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#2
DEC 12 |
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“Happy Ever After?”
Life was good for Wally Allen – what reason did he have to complain?
Every day held a new adventure, and though the six a.m. alarm grated his nerves he was glad to be awake. He’d climb out of bed, shower or cook breakfast, depending on whose turn it was, then pull on a shirt and trousers for more strangeness at work.
Somewhere in the commute from Keystone to Central City he stopped being a mild-mannered husband and transformed into Dr. Wallace Allen, assistant physicist and cosmic cowboy. In the depths of S.T.A.R. Labs he was a master of the universe, complete with a Bugs Bunny tie to drive home his benevolence.
He sashayed through security, flew through the usual checks and smiled at the office girl, Julie, as she waited with his coffee. “You’re the best,” Wally moaned, taking that first, delicious sip – whether he was talking to Julie or his drink was anybody’s guess.
Finally he came upon the laboratory, a large, sterile room with computers and engines lining the walls. At the heart of it was a silver ring, the inside of which was treaded as though prepared for an oversized rat.
Though there were no rats around there was a man in red, who smiled at Wally as he marched in. The Flash zoomed to his side and patted the doctor on the shoulder. “Good to see you again, Dr. Allen,” the Scarlet Speedster smiled knowingly.
It seemed funny that Wally couldn’t acknowledge his adopted father, but he’d learned to play along, if not for the sake of their family’s safety then at least in the name of their research. After all, without the Flash and the velocity he could sustain much of their work would have been impossible.
“Ready for another big day?” he asked the hero, walking him over to the machine.
Of course the man was ready – he was the Flash, a superhero! Like a boy scout he was prepared for anything, and he’d been so very generous with his time. If that weren’t enough, the Flash had asked that the rewards of his contribution be sent in his name to local shelters and other charities. It had Wally wonder: was Superman this perfect or just his old man?
“You know the drill,” Wally said, while sticking radio devices to key points of the Flash’s anatomy. “We use these to monitor your heart, respiratory system, brain activity, et cetera, et cetera, you’ll let us know if anything goes wrong.”
“Thank you, Dr. Allen,” the hero smiled. Every time Wally caught his father’s eye he almost fell – the pride that shone was the world to him and, though nobody but they knew it, he was just as thrilled to be working beside his old man.
“Let’s get this show on the road,” he beamed.
After getting the thumbs up from project head Dr. Tina McGee the Flash broke into a light sprint, which from an outsiders perspective made it appear he was running on sixty legs, not two. The human eye could barely keep up and was pushed even further when the speedster took it up another notch. Now his arms and legs were merely a red blur and the machine roared to life as it devoured kinetic energy.
Wally pulled down his goggles and flew into his office chair, rolling across the floor and to his terminal. “Everyone! Battle stations!” he cried. This was the good part. More exciting than the world’s fastest man letting rip before their eyes were the numbers filling his screen – radical numbers that made sense of infinite universes they could barely grasp.
They called it ‘hypertime’– variations of what was, what wasn’t and what would or could not be clustered together in an area outside of space-time. It was the kind of stuff that scientists dreamed of, that revealed more to them than the mere discovery of the Higgs-Boson particle ever could. Were it not for the Flash and his unique abilities they might never have been able to tap into it.
“Crank it up, Flash! You’re doing great!”
Suddenly the room trembled. Everyone feared the worst, assuming a malfunction, but none of the failsafes kicked in. All hands pitched in to initiate a manual shutdown.
The machines hummed as they powered down. Nobody was hurt and none of the equipment was damaged. Once the room had calmed it was filled with confusion. What just happened?
Wally ran to the treadmill. The other scientists were worried about the experiment, but to him his father took priority. He knew that the Flash was more vulnerable than he let on, and the thought of losing the man who’d raised him was unbearable.
“You okay?” he asked the hero.
He watched as the Flash eyed the room, trying to make sense of things. A second tremor struck, and before Wally could ask again a gust of wind blew him toward the door. Whatever was going on, it was taking place outside the lab.
