Work Text:
It was early Sunday morning, and Mary was barely free of her hair rollers and dressed in church clothes when a knock sounded thrice on the door. Part of her hoped it was Wally home early, despite knowing he had a key. She always got antsy whenever he stayed over at Rudy’s sister’s in Central City. It was different than a sleepover with a friend; even if only separated by a bridge and state marker, it was still a full city away, a full state away.
Mary loved Iris, she really did. The woman was incredibly hard working with a good eye for people, so by extension, Mary trusted her sister-in-law’s boyfriend too, even though she’d only met Barry in person twice. He’d seemed nice, and Wally took to him real quick when he learned Barry worked as a CSI for the Central City Police Department, which the Flash was known for collaborating with on occasion.
Wally was such a smart kid, and had no one to talk to about chemistry at the age of twelve, so Mary thought she heard more about Barry than Iris now whenever Wally came back from his visits. Wally’s mild obsession with the Flash certainly didn’t help, and sometimes she worried about that hero-worship of his, but it was hardly rare for kids and adults alike to admire the hero when he operated just next door in Central, and the previous Flash with his shiny helmet had run around their very own Keystone City. It was a harmless interest, she’d been sure.
Until she opened the door to that very scarlet-suited hero standing on her doorstep. The brief flicker of awe and confusion drained from her like the blood from her face as she caught sight of her son, tucked behind the costumed hero and rolling his ankles.
Mary couldn’t choke out a single word, gaze latched onto Wally, seeming, at least, unharmed, but wordless terror filled her regardless.
“Mrs. West,” the Flash said, in a voice that shouldn’t have seemed as familiar as it did, considering she had only ever heard it in the press videos Wally had made her pull up on her phone, in which he was always doing a strange vibrating thing with his vocal cords.
Then Rudy’s heavy steps came over from the kitchen into the adjoining, narrow entrance hall. “What’s this–” He stopped mid-sentence, taking in the scene at the door. “Wally?”
Their son shied back half a step, and suddenly the terror that had gripped her replaced itself with shame.
“What’s going on here?” Rudy asked, voice and gaze hardened.
The Flash’s mouth—the only visible part of his face—pressed into a line before he began. “There was an accident, and your son is– fine,” he said with barely a pause, “but I do have some news for you that may be a bit shocking. If you’d sit down?”
“Whatever you’ve come to say, you can say it here,” Rudy said. “Wally, come inside now.”
Wally’s gaze flitted between his father and the Flash. The Flash reached behind him to put a gloved hand on Wally’s shoulder. Mary couldn’t tell if it was to provide comfort, to coax him forwards, or to hold him back. Wally didn’t move.
“Wally–” Rudy started again.
“Mr. West,” the Flash interrupted. “Wally’s been through a stressful experience, and I think he would benefit from some sympathy and patience.”
Mary’s heart stuttered in her chest, viciously anxious over what could provoke this man to chaperone her son home, suited in red like a bad omen. “What are you talking about?” she blurted. “What happened? Wally, are you okay?” She wanted to reach out and pull him in, check him over for any visible signs of injury or distress, and suddenly she found it ludicrous that the Flash was keeping him still tucked behind him and out of reach.
“I’m fine, Mom,” Wally mumbled.
“During the thunderstorm last night,” the Flash continued, and Wally seemed to curl in on himself as the man spoke, so much more timid than Mary would have expected him in the presence of his hero, “he was in his aunt’s garage when he was doused in some chemicals and… struck by lightning.”
“What?” Mary cried.
“And I cannot stress enough that I promise he’s unharmed–”
The Flash went on, but Mary had already shoved out the door to grab ahold of her son’s shoulders, cupping his cheeks, his neck, feeling the warmth and life under his skin, before pulling him into her chest and smelling his singed wavy hair. “By the Lord, we need to get you to a hospital.”
“Like I said, I promise he’s unharmed–”
“How could you say that?” she practically shouted. She felt light-headed from the knowledge that her little boy had almost died, probably alone and away from home, and she had had no idea.
“Please, ma’am, let me finish.”
“I’m okay, Mom, I promise,” Wally said into her blouse. He hadn’t hugged her back, hands instead fidgeting in the space between their stomachs.
She pulled back slightly to look at him. “How?”
“And why are you here?” Rudy said, watching the Flash with the same derision he held for all ‘superheroes’.
The Flash inhaled, then said, “The stress of the event and strain on his body caused Wally’s dormant meta-gene to activate.”
Mary’s breath hitched, chest too tight as her spinning thoughts tried to recall whatever she’d known about latent metahuman abilities from the news.
“I took him to Star Labs immediately following the incident. They’re very well-versed in dealing with things like this. They confirmed his meta-gene is activated and that– that he has powers, like mine,” Flash said. “He’s a speedster.”
What does that mean? she wanted to ask, What does that mean for us? What does that mean for my son? Why do you have him?
“Can they reverse it?” Rudy asked first.
“Mr. West–” Flash choked out, somehow displaying disapproval in the little of his face he showed.
“Can they reverse it?” Rudy repeated lowly. He was a red-faced kind of angry that Mary had never seen on him before.
Wally was pulling out of her arms.
“Sir, what Wally needs right now is support–”
“I don’t give a hoot about what you think. He’s my son,” Rudy boomed, his pointed finger awfully close to the Flash’s red costume. “And where on earth are my sister and that damned boyfriend of hers? I mean, ‘chemicals’? Why the hell was that labcoat letting my son around dangerous stuff like that?”
“Rudy, please–” Mary tried, except a similar bubbling of anger and fear was boiling in her own chest. She’d trusted them to take care of her son. She put her baby in their care, but then Wally had almost died, and now his body was very possibly irreversibly changed.
“I’m sorry,” Flash said, voice so remorseful, more so than she thought made sense. This wasn’t done by his own negligence.
“I don’t want your damned apologies.” Rudy threw up a hand then dug in his pocket for his phone. “Screw this. I’m calling Iris.”
“Mr. West, wait–”
“Dad, stop–”
“And you, Wallace, need to stop hiding behind that masked stranger and get in the house.” Rudy turned to glare at the Flash. “And you should get off my property if you’re not gonna answer my questions. I need to give that labcoat a piece of my mind.”
“Rudy,” Flash said, voice soft and sorry, and once again it rung something familiar in Mary’s brain. “I really am truly sorry something like this happened on my watch.”
Rudy’s scowl twisted. “I don’t need some stranger with a hero complex acting like he knows me and what’s best for my family. You’ve brought my son home, now leave.”
Mary had no idea what possessed Flash to reach for his cowl then, in some strange display of sincerity. There surely could be no assurance that they would keep his face a secret when they were both so clearly worked up, but then it was blonde hair and blue eyes and an Aryan face staring back at them, and Mary was lost for words once again.
“This is a really hard situation for all of you, and I deeply apologize you’ve been put into this situation in the first place,” said the man behind the mask, somehow, impossibly, Iris’ boyfriend. “Wally’s safety was my responsibility, and I betrayed your trust.”
“Barry, no–” Wally started, but as soon as Mary heard his voice, ice gripped her heart, and she snatched her son out of range of the man and pulled him into the house. “Mom–”
“Hush, Wally.”
“But it’s my fault, not Barry’s!”
“You’re twelve, Wally.” So young, her little boy, and he’d nearly died. “I don’t care what you think you did, it was their job to make sure you were safe.”
“Exactly, I’m twelve, not eight. Barry told me not to touch any of his stuff in the garage, but I did it anyway. I wanted–” He stopped, glancing over at the door warily.
“Hey, kiddo, your parents are right,” Flash, Barry, said. “This is on me, not you.” He looked up to make eye contact with Rudy then Mary. “He does need understanding and support though. He’s gone through a lot of changes–” Mary clutched her squirming son closer, a ball of anxiety tight in her stomach. “–and it’ll be a long adjustment period until he can get the hang of using his abilities.”
“There won’t be anything to get a hang of,” Rudy gritted out, then turned to Wally. “You’re not using those ‘abilities’ at all, you hear me?”
“What?” Wally exclaimed indignantly. “Dad, you can’t–”
“This isn’t a conversation.”
“Rudy–” Barry started.
