Hey, everybody! I swear to the Beatles that I'll update on Justice Who and Super-Secret-Gift-Exchange one day- in fact, I've already written some of the latter. So...you know...look out for that. Anyways, here's the story. Set after that one episode....ummmmmmmmmm...with the sun and that guy and the ruins? And Flash is running all over the place? Yea. That one. By the way, half-thru this, I kinda drifted away and forgot I was writing anything...so.....yea...you can tell.
Superman walked down the halls, eyes washing over the damage not yet repaired. It had been two days since the strange snake-thingies had possessed them, and things were finally starting to drain down to familiarity. The tower was slowly-but-surely being repaired, Diana had already recovered from the blow that weird guy had hit her with, and Flash was already strolling down the halls, and coming dangerously near unfortunate occurrences with the fact that space has no oxygen. In fact, speak of the devil, the red-clad hero turned the corner and grinned.
"Hey, Supes!" He said, raising his left hand. Superman made to smack it, but Flash laughed and whipped it away, saying, "Too slow!" Superman rolled his eyes.
"Feeling all better, are we?" Guilt still wound him up inside when he thought about what he had done to Flash under the Snake-thingies' power, but Flash had shrugged it off, and since he was now meandering around the halls, it was obvious his quick healing had done wonders once again. Flash grinned.
"You know me! Fastest Man out of the hospital bed."
"And into it," Superman agreed with a slight chuckle. Flash shrugged.
"If you wanna get technical. Hey, I'm gonna go hit the sack, huh?" Superman smiled and nodded. Flash continued on down the hall, then turned at the fork. Superman watched the empty corner, wondering why he felt like something was wrong with this picture. He sighed, shrugged, then went to Monitor Duty.
Flash collapsed as soon as the door was closed. Really? Hit the sack? he berated himself. Who goes to sleep at four p.m? A knock at the door broke into his mental yelling-at-himself, and he stood. Then he opened the door, a huge grin plastered on his face.
"Su- Bats?" Batman brushed past him to enter the room. "Gee, Bats, please, come in, no reason to wait in the hallway." Batman ignored him, before turning. Then he held up a bat-a-rang. Before Flash even knew what was going on, he threw. Flash leaped out of the way, barely managing to do so, and had a face splat on the cold metal floor. Gotta get some carpet in here. "What the heck, Bats!?" He demanded, pushing himself up. He needn't have bothered. Batman dragged him up, and tossed him onto his bed.
"You're still hurt."
"No, I'm not," Flash replied, rolling his eyes behind the mask. "The only reason I'm hurt right now is 'cause you're tossing exploding boomerangs at me." Batman glared. "I meant Bata-rangs, I swear." Batman continued to glare, before muttering,
"It didn't explode."
"I'm still waiting for the BOOM!." Flash replied matter-of-factly.
"Well, if you weren't hurt, you would have been leaning against that wall-" He pointed to the wall to the right of the bed. "-arms crossed, saying, 'What the heck, Bats? Don't you know I'm the Fastest Man Alive?'" In reply to the monotone speech, Flash replied sarcastically,
"Great 'me' impression."
"You're hurt, and you need to take it easy."
"I'm not hurt!" Flash replied exasperatedly.
"Come over here, then." Flash did as he was told, as quickly as he could without cringing, because he figured Batman was somehow timing it, or something. Batman said nothing of his speed, however. Instead, he grasped Flash's left shoulder tightly. Not tight enough that it hurt, but pretty tight regardless. "Does that hurt?" Flash didn't even flinch. He felt like laughing. The Bat had the wrong arm!
"Nope. Se-" That's when Batman kicked him in the leg where Supes had shot him with his eyes. Flash's lips were bleeding he was biting them so hard. Don't scream, don't whimper, don't do anything. He looked up at Batman, the forced grin becoming more and more transparent. "See?" Batman smirked.
"No, 'Ouch, Bats! Wtf, Mate!?'"
"Once again, Killer 'me' impression." He paused, then added, "I only said that ten times, by the way." Then he realized that if his leg wasn't injured, he would have made a huge scene about Batman kicking him. He didn't know what to say, so he stayed quiet. All of ten seconds. "Come on, I'm not hurt! I've been kicked so many times! You'll have to do better than that!" He barely noticed what he had said when Batman kicked him again. Harder. The first time was cake. This was jalapeno pie. Then he fell over.
"It's only four in the afternoon!" Superman shouted. Diana, who was on monitor duty with him, shook her head.
"Four'eleven." Superman shrugged.
"Either way, Flash wouldn't go to sleep now. He didn't even have monitoring duty last night."
"He lied to me!" Superman zipped down the halls, and the door to Flash's room flew open. The last thing he heard before it did so was-
"Come on, Bats, you don't kick a guy when he's down!"
"Batman?" Flash and Batman turned. Flash, who was sprawled on the floor, was crimson. Batman, who was in the process of kicking said man sprawled on the ground, was unreadable.
"I think the snake-thingamabobs got him, and they wanna kill me 'cause I'm so handsome and awesome, and there's nothing they can do about it!" Flash wailed in horror.
"No." Batman stated. "He's lying about being hurt. He's still in pain."
"That's cause you keep kicking me! And throwing exploding toys at me!"
"They're not to-"
"Batman. Flash. What in the H-E double hockey sticks is going on?" Flash leaned over to Batman.
"What does that mean again?"
"Oh. I knew that."
"I was watching Flash and you engage in a conversation..." Batman said, as Flashback music began to play in Flash's head. Although that might've been caused by the kicks. "I noticed two things. One. Flash hi-fived you with his left hand, even though he is right-handed. Two. He said he was going to sleep. But I was at his apartment last night-"
"-And he got lots of sleep."
"So, why did you lie?" Superman asked, directing the question to Flash, who was still in shock about his stalker.
"About what I thought was going on? I didn't. I really did think Bats was possessed by the evil snake-"
"I meant about the sleep, and the injuries." Superman said crossly. Flash shrugged uneasily, then got up and limped to the bed.
"You were so guilty." He muttered. "And you shouldn't be. I figured if I was all cured and stuff, you'd be okay. And you were. My amazing quick-healing, however, is gonna take a day or two more. Maybe three."
"What if a mission came up?" Batman asked darkly.
"J'onn was in on it," Flash explained. "He understood why I had to do this. A distracted Hero is a dead Hero." He snickered under his breath. "Sorry. Anyways, that's the amazing story."
"Well- you shouldn't have done that." Superman said. Really, what else could he say?
"It all wraps up nice and neat, but there isn't really a good ending," Flash muttered.
"Huh?" Batman asked.
"Aw, nuthin. Don't worry about it."
"So....who wants some frosty chocolate milkshakes!"
"I do, I do!"
Sorry. Anyways, that's the amazing story.
I'll probably write a new ending if ever I have inspiration.
Cause it's four in the afternoon.
Your eyes aren't the size of the moon,
You're bad cause you can, so you do,
No ones feeling so good.
Just the way that we do,
When it's four in the afternoon...
Sorry about that, too. I just had to. Literally. There's a guy with a gun, and if I didn't write that, he was gonna kick puppies, and then shoot all my antique cans!