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whetstonefires · 6 months

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Hmm 18 and 29?

18) What’s one of your favorite lines you’ve written in a fic?

Oh gracious. I honestly like my own stuff quite a lot, as a rule, or I wouldn't work on it long enough to finish anything. Fortunately it says 'one of.' Asking for a very favorite always paralyzes me aslkdjadfs. This is hard.

Is the word 'line' here meant to be 'pieces of dialogue' or 'sentences' or what, do you think?

I decided to pick something from my 'Jason Todd getting parented' era and then couldn't find the time to reread the like 30k of All the Roofs of Uncertainty that involve Bruce to pick out a line, so I'm going to nominate something from the fic where Talon!Jason and the Jokester have a heart-to-heart on a roof.

Hm. It has fewer good bits than roofs, being shorter, but they're all kind of interdependent, they don't stand alone very well. Hm.

"And remember, no matter what, you still have us." Jason wasn't sure what he gave away, but there must have been some kind of surprise, or doubt, because J pulled his hand away and frowned. "What, you thought…? You're one of us. Even if you leave. We love you, JJ. That's not gonna just stop." Jason opened his mouth to say something scathing, or dismissive, or defensive, but (maybe because he hadn't quite decided what tack to take) what came out was, "Why?" To be honest, it sounded more like 'whhyyyyyy?' Half whine, half word, a long syllable dragging itself out of his throat as he tried to take it back. Jokester stared at him for a split second, his hand moving like he wanted to reach out and grab Jason again but decided not to, twitched a little like he couldn't find any words that would fit out his mouth, and said, "Because!" Jason was pretty sure he said something like "that's a stupid reason why are you so stupid all the time," but honestly he wasn't sure because his body had gone into full scale mutiny and decided that it wanted to cry.

(It's the 'that's a stupid reason why are you so stupid' bit I'm so fond of; Jokester got a lot of the series' themes put into his dialogue here and they did a lot of emotional lifting, so including that bit that made me laugh felt like it made the whole fic work better.)

29) Share a bit from a fic you’ll never post OR from a scene that was cut from an already posted fic.

Oh this is fun, I have so many abandoned fics.

Ah! Here! A bit I had a lot of fun writing from near the end of a fic I abandoned at 65k because both the characterization and narrative had too many structural flaws to be worth the effort of an overhaul.

“Uh, Lan Zhan? What is this?” Lan Wangji glanced away from the growing stack of rice long enough to see Wei Ying’s baffled, nervous smile, then went back to counting and stacking. “Inadequate,” he said, and kept drawing out baskets from his qiankun bag. “Uh,” said Wei Ying, which was amusing, but not enough for Lan Wangji to let himself lose focus and lose count. Wei Ying sidled over and pried up the lid of a basket; stared at the contents. Uttered a stifled oath, stepping back and taking in the growing wall of rice. Mentally, Lan Wangji calculated. One dou of rice could make a single, small meal for the whole Burial Mounds population; to feed them all well, say four dou a day. Lan Wangji had appropriated well over a thousand dou of rice from the Lan—perhaps two weeks’ food, there. Here, a thousand dou would last nearly a year if they relied on it entirely and did not stint, which seemed unlikely—but it would not keep so long, in these conditions, probably even in a qiankun pouch, so some of it would have to be sold, so it would not go to mold and waste. A year of life. That was all he could offer. Such a paltry recompense, but at least it answered a real need, rather than offering merely what he thought should be wanted. Lan Wangji could learn. “Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying said more sharply, when he was finally done with the rice and started unloading pickles. They had collected an audience now, a dozen of the Wen grouped together in the cave mouth. This was entirely undignified, but Lan Wangji could not think of any other way it could be done. Privacy wouldn’t be appropriate either, even if it was easily obtained. “Lan Zhan, what is this?” “Rice,” said Lan Wangji. Someone laughed. Wei Ying rubbed his forehead; many hours of Wangji’s aggravation in their youth were avenged. “I can see that.” Wangji finished lining up the pickled vegetables, and handed Wei Ying the single sealed jar of ginger. Wei Ying frowned at it, a little wrinkle between his eyebrows. He was adorable. He sighed, and bent to put the pickled ginger next to the pickled cabbage. “Lan Zhan,” he said. “Really. What is this?”

Lan Wangji reached into his final pouch and pulled out the bolt of deep blue silk. He could not press it into Wei Ying’s hands; they were covered in dirt. He set it across the top of one of the stacks of rice baskets. A hush had fallen over the Wen. Wanji stepped closer to Wei Ying, and sought his eyes now that he had been evading. “Gifts,” he said, and felt that the way he said it left no question of his intent.

It was a pathetic offering—nothing compared to what would have been given if he had made a match approved by his sect and clan, what would have been brought forth to honor his bride. But it was what he had been able to bring, without that approval. A dowry he had assigned himself, as it were.

And far more valuable to Wei Ying and the people he had chosen to protect than treasures would have been.

Wei Ying’s mouth and hands worked emptily for a moment, and he made several stifled sounds, as though the silence spell had somehow been cast on him without sealing his lips shut. “You,” he managed. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, let it hiss out. Turned to their audience and pointed, jauntiness back in his motions, the slant of his eyebrows, the tilt of his head. “Okay, everybody scram.”

The Wen laughed at him, but they did go. Fourth Uncle called congratulations and someone whooped; Wei Ying rolled his eyes and shooed them off.

When he turned back to Wangji he was subdued again. His smile small and unreal. “Lan Zhan,” he said, “you can’t do this.”

“These are nothing.”

The linen and cotton, the other bolt of silk, the shirts, the little clothes for A-Yuan, he should unpack all of those as well. But he could not stop looking back at Wei Ying.

Wei Ying blew out another breath, puffing out his lips as it went this time. “Thank you for the rice,” he said, unhappily. “I—I don’t want to refuse it on behalf of everybody, and I….”

There was a struggle on his face that sent a chill through Lan Wangji. Wei Ying, trying to refuse a marriage, with a pile of a little more life lying at his feet as a bribe he could not ignore.

Could he never escape becoming his father.

“No,” Lan Wangji said sharply. “No, even if Wei Ying sends me away in disgrace, these things will stay here. It is not.” He stopped, gathered his thoughts. “I am not trying to buy you.” As though a year’s worth of rice and some decent silk could begin to add up to the value of Wei Ying.