“Don’t act friendly with me. I don’t understand why you’re still in front of my house.”
“Mr. West,” he corrected, hands raised placatingly and tone calm, if slightly rushed. “This isn’t something that can be ignored. It’s not just speed. His cells vibrate at a higher frequency now, which means his metabolism has greatly increased, and he’ll need a lot more calories–”
“Of course, he will. He’s about to be a teenager.”
Wally pushed out of Mary’s hold and stepped up to his father. “Won’t you just listen to him? He knows what he’s talking about!”
“Wallace West, go to your room.”
“No! He’s trying to help me, help us, so I won’t starve.”
Mary felt her cheeks flush. “If you think we’d let you starve–”
“You’re not even listening!” Wally yelled, his ears and freckled cheeks growing red as his eyes shone wetly.
“C’mon, kiddo, yelling won’t help anybody,” Barry told him quietly.
“But they’re not!”
“They’re just worried about you. We all are. It’s okay. I’ll sort this out with your parents.”
Something burned in Mary’s chest, seeing Barry parent her child, managing to calm him when Wally had only pushed his mother away and shouted at his father.
She shoved that feeling down because while she was so, devastatingly furious with this man, Barry was right, and Wally was, even if physically unharmed, still clearly hurting. “Honey,” she said, keeping her voice gentle even as it wavered, “are you hungry now?”
Wally whipped his head over to her, eyes wide. “I uh– I had breakfast.”
“Well, I’m very glad they at least fed you, but Barry said you were in a lab,” she said, barely managing to conceal her contempt and horror. “I don’t know what kind of food it was, but I imagine you’ve had a less than pleasant morning. There’s still several slices of Mrs. Doyle’s pie in the kitchen.”
Wally’s eyes widened further, but he acquiesced as easily as she’d thought he would.
“Now, you boys can take your conversation outside,” she said over her shoulder as she steered Wally to the kitchen.
“But–” Wally started.
“Hush, Wally. Pie first. You’ll feel better after, I promise.”
Wally looked back at the door, where Barry nodded at her then gave Wally a smile. Rudy was still scowling.
She pushed Wally through into the kitchen and out of sight, and soon enough she heard the front door close. The walls couldn’t quite hide the yelling. She hoped no one would look out their windows and see an unmasked Flash on their front step, or her husband shouting at him. Hopefully most of their neighbours had already left for church.
Wally ate his pie rather dejectedly, gaze flickering over to the entrance hall at every louder shout. Mary didn’t take her eyes off her son, checking and checking again that he really was unharmed beyond the unseen changes to his body, by some miracle.
“I guess we won’t be making it to church this morning,” she said after a moment.
Wally choked out a laugh around his fork, then looked down guiltily as he set his utensil down.
Mary wiped crust crumbs from his chin then cupped his cheek, staring until he met her eyes. She leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead. He felt unnaturally warm, just short of a fever. “We’ll figure this out, honey,” she whispered.
───
With the formation of the Justice League, public opinion of superheroes seemed to crescendo, at least in cities regularly saved by them. Rudy took to watching… more conservative news channels. Wally took to avoiding the living room.
Most people not on the east coast hadn’t thought of the Batman as anything beyond another one of Gotham City’s over-exaggerated horror stories until he had joined the Justice League, but it was the widespread news of the Batman having a child sidekick that seemed to get Wally’s attention the most.
Wally had always excelled in school, and Mary knew he wanted to help people, but she’d always thought he’d be something like a doctor or chemist. She never thought she’d have to worry about something like this…
It was a rule that Wally couldn’t use his powers in the house, besides the things he couldn’t control like the enhanced metabolism and healing of course. But he still went with Barry to Star Labs regularly. ‘Check-ups’, Barry had called it. ‘Training,’ she’d overheard Wally saying.
It terrified her.
Then Wally started offhandedly mentioning friends she’d never heard of, Rob and Roy. Except Rob lived in Gotham of all places and Roy all the way in Star City. But Wally talked about them like he’d seen them in person more than just the one mathlete competition that apparently brought Rob to Keystone in the first place, and however else he said he’d met Roy. The thought of her boy crossing city limits to more than just Central with his new abilities had her actually considering getting Wally a phone if only to track it.
It was a day nearing the end of summer, when Rudy was at work and Mary had a different news station on as she cleaned, that her instincts, which she had begged to be wrong, culminated into a sick dread.
The newscaster spoke of yellow lightning following beside the usual streak of orange seen through downtown Central, showing photos of a blurry yellow suit with a tuft of orange on top. The headline read ‘Central’s Own Robin: More Heroes Taking on Young Sidekicks?’
She almost tripped over the vacuum cord in her haste to get to her phone in the kitchen.
Barry’s phone number was one of the first things she had demanded when he started taking Wally for those regular check-ups. The second thing was that her and Rudy would be informed of any updates on his condition and what they were doing there.
The phone rang until she went to voicemail. She dialed again, and this time he answered on the second ring. Barry didn’t say a word before Mary yelled into the receiver, heart in her throat, “Where the hell is my son?”
“Mom..?”
Mary whipped around to see Wally standing in front of the entryway, clothes rumpled and hair windswept, a Star Labs labeled backpack he hadn’t left with slung over his shoulder. Instead of relief, her dread toppled head first into nauseating fear.
“I’ll speak with you later,” she said into the phone before hanging up and rushing for Wally. “What were you thinking? What was he thinking?”
“Mo–”
“Absolutely not. I will not have it.” She pressed a hand to her forehead, feeling short of oxygen. “Dear God, we shouldn’t have let you go with him–”
“No, Mom, it wasn’t Barry’s fault, I swear! He didn’t want me to, but I–”
“Barry’s the adult! But you should also know better. I never want you doing anything like that again. You’ll get yourself hurt, or worse.”
“I won’t! I’ll be careful! You haven’t seen it, but Mom, I’m super fast, and the whole speed healing–”
“I don’t care! You’re not invincible, Wally! You’re not Superman. You’re not faster than a speeding bullet, and you’re not stronger than one either.” She felt absolutely sick with the image of a gun pointed at Wally in her mind. “I won’t have you going out there thinking you’re some hero when you’re a kid! My kid.”
“There are plenty of kids out there! And it’s not like I’m going unprepared! Barry’s been training me, and Star Labs has been making a suit–”
“He’s been what?”
“I mean–”
“Go to your room.”
“No, come on–”
“This isn’t up for debate. You won’t be doing this again, and I will be having a word with Barry and Iris. Go to your room until your father gets home.”
“Are you gonna tell Dad..?”
“What– Of course, I’m telling your dad.”
“No, Mom, please don’t tell him.”
“Wally, this isn’t okay–”
“You don’t have to tell him! I’ll stop!”
“He’s going to find out anyway. We’ll talk about a proper punishment when he gets home, but for now, just go to your room.”
Wally puffed up his cheeks, like he wanted to argue more, but then turned and marched towards the stairs.
“Leave the bag.”
Wally whipped around, one hand tightly clutching the strap. “It’s just a bag!”
“I have been on God’s Earth thirty-six years, Wallace. I am not an idiot. Leave. The bag.”
Face twisted up, Wally tore off the backpack and tossed it onto the floor before disappearing up the stairs with loud stomps. The picture frames on the wall shook with the force of his slamming door.
“Wally!”
Something else banged upstairs in response before it fell quiet.
Mary hadn’t even noticed the news was still on until it was the only sound left in the house.
She dropped into one of the kitchen chairs and let her head fall into her hands, breath shuddering out of her as she tried to calm her racing mind. After a couple minutes, her phone buzzed. When she slid her hands down to only cover half her face, she caught sight of the backpack. She took a breath and got up to retrieve it.
Her trembling fingers slowly pulled apart the top two zippers, and she stared down at a yellow, scaly material. Closing her eyes, something close to a whimper left her throat.
“Lord, what am I to do?” she whispered.
She threw the bag and costume into the garbage bin outside then sat on the couch staring at stains in the paint until her husband got home.
───
Sitting at the kitchen table, Mary stared at The Citizen’s newest article on her phone for five long minutes.
