Chapter Text
Barry internally cursed himself. He should have known to eat before going to work (Not that he couldn't take a necessary detour. He had done so in the past, he didn't see why he shouldn't be doing it now. It was not like he couldn't do it. He's fast, that's his power, after all. It would take just a few seconds for the others, he could sped to the nearest store, buy some food, and sped back. Everyone would be none the wiser). Not his work as a forensic scientist, but his other work.
Sighing, he flexed his fingers, preparing to tap into the Speed Force again. The Justice League had finished most of the work. It wasn't anything new for them, sure, it wasn't anything apocalyptic or world-threatening. Just an overwhelming number of villains doing their usual shtick. They joined hands under Lex Luthor (God, how he hated that guy) and decided that they should take over the world. Not that it was anything new.
He dipped one foot into the Speed Force and ran.
He ran around, making sure that everything was taken care of and checking if any of his friends needed his help (They most certainly didn't. Even Batman, the only person in the team who didn't have anything such as cool magic, metahuman powers, or the most powerful weapon in the universe can take care of himself just fine). Still, it wouldn't hurt just to make sure if only to be at peace with his own mind.
That was the case until he did something he had never done before.
Tripping.
Being a hero who's whole superpower is running, Barry rarely tripped on his own feet. Sure, perhaps when he was Barry Allen, he probably would tripped his own feet just to hide his identity and his power. When he was the Flash, however, he never tripped. Unless it was in a cold temperature or when he first started. He was trying to get used to his powers back then, mistakes will happen.
That's why he was surprised to note that one moment he was running, the next thing he knew, he was on the ground, face planted. Wincing at the pain, he pushed himself off the ground. He could already feel his super healing taking over.
That didn't mean it didn't hurt when he fell.
God, he hoped that no one saw it. Especially not Batman. He was hungry to the point he was sure he would snap immediately if someone raised their voice at him. He didn't want to get into the Bats' bad side. Certainly not when he knew he was being highly irrational.
Looking at his surroundings, he found no one. He brushed off the voice at the back of his mind, telling him that there was a possibility the Bats had already known he fell and was watching from the shadow. That couldn't be true, could it?
Sure, Bruce had watched him from the shadows before (Considering how often the other League members seems to find Bats watching them from the shadow and they didn't know anything. He couldn't count how many time it was for everyone to jump in surprise when Bruce suddenly appeared behind them. Having the luxury to watch it in person, Barry knew that wasn't the case. He could see that Bruce was just silent. All of them had been so used to be able to hear people approaching that they startle whenever Bruce appeared somewhere near them, though the man had been there for quite some time).
Shaking his head, he focused back to the task in hand. The pain of his knees scraping against the ground when he fell had disappeared. He ran back to the battlefield, a practiced smile appearing on his face.
He had told Oliver once when they accidentally swapped powers. His power is fuelled by positivity. He had to keep thinking about the positives and what to do next once he was done. He couldn't dwell on what he should do, why wasn't he faster, and why he couldn't save just one more person. He was sure for the last part, everyone in the League knew how it felt.
Despite their powers, they are still humans (Aside from Clark, Diana, And J'onn. However, in their eyes they are as humans as all of them). They knew their powers has limitations and despite being able to do anything, they can't save everyone.
They tried. Of course they would try. They knew the pain of losing someone, losing the people they cared about. They wouldn't wish that upon anyone, much less a bystander who were at the wrong place at a wrong time.
Checking everyone didn't take long for him. He smiled as everyone started to arrive one by one. They looked tired and had a few bruises here and there. It wasn't anything serious, thank God for that, a few small bandages and a good night sleep should do the trick. There wouldn't be another meeting aside from checking up for the next few months. Unless, there was a crisis threatening to destroy everyone, there was nothing else.
The meeting after the mission was relatively quick, much to his surprise. Usually, it would take longer. Seems like everyone was as tired as he was. Everyone started to push their seats backwards and stood up to get some rest or headed back to their city's whichever they prefer.
He was about to do the same when everything started to spin. Panicking, he immediately grabbed the nearest thing he could think of which happened to be the table. He didn't want to know or think what might happen if he grasped someone instead. There would be questions and other things he didn't want to deal with.
"Flash," A familiar gravely voice called him.
Reluctantly, Barry looked up. His eyes meeting the familiar white lenses of Batman, the last person he currently want to know about his situation.
Instinctively, he plastered the smile, the mask he wore whenever he was in the costume, "What can I help you with, Batman?"
The bottom half of the other man's face turned into something similar to a frown, "You didn't eat." It wasn't a question. It was more of a statement, the League's strategist and World's Greatest Detective was stating a fact.
Barry wanted to roll his eyes, saying something along the lines of 'yeah, nice observation, Mr. Detective. Do you want a reward or something?' (God, he sounded so much like Hal. Sometimes he thinks he spent too much time with the First Lantern of Earth that he somehow picked up the other man's habits), but hold himself back. He merely tilted his head as a response, a silent question and permission for the other man to continue (Because it looked like Bats hasn't finished talking).
An energy bar was thrown at him. If it wasn't for his speed, the food would have been wasted. Not that the billionaire would bat an eye on it. He would know. Catching the thrown food with one hand, he stared at the other man again in confusion.
"Make sure you eat before going to a League mission," With the flurry of his cape, the other man turned around, "We wouldn't want you to trip during an important mission."
Oh.
Oh.
Looks like the other man did know about what had happened earlier.