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Forget the dim, shadowy interrogation rooms of movies—if anything the Iron Heights interrogation room was overly bright to the point of harshness. The fluorescence left Wally squinting and had Harley looking pale and wan.
Very aware of Clark sitting beside him, Wally tried his best to focus on Hartley without seeming too focused. Or too concerned. That would be suspicious.
“You don’t look well.” He was trying for an impartial observation, but it came out more like an insult.
Hartley, though, didn’t seem bothered beyond quirking an eyebrow at him.
“What I mean is,” Wally hastened to add, “is that you’re normally out of here in just a matter of minutes. Either you hypnotize someone, or Mirror Master reaches through your cell mirror and helps you escape through the mirror dimension. So.” He did his best to relax back in his chair. “Is, uh, there a reason you haven’t? Escaped, I mean?”
He wasn’t just asking because the League had sent him there to question Hartley. He was honestly was worried about what Hartley’s continued incarceration meant for him and the two of them.
Hartley gave a small shrug, a smile tugging up his lips. “Nothing in particular, Flash. Just that Iron Heights can actually be pretty relaxing with Warden Wolfe on administrative leave. It’s a little vacation for me. That’s all.”
As much as Wally tried to keep his tone casual, a hint of annoyance slipped through. “And your recent bout with pneumonia wouldn’t have anything to do with why you stayed?”
Clark picked up on the accusation in his tone and sent him a curious glance. Wally felt his face heat and his pulse pick up as he realized that he may have just cast suspicion onto himself by the question.
“Oh.” Hartley looked briefly surprised at the question, and really, didn’t he know that Wally would have checked the medical log? That he would have worried when he saw Harley’s name there?
“I didn’t think I needed to concern you with that, Flash,” Hartley said, nothing but politeness and sincerity in his tone. “It happened while you were out of town. Most of my stay in Iron Heights has taken place in your absence, actually.”
I’ve noticed, Wally wanted to say, and he wanted to ask Hartley about that. About if him choosing to stay in prison was because of a rift between them that his continued off-planet missions had caused. But he couldn’t. Not with Clark right there.
Instead, he had to remain businesslike, pretend that there was nothing between himself and Hartley.
Easier said than done.
“Is there anything you need?” Wally tried. “Anything that would make your stay more . . . comfortable?” Noticing Clark’s raised eyebrows, he added quickly, “Given your recent poor health, I mean.”
“I’m fine,” Hartley assured him. “And I don’t mean to offend, Flash, but I don’t think you stopped by just to ask about my health.” He looked to Clark and addressed him. “Was there another reason you wanted to see me?”
Clark hesitated for a moment, glancing at Wally, but then nodded. “Yes. There’s been a recent string of robberies using boom tube technology. Similar to Intergang, but not their typical MO. We’ve hit dead ends in all of our investigations, and we were hoping to make a deal with you. If you’re able to help us out and give us information we need, we can arrange your release.”
Hartley gave a slight laugh. He had a nice laugh, Wally had always thought, soft and pleasant, falling gently into the shell of your ear. He very much enjoyed hearing it.
“You begin by mentioning to me that I have numerous options to escape on my own, but you still try to bargain with me for my release?” He directed an amused look at Wally. “Do you really need my help, Flash, or was this just a ruse to check in on me?”
Wally shifted uncomfortably; what Hartley had asked had hit a little bit too close to the mark. “Well, I, uh—”
Clark stepped in to save him. “We really do need your help, Hartley.” He held up a sheaf of documents. “If you would be so kind—?”
Hartley reached out a hand. “Might as well. I’m beginning to tire of ‘life inside,’ as they call it.”
Wally couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief, bringing yet another smile from Hartley and another quizzical glance from Clark.
“You were right about him,” Clark told Wally as they left the prison. “He’s not the typical criminal. Very well-mannered, but not in an artificial way.” He grimaced; Wally could guess he was thinking of Luthor. “He was just . . . gentle.”
“He’s a good guy, really. He just finds himself on the wrong end of the law a lot,” Wally told him. Even with their relationship remaining a secret, he couldn’t help but feel proud that Hartley had managed to win Clark’s approval. “That’s the reason I suggested that we look into making the deal with him before anyone else—he does a lot of good in the community when he’s not in jail—advocacy, feeding the homeless, trying increase safety regulations for Keystone’s factories, that type of thing.”
“Lois told me much of the same,” Clark agreed. “She interviewed Hartley when she was doing an investigative piece on how Keystone’s factories treat their workers. Said he seemed like a good guy, villain or not.”
“He is,” Wally instantly agreed. “He’s really, truly terrific.” And then he immediately mentally slapped himself as he realized he had just given himself away.
Clark paused for a moment, and Wally braced himself for a lecture on the ethics of blurring the lines between hero and villain where love lives were concerned. But Clark surprised him by just resting a hand on his shoulder for a moment.
“Let him know that he’d have a place with us if he were interested in reforming,” Clark said sincerely. “I think he’s the kind of guy we could use on our side, and I’ll vouch for him if you ever need me to.”
The words brought a burst of hope to blossom in Wally’s chest, and he did his best to play it cool, as if he and Clark really were discussing just another villain.
“Of course,” he replied, doing his best to seem interested, but only the expected amount of interested, and not as excited as he was. “I’ll let him know. When I see him again. If I see him again. Might be a while. We don’t, uh, we don’t meet up that often. Or at all. We just run into each other sometimes.”
Wally wasn’t sure, but he thought Clark might have been hiding a smile. “Of course.”
That night when Wally arrived home, Hartley was already there, drawing a pan out of the oven.
“Oh, hey, that smells great,” Wally exclaimed, zooming over to him and helping him with the tray. “Falafel?”
“Maybe not the healthiest options there is,” Hartley admitted, “but I thought I’d spoil myself after spending a month eating prison food.”
“I’d say you deserve it,” Wally declared. Then one of his former worries came back to him. “Hey, you just stayed in prison because you had pneumonia, right? Not to avoid me because you were upset I was so busy?”
“I understand you getting busy, and that’s fine, Wally. I told you before that I don’t mind. And if I wanted to avoid you, prison isn’t exactly the ideal place for it,” Hartley replied dryly. “I wanted to get some time inside to remind everyone that I’m a villain. It would look suspicious to both your friends and mine if you suddenly didn’t arrest me anymore. So, yes, that and the pneumonia.”
“Hey, that’s right.” The discussion of Hartley’s recent illness had Wally worrying anew. “You should probably be resting.” In less than a second he had them over at the couch, and he gently deposited Hartley and wrapped a blanket around him before taking a seat beside him. “I wish you had told me about you getting sick. I would have been there for you.”
“There’s no way we could have done that without someone noticing and wondering about why you seemed so worried,” Hartley reminded him. He took the opportunity to cuddle up against Wally. “I wasn’t alone. Cold and the other Rogues checked in on me, made sure I was being treated right and didn’t need anything. Besides, being with you now is fine.”
Wally wanted to tell him all about what Clark had said, bring up the topic of Hartley switching sides, but the impulse faded as Hartley remained curled up against him there on the couch, a warm, comfortable presence beside him.
“You know what?” he said, giving a soft kiss to Hartley’s temple. “It is.”
Sometime he’d talk to Hartley about reforming, about both of them being on the same side, no more keeping secrets and keeping away from each other to avoid being found out. And that sometime would be soon. But for the moment, he just remained as he was, holding Hartley close.