A Flashy Debut: ‘Kid Flash’ Aids In Abra Kadabra’s Arrest by Iris West
She hadn’t wondered about all the articles on the Flash Iris had written before. Now, Mary questioned if this went against some kind of journalist code.
When the door opened, she sprung to her feet and to the door. Wally looked up as he was toeing off his shoes, his overnight bag from his aunt’s at his feet.
“Let me see.”
“Mom, I’m fine.”
He tried to swat her away, but she pat him down perhaps a little roughly until she reached his ribs and he stiffened. She wasted no time in lifting up his hoodie to get a look at his torso.
“Mom–”
“You’re bruised,” she said appalled, feeling around the brown-yellow flesh on his ribs for any swelling. She still hadn’t gotten used to his unnaturally warmed skin, as if he was constantly running a low fever.
“It’s just a bruise,” Wally defended, shying away from her touch.
“It’s a bruise, and that fight was ten hours ago. Which means you were hurt a lot worse.”
“Okay, it was a bruised rib, but it’s just surface now!”
“I can’t believe I let you two talk me into this. This is a horrible idea–”
“You can’t take it back now! I promise, Uncle Barry’s been watching out for me. And Rob’s a great trainer too. You should see his evasion skills. His flips are crazy.”
Because Rob was Robin of all people, and Roy a sidekick for the Green Arrow. What the world had come to, she didn’t know.
“I thought he was going to keep you away from dangerous metas like that.”
“Abra Kadabra’s not a meta, he’s a magician.”
“Wally, don’t be smart with me.”
“Okay, yeah, Uncle Barry’s trying, but what’s he supposed to do when a magician starts putting a bunch of scientists into bubbles to steal something from Ivo Labs?”
“Not take you along.”
“You’d rather he just leave me in the middle of the street?”
“You could run home,” Mary stressed.
“What if I ran into trouble while out on my own? It’s better if Barry and I stick together.”
Mary dropped her head. “Dear God.”
“Don’t say the Lord’s name in vain.”
Mary looked up to halfheartedly glare at her son’s cheeky smile. He hardly even went to Church with them anymore, spending most weekends at Iris and Barry’s.
Rudy groaned from the living room, getting up from the couch and walking by them without a word to go upstairs.
Mary straightened up and pet her hand over Wally’s drooping head, his hair so much softer than her own. “He’s just worried about you. We both are.”
“I know,” Wally said, mood soured.
In the living room, the tv showed footage of an anti-meta rally. Mary sighed through her nose. “Unpack your clothes and wash up for dinner. You finished your homework on Friday?”
“Yeah.”
“Good.”
Wally retreated to his room while Mary checked the oven.
She had always made at least six servings of every dinner, enough for each of them to bring as lunches the following day. When Wally had first gotten his powers, on top of puberty, he started eating an extra serving or two each night. Since he started going out with Barry on weekends (and Mary suspected he’d started using his powers more even during weekdays too), Wally was now finishing off everything she cooked. Breakfasts and lunches had doubled in size, and he was regularly snacking too.
On weekends, he ate most of his meals at Iris’, but Mary still noticed it adding up. She’d gone shopping a week ago, and they were already just about run out of stuff for Wally’s school lunches and snacks.
Barry had given her a rough estimate of how many calories Wally would need, with a focus on carbs and proteins, but she was sure Wally’s daily consumption had far exceeded that. He’d hit another growth spurt just before the new school year, and no matter how much food she crammed into his gullet, his limbs stayed long and bony.
She wondered if he was hungry, still, after all the food. Wally never said anything about it, never complained if they ran out of easy things to snack on and she hadn’t yet run out to buy more. But he wouldn’t, her sweet boy. Guilt gnawed at her. For all she knew, he could be hungry all the time, stomach a constant state of empty. That must be its own kind of torture, to eat and never be full.
Her heart ached and eyes stung, and a fading but still present part of her flared up in resentment for Barry, for the change forced upon her son. But– Wally was happy. He enjoyed what he was doing. He was helping people, even when it felt like he might give her a heart attack.
So, money was getting tighter, but she could still put food on the table. Her son would not be hungry under her own roof, damnit.
When footsteps started down the stairs, she wiped at her nose and finished preparing dinner.
───
Mary’s phone rang with an area code she didn’t recognize. She hung up without letting it ring out. The number tried again not even a second later.
She picked up. “Hello?”
“Good evening. Mary West?” asked a deep male voice.
“Yes, who is this?” It was rare for an unfamiliar caller to address her as Mary instead of Emmaline.
“I’m a work friend of Barry’s.”
Mary blinked. “The CCPD? Why are you calling me?” She hurried across the hall from her bedroom to Wally’s closed door and took a relieved sigh to hear music playing quietly through his new phone. She’d dipped into her savings to buy it. Rudy hadn’t been happy about it.
“No, his other work.”
“His other– Oh.” Mary tried to recall all of the male members on the Justice League. It wasn’t too many, but she wasn’t familiar with any of their voices aside from Barry’s.
“I don’t like to talk about work matters over the phone, but I have a matter regarding Wally that I think would be good news for you, if you’d be okay with meeting.”
“With all due respect, I don’t know you.”
The man chuckled. “Of course. We can meet in public, any place that’s convenient for you, and a friend of Wally’s will be there if you’d like to bring him along.”
“A friend of his? You mean–” She hesitated. “Rob?”
The man paused. “Yes, Rob,” he said—the Batman said.
“Right,” she said, feeling breathless. “Uh, when, sorry?”
“I understand it’s getting late, so any time this week when Wally’s not in school should suffice. You don’t have to decide now. Text the location and time you’d prefer to this number. If it so happens not to work for us, I’ll let you know.”
“Alright, I will, then. Thank you, Mr.,” she trailed off. He purposefully hadn’t mentioned anything to do with his secret profession over the phone.
“That’s alright. Just contact me when you can. Have a nice night, Mrs. West.”
“Right. You too.”
Her phone beeped.
Mary stared at it, then opened Wally’s door without knocking.
Wally looked up, surprised, from the worksheet on his desk. He turned off his music. “Uh, hi? Something wrong?”
“I think the Batman just called me.”
───
The man and child waiting for them on the bench at the skate park (Wally’s choice after talking with Robin) both wore ball caps and sunglasses that would have been strange for late October if it didn’t happen to be a sunny day. The boy launched up when he saw Wally, running into him for a hug with a speed that made Mary wonder what kind of metahuman abilities that kid had.
The two of them were quick to run off as soon as Robin gave Wally the extra skateboard and helmet he was carrying, without so much as a word to her.
The man, Batman, dressed in a hoodie that said Gotham Knights and jeans, stood to shake her hand when she approached. He was tall and clearly large under the sweater, but his smile at least was friendly. Very different from the stories she’d heard about the illusive vigilante, who avoided even Justice League press.
“Mrs. West, it’s nice to formally meet you. I’ve had the pleasure of meeting your son on a few occasions, so this has been overdue.” He sat back down on the bench and gestured for her to do the same.
She did so, resting her purse on her lap and watching the boys in front of them while taking occasional glances at the man beside her. “I honestly can’t say I expected this meeting. I don’t–” She paused, wondering if she was about to offend probably the most dangerous man she’d met. “I don’t exactly approve of what Barry does.”
“That’s understandable. It’s an unconventional profession, but he does it out of love and wanting to protect those close to him.”
Mary didn’t respond, watching Robin instruct Wally on proper form before going down the ramp and waiting for him to follow.
Wally followed with seemingly no problem, and her chest eased of some tension. Robin wore a bright grin.
“Can I ask, Robi– um, Rob. He’s your son?”
Robin cackled at something Wally said, the sound carrying over easily to them.
“I’m his caretaker, yes,” the man answered after a moment.
“Oh, right.” She cleared her throat. “How do you do it?”
He raised an eyebrow from behind his sunglasses with a slightly amused smile, and Mary rushed to continue.
“I don’t mean to be disrespectful, but I was– you have to know that I was quite against this, still am, in all honesty. How can you send him out there all the time? He looks younger than Wally.” She watched with a tight grip on her purse as Wally very nearly fell off his skateboard trying to copy Robin on a spin.
Batman hummed. “I was against it too,” he said.