Dashing up the stairs three at a time, Wally joined the race to the top story windows. Word had spread quickly – Captain Cold and Golden Glider were holed up in a jewelry store less than a block away. First ones to get a good spot would be able to see all of the action, and if they didn’t blink they might also get the chance to see the Flash save the day.
He shoved through the crowd and pressed up against the glass. His adopted father might have been a superhero, but it was rare that Wally ever got to see him doing what he did best – fighting crime. Staring down he waited for the inevitable clash, when the red blur shattered the wall of ice that kept the police barricaded.
Between heartbeats the frozen pillar splintered, releasing a gust of frost to the street. Though not even chilled winds could catch Central City’s favorite son as he pulled the police from the line of fire faster than any could see, leaving a seething Captain Cold to his escape.
Every voice on the floor cheered the hero on. “Go get ‘em, Flash!” There must have been a hundred doctors, assistants, interns and secretaries behind Wally trying to snatch a glimpse. Most only knew the hero’s exploits from the headlines – to actually see him in action was something special.
Naturally the Flash did not disappoint, as if there was ever any doubt. Even at what Wally knew to be a low sprint he kept pace with the newly forming path of ice along which the villainous pair raced. Dodging cold beams looked easy, especially given that the scarlet speedster was grinning all the while.
Wally grinned with him. Was that a part of his dad’s plan? Lord knew if he was a villain he’d be pissed at that smile. It was so strong, so assured, like nothing could stop him. Any attempt to put one past the fastest man alive was futile, like children swimming with sharks.
From where he stood he could barely see the action. If he stared close enough he could make out Golden Glider screaming something, probably the usual banter that he’d hear about at the dinner table. “This is the last time you’ll give us the runaround, Flash!” or something just as trite. No matter how often Wally heard the story he couldn’t quite believe it. Did people really talk like that, or was it the insanity that went with wearing a costume?
A gasp hushed the onlookers when ice formed around the hero’s legs, freezing him to the ground. The icicles climbed and then buried the hero to his neck. They watched as the Golden Glider skated at full speed, leaping into a flying kick that could take his head clean off. Was this it? The end of the Flash?
Moments dripped like molasses and, from an outsider’s perspective, death seemed certain, but they should have known better. Even in the last second a man like the Flash could formulate and execute a plan, engineering a perfect escape, vibrating through and cracking his ice prison, then twirling to catch the villain’s leg, using her momentum against her as he tossed her body into a concrete wall.
Captain Cold was furious and blasted at the Flash with maximum prejudice. Unfortunately for him he was too late and shot past the air where the hero was a second ago and to the ground, where suddenly his sister was trapped as a Golden Popsicle.
“Smooth move, Dad,” Wally grinned. Being a hero looked to be tough work and he was glad he didn’t have to fill his old man’s shoes, but that didn’t make him any less proud to be his family. There was only one Flash, his name was Barry Allen, and that was the way it should always be.
He watched further as Captain Cold jumped around, pointing his sights in random directions. The Flash had disappeared and the villain was on edge. Captain Cold had no chance to rescue his sister and that would be when the hero struck, just as he let his guard down.
Wally smiled. The good part was coming up.
It was well known that the Flash had the power to vibrate at super-speed, granting him the ability to pass through walls, but few knew that he could utilize this ability to turn invisible. Wally was one of those in the know, and if he weren’t he mightn’t have caught the ghostly aura looming behind the ice bandit.
He chuckled as the Flash appeared, tapping the Captain on the shoulder. The look on the rogue’s face was priceless! From the looks of him he didn’t register the knockout punch until well after it had been delivered.
A cheer broke out across the floor. It had been a rare spectacle and one that wouldn’t be forgotten, by Wally least of all. He could barely comprehend it, the battle of good versus evil unfolding before his very eyes. He knew he could never do anything like that – science was his adventure and that was good enough – but man, what a show!
