Running Dry

[flashfact]

My name's Wally West. I'm the fastest man alive. And I'm pooped.

It was the first time his feet had touched the floor in his apartment in days. One of the perks - or curses - of being tapped into the Speed Force was the inhuman levels of endurance. He simply didn't need to rest as often as others did. And when he had an incentive to not slow down

Comments

[lanternslight]

"Wally, it's Hal. I heard about Garth. I know you guys were close. I'm sorry. Look, if you need a chance to get out, get a beer, let me know." *click*

[flashfact]

Wally reached out for the phone, knocking a lamp and a stack of books that he'd been saving for a lazy sunday. Planting the receiver next to his ear, his response came muffled through the sofa cushion.

"I'll be at Warriors at eight."

Of course, being the Flash, eight usually meant closer to eight thirty, but he was ominously on time. Huddled over his drink at the bar, he listened to the collective hum of conversation and waited for his friend.

[lanternslight]

Hal almost doesn't see him there -- he wasn't expecting him to actually be on time. He slides up to the bar by Wally's side. "Beer, and a replacement for whatever my friend is drinking," he says.

He turns to Wally. "Good to see you."

[flashfact]

Wally took the new bottle and tipped it to Hal in thanks.

"Yeah, you too," he replied, taking every willful fibre in his body not to chug his drink at superspeed, "Hope I didn't drag you away from anything, Hal. I hear things are pretty busy on the Corps front."

[middle_amazon]

Later, there's a knock at his door.

[flashfact]

With another groan, he zipped over and flung open the door. If this was Jehovah's Witnesses...

"... Donna."

Suddenly he wished he'd thought to reach for the deodorant first. Never mind, she'd had far worse smelling hugs from him in the past.

[middle_amazon]

There was a time where almost all of her memories and sense of self were anchored in Wally's memories. There's - rarely - still some bleed-over.

Wordlessly, she wraps him in a hug and, if he needs to fall from pain and exhaustion, he will be caught.

[flashfact]

His posture visibly sank as his weight shifted into the safe grip of his friend. Days had been spent standing straight and standing firm, pretending he was stronger than that for those who needed it, but here-- here he could let the hero facade slip.

Friends and family had died before, Donna herself included. But there were no words, not for a childhood friend, not for family like Garth.

Essentially hanging around her shoulders, he muttered, "Come in."