Mary looked over at him with wide eyes.
“Gotham is dangerous even in broad daylight, and I certainly didn’t want him out there at night, but he kept sneaking out on his own, again and again, no matter how many measures I put in place.” Batman sighed. “Short of leaving Gotham all together, I wasn’t sure what more to do. So I trained him. I figured if I taught him all I know and made sure I was always with him, at least he would be equipped with the tools to handle it.”
Suddenly, she felt embarrassed at how easily she had given into Wally’s pleadings and Barry’s placations. But Wally was right in that there was little she could do about it now. He’d started, and there was nigh chance he’d stop. “And that… helped?” she asked, skeptically.
He huffed a laugh and shook his head. “No. In fact, I’m still scared something will happen to him, every night we’re out there. But I take comfort in knowing he’s safer than he was. That’s the thing about raising a child, I think. I can’t completely protect him from the world, but I can at least make sure he’s equipped with the skills to handle it.”
“This is a rather unconventional way to take that advice.”
“Yes. Yes, it is.” Batman glanced over at her. “Take solace in the fact that Barry is with him while he’s out there. He is one of the best men I know, and I’m positive he’ll always do everything in his power to make sure Wally gets home safe.”
A familiar bitterness roused in her chest, and she turned away. “One of the best men you know, huh?”
“You disagree?”
She tightened her grip on her purse. “He’s the one who let this happen to Wally in the first place.”
Batman leaned forward to rest his elbows on his thighs. From this angle, she could see his eyes were blue, face profile a little familiar, like Barry’s had been.
“Meta-genes are complicated,” he began. “It may not have been active, but he’s always had one. Even if it didn’t activate when it did, it was likely to happen at some point eventually. Some other stressful event in his life would have triggered it, when he wouldn’t have had Barry’s knowledge and support to help and guide him. And being a metahuman isn’t a bad thing. He’s using his abilities for good.”
“But he didn’t choose this.”
Batman’s mouth quirked down, almost like he disagreed. “Do you think he’s unhappy?” He glanced over at the boys. “He looks pretty well to me.”
Wally was grinning brighter than she’d seen in much too long.
“That’s the thing, he wouldn’t show it if he wasn’t! He wouldn’t tell me if he was injured if I didn’t check him every time he came home, and he probably wouldn’t tell me if he was still hungry after four dinners.”
“That’s part of what I called you for.” Batman sat up and reached into his hoodie pocket, pulling out a wide, plastic wrapped bar. He passed it over.
The packaging was bland and clearly not meant for marketing, more like a ration bar that might be given to soldiers or astronauts—silver with black text aligned to one corner, reading:
Wayne Enterprises
Meal Bar Prototype 6.5
Calories and other specifics on its contained nutrients followed.
It was… a lot.
“We’re still improving them,” Batman carried on, “especially in the taste department, but I figured the sooner you both had access to something, the better.”
Mary’s throat felt tight. She couldn’t look away from that small black text.
Batman continued, quieter but unhindered, “Of course, the Justice League is here to support you as well. I understand you and your husband never anticipated the large sum that an enhanced metabolism entails, so do not feel like you need to struggle in silence, should it come to that. The League is more than equipped to lend any financial aid you might need.”
Mary’s face felt aflame, and it was like she had been transported months back in time to when Wally was yelling the word ‘starve’ in her face.
Grip crushing the bar in her hand, she rocketed to her feet and whirled around on the man. “I get you’re concerned, Mr. Justice League,” she hissed through clenched teeth, “but I’m perfectly capable of feeding my own son.”
“I didn’t intend to offend you in any way, nor criticize your ability as a parent. Wally is lucky to have you. I only meant that there is no shame in some assistance. Even Barry–”
Mary tossed the bar at the bench beside him, her ribs squeezing her lungs so tight she wasn’t sure she could get in a full breath. “I don’t need your assistance, I don’t need your army food, and I don’t need your pity money. Does everyone on the Justice League try to parent children that aren’t their own? I mean, dear Lord, try to worry about not getting your own child killed.” She spun around to look for her son.
“Hold on, please. This initiative isn’t meant as–”
“Wally!” Her voice carried loud enough that a few teenagers looked in her direction. “Come! We’re leaving.”
As soon as Wally started scrambling to get his helmet off to give back to Robin, Mary started walking from the bench towards the car. Wally caught up by the time she was unlocking the doors.
“Uh, is everything okay?” he asked hesitantly.
“Get in the car.”
He did so without complaint, but asked while she was pulling out, “Did something happen? You know, Rob’s said that Batman’s pretty bad at communicating sometimes, so he probably didn’t mean to offend you or anything–”
“Wally.” Mary clutched the steering wheel tightly and breathed deep, reminding herself it was not Wally she was upset with. “I need some quiet.”
“Right. Okay.”
There was no sound but the radio in the car for five minutes as Mary tried to get herself back under control.
Wally tapped the door a few times as he looked out the window before asking, “Where are we going?”
“To the store. We need groceries, and you can help.”
“Oh. Okay.”
Wally helped pick out what he’d like for lunches, pushed the cart, and kept up easy chatter about school. He seemed a little grumpy to have been pulled away from his friend so fast, but didn’t voice it. Mary thought that was fair. He probably didn’t get to see Robin all that often, even with super speed. Still, she couldn’t bring herself to regret her actions whenever she thought of Batman’s words.
When they got to the till, Wally looked a little perplexed by the amount, and she thought that maybe bringing him along hadn’t been the best idea. She most definitely did not want him feeling any kind of conscious about the food he needed to consume, but he shouldn’t yet have too much of a sense of what groceries should cost and how much Mary got paid anyway.
His mood was better by the time they were unloading everything from the bags into the kitchen.
───
Wally filled and ate his plate of shepherd’s pie twice just as Mary was finishing her own serving.
“Thanks for dinner. It was great, as always.”
“What? Have some more. You hardly ate.” Mary gestured to the half-full stoneware pan on the table.
“I’m full, actually,” Wally said with a smile. “But I’ll help clean up.”
Just as Wally was scooting back his chair, Rudy stood abruptly and scraped the rest of his plate into the trash.
Mary frowned. “Honey, don’t waste.”
“Since when have we cared about wasting a few bites of food in this house?”
He dropped his plate into the sink with a clatter and lumbered to the living room. The sound of the tv soon followed.
When she looked back, Wally had already taken the rest of the shepherd’s pie to the counter and was looking for containers to store it in.
Mary walked over with both their plates and turned on the tap. “What’d you eat today? I can make you a snack later.”
“I’m fine, Mom, really.”
“You’re avoiding my question.”
“A friend treated me to food after school. I’ve eaten enough.”
“Which friend?”
Wally shrugged as he scooped food into a container. “Uh, Speedy.”
“Roy was in town?”
“Yeah.”
Mary hummed, watching Wally as she washed the dishes until he disappeared up to his room.
───
Except it wasn’t a one time thing.
Wally continued to eat less servings at dinner and hardly touched any of the snacks in the pantry or fridge.
One day when he got home from school, she took one of his arms in hand to examine it. “You’ve not been getting skinnier, have you?”
“No,” he asserted. “Last weekend Dr. Snow said I gained three pounds since last month.”
“Did she?”
“You have her number. You can ask her, but I’m offended you don’t believe me.” He grinned.
She couldn’t help but smile back. “Well, it’s no wonder, after Christmas dinner and that feast we had for your birthday.”
“Actually, I think all three pounds are purely birthday cake. You outdid yourself with that one. Have you been holding back?”
“Go get your homework done, mister.” She swatted him lightly on the shoulder, and he laughed as he ran up the stairs.
───
Mary noticed Wally had accidentally left his backpack downstairs one late afternoon, so she decided to grab his lunch bag to empty it for him and make sure no mould was growing in there. The thing probably hadn’t been washed since the start of the school year.
She pulled out the lunch bag, but her hands stuttered to a stop when she spotted the cardboard box at the bottom of his backpack. There was no top, and she clearly saw the rows of silver packaged calorie bars.
“Wally!”
It took little time for him to come skipping down the stairs two at a time. He was getting so tall. He froze when he saw the box in her hands.
“Where did you get these?”