“The disgrace is staying here!” Wei Ying said, shockingly direct. He seemed startled by it as well, as Wangji studied his face. “Lan Zhan, you don’t deserve this.”

Lan Wangji tilted his head. He could choose to agree, to say he didn’t deserve Wei Ying, never could, but wanted him anyway. He would like to see how Wei Ying responded to that—probably by recoiling, but in the way that made Wangji’s chest ache for Wei Ying rather than for himself. “You do?” He flicked his eyes the way the Wens had gone. “They do?”

“Lan Zhan. You could have anything and anyone. I can’t—tie you to a heap of corpses.” Wei Ying made a face and glanced sourly at the wall of rice again. “The rice was a good move,” he acknowledged. “I keep wanting to say something mean to make you leave, but most of them sound stupid now.”

Wei Ying should not have admitted to that tactic aloud, Lan Wangji thought to himself, but he didn’t point out the error. “Not tied to the corpses,” he said. “Tied to Wei Ying.” Oh, how he wanted to be tied to Wei Ying. Oh, how bound he was already.

Wei Ying laughed, the unpleasant sound Lan Wangji had gotten used to during the war, but without the thick layering of pride that had covered it then. “Do you really think there’s a difference?” He shook his head and spread one hand, palm up, taking in all their surroundings. “This is a place for the doomed, Lan Wangji. You don’t belong here.”

“I came here doomed, and had my life returned to me.” Lan Wangji took a step forward, pinning Wei Ying under his attention. “Wei Ying. Do not refuse me for my sake. I—”

Lan Wangji had tormented himself so selfishly over Wei Ying leaving him behind, all this time. As though following were wholly beyond his power, as though Wei Ying were the only one who could choose to alter his path—because he had been so sure his own was right, that Wei Ying must return to his side on it, or be counted lost.

His love had not been strong enough. He had not been brave enough. He had mourned their parting. A child deprived of a toy. “There will be no one else. There is nothing else for me, now.”

To give up Wei Ying, after having had him—to turn away from that whispered affection, or the consuming addiction of desire now whetted by knowledge—impossible. He wanted to say, if I was willing to make love to you within sight of your horrible blood pool in full possession of my faculties, why do you think there is anything that would turn me away now, but he did not think it would resonate with Wei Ying the way he wanted, since it admitted to the repulsiveness of the blood pool. Wei Ying had to be aware of the repulsiveness of the blood pool, but Lan Wangji could attempt to be diplomatic in his own marriage negotiations, unorthodox as they were.

Wei Ying’s face twisted, but it passed through anger into grief. “Lan Zhan,” he said, with tears in his voice though not in his eyes. “Don’t say that. Don’t tell me I’ve ruined you.”

“Not ruined.” Lan Wangji finally drew close, and for a moment it seemed Wei Ying would allow it, but then he spun and danced away sideways, in the only direction allowed by the wall of rice baskets, and was again too far away to kiss.

“I had Jiang Cheng throw me out of the Sect to avoid dragging anyone else down with me. Lan Zhan, you can’t—”

“Stupid.” Lan Wangji frowned. He supposed he should have known that was Wei Ying’s idea. Jiang Wanyin had never impressed Wangji particularly, but among the virtues he did have, courage and loyalty must surely be counted foremost, judging by what Wangji had seen in the war and particularly those three months together, searching for Wei Ying.

Left to his own devices, Sect Leader Jiang would have taken longer to disavow his head disciple, whose unorthodox cultivation he had championed on the battlefield, even if he was too politically cowed by the Jin to defend him properly, either. But Wei Ying, of course, had hastened to make himself a sacrifice.

Wei Ying snorted. “Oh, and you’re planning to bring the whole support of the Lan behind you?”

Of course, he clearly wasn’t. And if any disciple other than himself had staged such a shameless robbery, he would be a wanted criminal. But unless they expelled him, which his brother and uncle would, he felt, after the way he had parted with them, fight with all their considerable power, his affiliation with the sect would still be valuable. To all of them. “Wei Ying does not always have to be the shield. Sometimes, he should be protected also.”

“Lan Zhan.” As easily as that, Wei Ying was looking at him shattered. The vulnerability on his face hurt to witness even as Lan Wangji reveled in it. He was learning Wei Ying, how to love him for his sake, rather than for Lan Wangji’s own.

“Do you not want me?” he asked, bracing himself for an affirmative. Wei Ying might say it and lie; Wei Ying might say it and, despite everything before, actually mean it. He had had time to think, while Lan Wangji was gone.

“I don’t want your pity.” The word curdled on Wei Ying’s tongue and in the air, and his face wore an ugly look again. “We will live as we may. We have survived this long without you, Hanguang-jun, and we will live after you grow sick of the foul air and poisoned earth and leave again. This place is beyond the reach of the cultivation world, why bring it here with you?”

“Even though you do not need me,” Lan Wangji said carefully, letting the sharp edge of those words break over him like a wave because Wei Ying had admitted outright he said these things to drive people away; because declaring everyone here doomed even the little child, and then saying they would live despite him, was too much contradiction to bother with. “Do you want me?”

“If I say no will you go?”

The refusal to say it at once was an answer in itself. “If I believe you.”

Wei Ying snorted, less disgust than acknowledging Lan Wangji’s point scored. He smiled unhappily. “Lan Zhan, I’ve made my choices. I would make them again, even knowing where they’ve led me. That doesn’t mean I want to bring you down with me. You don’t owe me anything. You do realize you don’t owe me?”

Lan Wangji hesitated. It was a difficult question. He did not, precisely, feel indebted to Wei Wuxian, not the way Wei Ying meant or the way his brother had, though he was acutely aware of the gift of his life and the cost Wei Ying had borne to give it. But he did feel obligation toward him, a duty, which was a kind of owing as well. “Wei Ying deserves better,” he said. “And I owe you—courtesy, at least.”

“Courtesy,” Wei Ying echoed, abstract, scornful. His eyes flicked down, past Lan Wangji’s eyes to his mouth.

“You never answered my question,” Lan Wangji said.

“Which one? Oh. Lan Zhan. Who would ever not want you?” Wei Ying shook his head, but there was a smile there now, one that caught in the corners as though pain and fondness were the selfsame emotion.

Once again, he spoke of it like he spoke of natural law.

Lan Wangji ached. “Wei Ying.”

Wei Ying sighed, and glanced at the wall of rice, the silk. Lan Wangji’s perhaps pathetic offering of something, anything more valuable than merely himself. A little life. “I really don’t understand,” he said. “When you left, I thought—”

“You didn’t expect me to return.”

