to find the right cops,” Iris says sweetly.
“They don't exist,” Cold says with a hrmphf.
“You just have to know where to look,” Iris says.
“On about your lab-rat, I suppose,” Cold says.
“He's not my lab-rat,” Iris says, “And he has a name.”
Wally's almost feeling like he's at a tennis match. His book is open on his knees, but he's not paying it any attention.
“Iris?” Wally says and he hopes it didn't come out quite as squeaky as it sounded to him.
“Barry. You'll see him tomorrow, Wally,” Iris says, “He's the one who offered to show you around the lab.”
“Why don't you like cops?” Wally wants to know.
“Would you like them in my position, kid?” Cold asks, “When all that's keeping them out of lock-up is the fact that they've got a badge.”
“The whole 'cop-mentality' thing?” Wally says, “I don't buy into that. You're born good or evil, if you ask me.”
“Shades of grey,” Cold rebuts, “Or you're simplifying things too much.”
“You would say that,” Wally says, “Theft is theft. Assault is assault. It doesn't get any simpler than that.”
Iris is all but forgotten as Wally and Cold's argument starts getting more and more heated.
“You're not looking at the reasoning,” Cold says, “I break into a building unlawfully, I get called a crook. Flash breaks into a building unlawfully, he gets called a hero.”
“Flash isn't a thief,” Wally snaps.
“He sure as hell isn't working for the law,” Cold says.
“But he is working with it,” Wally says, “Ultimately his intent is good.”
“Because he's a 'hero',” Cold spits out the word, “Get the right label attached and they'll let you get away with murder.”
“The Flash doesn't murder. He saves people,” Wally says, “That's why he's a hero. He didn't just get the name out of nowhere.”
“Boys,” Iris interrupts. Which Wally's grateful for, since Cold looks close to making the argument physical - frost has started to creep over his hands. “I'm heading to the bathroom,” Iris adds, “Try not to kill each other.”
Wally wants to beg her not to leave him alone with Cold, but if the look Iris is giving him is any indication, she wants them to try to get along. Wally pointedly picks up his book and starts reading again.
“Want some ice for your head, kid?” Cold asks.
“What?” Wally asks, then his head decides to throb slightly and remind him that he smashed it pretty hard earlier.
Without waiting for more of an answer than Wally's wince, Cold presses one hand against Wally's forehead. The temperature is shocking, but very quickly soothes the ache. Cold pulls his hand away slowly and leaves behind a sheet of ice. Wally's pretty sure it's going to start dripping soon, but for now it's pleasant.
“Thanks,” Wally says, because his manners are ingrained enough to do so.
“Don't mention it,” Cold says, his response sounds somewhat instinctive too, which is a bit of surprise.
There's silence. Wally finds himself reading the same line over and over, but he doesn't want to start up the argument again. Finally it gets too much for Wally and he blurts out.
“I'm into physics and chemistry more than biology.”
“Hmm?” Cold's frowning now.
“I mean, I wouldn't be much good at figuring out your powers,” Wally elaborates, “That's what you meant earlier, right? You'd do better with someone who actually knows... would it be cryobiology?”
“Bit hard to find someone sympathetic in that field,” Cold says, “Considering how much of a mess Killer Frost's made things.”
Wally winces. Even in Blue Valley he's heard how Killer Frost terrorised or completely slaughtered almost every person in the field of cryogenics. Cold doesn't have as high a body-count, but he's still a villain and the scientists that are left are unlikely to help.
“Flash could -” Wally starts.
“I'm not asking Flash for help,” Cold snarls. Any and all progress Wally's made is suddenly gone.
“He's the best test you've got,” Wally says.
“And any time I want to try something new I'll have to deal with Iron Heights,” Cold says, “No chance.”
They lapse into silence again. Wally manages to focus long enough to get through a couple of paragraphs. Then he gets distracted by Cold practising his ice powers. He's not doing anything fancy, just letting it form and dissipate, but it's still a bit of a novelty to watch.
“How long does she usually take?” Cold asks.
“Iris?” Wally says, glancing over at the direction of the bathroom, “Not this long. I should check up on her.”
Thankful for the excuse to leave, Wally takes his book with him as he heads toward the bathroom. Iris has been gone something close to fifteen minutes. While that may be normal for some people, Iris doesn't dawdle by any stretch of the imagination.
“Iris?” Wally asks, knocking on the bathroom door, “Is everything ok?”
There's no answer. Wally tries the handle and the door opens, unlocked. Wally slips in and finds chaos.
The cabinet of toiletries has been knocked off the wall, its contents scattered over the room. The mat that usually lives beside the shower is scrunched up against the toilet. The window is smashed.