“Uh–”
“Wallace West, you know I don’t want you eating these. Is this why you’ve been having less at dinner?”
“It’s fine, Mom. They’re just extra calories,” he reasoned.
“It’s not fine! I don’t want you to have to rely on these supplements like some army soldier! You’re a growing teenager. We have food in this house. You can eat it.”
“I just thought you wouldn’t have to make as much for dinner or pay–”
“That isn’t something you need to worry about! There’s no extra effort in doubling a recipe size, your dad has a good job, and I take enough shifts. If you’re hungry, Wally, just tell me.”
Wally dropped his head, skinny arms hanging at his sides. “Okay, sorry.”
Mary sighed. “I’m going to go throw these out.”
Wally’s head whipped up. “Wait, no, don’t. Can’t I just give them to Uncle Barry?”
She studied her son for a moment. “Fine. Give them to Barry, and then I don’t want any more of these in my house again.” She handed them over. “I’m putting my trust in you with this, don’t break it again.”
“I won’t. I’m sorry.”
───
Mary went grocery shopping for the fourth time in as many weeks, filling her cart to restock the fridge and pantry. They hardly used the freezer anymore, most things getting eaten too fast, and she wasn’t even sure if there was anything in the deepfreeze.
She sighed at the high triple digits at the till, but inserted her credit card, calculating in her head how much she’d have to pay off at the end of the month.
She’d started bouncing between three different grocers after the employees of her usual one started raising their eyebrows at her frequent and in-bulk visits.
───
It had been much too long since Mary spent some time with her best friend, and her visit with Evangeline had her spirits higher than they’d been in months. She grabbed the mail on her way in through her own front door that evening, hanging her jacket as she looked around for evidence of her family. She could see Rudy on the sofa when she peeked through the doorway from the entrance hall, and Wally must have been in his room.
She took the mail into the kitchen, sighing at the takeout bag on the counter. She knew Rudy could cook. He just hardly seemed to want to get off the couch these days after work. She hoped he at least had gotten enough for Wally’s appetite.
Mary tossed the mail onto the table to throw the bag away, but stopped when she saw that the sole envelope was peculiarly from the city.
Opening it up had her eyebrows rising.
“Rudy,” she called as she stepped over to the living room. “I thought you paid the power bill.” She brandished the paper with the large red [OVERDUE] stamp on it when he glanced over.
“Not yet,” he grunted, taking a swig of his beer can and looking back to the tv.
“Well, are you?” she prompted.
“With what money?” he bit back quickly.
“Money from your paycheque two weeks ago.” She rested her knuckles on her hips, paper crinkling in her fist.
“That was half a month ago! What the hell do you expect me to do about it?”
“Well, I wanted the power bill paid, which oh, coincidentally, came in before your paycheque. Where did that money go?”
“Obviously, I don’t have it.”
“Yeah, I see that. What did you think was more important than electricity?”
“You’re out of your mind, woman.”
“Don’t ‘woman’ me–”
“If you’re making such a big deal out of this, why aren’t you paying it?”
“With what money?” she exclaimed, throwing her hands up.
Rudy scoffed. “Now you know how I feel.”
“No, I don’t. I’ve paid the mortgage, the waste, the phone bills–” She paused counting her fingers to toss a hand towards the tv. “–your cable for that stupid propaganda, and I’ve been putting food on the table. All I asked for was the–”
“This was never a problem before, so don’t lecture me while you’re wasting your own money on–”
“Groceries, Rudy! I’m paying for groceries! You damn well know that expense has gone up.”
“That kid eats way too much. He ought to get his own job if he wants to keep living under this roof–”
“He’s thirteen! And you know that’s not something he can control.”
Rudy stood abruptly. “Well he should! The rest of us–”
“He isn’t like the rest of us!”
“I never asked for that–!”
“He didn’t ask for it either!”
“–for him to be turned into some freak–”
“Don’t you dare talk about our son that way.”
“Get out of the way.” He pushed past, mumbling, “Fuck, woman.”
“Don’t swear at me! Get back here. Rudy, we are not done talking!”
He trudged up the stairs without stopping and shut the bedroom door with a slam.
Mary inhaled through her nose and pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes.
The rumbled bill was on the floor.
After a moment, she scooped it up, marched to the kitchen, and slapped it down onto the table. Throwing open the cupboard with the trash can to toss out the takeout bag, she saw the recycling bin beside it filled with crushed beer cans. Squashing the bag into the trash, she closed the cupboard with more force than needed and braced her elbows on the counter, taking deep breaths.
She tried to recall when one beer every other night turned into two or three or more a day. How much did a case of beer cost now? How many was he going through a month? Enough to equal a power bill? Surely not, that was ludicrous. What was left after water, gas, insurance, the rest it? What else was he spending on?
With a final steadying breath, Mary moved to go upstairs. She could hear music from Wally’s room from the base of the steps, far louder than he usually had it because Rudy hated to hear it while he was watching tv. Nearing the door, she realized with a sickening pang that Wally had been trying to drown out their argument.
She knocked briefly before opening the door. “Wally, honey, did you have enough to eat–”
Wally looked up from his desk with wide eyes and a familiar bar hanging out of his mouth, still half-wrapped in that dull gray packaging.
He tore it out and quickly swallowed, wincing when whatever went down wasn’t well-chewed enough. He rapidly turned down the volume of his music as he stuttered through his words. “Uh– sorry, I’m good– I mean, I promise it was just this one…”
Mary didn’t know what her face was doing, but Wally was still looking at her with wide eyes filled with guilt and—devastatingly—a little fear, half hiding the bar under his desk. Still fresh from her argument with Rudy, she felt something ugly resurface in her chest. So she closed the door with a quick ‘okay’ before she could do something as stupid as yell at him.
She sat on the sofa with her head in her hands until the hour grew late, then she dragged herself to bed where her husband was already asleep.
───
Ten months after Wally almost died and came out of it changed, he started coming home less and less with the excuse of being out with friends.
At first, she thought her increasing arguments with Rudy had been the cause, chasing her own son out of a place that was supposed to be safe.
Then, she started to wonder if he was getting into things, doing stuff he knew they wouldn’t approve of. But he was also Kid Flash. It was more likely he was spending more time out with Barry. But then, why wouldn’t he have just said that?
One evening, as she was cooking dinner for eight even though Wally had texted that he’d be out late, Rudy shouted for her from the living room.
“Get in here!” he called again as she was entering the room.
“I’m already here. What is it?”
He was standing beside the couch, big hands fisted at his sides. As soon as she was in range, he snatched her arm tightly to drag her a foot closer.
“Let go!” she shouted, hand instinctively gripping his wrist.
“He’s in fucking New York!” He gestured wildly with his other hand to the tv.
She didn’t stop trying to tug away as a newscaster was talking over some footage, something about New York City. A shaky and clearly mobile camera focused on some brightly dressed heroes, rather short. Two of them high-fived and– That was Wally.
Kid Flash was stood in a group with Robin and Speedy and a black-haired girl with what looked like a Wonder Woman symbol on her chest. By God, where was Barry? Where were any of their mentors?
“What does that kid think he’s doing?” Rudy ground out, finally letting her go. “That he’s running around in that stupid costume is bad enough, but now he’s off crossing states with those other freaks like he’s in some gang! I should–”
Mary didn’t hear the rest of his tirade as she ran upstairs to find her phone.
Wally had never responded to her question of what time he thought he’d be home. She called him anyway. When there was no answer, she sent a text, then called again, similarly sent to voicemail. Hands slightly shaking, she called Barry.
“Hi, Mary. Is–”
“I thought you were watching him?” she cried.
“What? Hold on–”
“Wally! He’s on the news and in New York. Just Robin and Roy and some girl and he’s thirteen for Christ’s sake!”
“Mary–”
“The deal was that you’d look out for him!”
“Yes,” Barry said, voice calm and even. She felt hysterical. “I knew he was going out with them, but I didn’t know it was in masks. I’ll go find him and talk to him–”
“I want you to send him home.”
“Let me talk to him,” Barry repeated.
───
“You’re grounded,” Mary said as soon as Wally came through the door. She’d had some time to calm down and salvage supper, but fear still gripped her heart firmly.