“No. I thought you’d listened.” Wei Ying shook his head. “I don’t want to—I know what they say about me, but I never wanted to…” He took a breath, and tried again. “You’re so brilliant, Hanguang-jun, so good, they named you well, and I would never want to be the reason that light was stolen from the world.”

“Already done.”

Wei Ying winced, and looked at him with his eyebrows knit, annoyed.

Lan Wangji said, “You took the light from my world when you went into the dark.”

#ask #hoc est meum #brawltogethernow #i had fun with the dialogue in that cql au #i can also see inspiration from 1) my strong feelings about Food and starvation themes #2) hearing that the stepped-up antigay censorship rules in chinese TV forbade exchanges of gifts between male characters #because that could be courting behavior #there's a cathartic bit before this where lwj robs the lan sect storehouses #and then talks to his brother and uncle about ethics and shit on the way out #i had him ask lqr if he would rather they'd never been born if it meant he kept his brother #because i think it would be cool if he wondered that #earth-3 #the untamed #ask game #writing #fanfic

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triscribeaucollection · 1 year

Text

Last Bastion of Honor

“C’mon, Kid, I promise it’ll be fine.” Len ruffled his hair, and Wally couldn’t help but lean into the gesture, both because it felt nice and he wanted more reassurance. “After a couple of days spent hanging out with the others, you won’t even want to come home by the time we’re finished moving house.”

The teen gave his mentor a flat look at that, making Len chuckle. Even so, they continued heading down the passageway to the zeta tunnel, which had already been adjusted to accept Wally’s entry. Normally, he wasn’t even allowed in this part of the Merry Men’s underground network - they liked to keep their Sprint Kid close and safe, after all. But with Slipstream literally digging out their base of operations, the protectors of Central City were relocating, and figured hiding Wally halfway across the country while they did so would be worth adding him to the teleportation system.

“Recognized, Citizen Cold, Zero-Four. Recognized, Sprint Kid, B-One-Zero.”

“Kid, welcome to Mount Honor.”

Impressed in spite of himself, Wally took a couple of steps forward to better peer around the massive cave. Hologram projectors dotted the walls, along with screens playing news stations, data feeds, assorted tracking stats, and so on. One side of the room had a modified floor with Mister Mirror’s hard-light projectors, probably for training purposes. Through open doorways around the perimeter, Wally could see a lounge, a kitchen, an armory, a robotics lab, a chemical workshop - all good things for an underground superhero base. There were also a couple of hallways leading elsewhere in the mountain, and he nearly set off to check them out before Len’s hand gently grasped his shoulder.

Jumping, Wally turned to glance up at his mentor’s face. “I know you want to explore, kiddo, but at least wait for your tour guide to show up, okay?” Wally nodded... and frowned, when a second glance around proved that there was not, in fact, anyone else present. He raised an eyebrow at Len.

The delay at least didn’t seem to be intentional, as the man frowned as well. Len raised a hand to tap at his earpiece, the other moving instinctively to the ice gun on his hip. “Citizen Cold to Mount Honor, anyone home?”

Wally couldn’t hear anything from the little piece of communications equipment, but judging by the way Len relaxed again, he guessed the man got a reply. A few moments later, he could hear the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps.

“Citizen, sir! Kid!” Out from one of the hallways, a dark-skinned teenager with pale dreadlocks appeared, looking apologetic. “I am so sorry, I meant to be waiting when you arrived-”

“S’okay, Kaldur’ahm, no harm no foul,” Len reassured him. The tall boy nodded, but didn’t change his expression. “Alright kiddo, you want me to stick around while you settle in, or shall we make this a drop and run?”

Wally rolled his eyes and made a shoo gesture at his mentor. Snorting, Len ruffled his hair again, said goodbye to Kaldur, and headed back through the zeta tunnel. After a pause to shift the strap of his duffel bag, Wally glanced at the half-Atlantean he’d met twice before, who offered him a smile.

“It is good to see you, Kid,” he said. “Do you want to stow your things before I show you around?”

Considering it, the younger teen shook his head. Unperturbed, Kaldur just nodded.

“Well, as you can see, this is the main hub, where all matters of importance take place. Down this hall are the permanent bedrooms for the people stationed here regularly, and that one is the guest quarters and meditation rooms, and this way,” Kaldur pointed to the opening he’d emerged from, “Are the pool, the hangar bay, the external exits, and the garage. We also have a proper work-out room, a library, an observatory, and my favorite, the Grotto.”

Wally raised his eyebrows inquiringly.

“Come, I’ll show you.”

-Honor-

The Grotto, as it turned out, was insanely cool. Located in the deepest part of the mountain, it had a dry sandy floor dotted with the occasional seashell, glittering walls glowing with aurora-esqe lights, and some kind of sound system piping in soft echoes of the nearby ocean’s waves. There were also private little nooks and side rooms hidden in practically every corner. Seriously, someone could hide a couple dozen people in the Grotto, and unless an invader knew exactly where to look, they’d never be found.

“The whole mountain is shielded and lead-lined, of course,” Kaldur murmured as he and Wally wandered through the winding passageways. “But down here, there’s a concentration of the more delicate tech and passive magic, which makes it next to impossible to run a scan to find anyone. The ultimate hiding place, so to speak, if running isn’t an option.”

Probably a bad sign that Wally found that as comforting as he did.

When they headed back up, Kaldur showed him some of the other rooms he liked, including a viewing hall with magic windows that looked out onto beaches around the world, and finally back to the main hub with its attached kitchen.

“I was in a different timezone with my father before he sent me over to help you settle in,” the older teen explained when he started pulling things out of the cabinets and pantry. “So I feel past ready for dinner - would you like anything?”

A small part of him that was still Wallace Rudolph West wanted to shake his head, to avoid imposing, avoid being a nuisance. Wally firmly squashed it down, though, and nodded.

-Honor-

Kaldur turned out to be a pretty good cook, if his fish filets and grilled veggies were anything to go by. He also, by the end of their meal, somehow managed to get Wally completely at ease, sharing ridiculous stories about the shenanigans he used to get up to as a kid.

“-and of course, by the time my father got back, I’d managed to not only beach the submarine above the high water mark, but also cover it in blue and green paint!” Wally burst out laughing as Kaldur grinned, leaning so far over in his chair he nearly fell out of it. After getting his breath back, the younger teen straightened and wiped away the tears gathered at the corners of his eyes, then pointed at his host.