Wally runs over to the window, mind reeling at how he could've missed all this going on. There's no sign of Iris or possible attackers.
“Hell,” Wally mutters. He frowns. His word came out distorted. “Hello?” Wally tries, a bit louder. Still funny-sounding.
Wally sticks his head out of the bathroom and tries again. “Hello?” this time it comes out fine. Weird.
Wally starts searching the bathroom for the cause of this effect. He is just pulling a strange black box out of a pile of toiletries when Cold looks in.
“Shit,” Cold says silently, which Wally can clearly lip-read.
Wally locates the off switch and sound fills the room again. It's strange how much Wally wasn't hearing. The rushing wind through the broken window is louder than Wally would've expected.
“This is your fault,” Wally snaps at Cold, who is looking out of the window.
“How?” Cold snaps back, “I was unconscious when you brought me here. It's not like I could shake their tail.”
“You pissed them off,” Wally says, “And now they've gone after Iris.” He hates the way his voice hitches at the last word.
“She's a tough lady,” Cold says, “She'll be able to take care of herself until I get there.”
Wally follows Cold through to the living room. “Until we get there,” Wally corrects.
Cold stops and frowns at Wally. “Not a chance, kid.”
“You think you can do this on your own?” Wally says, trying to appeal to common sense, “You said they stabbed you last time.”
“I don't work with anyone younger than Trickster,” Cold says.
“She's my aunt,” Wally says, “My best friend. Please.”
“What use are you gonna be?” Cold asks.
“I'm quick,” Wally says, “Small too.” he's not really, not for his age, but against adults he's still got some growing to do. “And I'm smart.”
“These guys are playing for keeps,” Cold warns, “They're going to shoot at you, kid or not.”
“I'm not leaving my aunt,” Wally says hotly.
Cold gives a sharp nod. “Does she have any weapons you can use. Mace, maybe?”
Wally picks up Iris' handbag and searches through. It doesn't take him long to find a taser. It's a short-range one, so he doesn't have to worry about re-loading. Just that he'll have to be in close range with the enemy.
“Keys,” Cold says, at Wally's confusion he adds, “You'll need her keys. Take her phone too - make sure it's on silent - that way if it turns into too much of a fuck up you can get help.”
“We could try and contact the Flash,” Wally suggests.
“No,” Cold says, “It's already a tricky situation. Flash tends to complicate things.”
“Wait,” Wally says, as Cold heads for the door, “You're going out like that?”
All Cold needs are his goggles on and his hood up to be in full 'Captain Cold' mode.
“You got a better idea?” Cold asks.
“Two minutes,” Wally says as he runs into his room.
Despite having only been here for a couple of weeks, Wally's room is a tip. It takes him longer than it should to come across what he's looking for. He's surprised when he finds Cold still waiting.
“Here,” Wally says, shoving a jacket into Cold's hands, “That should cover you until we get close.”
Cold opens the jacket with distaste clearly on his face. “Not a chance in hell.”
“It's not Flash,” Wally says, “It's -”
“Just as bad,” Cold finishes.
“Are you going to argue about this or help me save Iris?” Wally demands.
Cold grumbles, but puts the jacket on. Green Lantern isn't exactly subtle, but it does its job of distracting away from his usual costume.
“Ready to go?” Wally asks, double checking his pockets for key, phone, and taser.
Cold doesn't reply, instead just walking out of the door. Wally makes sure its locked and jogs to catch up with Cold. They don't meet anyone until they get outside. Wally gives a sigh of relief
“So, which way are we going?” Wally wants to know.
“Stick close,” Cold says, “It's not far.”
He's right, it's only a few blocks before Cold yanks Wally sharply into an alley. Wally manages to keep in his yelp at being moved unexpectedly.
“Put these on,” Cold says, pressing his goggles into Wally's hands, “And keep your hood up. It's best if they don't get a good look at you.”
“What about you?” Wally asks, sliding the goggles over his head. He has to adjust to the sudden tunnel-vision.
“I want them to notice me,” Cold says, shrugging the jacket off and drawing himself up to his full height, “Follow me at a distance, ok, kid? Find your aunt and get out of there.”
Those are priorities Wally can get behind. He tugs his hood up and nods to Cold. Cold's own hood is up and he's formed crude goggles out of ice over his eyes. There's something hard in his face that Wally's not actually seen in person before.
“Twenty seconds,” Cold says, patting Wally on the shoulder and walking off.
Wally almost uses his watch to count, then he realises he should really see where Cold's going. Twenty seconds passes relatively slowly then Wally finally starts to follow.
