A fic set just before the meeting of the heroes in the first Justice League episode/movie, 'Secret Origins'. Deals with J'onn knowing Wally's name beforehand but… I'll go with that for now.


He's not going to say "they came from the depths of space" or anything like that, because that's just too corny to ever be spoken in anything near public (or even to himself, silently, in the deepest corner of his brain), but it's still the best description he can currently come up with for them.

Whatever they happen to be, that is. His first guess would be Martians. Or possibly Venusians. Or Plutonians.


Whatever. Wally's pretty certain none of those species actually exist outside of Hollywood, but who the hell can be sure on a planet like this, where men ran faster than the speed of lightning and superhuman beings in blue spandex regularly save the world?

Weird. Just this morning they'd been disarming all their nuclear weapons. Not Wally is kind of wishing they still had them all assembled. It's the only time (since the whole big race issue, anyway and hey, that'd been a matter of pride) that he'd ever wanted Superman to be wrong.

Like he'd told the nice guy on the news program, even the Flash can't be everywhere at once.

Actually, he figures he's amongst the first people to pick up on their actual "arrival" (given that they'd, you know, actually already been around for years without one single human being or superhero picking up on the fact, damn it). He hears the comets coming first, then the strung out cry of the machines. aster than the speed of lightning and Supermen save the world in spandexNobody (human) on earth sees them coming at first, but then, nobody on earth except for him can operate at near the speed for light.

Well, almost nobody. Those who can are equally oblivious to the phenomenon, judging by how none of them are really quite… at his speed. He hears the first of the drills crashing into the earth before anyone else even realises they're here and…

They're here.

And holy cow, what was that?

Wally skids to a dead halt somewhere in the middle of… he's not sure. He thinks it's the Sahara. Or possibly the Gobi. He wasn't really paying attention to where he ended up, he was just trying to get a good look at all the different places the aliens were landing (a lot of places. An awful lot of places and Wally's not sure there are enough superheroes in the world to keep up with all of these damn things and eeeek.) It doesn't really matter, he stops, looks around instinctively for the direction the voice is coming from. But the fact is, it shouldn't be coming from anywhere because Wally can't hear anything when he's travelling faster than the speed of sound. Whatever that voice was it shouldn't have gotten to him.

So he just stands as still as he can in the middle of a desert, trying to slow his breathing in case the voice can hear it and waiting to try and discover whether or not it was just his imagination.

It's not your imagination, Wally. But it's alright. I intend no harm… You are the Flash, correct?'

Okay he admits it, hearing the words 'Wally' and 'Flash' in the same sentence is already giving him bad thoughts and hypertension. He has a secret identity to keep up, the voice is in his head knows all this and ohgodnobodyissupposedtoknowwhoIamhowdoesitknow???

Don't be afraid.

Don't be afraid. Wally knows that means bad news. Whenever the little voices say things like that in the movies, it's always just before they do something creepy. He tenses, wondering if it's possible to vibrate the voice out of his skull. Probably not. He couldn't outrun it, after all. 'Yeah, says the voices in my freaking head, man!'

Not just a voice, Wally. I'm here to ask for your help.

'You didn't think to ask this earlier Like before the damn aliens invaded? Seriously, you're totally lacking on earth logic here!'

Believable. I have tried before. My timing, however, was somewhat… off.

Wally thinks about that statement for a moment before putting it together with past experiences in order to form the entire picture. He can't help but feel annoyed by what he sees. 'Wait... you're the creepy thing turning up in my dreams, aren't you? Man, I missed shifts cause of your freakin' fourth-depth-level-of-sleep-paralysis thing!

There's a brief moment of silence and Wally wonders if it's gone away. It hasn't. I... apologise for the intrusion?

Wally stands and gapes for a second before realising that… hey, what else could a guy say to something like "I missed shifts cause of fourth-depth-level-of-sleep-paralysis"?

And anyway it seems polite enough, for a little voice in Wally's head. If he's going insane then at least it's a conscientious mental illness.

If he didn't know better, he could've sworn the voice in his head was sighing as he thought that .Wally, you are not ill, though your mind patterns are rather difficult to process, that is no doubt due to who and what you are.

Wally buzzes a bit. He doesn't mean to, but he can't help it. He's freaked. There are aliens coming to take over the world, the sky is filling with weird shooting stars that aren't really stars, and polite little voices are talking to him in his head. It's no wonder he's losing it.

'Damn it. One lousy alien invasion and the Fastest Man Alive goes to pot. Great superhero ethic there, Flash. Whatever happened to Mister Confidence?'

'Yeah and. And exactly how do you know who and what I am you… you creepy thing-in-the-head-thing, you? You know my name!'

...I didn't intend to. I will never use it amongst others if that's what you desire.

Wally swallows. What can he say to that? What can he do to that? 'Okay, I am so confused here.'

Unsurprising. I don't imagine this happens often.