“Funny guy,” he said in a hoarse whisper. Kaldur’s eyebrows just about flew off his face, and he smiled so widely it had to hurt.

“Helps to have a receptive audience,” he replied. “Which, my father definitely was not.”

Snorting, Wally shook his head with a grin. A moment later he stiffened, when they heard the zeta tunnel power up.

“Recognized, Cheshire Cat, B-Zero-Two, Tigress, B-Zero-Three, Brave Bow, B-Zero-Four.”

“I wondered when they’d be getting back,” Kaldur murmured, getting to his feet. “Have you met the Hunter’s Trio, Kid?”

Wally shook his head, and warily followed the older teen out into the hub. Three newcomers were standing by the zeta tunnel entrance: a blonde girl his age arguing with a dark-haired young woman in a language he didn’t recognize, plus a red-headed dude who looked content to stay out of it.

“You are both terrible at making first impressions,” called Kaldur, striding towards them with Wally on his heels. The girls instantly cut off their argument, braids flying as they whipped their heads around to stare.

“Oh!” The older one exclaimed. “You must be the Sprint Kid - I’m sorry, we didn’t realize you’d already arrived.”

She held out a hand to him, which Wally gingerly grasped to shake, as Kaldur made introductions. “Kid, this is Jade, also known as the biggest mom-friend in the universe; her little sister Artemis, and their, erm, Roy.”

Wally blinked at the guy, who shook his hand after Jade. “Don’t mind Fish Boy, he’s still not sure how to say right off the bat that I’m Jade’s boyfriend and her sister’s brother.” That earned another blink.

“Ugh, you’re all ridiculous.” The second girl shouldered her way forward to also grab Wally’s hand, which made him feel inexplicably warm. “We’re all Huntsman and Challenger’s kids, and it’s nice to meet you, Sprint.”

Mustering his courage, as well as bracing for the pain, he coughed and whispered, “Wally.”

Bright gray eyes stared into his own, and then Artemis smiled, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. The warmth turned into a pleasant tingle. “It’s nice to meet you, Wally.”

-Honor-

“First rule of Mount Honor,” Artemis told him when she led Wally over to the lounge, as Kaldur went to clean up the remains of their meal and the other two young adults disappeared towards the guest rooms. “Never, ever set a prank that could be triggered by someone other than your intended target - no one will save you from the wrath of the accidental victim, and Lady Light keeps a running tally of who’s in trouble to pick her sparring partners from.”

Wally couldn’t help but wince automatically. He’d met the terrifying woman once when she came to collect Silver Skater for a girls night with Leopard and Harlequin, and knew she absolutely deserved her reputation as the fiercest hand to hand combatant of the Honor League. Perks of having a mostly-immortal father who’d mastered a bunch of fighting techniques over the centuries, or so he supposed.

“Second rule - prank wars are in fact allowed, but they can’t interfere with the Job, and you have to follow Jester’s code of conduct; the man’s got, like, an actual list he hashed out with Luthor, I’ll make sure you get a copy.”

Nodding, Wally wondered how long such a list must be - even people who didn’t buy into the Crime Syndicate’s propaganda knew the Jester had at least a few screws loose, and that Lex Luthor very rarely if ever managed to reign in the other man’s more... eccentric ideas.

“Oh, and second rule part two: don’t mess with Trick. Don’t prank him, don’t tease him, etcetera, etcetera.” Artemis gave a half shrug in reply to Wally’s questioning glance. “Jester’s orders, he doesn’t want anyone who isn’t him or Harlequin poking at his kid. Which, honestly, would seem reasonable to me, except that it’s coming from the guy who actively encourages us to have fun even at his own expense.”

That just made Wally frown deeper. He didn’t know much about the elusive Trick, who could best be described as Jester’s grim-faced shadow, and the desire to know why pranking him was off-limits piqued the boy’s curiosity.

Artemis distracted him from thinking about it, though, by going on. “Anyway, the third and final official rule is just to respect other people’s space. A lot of the folks who pass through or stay here have had more than their fair share of traumas, and everyone’s expected to be patient with them.” Her eyes glanced briefly to Wally’s neck, hidden by the high collar of his jacket, and softened. “I don’t think you’ll have any trouble with that one.”

Smiling bitterly, Wally shook his head. He blinked when Artemis reached to grab his hand, the warm feeling from earlier quickly returning.

“That means other people have to give you whatever space you need too, Wally,” she said softly. “So if anybody steps out of line, or it all just gets to be too much, let me know, okay? We can go hide in my room or the Grotto or something.”

He offered her a genuine smile at that, and got one back in return. Then the mountain’s electronic voice rang out, causing them to both jump and making Artemis retreat back to her own spot on the couch.

*Recognized, Bioship, C-One, Miss White, B-Zero-Six, Ultraboy, B-Zero-Seven.*

Wally frowned when the zeta tunnel didn’t ignite. Artemis clearly read the question on his face, because she stood and jerked her chin towards one of the hallways.

“Hangar bay,” the girl explained. “You want to go see an alien spaceship?”

Grinning, Wally hopped to his feet. And then, in a moment of daring, he turned and crouched, peering at Artemis over his shoulder to rasp, “Wanna run?”

She tilted her head, puzzled, before understanding dawned, and a delighted expression appeared on her face. Carefully, Artemis moved to hold onto him, her arms curling over Wally’s shoulders and collarbone while her legs wrapped around his waist. She held on perfectly fine as he straightened, but he tucked his hands down to brace her thighs regardless.

“Hold on,” he croaked.

And they were off.

Out of the main hub and down the hallways Wally ran, retracing the path he’d followed Kaldur on earlier. The trip only lasted a handful of moments, ten seconds at the most, but Artemis was laughing by the time they stopped in the hangar. She uncurled and dropped from Wally’s back, hands coming up to pat at her wind-ruffled braid.

“That,” the girl breathed, “Was awesome.”

Wally ducked his head with a grin. His throat started hurting something awful with just a few words, but the combined high of letting loose with his inner lightning and causing Artemis to laugh more than made up for it.

“Well, I don’t think I can top that, but this ought to be okay, huh?” He looked up at her words, and then followed her gaze to the white and red ship sitting on the other side of the room, a ramp just descending from its underside. Wally whistled, walking closer for a better look with Artemis right on his heels.

That forward progress came to a halt when he heard the sounds of an argument emerging from the ship.

