Dramatic Entrances
Drabble about the end of the world
What usually happens when the end of the world comes about is a lot of build-up, a lot of drama, and some really inconvenient romance.
Well, the bad guys had begun to learn from their mistakes, and that meant there was no warning, this time. To be honest, Hartley Rathaway was kind of relieved by this. There would be no waiting, no sleepless nights with only the nightmares to keep him company, which was quite a relief.
This wasn't to say he would give up, of course, and he wasn't fooling himself about the reason why. He had nothing left to live for, after all. There was no news on his little sister, and he never forgave the Flash for letting Hartley and James stay on the run for so long, and let James...
No, the only reason Hartley fought back was because James had given his life so Hartley would have a second chance. If he let that go to waste, he would never forgive himself.
Which was the reason he was currently back-to-back with Captain Cold, both protecting Weather Wizard and Heatwave, who had no weapons. Mirror Master was in every reflection, in every puddle, dragging down the demons with him, while Axel (Hartley refused to acknowledge him as Trickster) bombed every creature coming their way, and Digger guarded his son, snarling at anything in their way.
There was something about the Rogues, everyone knew. Something no other villain group, or even most hero groups, could ever replicate. They didn't even think about betrayals, about the War or anything like that. They didn't think about hesitating to protect each other, no matter what the past or common sense said.
Because, the minute Piper was cornered by the alien creatures, he had suddenly felt himself pulled up onto a rooftop by the scruff of his hood, only to see Len Snart giving him a quick once-over, grabbing his hand, and barking orders at the other Rogues that the safe house was on the south side of Keystone, and that they would protect everyone, dammit!
Once a Rogue, always a Rogue.
They had been caught, though, at the entrance of the Flash Museum. Huddled around each other, shielding the injured and weaponless, Piper lifted his flute to his lips and prepared to play, even though the weapon was distorted and wouldn't make the right notes-
The demon-alien hybrids charged, and-
The world was suddenly engulfed in emerald flames, but they didn't hurt.
There was laughter, like a coyote, loud and cheerful and full of so much mischief and so achingly familiar that Piper couldn't breathe anymore.
And then Cold chuckled under his breath. "Knew he could never leave us for long. He always comes back for you."
And from the brilliant fire, the Trickster grinned, carrying Neron's staff, blue eyes dancing with mischief.
"Miss me?"
What usually happens when the end of the world comes about is a lot of build-up, a lot of drama, and some really inconvenient romance.
Well, the bad guys had begun to learn from their mistakes, and that meant there was no warning, this time. To be honest, Hartley Rathaway was kind of relieved by this. There would be no waiting, no sleepless nights with only the nightmares to keep him company, which was quite a relief.
This wasn't to say he would give up, of course, and he wasn't fooling himself about the reason why. He had nothing left to live for, after all. There was no news on his little sister, and he never forgave the Flash for letting Hartley and James stay on the run for so long, and let James...
No, the only reason Hartley fought back was because James had given his life so Hartley would have a second chance. If he let that go to waste, he would never forgive himself.
Which was the reason he was currently back-to-back with Captain Cold, both protecting Weather Wizard and Heatwave, who had no weapons. Mirror Master was in every reflection, in every puddle, dragging down the demons with him, while Axel (Hartley refused to acknowledge him as Trickster) bombed every creature coming their way, and Digger guarded his son, snarling at anything in their way.
There was something about the Rogues, everyone knew. Something no other villain group, or even most hero groups, could ever replicate. They didn't even think about betrayals, about the War or anything like that. They didn't think about hesitating to protect each other, no matter what the past or common sense said.
Because, the minute Piper was cornered by the alien creatures, he had suddenly felt himself pulled up onto a rooftop by the scruff of his hood, only to see Len Snart giving him a quick once-over, grabbing his hand, and barking orders at the other Rogues that the safe house was on the south side of Keystone, and that they would protect everyone, dammit!
Once a Rogue, always a Rogue.
They had been caught, though, at the entrance of the Flash Museum. Huddled around each other, shielding the injured and weaponless, Piper lifted his flute to his lips and prepared to play, even though the weapon was distorted and wouldn't make the right notes-
The demon-alien hybrids charged, and-
The world was suddenly engulfed in emerald flames, but they didn't hurt.
There was laughter, like a coyote, loud and cheerful and full of so much mischief and so achingly familiar that Piper couldn't breathe anymore.
And then Cold chuckled under his breath. "Knew he could never leave us for long. He always comes back for you."
And from the brilliant fire, the Trickster grinned, carrying Neron's staff, blue eyes dancing with mischief.
"Miss me?"