He sits down on the sand dune and exhales, pulling down the cowl for a moment and trying not to look at the many, many stars above now creeping down towards the earth at an alarming rate. 'Are you talking about the aliens coming to destroy the earth or the creepy voices in my head? Because the former is more common than you'd think, it's the latter I'm more worried about.'

A sensation touches his mind, rather like a shoulder pat. Something strange and reassuring, and that should probably disturb him a little because it's usually yet another of the many creepy alien mind tricks this guy could play on him if Hollywood is anything to do by. But it doesn't and we all know Hollywood.

There's no need to be. Amongst my people this was a perfectly natural form of communication. When we meet face to face, I will communicate in a manner you're more accustomed to. This was an emergency.

Wally notes the past tense but doesn't dare to comment. 'So you're not just a voice in my brain who's about to start tellin' me to go after the president's nuclear football, or something?' His bones relax and un-solidify a little there. Okay so maybe he's not entirely insane.

I can assure you I'm not. I have a physical form not too unlike your own. And I have no idea what a nuclear football is.

Coming from such an I'm-in-your-head-stealin'-your-sleep kinda guy, Wally finds that a trifle hard to believe, but he lets it slide. 'And who are your… people, exactly?'





He was right on the first guess, then. Wally swallowed, let out another breath and literally willed himself not to vibrate. There's a crash somewhere so far away it doesn't sound like anything much, but Wally is still very much aware of it. Probably another machine silos crashing into earth.

The voice seems to feel a need to explain itself some more. You must understand, I did not pry into your mind deliberately. My kind does not… did not believe in using our telepathy to pry into the secrets of others. The fact of your name merely… slipped out. Wally. It's all I know, I am not even aware of your other name. He (is it a he? It feels like a he, but Wally's not entirely certain just what a He should feel like anyway, especially not an alien He and Wally's going to stop thinking to himself because if this really is a dangerous thing-in-his-head then he doesn't want to give it anymore ammunition) sounds a little embarrassed.

Still, being told that it knows nothing more than his first name (how many Wally's must there be in the world?) makes him feel a little better, sure but… then again, he's still not entirely sure if he trusts this thing in his head anymore than he trusts the ones coming down from the skies.

'Aren't the things invading us Martians too?'

Not exactly. I will explain in a while, if you can trust me for just a while longer. I have spoken to the others.

'Others?' Aw, man, now that's definitelyhorror movie

Of your kind. No. That's the wrong choice of word. Your… ilk.

'Oh,' maybe not, then. 'You mean the superheroes.'

That seems the general definition. It's not inaccurate.

Was that a compliment? Okay a round-about generalised one, but still. Should this bother him anymore or not?

'Aaand I know you're not going to just stab into my head and start pretending to be me like that guy who came back from Mars… how, exactly?'

You still don't trust me.

Wow. The little voice seems disappointed. Wally doesn't know why that makes him feel bad, but it does.

'Well, you contacted me thought my head. In my sleep We're already off to a bad start with the trust thing here.'

There is a long moment in which nothing moves but the odd sand particle and the stars shifting overhead. Wally can feel the ground rumbling, but it's probably his imagination. The voice is thinking. Wally can only imagine it agrees.

Then it speaks up again: Let me show you.

And now…

Well, about now, Wally's head begins to feel as it it's been dipped straight into hot, liquid glass. Except that it doesn't burn or hurt, barely even tickles him. And the glass-reds-and-yellows shift and curl, like colourer water, before the red and yellow condense into a form he knows.

When Wally blinks (unusually slowly) the deserts have vanished. The colours in front of his vision change.

It's there that he sees it. The image is an alien (got to be, no was is that human). The image is, unsurprisingly, green, a figure, strange but believable. That image is located in Central City somewhere between the entrance sign and the midtown, changing from creature to human and pulling a child out of a building. The building is on fire with the reds and yellows of the hot glass and this time, he can feel the burn like it's all over his skin.

The first thing Wally thinks is No.

The second thing is Help them. But he knows he's not really there: it's just an afterimage from another mind.

Wally remembers that fire from afterwards. It happened during the Superman race. He hadn't known. The building was gutted, but amazingly, no one died, and now he knows why. He knows there was a green man there.

Then it's gone altogether. The images have vanished as quickly as they appeared. Wally feels himself shudder and realises he's standing up again, cowl pulled over his face, fists clenched.

The images were real. Somehow he just knows it, even though this voice in his head could be screwed with his brain

'How long have you been here?'

Longer than you know. Do you trust me now, Wally?

'I… Okay.'

Okay. He can go with that. Little voice seems to have a plan. Better than trying to take them all himself, one at a time all over the world, you know? So ally decides that, for now, maybe he can trust the voice in his head.

'So uh, I figure if I'm gonna fight aliens and everything, it's better to do it in groups. Groups are good.'

There will be a group. There are many of you, and I found you all. I've contacted Superman.

'Did you say Superman?'

The voice in his head feels as if it's nodding an affirmative. Wally grins, more to himself than anyone else.

Why not? 'Cool.'

Still, he's looking forwards to the Voice in his head getting a name.