“Oh, for crying out loud,” Artemis muttered, “Can those two seriously not get along for one morning?” Down the ramp came two teenagers, one walking, one floating, both carrying assorted bags of groceries. The boy looked human, wearing a light blue shirt and black cargo shorts; the girl, decidedly less so, with her chalk-white skin and solid red eyes. Wally shuddered as the volume increased.

Artemis clearly noticed, because she gently squeezed his shoulder, before letting loose a shrill whistle.

The argument stopped mid-sentence, as the boy tripped and nearly fell flat on his face, while the girl shot higher into the air, her red cape flaring out like a cat puffing up its fur. Completely involuntarily, Wally snorted.

He regretted it when both the newcomers focused their attention on him.

“Guys,” Artemis said calmly, “This is Wally, the Sprint Kid. Citizen Cold mentioned he has anxiety issues, remember? So will you kindly shut the heck up.”

“My apologies,” the alien girl muttered, settling with both feet on the ground.

“Same here,” the boy added, shooting her a brief glare before focusing back on Wally and offering him a sheepish smile. “Uh, nice to meet you, Wally. I’m Conner, and this is-”

“M’gann M'orzz of Mars,” she interrupted, chin lifted in what could be called an arrogant manner - but Wally glanced briefly at her cape, wrapped close, and took it to be a defensive gesture instead.

“Hi,” he whispered, before coughing and rubbing at his throat. M’gann frowned, and a moment later, what felt like a cold hand brushed against the front of his brain.

*Is verbal communication painful for you?* The martian said without speaking. *I can establish a mental link, if that would make things easier-*

Wally’s widened eyes were apparently all Conner needed to guess at what M’gann was doing, because he immediately rounded on the girl, arms folded. “What did we say about not invading people’s heads until they’ve given their permission?”

“I’m not invading,” she snapped back, “I’m just asking him a question, you overbearing twit.”

“Oh, I’m the overbearing one? That’s rich coming from you-”

Artemis groaned as they launched into another argument, but shook her head when Wally bumped her shoulder, an apologetic look on his face. “Not your fault, dude, they’re just- like this.” He grimaced, and she let out a harsh bark of laughter, nothing at all like the earlier cheerful sound. “Yeah, I know. C’mon, let’s head back to the main hub, and hopefully these two will have gotten it all out of their systems by the time they follow us.”

Wally nodded, and they carefully tip-toed out of the hangar. He tried to offer to run them back again, but Artemis turned him down, taking hold of his hand instead as they walked back at normal speed. And, honestly, Wally liked that just fine too.

-Honor-

There were two girls hanging out with Kaldur in the kitchen when they got back, and Wally felt relieved to recognize one of them.

Raquel happened to glance up and catch his eye first, and promptly moved from where she was leaning against the countertop to come give him a fist bump. “Hey, little Sprinter! Nice to finally see you away from your entourage of mother hens.”

He grinned, shrugging, and she took a moment to ruffle his hair. Artemis continued past them to snag the other girl and tug her over for introductions. “Wally, meet Annataz; she comes over whenever her mentor’s busy with big magic stuff. Anna, this is Wally, he’s the Sprint Kid from Central City.”

“Hello,” Annataz greeted him, her face almost completely hidden behind a curtain of white hair. Wally smiled back, and nodded at her shawl with a thumbs-up. Besides the woven cloth looking incredibly soft, it changed color constantly, gently shifting through the entire visible spectrum.

“Oh, you think that’s cool,” Raquel beamed, “Just wait ‘til you see Anna’s wardrobe - an actual, literal wardrobe, enchanted to spontaneously produce whatever it is she feels like wearing.”

“It’s not that impressive...”

Artemis promptly reached up a hand to tweak the shorter girl’s ear. “Yes, it is, and you should be proud of making it,” she stated. Annataz just ducked her head further, but Wally managed to briefly spot her smile.

Kaldur ended up heading out after his third yawn, practically chased off by Raquel, who threatened to chuck her combat boot at his head if the boy didn’t go get some sleep. Artemis took the opportunity to throw together a couple plates of apple slices with peanut butter on top, which Wally restrained himself from taking too many of. He and Annataz made for quiet companions as Artemis and Raquel chatted, Jade popping in briefly to snag some sodas from the pantry and steal an apple slice. It... didn’t seem awkward though. Len had been right - Wally couldn’t help but feel comfortable in the relaxed setting.

But then an alarm went off.

Raquel was the first up and off the couch, making a beeline out the open doorway and across the main hall towards the suddenly glowing zeta tunnel. Artemis swiftly followed, and after sharing a wide-eyed glance, Wally and Annataz hurried after.

*Recognized, Trick, B-Zero-One.*

A much smaller figure than Wally would’ve expected came staggering through the tunnel entrance, bent almost double and clutching at his stomach. Raquel got there right as he dropped to his knees, catching the kid’s shoulders to keep him from falling over. “Trick, what happened?”

“Owl,” he coughed, blood dripping from between his fingers. “Owlman f-found the warehouse.”

Raquel swore, worse than Digger on the rare occasion he got into the good alcohol. “How bad did he get you? Where are Jester and Harlequin?”

“Not- not awful- he’s done worse.” A bitter little laugh slipped out as Raquel leaned the kid back to pick him up, her thick arms barely flexing as they slipped around thin shoulders and knobby knees. “I was the- only one at home- set the self- self-destruct, on, my way out-” His stilted words cut off with a pained groan.

“Crap,” Artemis breathed, typing furiously on an old-school flip phone. “That’s another League base gone - those bastards are getting way too good at finding us.” Wally hovered anxiously at her shoulder, uncertain of what he should be doing. Annataz had somehow already gotten to the infirmary station, pulling out a first aid kit for Trick as Raquel carried him over. Jade and Roy appeared, grim-faced and armed with a spear and bow respectively. They quickly checked in on the situation, before moving to take up positions on either side of the zeta tunnel entrance - Conner and M’gann and a no longer yawning Kaldur joined them, when those three showed up as well. Artemis, in the meantime, finished with her phone and moved to access some kind of computer built into the wall.

After a moment’s hesitation, Wally followed her.

“First they torched Leopard’s main safe house in DC,” the girl muttered to herself, “Then there’s a countdown on the Merry Men getting found, and now Jester’s place is gone...” Wally nudged her shoulder, and gestured to the base around them with a concerned expression. Artemis immediately went from furious to reassuring. “No, they won’t find us next. We’re in the middle of nowhere up here, no major cities or industry centers for them to want to dig their fingers into. And if the Syndicate isn’t actively working in an area, they don’t pay much attention to it.”