Dr. Wally Allen turned and started back to the laboratory. It had been an exciting morning, but the day was far from over and there was still a lot of work to do.
Five p.m. rolled around and still the smile hadn’t faded from Wally’s lips. It may not have been the most productive day, but it was by far the most exciting. Though it meant a lot of catching up over the next few days, maybe weeks, he couldn’t help but think it was worth it – after all, how many times did you get to see a couple of bad guys smacked down right in front of you?
It was exactly like the old man had told it. Hearing the stories was one thing, as was seeing it on the news channels, but watching it happen in person was a different kettle of fish. There was more adrenaline in real life, and seeing it unfold in familiar places put the physicist on the edge of his toes. To think that was the same jewelry store where he’d bought Linda’s engagement ring, only for it to later become a backdrop for the latest battle against villainy.
Wally bounced on his seat. He was like a child, eager to get home and recant his tale. Even if Linda had heard all the details he’d tell it again and she would listen, because that was the sort of amazing woman that she was. This time he would be the storyteller instead of his old man. It seemed rarity in their family.
He paused and registered the looks from his fellow passengers. This was why he hated the bus, there wasn’t any privacy, but what could he do? His car was in the shop getting fine tuned and no way in the world was he going to drive that smart car that Linda had invested in. No, he needed something with power and speed, even if it was just for show.
At the very least the bus was cheaper, she mused to him many a time. If he did have his car it’d be stuck in traffic just like the rest, guzzling gas and costing him a fortune. What was the point of having a beast if he couldn’t let it roar? Besides, this way was quicker, surprising as it was, but it just wasn’t the same.
No matter. His mind was on more important things.
“I got to see the Flash in action,” he grinned. The giddiness took him back to before he was a teenager, before he knew Barry’s secret, shortly before Wally was adopted as his son. He’d followed the hero with an obsession bordering the maniacal, collecting newspaper articles and pasting them into a scrap-book, buying merchandise, and even recording TV appearances when VCRs were still a thing.
The kid was Flash crazy and he still was, even if he wasn’t as open about it. Once upon a time he even dreamed about growing up to be the scarlet speedster, but not anymore. For starters he didn’t have any powers and, second of all, he had a life to worry about, a career and soon a family. In the end, being a hero wasn’t his calling and that was okay.
Staring out the window and into the darkness he shaped the details of his story. Every line had to be crafted to perfection in order to achieve a pinnacle of excitement and awe. Wally may not have been Charles Dickens, or even to a (much) lesser extent Stephanie Meyer, but he was sure to come up with something.
From the corner of his eye Wally thought he saw something – what it was he couldn’t quite say. If he didn’t know better he could have sworn to have spotted the red and golden blur that was his father, even if it was hard to make out under dim streetlights. Was the old man following him home? Maybe. If it was a race he wanted it was one Wally was sure to lose.
As suddenly as it appeared it vanished. Maybe it was the Flash or maybe he was just seeing things. Maybe it was something else completely – why not? Stranger things had happened in this town.
Choosing to dismiss it he leaned back and tried to be patient. There was still a half hour to his stop, and knowing that his Mom had offered to help cook for them that night only made him more anxious to get back.
“Honey, I’m home!”
Wally snickered. Saying that made him feel like some sort of TV cliché, like Mike Brady or Cliff Huckstable, though his mom was more likely to compare him to Eddie Munster. It made sense considering how weird their lives were; nothing was ever quite normal again when you had a hero close to home, and though he’d grown up he was still the eldest son. He wandered past the threshold and into the dining area where his Mom, Iris Allen, was clearing plates away. He rolled his eyes at the sight, knowing that it was only going to be the three of them enjoying a hot meal. Funny how the fastest man in the world was always late to the table – Wally swore that his old man lived on leftovers. “Let me guess…Justice League business,” he muttered before swooping in to snatch the cutlery. “It was the other Rogues,” she told him. “Captain Cold was en route to Iron Heights when Trickster and Weather Wizard broke him free. I guess there really is honor among thieves, isn’t there?” “No, just strength in numbers,” Wally mused. “I doubt there’s a drop of real loyalty between them.” Not that he would know, of course, he’d never been up close and personal with the criminal element. Maybe he was just speaking out of bitterness, having just had another family evening stolen out from under him. By now you would have thought he was used to it.