Cold turned right at the end of the alley. Wally peers around the corner and doesn't see anyone. He trots down the next alley, keeping an eye out for anyone else. He's adjusted to the goggles' limited vision surprisingly easily. Possibly a by-product of playing video games - and mom said they were bad for him.
There's another fork and, again, Wally doesn't see anyone either way. He's starting to feel a little paranoid. Something glitters out of the corner of his eye and he sees a splatter of ice on the corner leading left. Left it is.
Wally gets about halfway along the alley when he comes across two men. They're unconscious and mostly coated in ice. At least Wally knows he's going in the right direction. He takes the taser out and approaches the door nearby. It's ajar and also has a frost pattern on it.
There's more ice inside. A handful of bullets are on the floor, completely encased. More bodies. Sometimes with a limb shattered, but all alive. Wally moves on quickly. He's catching Cold up, the sounds of fighting is becoming clearer.
There comes a point when Wally finds another door with Cold's usual frost pattern on it and he decides to take another route. Cold's been staying on the ground floor, if Wally can get higher, he'll be in a better vantage point. Especially with the way this is a warehouse and most of the best rooms are two stories or more.
Wally's beginning to feel confident, when he runs into somebody. He'd gotten used to the idea that Cold had taken out everyone and hadn't appreciated that it didn't count when Wally deviated from the path.
The man has a gun, which he points at Wally. Wally freezes, though manages to keep the taser out of the guy's view.
“What the hell are you doing here, boy?” the man asks, “This isn't a place for playing.”
“I'm lost,” Wally says, inwardly cringing at how typical that sounds.
“Yeah, right,” the man says, unimpressed, he moves toward Wally, “Come on.”
He grabs Wally's arm and Wally shoves the taser against the man's side. There's a bzzzpt and a smell of burning flesh that Wally won't soon be forgetting. The man collapses, but he's not knocked out. Wally manages to kick the gun out of the man's hand then hits him on the head. This time the man passes out.
Wally coughs and feels a bit sick. He pushes it down and checks the taser. Enough charge for three more blasts. Wally considers the gun, but ultimately he has no clue how to use one and the idea leaves him feeling even more sick. He makes do by kicking it into a corner and heading on.
The sound of fighting is loudest by one door. Wally slips through and finds himself on a catwalk. Some of the railings are out of repair, but that's not the reason his heart leaps into his mouth.
Iris is being held by a man. She's unconscious and has her hands bound as well as a gag stuffed into her mouth. The man's only sparing her one arm, his other hand is holding something Wally can't see. Wally starts creeping forward. As he moves further into the room, he can see Cold fighting on the floor below.
Cold's outnumbered and definitely in a much worse state than when Wally last saw him. By the looks of things Cold's got an aura of absolute zero up, which is the only reason he's alive. One of his opponents takes a shot at him, but the bullets don't reach Cold before they freeze over and fall to the ground. Cold's looking tired from what Wally can see. His own shots at his opponents are getting sloppy. Ice hits the walls and crates more often than it hits a person.
“Ready to surrender yet, Snart?” the man holding Iris asks.
“Fuck you,” Cold snaps.
The man holds out the object in his hand and Wally sees what it is quite clearly. A detonator.
Oh hell.
The man is calling something more down at Cold, but Wally's not listening. He picks up a piece of railing and launches himself at the man.
Wally brings down the railing on the man's arm and the detonator tumbles from his grasp. The man lets go of Iris and turns to Wally with a snarl on his face. Wally ducks the first punch, but the second catches him in the stomach and he drops to his knees, wheezing.
The man gives Wally a hard kick and Wally tumbles against a railing, which gives way under his weight. Wally barely manages to grab the edge as both he and the railing fall.
The man walks away, heading toward the door that Wally came through. He pulls another detonator out of his jacket and presses it as he leaves. Wally's just got one leg onto the catwalk when everything goes to hell.
Several crates below explode. It's not quite as sharp a noise as Wally expected, instead its mostly a roaring sound. When Wally pulls himself completely up he glances down and sees that it's not so much an explosion as a really nasty fire.
The men Cold was fighting are now fighting each other for the exit. Wally can't see Cold through the smoke. Wally has his priorities though, and he picks up Iris and stumbles toward the exit.
It's awkward and difficult, but Wally manages to navigate the stairs and get outside. There wasn't any sign of the guy Wally had knocked out and he hopes he made it out alive.
Wally sits Iris up against the alley wall and starts untying her wrists. A click from behind him stops him cold.
“You almost cost me a great deal,” it's the man who had the detonator earlier. Wally slowly turns around and finds himself face to face with the end of a gun barrel, “You're lucky I'm always prepared.”