Even so, Wally nervously drummed his fingers against his thigh, unconsciously tapping into his speed without meaning to. Artemis caught him by surprise when she finished typing and reached to hold his hand with her own.

Maybe a minute later, the computer let out a soft chime, and the screen flickered to display a dude with some severely impressive scars slashed across his face. “Tigress,” the dude greeted, dark eyes flicking between the two teenagers. “And Cold’s young charge, I believe. What is the emergency?”

“Trick showed up about five minutes ago, bleeding and winded. He said Owlman found the Jester’s warehouse in Gotham - kid hit the self-destruct on his way out the zeta, but we don’t know if it successfully went off or not. The others are guarding this side in case any uninvited guests hack their way through.”

The dude’s face shifted from stoic to thunderous. “I shall inform Jester, and ask Luthor to check on the warehouse’s status. What is Trick’s current condition?”

“Stable,” Artemis answered, glancing over towards the infirmary. “Firework and Annataz are fixing him up. It didn’t look too bad, though, and he said he’s gotten worse before.”

“An unfortunately true statement for that child. Very well, then. Expect reinforcements shortly.”

“Thanks, Might.” The screen flickered back off, and Artemis shared a wry smile at Wally’s curious expression. “Valor Might. Guy’s even older than Ra’s al Malak. He used to be one of Superwoman’s prisoners before the League accidentally rescued him a few years back, and now he’s, like, the coolest history professor ever.”

As promised, more Honor League members soon showed up. Red Avalanche rumbled in with mechanical encouragement, followed shortly by Gold Lantern, and then Talia al Malak, the Lady Light, came striding through the zeta tunnel and took charge with brisk efficiency. She and Owlman were personal enemies almost as much as him and Jester - if anyone could manage to prevent the Gotham crime lord from getting inside Mount Honor, it would be her.

As more League members showed up, the kids drifted towards the edges of the room, and then closer to the infirmary. After getting his wounds bandaged, Trick had curled into a ball on the edge of the medical bunk, the slitted eyes of his domino mask giving no sign of where the kid was looking. Raquel kept up her post beside him, one hand on his shoulder, with Annataz tucked against her other side. Wally kept glancing between them and the main action in the center of the hub.

Once, when he looked back again, the smaller boy’s head shifted just enough to indicate he was studying Wally. The redhead offered a small, cautious smile, one hand coming up to tap briefly at the base of his covered throat. Trick apparently knew enough about him to recognize the indication of his hidden scars, the ones picked up when Slipstream nearly murdered Wally two years before, because something in his wary expression softened. They exchanged tiny nods, and went back to observing the League members adding new defensive measures to the mountain’s security.

When the zeta tunnel next activated, everyone breathed a sigh of relief as Jester and Harlequin tumbled through without injury. Both Gotham heroes made an immediate beeline for the infirmary, prompting all the teenagers gathered there to back off a bit. Trick partially uncurled from his bunk in order to reach for them, hands shaking even as Jester gathered him up into a hug. Harlequin took a moment to check him over, thanking Raquel for the well-done bandages before she pretty much glomped on to her partner and their kid.

Something inside of Wally ached a little at the sight.

The next adult to approach was Huntsman, dressed in a uniform that looked just like the one Artemis wore, except different colors. His hair was the same light shade of blonde, too, and his eyes swept over the girl and her sister before doing a headcount of the others present.

“Alright, everybody,” the man announced, “It looks like we’re all clear for the moment. Luthor’s satellite confirmed the loss of Jester’s warehouse in Gotham, but there were no casualties, and no breach in security here, either.”

Several shoulders slumped with relief, Wally’s included.

“Considering that, and the fact we’ve been losing bases to the Syndicate at an alarming rate recently, the League wants to keep all of you here for the time being. If those bastards haven’t caught on to Mount Honor yet, it’s safer than anywhere else.”

Artemis took a step forward. “But Dad-”

“Don’t argue with me on this one, baby girl, we don’t know where they’re going to hit next.”

Jade moved to stand next to her sister, arms folded and gaze sharpened into a glare. “And how are we going to stop them?”

Huntsman sighed, pulling off his mask in order to rub at his forehead. “We’re working on it. Luthor’s got- I can’t call it a plan yet, but an idea. We need to steal something from the Syndicate first, and that’s going to take time and patience.”

“Stealing from the biggest crooks in the world,” Raquel hummed. “Sounds good to me. What is it?”

“Nothing you need concern yourself with, Firework.” Gold Lantern floated over to join them, and despite being a literal alien, his tired expression matched any other overworked human on planet Earth.

“Sinestro, come on.”

“No. This endeavor isn’t something we’re going to discuss anywhere but secure briefing rooms, and no one beyond those directly involved will have anything other than the sparsest of details.” His eyes slid oh so briefly towards M’gann. “The Martian Manslayer is no longer isolating himself, apparently fully recovered from the injuries Psidney and Madam Hornet were able to inflict last fall.”

If Wally thought the girl’s tightly wrapped cloak earlier had been an indication of her feeling defensive, it was nothing compared to how tight the fabric pulled at Lantern’s words - it even visibly hardened into an actual shell. Standing behind her and slightly to one side, Conner’s face spasmed, and he started to lift a hand towards her shoulder, only to pause and awkwardly pull it back down before actually touching the girl.

“Stingray’s been contacted,” Huntsman spoke up again. “As soon as repairs to the Atlantean refugee camp are finished he’s going to zeta in and look over the mountain’s underwater entrance for us. Clarion and the Coven are still busy dismantling the Spire of Fate to get rid of that cursed helmet, but once that’s done they’ll come here to rest and check in with you, Annataz.” The girl nodded, appearing relieved, as did Kaldur beside her. Then Wally straightened when Huntsman looked in his direction. “We were only briefly able to get in touch with the Merry Men, enough to let them know the disturbance has been handled, but there’s no telling how soon they’ll be in a position to cut someone loose to come over.”

Wally grimaced, shaking his head. He gestured to himself and gave a thumb’s up, then pointed towards the zeta tunnel entrance and made a slashing motion. Off to one side, Roy snorted. “Pretty sure the Kid thinks he’s fine, old man.”

Huntsman’s lips twitched into a small smirk. “Be that as it may, they are going to send someone eventually.” Wally huffed.