It was always a letdown when his Dad couldn’t join them, but they never let it dampen the evening. Even if he was out saving the world he was with them in spirit. Besides, it also gave Wally a chance to tell his story without being corrected.
Kissing his mother on the cheek he took the plates from her hands and slid past. “Let me get that,” he offered, not giving her any room to protest.
She wasn’t his real Mom, of course – the woman who’d given birth to Wally died when he was just a baby, same as his biological father. The circumstances were never explained, but in the end it didn’t matter as he’d been too young to be haunted by it and he had a good life given to him by his aunt. Yeah, it must have come as quite a shock for her to step out of college and be handed an orphan, but not once did she hold it against him. She loved Wally and cared for him for well over two decades, just like his birth mother would have, and Aunt Iris had more than earned the title.
Sweeping into the kitchen Wally was met with tired eyes. “Hope you’re hungry,” Linda smiled at him, though she was forcing good humor for his sake. “We cooked enough to feed the twins. Now it’ll probably sit in the refrigerator for the week.”
“And they say there’s never anything to eat.”
He wrapped his arms around his wife. Though she was insecure about it he loved it when she was being domestic and the way her hair smelled like garlic stuffing instead of whatever chemicals she lathered it in for work.
“So how much can I put you down for?” she asked. “Two courses? Three?”
“I’ll eat as much as you want me to,” he told her, “but don’t come complaining to me when my gut pushes you out of the bed.”
Linda curled her lip at him and raised a brow. “I’m pretty sure that was in our wedding vows. ‘I promise to love this man for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, even when his stomach sags to the floor and hair is growing out of his ears.’”
“’Til death or boredom do we part.”
“You got it.”
The couple broke apart when Iris appeared at the door way. The matriarch gave them a knowing smile – it wasn’t as though she’d never stolen affection from her own husband while nobody was looking.
“I hear you had an interesting day,” she said to her son.
It was obvious from the spring in his heel that Wally was eager to tell the story, but it could wait. “I’ll tell you later,” he shrugged. “Seriously, it was nothing.”
Linda nudged him with the back of her elbow – she knew better than to take his words at face value. “Quit playing around and tell us the story. You know you want to.”
She was right, of course, and not needing any more prompting Wally started to recant the day’s events just as he’d been practicing. He didn’t leave a single detail out – the tremors, the stairs, the crowd, Captain Cold – all of it came together molding a tale of excitement, the kind that had to be seen to be believed.
And there were the two special ladies in his life, hanging onto every word. In a way he was glad that the old man wasn’t around…as much as he loved his Dad it was good to be the center of attention for once, even if the story was about the Flash.
Dinner had gone well, even if it was just the three of them. Wally knew that he was lucky to have a family like his and for that he was thankful, even if he did take it for granted when he was younger.
He lay in bed, side by side with Linda, a restless arm snaking around her torso. It wouldn’t lead to anything, not while his Mom had opted to stay in the spare room, but it was good to be close. Things would change soon – when the baby came they might soon be too tired to enjoy little things like this, and with that in mind Wally planned to take advantage of every moment.
The weather had taken a turn and clouds swallowed the moon. The growl of thunder on the horizon promised rain, as did the wind. It blew harshly, pulling leaves from the trees and carrying them into the distance. The neighbor kids had left their toys in the front yard and they too would probably be stolen away by the fury of nature.
A hand found Wally’s, squeezing it in search for comfort. Something worried her and he had a feeling it had nothing to do with what was going on outside.
“Everything okay?” he whispered.
