Flash coughed and looked at his X-rays. Everyone else was.

J'onn was the only one talking, though. "My mental scans show that the disorder is not psychosomatic. Whatever the problem is, it's real."

"I have a cough," Wally protested. The rest of the original seven had gathered in the Watchtower's medical bay, which hardly ever happened these days… Them all being in the same spot, that meant things had to be bad. Wally missed the camaraderie of the old team. If J'onn was right, he might not be missing it for long.

"Wally, you've said your attempts to use the Speed Force have been sporadic…" Superman began, compassionate as ever.

"I had an off-day! It happens! I bet there are days when it takes two or three bounds to leap a tall building… and don't you start calling me Wally now. This is just a hiccup. That's all."

Wonder Woman stepped forward to put a consoling hand on his shoulder. Wally had the urge to forcibly shrug it off, but as always her touch calmed him. "We're sending your tests to STAR Labs. In the meantime, we should get some rest. One of us could keep you company…"

A thousand sleazy jokes about keeping company with Wondy and he couldn't think of one. Just as well, it would be suicide with Batman in the room. Flash finally found his voice.

"Look, you can't just tell me I might be dying and expect me to sit around here all day. Give me something to do. Clean the toilets, train the newbies… heck, I'll even do monitor duty. Anything to take my mind off the whazzits."

There was a long pause. No one had said dying before. Finally, Batman cleared his throat.

"Anything?"


Flash had never really picked up the finer points of piloting the Javelin, but on the flight down he finally let the little paper clip walk him through the tutorial. It turned out the Javelin had warmers in the cup holders to keep his coffee warm. Neat.

He landed outside Arkham and got that late-night Wes Craven feeling tingling down his spine. Not "produced by Wes Craven" either, old-school Freddy Krueger stuff. No wonder Bats was so grumpy all the time. If he were in the same county as this place, he must not get any sleep.

Flash parked and got out. The first thing he noticed was the woman cheerily waving at him just outside the Asylum's gates… which, for the record, looked like they had been stolen off a Hammer movie backlot. She took off at him at a sprint and Flash almost braced himself for an attack, but before he knew it she had skidded to a stop and was pumping his hand in a throbbing handshake, up and down like an earthquake.

"Hey there, pleased to meetcha! I'm Dr. Harleen Quinzel, Ph. D in psychological aberrations… of the mind!" She smiled widely. "But you can call me Harley!"