After that, everybody began to slowly disperse. Artemis and Jade both cornered their dad against a wall to speak with him in low tones; M’gann took off for the hangar with Conner watching her go, whereas Kaldur wandered back towards the bedrooms, yawning once again. Raquel activated her space-tech flight suit in order to help Lantern adjust some things inside the ceiling of the main hub, and Roy headed for the armory, a pensive expression on his face as he counted through the arrows in his quiver.

Trick of course stayed put in the infirmary, Harlequin running her fingers through his short hair and Jester laughingly telling a story about some corrupt police officer he pantsed on live tv. Wally didn’t really want to hang around them just by himself, so he ended up following Annataz into the kitchen.

She spent a minute rummaging through some cabinets, before turning around and jumping. “Oh! S-sorry. Didn’t see you. Um.”

Wally just waved off the apology, then pointed to the supplies cradled in her arms. “Want help?” He managed to rasp.

Annataz pulled out a shaky smile. “Um, sure. Thanks. Have you ever made apple pie before...?”

-Honor-

Life, as always, went on.

Various Honor League members came and went from the Mountain, including Jade, which Wally could see bugged Artemis to no end. Roy apparently also had permission to leave, being eighteen, but the most he ever did was make snack runs down to Harpy Harbor for different kinds of junk food. Wally managed to catch the older redhead alone after one such trip, and hesitantly asked him about it.

“...I used to work for the Crimson Archer,” Roy eventually said, standing in the pantry with a jar of peanut butter still in his hands. “I’m not- obviously, it’s not something I’m proud of. But I was living on the street, and he- he seemed like a better option than the low-level gangs or- other things.”

Wally waited as the guy struggled to put his words together.

Finally, the jar went onto a shelf with a thunk, and Roy turned around to fully face him. “It’s not because I’m still afraid of him, okay? When the League needs some extra long distance support, I’m there. But if they don’t ask, then I- I feel like I need to keep an eye on Artemis.” Something in his tense expression softened. “It was her and Jade’s mom who got me out. Challenger. She gave me something to want more than always flinching under Oliver’s thumb.”

Slowly, Wally nodded. “I get it,” he whispered.

Roy studied him for a long moment, before slowly nodding. “Yeah. I guess you would. You, me, Trick, Annataz - we all started out on the wrong side, before someone here managed to bring us back to the light.”

From the hints Artemis dropped into their conversations, Wally had learned that Trick used to be ‘Talon’, one of Owlman’s pet assassins. But she hadn’t said a word about- “Anna?”

“Mmhm. Her father’s Giovanni Arataz, Kid; the Witchdoctor.”

Oh. No wonder Annataz stayed so quiet all the time. If he had a parent dedicated to dark magic and blood rituals, Wally probably wouldn’t have spoken up to draw attention to himself even before his throat got cut.

“I guess we could add Conner to the list too,” Roy mused, returning to his bags of groceries. “Ultraman technically was making clones of himself to become new lieutenants, until Luthor sabotaged the whole thing and stole the last one.”

“But it’s not like I ever actually did anything for that sociopath.” Wally jumped in his seat as Conner himself walked into the kitchen, a bemused expression on the tall boy’s face.

“Yeah, okay, fair enough. Want something? We’ve got graham crackers and cinnamon sticks, dried jerky, mixed nuts, I think I grabbed a bag of marshmallows-”

“Oreos?”

Roy’s eyebrows went up, but he nodded towards a bag on the end of the counter. Conner thanked him, took out one of two packages, and walked back out the door. Wally made a questioning noise. “...if I didn’t know any better, I’d say he’s taking those straight to M’gann. I always get a second thing of Oreos for her, and the other one stays in the pantry for the rest of us.”

Wally thought back to Huntsman’s mention of the Manslayer, when Conner almost but not quite reached for the martian girl’s shoulder, and figured it to be a pretty decent assumption. She’d barely emerged from her bio-ship at all since then, causing Artemis and Raquel to frown with concern every time they passed the hangar.

A single package of cookies might be a small thing, but maybe it would be enough to draw her out some more.

-Honor-

Trick first managed to scare the snot out of him when Wally was in the gym early one morning, stretching out his kinked muscles following a hundred-lap run. “I have a question.”

Wally immediately sucked in a sharp, startled breath, freezing partway through the act of standing up. His heart rate, slowing down after the run, instantly leapt back to full sprinting power, and it took a long moment for him to wrestle down the impulse to bolt out the nearest exit. Once back in full control of his faculties, Wally oh so cautiously tipped his head back, to stare at the figure perched on one of the overhead trapeze swings.

Several questions of his own leapt to mind: how long have you been up there; how are you keeping that swing so perfectly still; how did I completely fail to notice you, like, at ALL-

And yet, he only managed to croak out a very wheezy “What?”

Smooth as a bird taking flight, Trick tipped off his swing to drop towards another, hands outstretched. From that he jumped to the nearby bar set, did a couple of loop-de-loops with his whole body, then flipped off to land silently next to Wally. “The League files say Slipstream has a serum he needs to take every day to maintain his super speed; but you don’t, according to the Merry Men. Why?”

Wally forced himself to gulp a couple of times before answering. “Stole, a sample. Lightning. Coma. Woke up, ran.” That said, his throat immediately erupted into a coughing fit.

Trick hummed, swaying slightly as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, waiting for the coughs to subside. “So the combination of lightning hitting the serum either mutated you, or woke up a dormant metagene. Very asterous. Hey, as long as you’re here, want to spar?” Wally’s eyes dropped from the other boy’s masked eyes to his stomach, and the bandages barely discernible underneath the dark blue tank top. He frowned, and Trick huffed. “It’s fine. I sparred with Jester yesterday!”

A single eyebrow went up, because Wally very much doubted that, or at least doubted how much strength Jester actually put into his hits. He rubbed at his sore throat, glanced at the nearby mats, and lifted one shoulder in a small half-shrug.

Trick promptly grinned, just wide enough to look creepy rather than reassuring. “Thanks! I promise you won’t regret it.”

...fifteen minutes later, Wally very much did regret it, because even while injured Trick managed to kick his butt six ways to Sunday. Seriously, the smaller boy barely seemed to move at all, yet Wally repeatedly found himself with a foot in his face, or two slamming into his chest, or a leg sweeping his own feet out from under him. Possibly the most embarrassing was the final take-down, when Trick did, literally, kick Wally in the butt to knock him over, before jumping onto his back as he fell and curling an arm around the redhead’s throat when they hit the ground.