Linda lay on her side and didn’t answer, though she did shuffle backwards and shape herself into Wally’s body. She was looking for safety, but though she’d turned to her partner she wasn’t finding it from him.
Again he pressed, “What’s up?”
“Just thinking,” she answered.
“What about?”
He could almost see them, the thoughts swirling in her head, and they were as dark as the sky. This was going to be a serious talk, much as he hated them. Still, if it was for Linda’s peace of mind he would endure, and maybe she would see how little reason there was to worry.
“It only seems like a matter of time,” she sighed. “Don’t get me wrong, Wally. I love your Dad, and your Don and Dawn. They’re your family.”
“And yours,” he was quick to add. She couldn’t dispute the fact.
“They are, which is why I’m worried.” Linda pulled away and sat upright, then stared into the shadows in the corner. “Sometimes it’s great being the daughter-in-law of the Flash, but sometimes...”
Wally propped himself up on his elbow, his curiosity piqued. “What is it?”
“We have a baby on the way,” she explained, “and it doesn’t seem fair to bring him or her into this situation, where there’s always some maniac looking for a way to get at Barry. I’m worried that we’re giving birth to a hostage-in-waiting.”
Pulling himself upright Wally ran a hand down her back. “It’s not going to be like that,” he said. “We’ve dealt with this kind of thing before, remember? Any child of ours is going to be strong and capable and smart. Even if that kind of trouble does strike close to home I know they’ll come out on top. I have to believe that, of you and me as well, or else I’d never be able to sleep at night.”
Somehow Linda did not seem convinced.
The wind outside began to pick up speed, beating against the sides of the house with wild abandon. It seemed like every board felt its force, leaving the house to creak in what sounded like pain. It was worse than your average storm, and every one of the Allens were growing concerned.
“Did you hear anything about a tornado?” Wally asked as he gently probed the space by the window. Any minute he was certain that the glass would shatter and fly in his face – best he close the drapes, for all the good that would do.
Linda slipped on a robe and into the hallway. “I’ll go check on Mom,” she said, knowing that it would be Wally’s second priority.
Now on high alert, Wally crept toward the living room, listening to the aches in the structure of the house. It seemed to follow him wherever he went in a way that wasn’t at all natural.
Was this an omen? One minute he and Linda were talking about the odds of being hero-bait and disaster struck. Could it have been the Weather Wizard? No, Flash had probably cleaned his clock by now. This was just a freak act of nature, he was sure of it.
That was when he heard the voice, calling out over nature’s howl – a woman or a child, somebody, trapped in the storm. Could that have been the phantom foe he’d dreamed up? No, it couldn’t be. Any real villain would just break in, but just in case he reached for the steel bat hidden in a nearby corner.
Wally approached the door, ready to swing. The beating lingered at the door, convincing him that it had to be human. Turning the lock and opening the door he was bowled back by the power of the wind and was helpless to stop a figure in a leather jacket from stumbling in.
She forced the door closed behind her and collapsed to the ground. Whoever she was she was clearly a fan of the Flash, given the red and yellow tights she wore and the lightning glasses.
Scrambling to his feet Wally reclaimed the bat and hovered over the girl. She was out of breath, not able to fight him – good, that gave him some sort of power in this situation. “Who the hell are you?” he barked, itching to take a swing.
The girl looked up and bit her lip. There was fear in her eyes, but it wasn’t a fear of him. It was then that Wally knew she was trying to get away from something.
“We have to run,” she gulped, struggling to climb back to her feet.
He stared at her, trying to make sense of the girl. There was something familiar about her, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. “Who are you?”
The house groaned again and the beating continued, filling the girl with terror. Grabbing Wally’s arm she pulled him at incredible speed.
“NotimetoexplainwehavetogetoutofhereNOW!”
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Next: In The Flash #3: Wally Allen is a normal man with a not so normal family. Who’s this mysterious girl and who wants him dead?
To Be Continued...
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