Wally was frowning as he shut the door and kicked off his shoes. He was dressed in normal clothes, bag slung over his shoulder. “Yeah, I figured,” he grumbled.
The unexpected reaction left her feeling off kilter, and she wondered what Barry had said to him.
“Wallace,” Rudy said lowly as he stalked into the entrance hall.
“Save it,” Wally said, glaring at the wall. “Barry already gave me a lecture.”
“Barry’s not your father, I am, and you’ll look at me when I’m talking to you.”
Wally reluctantly moved his gaze. “Can I just go to my room? I’ll give up my phone or whatever.”
“Yeah, I’ll toss out the phone, and I’ll throw out that costume while I’m at it.”
“What?” Wally exclaimed.
“This ‘superhero’ stuff stops now. You can forget about ever seeing those friends of yours again.”
“That’s not fair! We were just gonna hang out! We didn’t plan to do anything, but we weren’t gonna sit around while people were in trouble either!”
“That’s what the police are for,” Rudy boomed. “Now hand over the bag.”
He grabbed the handle from over Wally’s shoulder, and Wally tried to keep a grip on it. “Stop! You can’t just stop me from being a hero forever!”
“Give me the bag.” Rudy seized Wally’s arm with one hand, fingers wrapping all the way around his bony limb, as he tugged on the bag with the other.
“Dad, wait–” Wally winced, and Mary's heart stuttered.
“Rudy, you're hurting him. Let go,” she demanded.
Rudy released him with a rough shove, and Wally stumbled back into the door.
Mary half-stepped between them, hands hovering towards her son as Rudy scowled then turned around to march up the stairs.
When she looked back, Wally’s eyes were wide, forehead pinched and mouth parted.
“Wally–” she started.
His gaze darted to hers, then with a crackle she hardly registered, her son was gone and the front door left open. Sparks of yellow faded down the street.
───
Mary was curled up on the armchair closest to the entrance hall, just as she had been every other night the past week.
Iris had messaged her when Wally eventually showed up at their house after he’d run that night, and she continued to send Mary updates every day since.
Still, Mary waited until ten each night before trudging up to the bedroom where Rudy had been isolating himself since his outburst. She thought she would still be cross with him if he hadn't been so miserable over the last week.
She continued to sit in the dark, eyes glazing over the slightly discoloured paint beside the tv playing the muted ‘Cape Watch' channel Rudy hated, hardly heeding the warm fog slowly falling over her awareness.
She came to with a jolt and the sound of the front door clicking shut.
She stumbled to her feet, blood rushing too quickly from her muddled head. “Wally?”
The hall light flicked on, and Wally’s silhouette appeared in the doorway. “Mom?” He paused there, shadowed features indiscernible in the backlight. “Did you fall asleep here?”
Her breath escaped her lungs, and she crossed the distance to gather Wally in a hug. He pressed in, wrapping his arms around her ribs. His hair didn’t smell like his usual shampoo.
“Sorry for running,” he mumbled into her shoulder.
“Oh, honey.” She pet his hair and squeezed him tighter. “I'm just glad your safe.”
He ducked his head further. “And sorry for… going out in masks with the Titans without telling anyone.”
Titans? “We can talk about it later—tomorrow, okay, hun? Did you run all the way here? Are you hungry? Let me make something before you go to bed.” She drew back reluctantly, holding him by the shoulders to get a look at him.
He shook his head, looking as if he’d had to drag the world behind him on his way back. “You should get to sleep too. I didn’t mean to wake you.” He shrugged. “Besides, I’m tired. I’ll just eat a bar and go to bed.” His eyes grew a little wide as he looked up to meet hers. “Er– Uh,” he stuttered.
Mary realized her grip had tightened a little, and she quickly loosened it and smoothed her palms down Wally’s arms. She inhaled, patted his arms once, then took a step back. “Okay. Goodnight, Wally.”
Wally pursed his lips. “You’re…” He glanced to the side, then back. “Yeah. Night, Mom.”
He retreated quietly up the steps.
Mary leaned against the wall, arms hugged tightly around her chest, and strained her ears for every sound of Wally getting ready for bed, the creaks of shifting weight, the muffled thumps of his bag dropping and clothes being tossed against his hamper, and indistinct rustles until the house fell silent. He hadn’t left his room to brush his teeth by the time the faint light disappeared from the upstairs hallway, leaving only the dim orange entrance bulb and the shifting colours of the muted tv swaying on the pale painted walls.
Another breath, and she pushed off the wall. She padded into the dark kitchen and poured herself a glass of water from the faucet. She held it hovering over the sink, knuckles pale around the cool surface to keep her hands from shaking.
Another breath, shallower, her mind feeling foggy. Maybe it was all the stress. Her boys caused her so much stress. Another breath.
At a sharp clatter, she jolted. The glass was sideways in the sink, a crack stretching from the rim down to the middle, and the drain was gurgling as it drank down the spilt water. She hadn’t even felt it leave her hands.
The glass went into the bin, and she dragged a sluggish hand down her face, at least no longer trembling, then hauled herself up to her room.
Rudy stirred when she slipped into bed.
“Wally’s home,” she whispered.
Rudy acknowledged her sleepily, maybe a little grumpily. Mary fell into sleep easily.
───
Wally spent half his time at Iris and Barry’s, the couple now in a slightly bigger house and newly engaged.
Which was fine. Mary missed her son, but it was probably better he wasn’t around for most of the arguments, and she was spending less on groceries.
Mary pinched her thumb at the intrusive thought because that shouldn’t matter.
Regardless, Rudy kept missing bills and Mary was picking up more shifts at the older women’s clothing store, almost as many hours as a full-time worker but without the other perks. So the money went somewhere. Where Rudy’s went, she still didn’t know. She had bought a case of beer on her way home one day just to see the price, and while the brand wasn’t the cheapest, it really shouldn’t have been making the dents in cash it had seemed to. But the drinks put Rudy in a good mood. At least until the case emptied again.
Sometimes, Rudy went out in the evenings without so much as a word, though he was always back by the time she woke in the mornings. Those nights, more often than not, Mary found herself losing time.
It was a strange sensation, but she didn’t tend to let her thoughts linger on the fact too long. The episodes bothered her, she knew, but not enough to avoid the things seeming to trigger them.
It didn’t matter anyway. It seemed like she hardly saw her son and husband anymore.
───
With the twist of a key, she opened the front door and heard conversation abruptly cut off.
“Rudy?” she called as she took off her fall scarf and sweater to hang on the wall hooks. There were a few extra pairs of shiny, black shoes on the door mat.
There was no answer, but she peeked in through the doorway to the living room and startled at the sight of three large men in dark coats beside Rudy.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize we had company.”
“I thought you were at work,” Rudy said gruffly.
“Yes, but my shift ended. It’s Wednesday. I’m only there for the morning.” Which wasn’t true. Her manager had actually relieved her of the afternoon after she had zoned out for apparently twenty minutes in a corner of the store, but she didn’t expect Rudy to actually keep track of her changing schedule. However, he, she knew, did have work today, just like every other week day, but she wasn’t about to say that with company present. “Can I get you gentlemen anything? Something to drink?”
“No,” Rudy answered for them. “They were just leaving.”
“Right.” She hesitated, then pretended to go into the kitchen, though she lingered just on the edge of the hall. She listened for words in their hushed conversation, and only picked up a few.
When the men put on their shoes to leave, one caught sight of an old family portrait and wrinkled his nose.
As soon as the door closed behind the last of them, Mary confronted her husband. “Rudolph, just what in God’s name are you getting into?”
“They’re just work friends.”
“Last I checked, your coworkers don’t all dress in black trench coats.”
“Wally’s still fraternizing with that gang of costumed children, and you’re getting on my case for coats? You work at a clothing store!”
“Don’t call his friends a gang.”
“That’s what they are! A bunch of immature kids getting into trouble–”
“Would you rather him be getting into drugs?”
“Why is that something I have to choose?”
“At least he wants to help people, and he’s not getting drunk every night–”
“Don’t you dare turn this on me–”
“This is about you! And what secrets you’re keeping behind my back!”
