Prompt Post - Part Six [CLOSED TO NEW PROMPTS]
THIS PART IS NOW CLOSED. YOU CAN CONTINUE POSTING FILLS, BUT PLEASE PROMPT ALL NEW THINGS HERE.
I am so sorry for the delay, guys. Life has been hectic lately (exams, haha) and I lost track.
Part one here!
Part two here!
Part three here!
Part four here!
Part five here!
Feel free to reprompt posts from parts one, two, three or four in part five once. If ( Read more... )
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Wally lurched sideways when the mirror-verse finally spat him out. He'd take running over mirror-travel any day. Still, it was pretty cool to see how the Rogues got around.
They'd said goodbye to Captain Boomerang somewhere in Gotham. Wally couldn't say exactly how long ago that had been. The mirror-verse really messed with your perceptions of everything, time included.
Mirror Master and Trickster were already carrying Captain Cold over to a table that had various cartons of chinese takeaway stacked on it. Wally made himself useful by speed cleaning the food off and into his stomach. Finally, some real - if cold and congealed - food.
"Anyone else need medical attention?" Mirror Master asked as he hoisted Cold onto the table.
Everyone answered with a negative. Weather Wizard pulled a battered first aid kit from under the sink. Heat Wave helped Mirror Master pull off Cold's coat and shirt so they could see the damage.
There was blood. Quite a bit of it.
"What hit him?" Mirror Master asked.
"One of the machines," Trickster answered, "Though it was more a case of him hitting it."
"Gonna need stitches," Mirror Master said, grimacing.
Trickster came to stand by Kid Flash while Mirror Master set about getting a clean needle and thread, and Heat Wave cleaned up the wound as best he could.
"No anaesthetic," Weather Wizard said, rooting through the kit, "Got anything for him to bite on?"
"Want to play some cards?" Trickster suddenly asked Wally.
"Uh... sure," Wally agreed.
Trickster produced a pack of cards from a hidden pocket and started shuffling them. The loud snap of the deck did nothing to mask the muffled yell of pain. Wally glanced back over at the table. Weather Wizard and Heat Wave were holding Cold down while Mirror Master drew the needle through Cold's skin. Cold had a wad of cloth in his mouth to keep him quiet. Wally looked away quickly and focussed on the cards.
"What's your game?" Trickster asked, not sounding in the least like his team mate was getting stitches in the same room, "Poker? Black-jack? Knuckles? Sevens? Snap? Actually, I'm not playing snap with a speedster. Pairs?"
"That's a kid's game," Wally protested.
"Kid Flash," Trickster said with a grin, "And kid's games are the best. Why else would I run around with a slinky?"
"For catching people," Wally said, "You got me with it last month."
"But that could've been any old trap," Trickster said, "It was a slinky because it was fun. Way better than a net-boomerang."
He began dealing the cards. Wally sped up his perception to watch, but Trickster didn't try any funny business. They were dealt seven cards each, then Trickster put the deck between them and flipped the top card.
"You know how to play rummy, right?"
"Sure."
The game progressed quickly. Wally was staring a little too hard at the cards to block out what was happening on the other side of the room. As a result he missed a couple of useful cards and lost spectacularly. Trickster picked up the deck and started shuffling again.
"Why did you come rescue me?" Wally finally asked, having held onto the question since Trickster had first appeared in the warehouse.
"You think we'd throw anyone to the Joker?" Trickster asked.
"...No," Wally admitted, "But that was Gotham. And I wasn't wearing a costume. And -"
"Slow down," Trickster said, "It wasn't a big deal."
"But they -" Wally gestured toward the other side of the room, "- got hurt, and Batman didn't show up quick enough, and he's a hero and they're meant to rescue people. You guys are villains."
"Rogues," Mirror Master interrupted.
"You're still the bad guys," Wally said.
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"Better than Gotham's lot," Heat Wave said, taking another chair.
"No one's as crazy as them," Wally agreed. Then something occurred to him, "Hey! Am I a hostage?"