The gun flicks to one side and Wally slowly stands up and moves. All he can think about is the pipe and taser he left on the catwalk and how they'd be no use against a gun.
“You tell Miss West, when she wakes up, to stay out of our business,” the man continues, “We're not all that fond of reporters.”
“We weren't in your business,” Wally says, ignoring the part of his brain that's telling him to shut up, “We were just helping someone injured.”
“Don't make me laugh,” the man snorts, “Everyone knows who Captain Cold is. Our business doesn't need some nosy reporter butting in. Or else...”
“Or else what?” Wally says and the sensible part of his brain is now screaming at him.
The gun lowers. Wally's just about to breathe a sigh of relief when there's a bang and white-hot pain lances through his right thigh. Wally collapses with a cry. The man says something else, but Wally doesn't take in a word. His leg hurts like nothing else ever has before.
Awareness comes back to Wally in a sudden moment. The men have vanished and there's a worrying amount of blood on his trousers. His leg is throbbing, but there's something to be said for adrenalin keeping the worst of the pain away.
Wally gets the rope off Iris' hands and ties it around his leg in a makeshift tourniquet. He then takes out Iris' phone and dials for an ambulance. Its awkward explaining how to get to them, but he manages.
It comes to Wally that he hasn't seen Cold. He might not be an expert in cryobiology, but he does know that ice in a fire isn't going to go well for the ice. There's the temptation to just leave him - he is a criminal after all - but Wally knows a good person doesn't leave anyone for dead. The Flash certainly wouldn't.
Adrenalin might be keeping the pain down, but Wally still can't put anything close to full weight on his right leg. He ends up doing an awkward shuffle-hop, using bits of furniture and the wall for support. He comes across a hatstand not too far into the building and uses it in place of a crutch.
Thick black smoke is billowing out of the doorway when Wally finally reaches the room in question. He lets his sleeve slide down over his hand and clamps it to his mouth then plunges into the room.
It's hard to see. Cold's goggle aren't helping, but Wally pretty sure that taking them off is a worse idea. Wally counts the floorboards under his feet. As long as he knows how far it is to the door, he should be able to get out.
There's a crackle and Wally heads toward it. He doesn't see the ice in time and slips, jarring his leg painfully. Wally cries out and someone grips his shoulder. Wally looks up to see Cold.
Cold looks like he's sweating, but upon closer inspection, Wally realises he's drenched in water. Frost forms, only to melt and leave Cold even wetter. He also looks close to passing out.
“Idiot,” Cold hisses.
Wally can only manage a weak smile behind his hand. He tries to get to his feet, but his leg isn't cooperating any more. It hurts and Wally's getting tired. He can't give up though and tries again, with even less success.
Icy hands wrap around his thigh at the bullet wound and Cold manages to sum up enough strength to coat Wally's leg in ice from hip to thigh. It numbs the pain and goes some way to splinting Wally's leg. He's still not going to be walking on it any time soon, but it lets him stand up.
Cold's looking even paler than normal, almost grey, and sways when Wally helps him up. Wally stumbles when he tries to take a step and Cold grabs him, only for Cold to stumble too and almost bring them both down. Wally only just gets his hatstand-crutch in the right place in time.
Their walk is shuffling, halting, and slow, but it gets them to the wall. Wally's direction must've been off, though his count was correct. Wally hopes he's chosen the right way and leads Cold sideways. It's a little easier now Cold can put some of his weight on the wall.
Thankfully, they come across the door. The smoke is still in the next room, but it's so much thinner here. Breathing gets easier, which helps fuel their stumble. The edges of Wally's vision keep sparkling black and Cold's caught himself a few times already. They're so close to the exit now though.
Cold starts coughing and spits out several black globs of gunk. Wally doesn't want to think about what the smoke has done to his own lungs. He's already ignoring his gunshot wound.
The sounds of activity reach them as they get close to the alley. Wally doesn't care who it is, he just wants to get out of the building and pass out. Cold doesn't slow down either, so he doesn't care or he hasn't picked up on the noise yet. Wally isn't going to bet either way.
Thankfully, it's an ambulance and a group of paramedics. Iris is awake and the second Wally and Cold emerge into clean air, she's pushing her way over to them. Wally barely has time to untangle himself from Cold and the hatstand before Iris sweeps him up in her arms. It's more than a little embarrassing now he's fifteen, however, he's glad she's ok.
Iris pulls back and turns her attention to Cold, who's on his feet by sheer force of will. Wally just manages to grab the hatstand again before his leg gives out.