“You’re out of your mind.”
“I’m not stupid. What were you all whispering about?”
“You’re being fucking paranoid.”
“I’m not paranoid! I want to know where all your money’s going–”
“Christ, it’s not my problem you can’t handle me having friends just ‘cause you don’t have any.”
“I’ve been busy!”
“So have I!”
“Yeah, clearly. What are you doing while I’m taking all these extra shifts to pay your half of the bills.”
“What are you on about?”
“The bills! That you’re not paying!”
“Fucking crazy.”
“My Lord, you’re not even listening!”
“I don’t have to listen to this.”
“Yes, you do. Where’s that money going, Rudy?”
“I’m paying for this fucking family! Where else?”
“Where’s the proof of that? I’m the one paying the bills. I don’t see any groceries magically popping up.”
“You said it yourself, that kid eats for a whole sports team.”
“He’s hardly even here anymore!” Mary practically screamed. “His aunt and uncle are raising him because we can’t get it together! When was the last time you even spent time with him?”
“And what have you been doing to get that boy under control?” Rudy shouted back.
“He’s your son too!”
He bared his teeth. “I didn’t raise a mutant!”
Mary froze.
She hardly believed hearing that ugly, derogatory term come from Rudy’s mouth—directed towards Wally.
“What is wrong with you?” she whispered.
Rudy shoved past her, put his shoes on, and slammed the front door behind him without even his coat.
───
Rudy didn’t come home that night, nor was he back when she returned from her shift the next day. When she called his boss, he told her that Rudy had apparently phoned in sick yesterday.
She looked through his drawer on his side of the bed, looking for something that might explain his behaviour, not justify it, but just… let her know how this had happened. Rudy had never been a fan of superheroes, but there hadn’t been any metahuman animosity until Wally had come home that morning, the meta-gene they hadn’t known he carried suddenly activated.
She thought of all the channels Rudy watched on the tv, the anti-meta rallies and propaganda. Maybe there had been animosity, but she just hadn’t noticed it until it was her own son that was at risk.
She found nothing of physical evidence in the house. Only a beer case and empty cans, even a bottle of whiskey in the bathroom cupboard, a brand she didn’t recognize.
She stood in the centre of her bedroom, feeling lost, unsure of when exactly her family fell apart. She didn’t think it was the morning Wally came home. She wasn’t sure there was an exact moment. She didn’t want to believe anything had gone wrong at all.
They didn’t go to church anymore. She hadn’t even curled her hair in months, now straight and staticky and far past her shoulders from being so long neglected a haircut. The book on her nightstand hadn’t been touched in even longer. She wondered when her hobbies had stopped, and when she had last seen Evangeline. She found she didn’t much miss her friend.
But she terribly missed her son.
She found herself sitting on the sofa again, in the silent and slowly darkening room, staring into space like she expected the stains in the paint to move.
When she went back up to bed that night, unsure of how long ago the sun had set, Rudy was asleep in bed. She had been by the door all evening and hadn’t heard a thing.
She didn’t wake him. She crawled under the sheets and closed her eyes.
In the morning, Rudy was gone, but she wasn’t entirely sure she had fallen asleep at all.
───
A phone buzzing on the coffee table startled Mary back into herself. Her phone. She had been sitting in the silent living room again after work. It was probably long past dinner. It was the weekend, so Rudy must have surely eaten something. Though, Mary couldn’t quite remember if she had eaten anything herself since breakfast.
She saw Iris’ name on her phone screen and answered with a suddenly pounding heart.
“Iris?”
“Hi, Mary. I’m just checking in on you. It didn’t seem like you’d read your messages since yesterday, so I didn’t know if you were checking your phone.”
“Oh. Sorry, I guess I wasn’t. Is everything okay? How’s Wally?”
“Wally’s good. He was thinking about going home today, but if you’re sick, I wouldn’t want you to be stressing or working yourself too hard.”
Mary’s mind felt slow to catch up. “Sick?”
“Yeah, Rudy told me you weren’t feeling well?”
Rudy had told his sister that Mary was sick. Why? “No, no. I’m feeling fine. If Wally wants to come home– I’d love to see him.” She hated how desperate she sounded.
Iris’ soft voice held no judgment. “Okay. I’ll let him know you’re feeling better. Don’t push yourself too much though.”
Mary stared at the black tv screen and the stains behind it. “Thank you, Iris,” she said quietly.
“You don’t need to thank me, but you’re more than welcome.”
───
Wally was quieter. He didn’t ask where his father was, but he gave Mary those precious freckled smiles when she served him his favourite meals. He also asked after her own health, which made sense if he thought she had been sick, but his worried glances didn’t stop even after her assurances. The sentiment was backwards. She was his mother.
“And you’re eating okay?” Wally asked when she gave him a snack and offered to watch a movie.
“Who’s the parent here?” she teased. “I should be asking you that. There’re two speedsters in that house.”
Wally had been staying at Iris and Barry’s for extended periods of time now. Mary hadn’t said anything against it, no matter how much she wanted to.
“We’re good,” he said. “The JL has a program built in that helps out members with stuff like that.”
Mary wrinkled her brow. “You’re not solely eating those bars, are you?”
“No, no,” he rushed to assure. “Help with like groceries and stuff, and even meal plans. It’s not just for Barry and I. Even Hal– uh, Green Lantern uses it, since he’s off-world all the time, he can’t keep a lot of food in his house, and he misses a lot of time at work. It helps everyone.”
“Oh, okay.”
“Yeah.”
They trailed off, and Mary led him into the living room so they could put on something to watch. She quickly exited out of the Cape Watch channel and looked for movies that were streaming instead.
Wally was staring, and eventually asked. “So uh, what have you been doing?”
“Nothing much. What’s with all these questions?” She worried her words came out too defensive when Wally looked away.
“I just… want to make sure you’re doing okay. You look tired.”
“Oh, honey.” Mary put down the remote and brushed a hand through his healthy orange waves. “Thank you for worrying, but you don’t need to. I’ve just missed you, is all.”
“Oh.” Wally ducked his head. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize.” She drew him into a hug. He slumped into it. “I just want you to be happy, okay? As long as you’re happy, I’m happy.”
“I’ll uh, try to be home more,” he murmured.
She continued to run her fingers through his hair, willing them not to shake. “I would love that. As long as you’re happy.”
───
Wally was fourteen and about to graduate middle school. Mary was doing better, especially when Wally was home.
But too often he’d stay a week, even two, with his aunt and uncle, and he never went more than a week without seeing them except when they had their honeymoon.
It was those long weeks without her son there to ground her in some purpose that it got worse again.
‘It’. She didn’t like to name it. As long as she didn’t, it never quite felt real.
She didn’t know when the living room had become her spot instead of Rudy’s, but she spent most evenings there when the house was empty of her teenager, letting the fog take her away.
One afternoon, sound filtered back into her ears after her head had faded into the familiar paint, her husband’s voice coming from the kitchen.
It was a couple days after Wally had had Robin, Roy, and Garth over for a sleepover. Garth was a bit of a strange kid, but Mary had been elated to host them, and she might have hovered a little too much, but from all the laughter, they all seemed to have had a good time.
But now Wally was back in Central, or maybe in New York with his Titans friends. She should remember, but she just couldn’t seem to recall.
Rudy seemed to be talking on the phone with someone in the kitchen.
Mary leaned further back in the armchair and listened. Her head was still foggy, and she picked up some anxious words about time and when something was going to happen. Eventually, her ears cleared up enough to hear him say,
“Yeah, she’s home, but she’s completely checked out. She won’t even notice if I leave.” He paused. “I already told you, she’s sick in the head or something. No, she doesn’t need a hospital. I thought you didn’t want me to draw any attention?”
‘Sick in the head.’ Maybe she was. But who was he to be telling some random person this? Who was implying she needed some shrink’s help? And why was he trying to go unnoticed?
“The kid’s at school. He’ll be going back to my sister’s house afterwards.”
Even Rudy knew that. Why hadn’t she known that?
“No, not yet. A week, I said. He’ll be back here by then.”
Then the talking stopped, and Mary’s head started spinning.
After a couple minutes, Rudy passed by in the entrance hall.
