So leave me alone, you communists!

Hawkgirl scoffed, leaning back in her chair, mace in hand, feet on the table, as she faced Batman. "Seriously? Luthor's showing up at Central City Orphanage and is donating thousands?"

Batman nodded. "It would seem that way."

Superman was furious. "It has to be a trap! Or... something!"

Green Lantern shrugged. "Luthor's a maniac, yeah, but c'mon, have you ever even been to that orphanage? It's a mess. Them getting thousands, even with a guy with a rep like Luthor's, is a miracle."

J'onn was looking at the pictures of the orphanage. Indeed, it was rather run-down. There were stains visible on every piece of the building, and the doors and windows were rusted and old, broken down. There were no pictures of the inside of the building, but J'onn supposed that they would be even worse.

Wonder Woman nodded to Green Lantern. "John's right. We can't stop Luthor from doing this- it would be terrible for the seven of us as well as the orphanage. They obviously need the money."

Batman spoke gruffly, "Barry, what do you think?"

Flash was brought out of his deep thoughts. "Wha?"

Batman rolled his eyes behind his mask. "This is your city. And you're going as an 'honorary guest', remember? What do you think we should do?"

Flash looked down at his hands as he twisted his fingers. His thoughts kept drifting off to his nephew...


Diana's voice cut him out of his thoughts again. "Wha?"

She looked at him worridly. "Barry, is something wrong? Besides Luthor..."

"No," Flash lied through his teeth, shaking his head. "No. Nothing."

No one believed him, but no one pried. "Back to the problem at hand," Batman said. "What is to be done?"

J'onn turned to Flash. "Perhaps some 'friends' of Flash's could appear at the festivities. It would be good for the press, children, and for safety precautions."

Superman seconded the motion. Everyone else agreed. Except Flash. He was miles away again. Batman ignored the obvious fact and spoke to the others. "Who should go?"

Shayera sat back with a scoff. "Kids hate me," she grumbled.

No one objected. Sadly, it was true.

John raised his hand. "I love kids."

"I never said that I hated them," Shayera objected.

John smirked at her.

"So, Green Lantern, Flash, and..." Batman's eyes drifted. Superman blushed.

"I've got to be there anyways, you know, for the Planet."

Batman nodded and turned to the others. J'onn wasn't going to go- that needen't even be said. He had to watch the Watchtower, and he also would just scare the kids. The Justice League did not need a headline like that... So, J'onn- no. Shayera- No. Batman eyed Diana, who shrugged. "I'll go, but-"

"No you will not," J'onn said suddenly, rising from his chair. "Copperhead and Cheetah are robbing a bank."

"How does he do that?" Shayera asked as she, Diana, and J'onn left the room.

"I guess you're coming," John grinned at Batman.

"Yippee," came the gruff, sarcastic reply.

"It's in an hour," Superman said as he stood. "I need to go get ready and meet Lois at the Daily Planet. See 'ya then!" He waved as he left.

Batman turned to Flash and Green Lantern. Barry was still acting odd, not his cheery self. Green Lantern elbowed him. "C'mon, Barry! Chill a 'lil bit. You need to smile for the kids."

Barry grunted and stood. "Well, I guess I'll go now. I'm supposed to be there a bit early. You coming?" He directed this question to Batman, who tried to hide a groan. It wasn't that he didn't like kids- he loved them, he just would never admit it- it's just... Well, Batman and cameras don't mix. That was painfully proven after last year's headlines: Batman Kicks Puppy. Yes, he thought to himself, a sadistic Rottweiler that was biting my leg off!

He followed Flash out of the room, Green Lantern right behind him.

Wally was fiddling with his long, orange locks. They were tangled up as they stood on end, spiking up in every which way. He looked like a cartoon character! He wore his newest tennis-shoes, the one that Uncle Barry had bought him for his birthday a few weeks ago (he was now officially seven years old) and the only pair of jeans he had that didn't have holes in them. He also wore a 'Flash' tee-shirt and a grin. He was so excited to see his uncle.

Wally only knew about his uncle being the Flash because he had lived with him months before.

When Wally was five, his father had killed his mother. After hopping from abusive foster home to abusive foster home (each one worse than the first, but definitely not as bad as his father had beaten him), his mother's sister, Iris Allen had been called. Wally went and lived with her and his uncle, Barry Allen, and came about that Barry was the Flash. After promising not to tell anyone, Barry and Iris had let Wally off the hook.

Then, about a year ago, Iris had died in a car accident.

Barry hadn't been the same since.

His bills had been running up, he had been fired, and he had joined the Justice League. He just didn't have time for Wally.

So, the Social Services had taken Wally away from his uncle and put him in the Central City Orphanage. He saw his uncle very little, only about every other weekend, but when he did see him, Barry spoiled the child with whatever he could squander- new shoes, new jeans (Wally often outgrew them, he was tall for his age), and, if he could (so about two or three times in the last year) a small toy. Wally now had a Flash action figure and a Batman one. He had had a Superman one, but Tommy Luis stole it and ripped its head off before hitting Wally with it. Those toys were Wally's prized possesions- well, those and the one thing he had of his mother's. It was under his bed, shoved against the wall, in a shoe-box. His mother's silver locket.

He didn't even know why he had it. All he knew was that it was there, and it was his. It had been hers, but now... It was his.

As Wally looked in the mirror, he saw a face- too skinny, malnourished- covered with freckles. His eyes were wild as his hair, a bright green, but they had lost their luster. Whenever Barry visited Wally, he promised again and again that he would get Wally back.

That hadn't happened yet.

Sighing heavily, Wally walked into the bathroom. He turned on the faucet to get a drink, but frowned when the water that came out was brown. His stomach rumbled, and the boy whimpered. Tommy Luis had stolen much from Wally in the past year- including his lunch almost every day. (Tommy Luis is a mean, fat boy, in Wally's opinion.)

So, hungry and thirsty, 7-year-old Wally West made his way out to the small park across the street, kicking pebbles as he went.

As he got to the middle of the street, Wally didn't see the large moving truck coming.

And the large moving truck didn't see Wally.

GASP! Read on to find out if Wally dies. :) (I'm EVIL!)

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