Wally had expected either a short denial (which would totally be fake) or evil grins followed by all of them jumping him. He certainly hadn't expected laughter. Wally folded his arms and tried to glare at them like Batman would. It didn't work, the Rogues just laughed harder.
"Shit, that hurts," Cold gasped, clutching his side and grimacing.
"You pull those stitches and I'll dump you in the hospital, Len," Mirror Master threatened.
Cold just gave a rude gesture and accepted one of the bottles Weather Wizard was handing around to the adults with a quiet "cheers, Mark". Wally knew the real names of all the Rogues, but actually hearing them being used was weird.
"Everyone in?" Trickster asked, riffling the deck.
"You didn't answer my question," Wally said.
"You're not a hostage," Heat Wave answered, "Sam'll drop you off at the police station in a bit."
"You know, my dad isn't a cop," Wally said.
"No, but Flash practically is," Heat Wave said.
Wally had to stop himself from blurting out that Uncle Barry really was a cop. Barry would never forgive him. Batman would never forgive him. Oh god, he ran out on Batman. He was so dead next time he went to Gotham.
"So what happened in that place?" Mirror Master asked, "One minute I'm watching the Bat watch you lot, the next it all goes dark. Then the Kid's half-way across the bay and the whole place goes up."
"Across the bay," Cold repeated, looking darkly at Wally.
"It was Weather Wizard's idea," Wally protested.
"Fished him out of the water," Mirror Master continued. He shifted his gaze to Weather Wizard, "You ok, Mark? You've barely said two words since we got back."
"Fine," Weather Wizard said shortly.
Mirror Master frowned, but turned back to Cold, "So what happened next?"
"Everything must've blown up," Cold shrugged, "I can't remember anything beyond that until you stuck me."
"Batman saved me," Trickster said, sounding like he didn't quite believe it, "Grabbed me out of the air and wrapped his cape around me."
"Get a souvenir?" Cold asked.
Trickster pulled a batarang out of another hidden pocket. Wally gaped, at both the fact that Trickster had managed to get it as well as that he'd dared to try in the first place. Plus there was the whole 'his enemy having the same hobby' thing.
"Think he'll miss it?" Trickster asked, tossing it from one hand to another.
"Dude, are you kidding?" Wally said, "It's Batman! Rob says he counts the bats in the Batcave before he goes on patrol. And when he gets back too."
"So the Batcave actually exists?" Trickster asked.
"Yeah - wait, you're trying to find out stuff you shouldn't know about Batman from me," Wally said, "I'm not going to give you any clues about his secret identity or - hey! Stop it!" The Rogues were laughing again.
"Like we care about that," Cold said, shifting with a grimace, "The last thing we need is the Bat coming down hard on us. I'd prefer not to end up in Arkham, thanks."
"Is that why you stay in Central?" Wally asked, "Iron Heights isn't exactly the nicest place around from what Flash says, but -"
"But it's still a damn sight nicer than Arkham," Cold finished for him, "There's other things to consider too. Aren't many others around Central either; you set up in, say, Metropolis and you're stepping on a lot of toes."
"It's not the payoffs, it's the fall," Mirror Master said, raising his drink.
"Amen to that," Heat Wave said, clinking his bottle with Mirror Master's.
"Plus Flash is way more fun than Batman or Superman," Trickster added.
Wally was just beginning to wonder when exactly the Rogues stopped feeling like villains, when Weather Wizard shot to his feet and lurched over to the sink. The sound of vomiting was distinctive and Mirror Master got up to check on him.
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"Hurts," Weather Wizard spat into the sink. He was clutching at his side.
"Let's see," Mirror Master prodded Weather Wizard's ribs and caused a hiss of pain, "Shit, those feel broken."
Weather Wizard heaved into the sink again and Mirror Master started swearing.
"Why the fuck didn't you say anything?" Mirror Master snapped, "Mick, get over here, we need to get him to a hospital."
"If it's just broken ribs..." Heat Wave started, but he was getting up and making his way over as he was talking.
"And internal bleeding," Mirror Master said, "Hurry up. James, you got an ID that'll work?"
