Marry The Speed 2

Diana sat down beside Wally on the couch. She took a lager from the cooler below the coffee table. Wally had thought of everything. There were Chocos for J’onn, which Wally hadn’t even opened yet. Celery sticks and onion dip for Shayera. Even bacon-wrapped smokies for Green Lantern.

Diana made a rueful smile. The kid really was a sweetheart. Which was why she had to be firm with him. He deserved to be happy and there was only so happy a person could be while eating deep-fried Twinkies, the poor ape.

“How are you holding up, Wallace?” she asked sweetly.

“Great. I mean, as great as can be expected.” Wally bit his lip. “I’ve got a robot leg!” He rapped his knuckles on the metal kneecap underneath his khaki pants. “Lots of people aren’t lucky enough to have robot legs. No way. Some of those poor sods actually have two flesh and blood legs, can you believe it?”

Diana was still as a stone Buddha, her hands frozen on her knees. A native of the aptly named Paradise Island, she wasn’t used to interpersonal conflict. She treated it as a sort of battle, going into the meditative poise that made her beauty its greatest when she was at the center of the most violence.

“Good. We’ve been struggling without you. Your replacement, Stargirl—”

Wally winced. Replacement was such a harsh word. It should have more hard Ks in it, it was so nasty.

“She’s not you—self-evidently,” Diana continued. “But she’s getting there. She’s meshing very well with the team. She even suggested the battle plan today.”

“Wow. Did you guys ever let me suggest the battle plan? Never mind, I can’t remember. It’s not important. Guac?” Wally asked, offering Diana some via tortilla chip.

“I know you need the calories. I don’t. I’m made of clay.”

Wally ate the chip. “They must’ve used the top-quality clay. You look great.”

Diana nodded. Usually, she’d return the compliment but Wally did not look… at his best. It wasn’t just the metal leg. In fact, the leg—created from an experimental variant of stainless steel which still looked like it had been freshly polished—looked like it belonged to someone with far less potato chip fragments in his three-day-beard.

“As I said, Stargirl is becoming a vital part of the team. We don’t want her to think of herself as a rookie or a scab or anything less than a teammate. In fact, we want her to move into the Watchtower.”

Wally nodded along, shoveling some pretzels into his mouth. “Makes sense. I always kinda enjoyed it when it was all hands on deck and we stayed up here until the crisis was fixed. It was a little like having a sleepover. Not that I ever dipped anyone’s hand in warm water while they were sleeping, but the temptation was there.”

Diana pursed her lips, in search of a more Batman-like turn of phrase that was still not something Batman would actually say. “We want Stargirl to be in one of the seven main cabins. For the team’s core membership.”

“Oh, we’re talking seat at the table, logo on the back of your chair… company car sorta teammate, huh?” Wally asked.

“Yes,” Diana agreed, gratified he was getting it. “That’s it exactly.”

“So you’d need me to move out.”

Diana solemnly shifted her head up and down. “Yes. I’m afraid so.”

“Okay. Gotcha. I can take a hint. No problem whatsoever.” Wally slapped his knee. “I’ll clean out my cabin tonight, move into one of the guest rooms, no big deal. I don’t need all the extra space anyway. I mean, with the robot leg and all, I do not need to be lumbering around a whole mansion.”

Diana cast a doleful look over to Superman. Once he’d realized what Diana was doing, he’d started monitoring the situation. Now he sat down on the other end of the couch, helping himself to a handful of mini corndogs.

“This is a heck of a spread, Wally.”

“Thanks, man,” Wally said, looking from Diana to Clark. “Wow, all the League’s most powerful members on one couch. The Trinity! If only John was still going through his photography phase, he’d love framing this in just… really pretentious black and white.”

“Wally,” Clark said seriously, wiping his mouth after shoring up his cholesterol levels. “No one was sadder than I was when you lost your leg.”

“I was sadder,” Wally said, and clicked his tongue. “Yeah, I’m over it, but that was, ah… that was definitely the part of the biopic with the slow piano music, yeah. The Oscar clip moment.”

“And,” Clark continued, “strange as it may sound, I was proud of you for choosing to retire. The new leg is the best prosthetic possible, but it can’t handle the stress of traveling at superspeed, not like the rest of your body can. You could’ve kept fighting it, tried to find some miracle cure, but I thought it took real courage for you to see it was time to move on. Away from being a superhero. Into what life has in store for you next.”

