My first fanfic. I don't own YJ or any of its characters etc etc. Here goes nothing-


It had been a bad mission from the start. The team: Kaldur, M'gann, Rob, Conner and Wally had been sent to a warehouse in Gotham with next to no information; all they knew was that something was going down, and Shadows were involved. Looking back, Wally realised that the lack of intel was the first sign that something was wrong.

The second sign came when they entered the building- it was completely devoid of life. Conner could see no heat signatures with his infrared vision, neither could Wally through his goggles. They were about to split up and search for clues when the team received their final sign, a subtle beeping noise coming from a stack of crates.

Then the air erupted around them, and Wally opened ash-stung eyes to a much smokier warehouse, his ears ringing, his teammates lying on the ground around him.

Bomb, his shellshocked mind told him, trying to piece together what had happened.

Bomb-

Movement in the darkness, and then the ringing silence was shattered by the staccato bark of gunfire, coming from every direction. His friends found their feet, a telepathic field established before Kaldur's voice sounded in Wally's ear:

Do what we do best.

He was sprinting through a field of bullets in a heartbeat, taking down armed men like they were made of paper. Wally caught a glimpse of Kaldur and Conner in the centre of the warehouse, also fending off the swarms of mercenaries. A large crate flew, seemingly of its own accord, into a group of them- Evidence of M'gann's telekinesis, although she was nowhere to be seen. Similarly, Robin had disappeared into the shadows, and Wally was too preoccupied looking for him to see the wall ahead, rapidly getting closer.

He ran headlong into it, ricocheting back off the concrete and hitting the floor, where he lay, momentarily stunned, until something else approached at an impossible velocity and Wally quickly rolled out of the way and to his feet. A javelin shivered where he had lain just a moment earlier, and he glanced up to see a familiar figure standing metres away, wearing a hockey mask.

"Sportsmaster." He growled, ducking to the left to avoid another metal projectile.

"I see the Justice League is still making kids do their dirty work." Sportsmaster replied, taking out a hunting knife and holding it in front of him, feet apart in a fighting position.

"If dirty work means taking out the trash, then sure." Quipped Wally, grinning. Then, before the masked villain could strike, he started to run round him in a tight circle, Sportsmaster swiping at the blur with his knife, but only meeting air. "Extra credit for guessing who the trash is."

He winced as the knife blade missed him by a millimetre.

Little help over here?

Wally directed his thoughts to the rest of the team. His attention was caught by Kaldur, who replied:

I'm coming-

He was cut off by a ripping, tearing, burning in his head, and was joined by the silent screams of the others before the telepathic connection broke. Wally gasped, catching a glimpse of M'gann, no longer invisible, falling through the air. Conner jumped, catching her midair, but her leg was covered in slick, scarlet liquid, and the shared pain of the wound combined with the mental shock was enough to make the speedster trip and fall.

Wally lost himself in a whirl of concrete floor and warehouse ceiling, before rolling to a stop. When he picked himself up, badly grazed and bloody, something awoke in his shoulder and he clamped a hand over the source: a deep gash just above his collarbone. Halfway across the warehouse floor, Sportsmaster held up a knife, stained with his blood. He gritted his teeth and was about to charge full on at the masked man, but a shout from Kaldur stopped him.

"I'll take Sportsmaster, you find a way out."

Right. Exit. Seeing an unguarded doorway, Wally shot through it, racing down a narrow corridor at half his usual speed; the hand on his shoulder slowing him considerably. He took a sharp left, then a right, and caught a glimpse of movement at the end of the corridor, the glint of wire before the speedster's legs were taken out from under him. For the fourth time in as many minutes, Wally found himself lying on the ground, face down. He groaned and rolled over, freezing when a sai was pushed into his jugular.

"Let's not do anything stupid, now." Purred the figure crouching over him, and through her cat mask Wally swore she was grinning.

"That's funny, 'cause stupid-" started Wally, swinging a fist at super speed towards his opponent's head- "happens to be my forte." His fist connected, and Cheshire dropped the sai as her head whipped back. He jumped up and tried to follow his punch with a kick, but it was easily blocked by the assassin, who countered with a barrage of her own flying fists. Wally managed to block and duck most of the strikes, but he was being backed towards wall and it was clear that Cheshire was the stronger opponent, his shoulder injury making things all the worse for him. He had to try something else.

Thinking quickly, the speedster feinted left, then bolted right, watching As Cheshire turned her back on him, searching for where he had gone. In an instant he was charging toward her, tackling the assassin to the ground and pinning her there.

"I thought cats always landed on their feet." Wally smirked, drawing back a fist, ready to punch until she stopped moving. Cheshire growled, taking advantage of her free hand and grabbing the material at Wally's neck, using it to pull him down, flipping the pair of them over so she was straddling him.

"Too bad you don't have nine lives." She hissed, taking a handful of his hair then snapping his head back against the concrete floor with avenging force.

Once, twice- three times.

There was a sense of finality when she let go.

Four.

Darkness claimed the speedster, and he fell limp.


Please rate & review- it'll help me write the next chapter faster!