Wally froze. Trick paused, his limb almost but not quite touching scarred skin. “...if I was who I used to be, this is probably how I’d kill you.”

Yeah. Wally didn’t doubt that. According to what he’d heard about Gotham, one didn’t become a member of Owlman’s Made Men without being trained in the most gut-punching, trauma-filled ways to kill individual targets: someone with a fear of heights, dropped off the side of a building. An alcoholic drowned with their drink of choice, or a hacker electrocuted by their own equipment.

Somebody who survived a debilitating injury, wounded in the exact same place to finish the job.

He took a small, shallow breath. Then, Wally reached up behind his shoulder, pinched at the tip of Trick’s nose, and pulled his hand away with his thumb tucked in between the index and middle fingers.

After a startled beat, Trick snorted. “Did you just steal my nose?”

Wally grinned, tipping his head enough to make sure the smaller boy could see. Trick started to giggle, which escalated into a full blown evil cackle, and he dramatically rolled off Wally’s back to flop onto the mat beside him. “How could you! Such betrayal! I will never recover from this, why, SK?”

Snickering softly, Wally turned onto his side and dramatically held the pilfered ‘nose’ aloft. “Souvenir.”

Trick wheezed, curling up into a ball as he shook with laughter.

-Honor-

Later that same day, Wally almost suffered a second heart attack when Harlequin cornered him in a hallway. The warning Artemis gave about don’t mess with Trick suddenly leapt to mind, and the teen winced, very aware he’d likely overstepped in the gym.

And yet, once she’d double-checked that they were alone, Harlequin beamed at him. “You’re a good kid, ya know that Sprinty? Avalanche showed me the security footage of ya playin’ with my little Trick this mornin’, and- he ain’t laughed like that with anybody ‘sides me and my Jay in a long time.”

...oh. Surprised, Wally could only offer a small shrug. Then he oofed when Harlequin grabbed him in a tight hug that could rival Grodd Gorilla’s for sheer arm strength.

“He’s had a hard time, our Trick,” the woman sniffed, when she stepped back again. “Jester tells everyone not t’ mess with him, ‘cause we don’t want somethin’ happening to make him snap, but- when folks find out he used to be Talon, they get scared, and wary. ‘S good to see somebody else act normal with him, though. So thank you. Anything you need, Sprinty, just let your Aunt Harleen know, okay?”

Wally nodded, and accepted another short hug, before Harlequin left him alone to enter the kitchen.

-Honor-

Three weeks following his arrival at Mount Honor, Wally finally got to see one of the Merry Men again. With their zeta tunnel out of commission for the time being, Digger apparently slipped out of Central City on foot and hitched a ride to El Paso, where Madam Hornet maintained a small base in order to keep in touch with a community of Bialyan refugees located there.

“OY,” the Australian hollered as he came through the teleportation device, duffel bag slung over one shoulder and hat tilted to a jaunty angle, “What’s this I hear about the Kid making a nuisance of himself?”

In the chemical lab, Wally groaned, letting his head drop to thunk against the metal table.

Raquel sniggered at him as she passed on her way to greet the new arrival. “Hi, Major Nuisance. You gonna be staying long?”

“Well, either until the week’s up, or our new digs are finished, whichever comes first. Come on out Wallaby, your favorite uncle needs a hug!” Rather than stand, or even lift his head off the table, Wally stretched a single hand up into the air and flipped the bird. Digger promptly roared with laughter. “Atta boy, Kid, stick it to the old people!”

Eventually Wally did, of course, set aside the formula he’d been tinkering with and come out into the main Hub, so Digger could wrap an arm around his shoulders and ruffle his hair into complete disarray. Raquel led the way to a guest room, where Wally hung around as the man settled his handful of clothes and gear. “All good?”

“Yeah, all good on the homefront,” Digger reassured him. “Hartley’s already working on plans for his next Underground Concert, and Lisa’s takin’ advantage of the move to expand her space for housing runaways. Jesse’s drivin’ Mick and Sam up the wall, same as usual, and would very much like to know when we’re gonna get our Sprint Kid back home safe ‘n sound.”

Wally rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help grinning. “Len? Mark?”

“Our good old Citizen in Chief is down to five hours sleep a night, but aside from that he’s doin’ alright, and I fully expect his dear sister’s gonna sit on him one day this week to make the drongo take a long nap. As for the one and only Storm Sage...” the man’s grin took on a distinctly predatory gleam, “Let’s just say Slipstream’s havin’ a heck of a time trying to crack open our old hideout without homemade lightning nippin’ at his heels.”

That deserved a double thumbs up, which made Digger chuckle.

-Honor-

Two days after the Major’s arrival, Luthor called everyone together in the Hub for an informal briefing.

Wally found himself standing with Digger on one side, Artemis on the other; the man’s hand rested reassuringly on his shoulder, and the girl interlaced their fingers, a gesture that sent electric tingles racing through his body. Several other mentors gathered with their kids and students around the large room, the few murmurs falling silent as Luthor took center stage to activate the hologram projectors.

First, an image of Earth. Followed by a second, which doubled into four, then eight, sixteen, and so on. “To begin: our world is but one of many. This is a simplified illustration of the multiverse - an infinite chain of separate realities. Some are different only in the subtlety of a few details, while others appear utterly unrecognizable. Earths that never developed the human race, or suffered massive extinction events to wipe all life away entirely. Places where technology is far more advanced, and others where magic remains the predominant power behind civilization. There are even worlds, such as on this Earth here-” Luthor selected a single image to highlight, “-with a complete inverse of heroes and villains.”

Wally blinked, not quite sure he understood.

“It’s pure chance our research into other universes turned this one up,” the inventor went on, “And we’ve decided to make the most of an available opportunity. A few of our allies have recently completed work on a device capable of transporting several people between universes, so long as it’s fueled by the correct power source. We’re planning to steal something called the Quantum Trigger, tonight, from the Syndicate. With it, I, Jester, and Lady Light, will travel to this nearby Earth, and request the local Justice League come back with us for a joint assault on the Crime Syndicate.”

...huh.

Alright, then.

---

To be continued...

#young justice #yj season 1 #crisis on infinite earths #earth-3 #dc #fan fiction #wip #tho to be fair this has been a wip for like. six years #it gets a couple pages longer every time I come back around #another six years I might actually have the next chapter written #x'D #hope you enjoy it Bite!

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