“Thanks, bud. You know, I think Batman was probably sadder about it too. He seems sad about everything. In an angry way, but yeah, emo, real emo.”

“Wally,” Diana said, her voice solemn. “Does this seem like moving on to you?”

Wally looked around the lounge. The football game. The snacks covering the coffee table. The hamper of dirty clothes that he’d set in the easy chair and forgotten to take to the laundry room.

He held up his hands. “Okay. Alright. Maybe I haven’t been the best roommate, but you know how expensive real estate in Central City is? I’ve been commuting via teleporter pretty much my whole adult life. Linda and I were still looking for a place when, uh…”

Wally glanced down at his leg. Once again, he tried not to be surprised that it was metal instead of flesh and blood. Once again, he was not used to the sight.

“Linda!” Clark gestured encouragingly. “You two are such a great couple. Why don’t you move in with her, get going on the job search, and if you have to move to find work—starter home…”

Diana was frantically signaling him, shaking her head, but all she accomplished was getting him to trail off instead of veering away from the protected subject.

“Linda, she, uh…” Wally bit the inside of his cheek. “This has kinda been a shakeup for both of us. She’s great, yeah, but we used to see each other this much.” He held up his hands a certain distance apart. “And then we saw each other this much.” He held his hands out to his full wingspan, almost knocking over Diana’s lager.

“She left you?” Clark asked, as though the reporter in him had a pen and paper ready.

Diana shot the eyebeams that were not one of her powers at him.

“No, no,” Wally demurred. “We were actually taking some time off before the—thing—and then I didn’t want to jump her with all that, the nurse me back to health stuff, so we’re kinda in a holding pattern.”

“Separated,” Clark offered.

“Separated!” Wally agreed.

“Well, there’s something for you to work on,” Clark suggested. “We all know how this job eats up your time. There must be friends, family, people you’d love to spend more time with. Why don’t you focus on that and not what’s on the tube? I know if I stopped being Superman, there’d be so many trivia nights I wouldn’t miss, I’d join the bowling league…”

Bowling league? Diana mouthed, before grabbing Wally’s arm to divert his attention. “Wallace, what about your dad’s old place? You said you had to buy it at auction because he was in debt when he died…”

“Yeah, good old dad. He was a piece of work.”

Diana tightened her grip to pull Wally away from the sore subject. “That sounds like a place you can stay. It’s even in Blue Valley—isn’t your aunt living there these days?”

“Iris West,” Clark nodded. “Wonderful lady. And isn’t she looking after Bart now?”

“Bart Allen, dad gum,” Wally said softly. “I was there when he was born. I mean, barely. There was that tidal wave. I always meant to help look after him, but I don’t think I even changed a diaper…”

“Maybe he’s still wearing diapers!” Clark put in hopefully.

“I hope not, he’s twelve. But I suppose if Iris needs a babysitter, that’s something to do.”

“Terrific!” Diana cried. “It’s settled.”

Clark nodded in agreement. “We’ll help you move in, make a day of it, see if Bruce can find you some do-nothing job in the area so people don’t wonder how you can afford a house in your twenties…”

“No, no, that’s cool. You guys, you’re still in the game, you’ve probably got training and ribbon-cutting and there are some keys to some cities you haven’t gotten yet.” Wally nodded to himself. “Yeah, I can manage. I’ll just pack my stuff, close up the apartment ‘Wally West’ lives at, and give the teleporter one last ride to Blue Valley, O-hi-oh.”

Wally said it keeping his lips in the circled O of Ohio’s last vowel for a moment.

Clark slapped his knee. “Then that’s that! We’ll give you a few days to chase the rats out, then drop in for a visit!”

“The first of many,” Diana assured him, standing up with a sigh of relief much like a warrior who had made it through a pitched battle. “I’m sure no one on the League will want you to go without a housewarming gift.”

“Yeah, Ohio, most definitely. Mos def.” Wally picked up his cane from the back of the couch and used it to push his way to his feet. “You guys can keep the snacks. Polish those off whenever. There are some creampuffs I couldn’t find room for, I left them in the oven, tell Aquaman they’re all his.”

“He’ll appreciate that,” Clark said.

“Who wouldn’t? I used marshmallows and then I singed ‘em with one of those kitchen torches like I’m a welder who’s really hungry. Uh-huh.”