“You -” Iris says sharply, “I should - you dragged my nephew into - I can't believe -”
Rare is the occasion when Iris is at a loss for words. Wally winces when she takes a determined step forward and pokes Cold in the chest.
“Thought the rescuer was supposed to get a kiss,” Cold says between coughs.
Wally stares at Cold's audacity. Iris isn't amused and her glare couldn't be sharper.
“I will never forgive you if Wally doesn't recover from this,” Iris says.
The moment she steps back, Cold finally passes out. The paramedics swarm on him and Wally feels a tug at his arm. He looks to see a paramedic giving him a smile.
Finally safe, Wally lets the blackness overtake him and falls unconscious.
--------------------
When Wally wakes up it's dark and there's a beeping noise. Awareness is hard to catch ahold of, but it slowly dawns on Wally that he's in a hospital bed. The beeping is the machine he's hooked up to. Crystal clarity is still elusive, but Wally reasons he's probably drugged up because his leg doesn't hurt.
He sees Iris asleep in the chair next to his bed. She looks uncomfortable, but she also looks exhausted, so Wally doesn't wake her up immediately. Instead he spends some time looking over the rest of the room.
There are other people there, but Wally can't spot Cold. He glances back at Iris to see furious blue eyes glaring at him. She's awake.
“Erm...” Wally tries before he breaks off coughing.
Iris' frown lessens as she gives Wally a cup of water. The liquid is heaven against his abused throat. Iris doesn't let him start again.
“I can't believe what you did, Wally,” Iris says. She's keeping her voice low to avoid disturbing the other people in the ward, but Wally can hear the anger there.
“I -” Wally starts again.
“Don't talk,” Iris interrupts, “From what the paramedics said, you called them.”
“Yes, but -” Wally says.
“Yet when I came to, you were inside the building,” Iris says, “And the paramedics were expecting a bullet wound and I hadn't been shot.”
“Iris -” Wally begins.
“Did you drag Captain Cold out of a burning building after you'd been shot through the leg?” Iris says and it's obvious she wants the answer to be 'no'.
“Well...” Wally rubs the back of his head sheepishly, “He dragged me as much as I dragged him.”
“Wally,” Iris sighs, “There's a difference between bravery and idiocy. It's a fine line, but there is a difference.”
Wally's throat catches and he starts coughing again. He downs another cup of water. There's a whole jug on the table by his bed, it looks like someone predicted how he'd feel after inhaling all that smoke, even through his sleeve.
“I called your parents,” Iris says, “They can't make it to the Gem Cities at the moment, but they're considering cutting your visit with me short.”
“No!” the machine by Wally's bed starts beeping faster, “Please let me stay. You still haven't let me see the forensics lab yet.”
“And at this rate, you'll never see it,” Iris warns, “You can plead your case to your parents when you call them to check up. You were lucky, by the way, the doctors said half an inch in any other direction and you may have lost the use of your leg entirely or even died.”
Wally gulps. He hadn't really thought about that at the time. If he had he might not have flung himself around quite so carelessly.
“But I'll still be able to walk, right?” Wally confirms.
“They think so,” Iris says, “But you're on crutches for a few weeks after you get out of here.”
Wally pulls a face, but it could be a hell of a lot worse. He's getting tired again. Some of the stress has left Iris and Wally supposes it's because he's woken up and isn't possibly comatose.
“Where's Cold?” Wally asks, yawning.
“He's in intensive care until they can move him to Iron Heights,” Iris replies, “Get some rest, you need it.”
Wally can't deny the tug of sleep and soon he slips under.
--------------------
It takes another day for Wally to be cleared and let out with a new pair of crutches. He has to make a couple of circuits of the room completely before Iris is happy enough to sign him out. It sucks being fifteen sometimes.
“Ready to go then?” Iris asks.
“Yup,” Wally says, gripping his crutches tightly.
The journey from hospital bed to outside the hospital is surprisingly hard work. Wally's arms aren't used to being worked this much. He's glad Iris doesn't make them walk back to her apartment as punishment, instead hailing a taxi from the bay.
Wally's also prepared to worship the inventor of the elevator, because there's no way he's going to get up to Iris' floor otherwise.
He's supposed to stay off his feet for the next week, but it's boring. Iris is still working and Wally can't tag along after her. As interesting as his books are, Wally can't focus on them for days on end. Any internet searches for cryobiology are coming up blank. The only thing that's keeping Wally from climbing the walls is the chance to take apart and examine the black sound-blocking box.
Then finally, finally, the week is up and Wally's allowed to go outside again. He's got a crime lab to visit and a sighting of the Flash to catch. Maybe he'll even manage to avoid trouble for the rest of his vacation.