Trickster nodded and ran further into the hideout. Heat Wave was mostly carrying Weather Wizard toward the large mirror while Mirror Master fiddled with his pistol.
"Can I help?" Wally asked.
"We're going to Central General," Mirror Master said, "When James gets back with the ID and medical info, run them over to us. James'll get you out."
He vanished into the mirror with Heat Wave and Weather Wizard. Wally realised something.
"They're going in costume," he said, "They'll get caught."
"Which I'm sure you've got no problem with," Cold said, "Sam's got short lived illusions in that ray of his. It'll last long enough to get them in and out."
"He can do that?" Wally asked, distracted.
"Doesn't pay to advertise to capes," Cold said, "But yeah, he can. Not like it's much use against you or Flash, when you can search everyone in a mile radius in under a minute, but it gets him from place to place without causing a panic 'til he wants one."
Trickster reappeared, holding a sheaf of papers and looking around for the others.
"Mirror Master said I should take them," Wally said, holding out his hand for the documents, "And you can show me the way out..."
Trickster looked at Cold, who smirked, but nodded.
"Right," Trickster said, pulling Wally toward the mirror, "This way."
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When Mark came to his first thought was that Piper must have been by, since any other Rogue would've, at best, chucked him on the battered sofa and tugged a blanket over him. Piper, on the other hand, would actually bother a couple of others to get the injured Rogue to a proper bed.
Upon opening his eyes, Mark realised he was in a hospital. That slightly floaty feeling was probably from the drugs dripping into his arm. Blank walls and crisp sheets and surprisingly no handcuffs. Trickster had a habit of carrying fake IDs, ones that would more than pass a security check, so he was probably under an alias. It would be good to find out just exactly what his name was meant to be before a doctor came in.
Mark levered himself up and only then noticed a red-haired boy sat in the chair next to the bed. Piper, was the first thought again, but the hair was short and the eyes watching Mark were green. Kid Flash.
"You're awake!"
"What happened?" Mark asked.
"You collapsed," Kid Flash said, "Er... you should've mentioned you'd got hit by that car."
It was said in a very obvious way. Must be the cover story then. Mark scooted forward tried to reach the clipboard at the bottom of the bed, but his side twinged and made him gasp. Kid Flash got the clipboard for him, though he would only hand it over once Mark was leaning back.
"Mark North," Mark read off. Trickster always said the best lies were the ones based in truth, and Mark was a common enough name to get away with it.
"You do remember who you are, Uncle Mark?" Kid Flash asked nervously. His acting skills were atrocious.
"Yes..."
"Ben," Kid Flash prompted, "You remember me, right?"
"Yes," Mark replied, "Where's your father?"
"He's with mom," Kid Flash said, "They're on a date. Dad says next time you throw yourself in traffic at least have the decency to do it on a night where you're not meant to be minding me."
Which was probably code for: you've got to put up with the speedster brat because you didn't say anything about being hurt. The chart mentioned a couple of broken ribs and a small amount of internal bleeding. Chances are they would've dumped him in the hospital anyway.
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Mark was pretty sure he'd had nightmares along these lines. Trapped with a speedster. Hell.
"Tired," Mark replied, closing his eyes and hoping that might save him.
"Really? You've been out all night," Kid Flash said, not taking the hint, "I know it's not the same as sleeping, but the doctors said you should be back to normal, if a bit sore."
"Why are you bothering me?" Mark decided to be direct, heaven knows a speedster is anything but subtle.
"Because I'm bored," Kid Flash groaned, "There's nothing to do. Nothing's on TV and I've already read the magazines twice."
"Then leave," Mark said.
"I can't," Kid Flash said, "James told me not to, and Mi-Sam and H-Mick were backing him up." He paused for a moment, "It's really weird you guys actually having names and using them. It's like Batman having a name - not that I know Batman's name - or Rob. I can't imagine them calling each other something other than Batman and Robin."
"What happened to being discrete?" Mark muttered.
Kid Flash must've heard, because he hung his head and twisted his fingers together. Sometimes when he was racing around making bad jokes it was easy to forget that he was just a kid.
"How old are you again, Ben?" Mark asked.
