Summary: What if Bart never became Impulse again? After the Apokolips war (by about ten years), the world needs a new Flash and the JLA, constructed of the men and women that once made up Young Justice, has one chance to get their man - who just happens to be Bart Allen. Unfortunately, Bart has his own, average, mundane lifestyle...
The warehouse loomed up, stretching out and up into the sky, which was ironically clear blue as the sun rose along the eastern horizon, to the building's left. There was a flicker at a window on the second story, the curtains pushed aside just for one moment before falling back into place, the grey stained cloth swaying slightly. It was more than enough for the keen eyes of the being - man or creature - watching from the shadow of a small, condemned office building across the street. Lifting a hand to the side of its jaw, a soft beeping sound signified the opening of the comm line. "He's still in there," a deep, husky voice spoke quietly and seriously, eyes glued to the window, watching the silhouette of a nervously pacing man walk back and forth, the lamp behind him clearly showing his form. A small smile twitched at the being's lips, a wryly amused movement. "I think he's beginning to get antsy."
An unintelligible burst of static could be heard faintly coming from the device taped at the hinge of his jaw, which he could apparently decipher. "Tell Empress it's time for her to get inside," he ordered softly.
Police officers to his right, their faces anxious and moody as they watched the same warehouse, jumped slightly as a sudden, bright cloud of cerulean smoke billowed up, tapering out just as quickly as it appeared amid the ranks. The shadow figure laughed to himself, a silent sound that none heard.
The silhouette up in the window started and there was a sudden gunshot, clear and ringing loudly and frighteningly.
"Shit," a new voice, soft and melodious, hissed near his shoulder. He nodded, masking his surprise. Strange how after eleven years of knowing her that she could still sneak up on him. "Things have just escalated."
"You'd better go in to check on her before Lobo starts tearing the warehouse down," he said in quiet reply, waiting for her affirmative noise.
A streak of tan mist darted across the street, melting through a crack in the plaster wall near ground level. High-strung minutes passed and the tall, leanly muscular figure of Lobo began to pace dangerously; even from the distance between the two, the shadow being could see the tensed, uncharacteristically worried expression on the Czarnian's face, yellow eyes narrowed. Another minute passed, followed by another. Yelling could be heard from the window and there were signs that the situation had leapt again, becoming even more volatile.
Without warning, the comm link buzzed loudly.
Instantly, the figure in the shadows thumbed his own comm device. "All JLA members enter the building, NOW!"
He didn't wait to see how the others were going to enter the building; all he knew was what Empress had relayed to him.
"The terrorist has the child pinned against him and he is threatening to shoot the boy multiple times," he said hurriedly into the comm, kicking the door in. "Empress is trying to talk to him, but she says it looks like his grip on the boy is around his neck and it is suffocating him." He scaled the staircase, knocking over ancient cardboard boxes and wheeling around the corner, finding himself in the room where he needed most to be.
A window, not the one facing the street where police officers were, exploded inward as the two dramatically super-powered members appeared, both seething. There were resounding screams from an elderly woman in one of the corners, her speech garbled and desperate. From what he could distinguish, she was begging them to save her grandson.
The grandson who was motionless, clutched tightly by the frenzied man. The grandson who was bleeding intensively from a bullet wound in his leg that appeared to be a day old. The grandson who might already be dead.
Empress was trying to calm the man, but was unsuccessful. Her left arm hung limply by her side, a dark patch forming along her sleeve from the messy, bloody wound in her shoulder. "We need you to calm down, please," she tried, wincing painfully. Glancing over at their unanimous leader, the helpless look on her face telling him exactly what he didn't want to accept: she had lost her telekinetic control.
The man looked down at the boy - he couldn't have been more than six, at the most - and dropped the child to the ground, lifting his gun and firing at Empress, grazing her thigh. With a cry of pain, she bent over, fingers brushing over the superficial gash before she looked back up. The man had the gun pointing straight at her forehead.
"You tyrannical bastards," the man snarled, voice slurred and delirious sounding, "you do everything for the nation: where's the free speech?" He waved his other arm wildly, taking unsteady steps toward Empress, eyes gleaming maliciously. "Where's the democracy? Can't even let the Am-amer-american people do things on their own, can you?" He grinned cruelly.
Wonderwoman landed softly next to the boy, checking his pulse as Kon-El tried to soothe the hysterical grandmother.
"I'm gonna kill you, bitch," the man all but purred, three feet away from her.
In the same instant, Lobo came through the entrance, swearing bloody murder at the man, Secret morphed her hands into clamps, latching onto his arms, and the cowled man threw a flare bomb at the floor, igniting the room with brilliant light. A final bullet was launched erratically and it catapulted itself harmlessly into the wall, tiny cracks spreading out like a thin spiderweb out from the hole. As the light faded, he could see Secret's vacant face, her dangerously flickering eyes revealing more than anyone needed to know. The man began screaming horribly, his eyes focused on something no one else could see, his limbs twitching futilely and spittle trickling down between his lips, trailing down his stubble-covered jaw.
"You okay, 'Nita?" Lobo was saying, checking the wound before she could answer. She flinched against her will and braved a false smile, mask obscuring the motion.
"He isn't breathing!" Wonderwoman suddenly cried, the blonde woman's face contorted in a shocked expression.
"Kon, get the boy to the hospital," the shadow man finally said, "Wondergirl, you evacuate the other hostages." He looked over at Secret, who was holding the unconscious man in her arms, face cruelly emotionless. "Secret, take the man to the authorities outside. Lobo--" He paused, then shook his head. "Help Empress get back to HQ; Healer will help her."
"And you?" Empress gritted out.
Tim Drake, the Batman, smiled grimly. "I'm going to make this man's life a living hell."