Kid Flash looked over at the door in panic, before he remembered that his alias was called Ben. "I'm fourteen."
Fourteen. "Can't believe you were twelve when I met you," Mark said. The Flash had let a twelve-year-old fight crime? Mark had just assumed the kid was short for his age.
"I'm almost fifteen," Kid Flash said, a little on the defensive side.
There was a blessed space of silence, broken only by Kid Flash's fingers drumming a tune into the arm of his chair. Mark's eyes slid closed again, maybe he could just drop -
"So when d'you think James is gonna show up?"
- off.
Apparently not.
"Why haven't you gone home yet?" Mark asked, there had to be a way to get rid of the brat, "Won't your parents be worried?"
"They think I'm visiting Rob," Kid Flash shrugged, "Fl-my mentor isn't around and I usually spend the weekend with him, and M-Sam said it would be a bad idea to go to Goth- go back there so soon."
"Kid," Mark sighed, "You really need to work on your subterfuge."
"That's for villains," Kid Flash said, screwing up his nose.
"Or undercover operatives," Mark said, "...I'm giving you advice. I didn't think I'd lose my mind this quickly."
"It's probably the drugs," Kid Flash offered, the point going way over his head.
"What will it take to keep you quiet?" Mark asked, half to himself.
"Hey!" Kid Flash said, "James said you didn't mind conversation."
"James is going to be strangled once I can stand," Mark muttered, then spoke louder, "Intelligent conversation."
"Oh," Kid Flash said, "Well, we just started a unit on precipitation reactions in Chem and -"
"Intelligent," Mark interrupted, "Not technical."
Kid Flash blinked, completely lost. Mark silently cursed the fact that he'd needed hospital treatment. Then the other Rogues for sticking Kid Flash on watch, the Joker, Kid Flash, and the other Rogues again - purely on principle.
"Why are you here?" Mark wasn't sure how many times he'd asked any more.
"I wanted to make sure you were going to be ok," Kid Flash said quietly.
Mark raised an eyebrow and the kid started wringing his hands at a speed that Mark wasn't sure he'd managed on his feet.
"You're the bad guys," Kid Flash stated, sounding like he was trying to rationalise things, "We fight and you try to steal or take over the city or... something. But you rescued me. And you got hurt for it. So did C-Len, and James looked kinda shaken, and..." Kid Flash buried his face in his hands, "And you're not supposed to die. Not because of me. I'm a hero and... and I'm a terrible one."
"Kid..."
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Please don't start crying, Mark silently begged.
"I didn't even get the bomb all that far out. It didn't hit any of Gotham, but it hit me. I don't know how far I got blasted, then Sam was helping me cough up water and I'm back at the factory, where everything's exploding, and Sam wouldn't let me run in to help, and I didn't even try very hard. I'm a pathetic hero."
Kid Flash brought his feet up and hugged his knees, keeping his face out of Mark's sight. Mark sighed.
"You're a sidekick," Mark said bluntly, "You're meant to screw up. You think your mentor started off knowing how to do everything? Just be glad there's usually someone keeping you from making too many mistakes."
"But people could've died," Kid Flash said, "Because of me."
"Get over it," Mark said sharply.
That finally got the speedster to shut up, if only for a moment. Mark ploughed on before he was subjected to any more angst.
"Batman disarmed two bombs, and they still exploded," Mark said, "Do you think he's in his cave beating himself up about it? No. Do you think Robin escapes every fight without injury? No. Things happen, get over it."
Kid Flash finally looked at Mark. Thankfully his face was dry, though there was a tentative smile.
"Hey there, Uncle Mark!" James called loudly as he barged into the room, "Feeling better?"
Kid Flash jumped and Mark grimaced. From one nightmare to another.
"Alright, Ben, you can go home now," James said, making shooing gestures.
Kid Flash stood up. Mark felt a split-second of pressure around his shoulders, then the speedster vanished. James gave a very particular grin at Mark's bafflement.
"Did he just -"
"Yup. I think I'll run through the security footage to get a picture."
Hell, Mark decided, was teenage company.
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