Mary urged her voice to come out as more than a whisper. “Who were you talking to?”
“No one. Don’t worry about it.” He paused and looked at her through the doorway. She still hadn’t moved from leaning back in the armchair. “What’d you hear?”
“Nothing,” she said.
He stared for a moment, then left the house.
───
Mary got sent home from work early three days in a row. At first, her manager had asked if everything was okay, but after the third day when she had an outburst at a customer for talking about ‘mutants’, her boss was threatening to fire her if she didn’t get her ‘manic behaviour’ under control.
───
The day before Wally would be coming back, Mary felt a bit more like herself again. She was ashamed for her outburst, and could hardly believe she would behave like that at all. She didn’t work that day, but spent most of it cleaning. Rudy left the house four separate times. She’d counted. Each time he was gone for an hour and a half. She tried casually to ask him where he’d been, what he was up to, and each time she was ignored.
Still, she didn’t zone out once until she went to bed early in the evening.
───
It was the following morning, six days after the first time, that she overheard Rudy on the phone again. She’d gotten up before her alarm, certain she hadn’t actually slept again, and Rudy was already out of bed.
She stood at the top of the stairs in her nightgown when she heard Rudy’s voice coming from the kitchen, talking about Wally again. It was hard to believe Rudy was feeling any kind of anticipation for their son coming home.
“Yeah. Mary’s back to herself, so he’ll be on his way here this afternoon.” He paused. “Yes, away from his uncle. That’s the plan.”
Mary’s feet felt as frozen as her blood, his words painting a more coherent picture than they did a week ago.
“They probably won’t suspect anything for at least a few days. That’ll be enough time for you, won’t it?”
Mary couldn’t breathe. She staggered back on numb feet. Rudy didn’t actually care when Wally was home, hadn’t cared for months. Not since he’d yelled the word ‘mutant’. Not since the men in black trench coats.
“Don’t worry,” Rudy’s fading voice said. “She’ll just assume he ran back to them when he doesn’t come home then go back into her head.”
Why did he want Wally away from his uncle? Enough time for what? Why wouldn’t Wally be coming home?
She was shaking from head to toe when she stumbled back into the bedroom.
She held her phone above the bed, scared she’d drop it with how horribly she couldn’t control her limbs.
It took her almost a full minute to type out the text to Wally. ‘Don’t come home today.’
Then, with stuttering breaths she found the second most recent number in her phone and dialed.
“Morning, Mary. How are you?”
“Iris, I–” She swallowed. Her chest was so impossibly tight that her heart throbbed painfully. With numb limbs and the sharp pain in her chest, she wasn’t entirely sure she wasn’t having a heart attack.
“Is something wrong?” Iris asked. “Wally’s just left for school.”
“He can’t come home,” Mary gasped out.
“What?”
“You need to pick him up. Or Barry– the Flash. The Flash needs to pick him up.”
“Okay. Okay, Mary. Take a deep breath. What’s going on?”
“I don’t know, he just can’t come home. They don’t want his uncle there–”
“Who doesn’t want Barry there?”
“I don’t know,” she whispered-yelled. “Rudy’s been strange and talking to people and telling them Wally’s schedule. He– he said Wally won’t make it home today–”
“Hold on, what–”
“Who are you talking to?” Rudy demanded.
Mary whipped around, phone no longer pressed to her ear. In a kind of whiplash she hadn’t felt in two years, her fear warped into a coiled, desperate anger. “What have you been doing? Why were you saying Wally won’t come home today?”
“Hand over the phone,” he ordered, ignoring her, and lunged forward as he tried to swipe it from her hand.
She stumbled back, legs knocking into the mattress and sending her down onto it. “No!” she yelled. “Who have you been talking to? What do they want with my son?”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. Give me the phone!”
She twisted away, but she was still on the bed. Rudy was reaching past her for it. “Get off me!”
“This is for his own good!”
“What are you talking about?”
He wrenched her phone from her grip and scowled when he saw his sister’s name. Mary tried to grab for it, Iris’ indiscernible words still coming through the speaker, but then Rudy hung up.
Mary shoved at his chest as he stood back up. “What are you doing? Why are you doing this?”
“I’m getting my son back,” he snarled.
“He’s not your son! He’s mine! You crazy bastard, what were you going to do with Wally?” She felt on the verge of tears, hysterical with the thought that this couldn’t possibly be real.
“That mutant virus took my son from me, but the Manhunters will fix him.”
“The Martian? You’re insane!”
“Not any of those fucking heroes,” Rudy spat. Mary’s phone started buzzing. Rudy turned it off and threw it across the room. It clattered against the floor. “The Manhunters will fix him. All the money I gave them, it was all to help Wally.”
“‘Fix him’?” she repeated incredulously. “He’s not broken! He’s a human being! Did you join a cult?”
A voice called from downstairs. “Mary?” Barry. It was Barry.
Rudy cursed and marched out of the bedroom. Mary got to her feet and stumbled after him, fear and anger still mingling in her chest, her heart and lungs feeling like they might burst behind her ribcage.
“Get out of my house, Allen,” Rudy said, stomping down the steps.
“Iris said–”
“Get out of my house!” he bellowed. “And stay away from my son!”
Mary ran down and yanked on his arm so he was facing her instead. “No, you need to stay away from my son.”
“For God’s sake, woman, they’re going to help him!”
“No, they’re going to kidnap him!” she screamed.
“Mary, take a few steps back with me,” Barry started.
“Get your fucking hands off my wife,” Rudy growled. “First my sister, then you started corrupting both her and my son. You’re just another one of those god damned mutants.”
Barry’s eyes blew wide.
“The Manhunters will get rid of that virus in him, and I’ll have my son back.”
“The Manhunters?” Barry stepped closer, palms raised. “Rudolph, the Manhunters are robots.”
“I told you to get out. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I do. The Green Lantern Corps have fought them dozens of times. They’ve massacred thousands of people on different planets. Trust me, whatever they’ve told you, they don’t want to help you or Wally.”
“You think I’m just going to believe you? You did this to my son.”
“Please, Rudolph–”
“What’s going on?”
They all turned their heads to Wally, standing wide-eyed in the doorway.
Mary’s lungs squeezed. She’d told him not to come home.
Rudy cursed and pulled out his phone. Barry tried to talk him down.
Mary only had eyes for her son. “Wally, I need you to go to your aunt’s,” she pleaded.
“No,” he said, trying for confidence but looking scared as his gaze darted between her and his father and Barry. “What’s going on here?”
“I said go! Just listen to me, okay?”
“No,” Rudy interjected, phone dialing. “Don’t you go anywhere.”
“They’re bad news,” Barry continued.
Mary stepped forward to force Wally out the door if she had to, but Rudy gripped her arm, roughly pulling her back.
“Rudolph, stop,” Barry ordered.
“Mom, what’s going on?”
“The kid’s here,” Rudy said into his phone before Barry could take it from him.
Mary opened her mouth to beg Wally to run again, but in a blink, both Wally and Barry were gone, orange lightning crackling around them.
“Damnit!” His phone missing from his hand, Rudy let her go to punch the wall, leaving a dent in the drywall.
Mary stumbled back, butt landing on one of the steps.
“This is your fault!” Rudy yelled, rounding on her, but Mary couldn’t look away from the open door.
Her arm ached, and it felt a little like that first night, when Rudy had put his hand on their son and Wally ran away. Why hadn’t she stopped this then? Rudy clearly hadn’t been doing well, wasn’t taking Wally’s change well. She should have done something.
“Oh, great. Get out of your fucking head, Emmaline. I was going to get him help, and now that bastard has taken Wally who knows where.”
This was her fault. She’d let Rudy spiral, let her son pull away, and let herself fall into her own head instead of helping them.
She just wanted to take care of her baby. But she wasn’t even capable of that. Her son was gone again in a crackle of lightning because she couldn’t hold their family together.
Barry was in front of her, with Rudy somehow gone. Barry was speaking to her, crouched low so they were eye level. She glanced down to see he was rubbing circles into the backs of her hands.
“Hey,” he said softly, “can you hear me now?”
She looked back up. “Where’s Wally?”
“He’s with Batman and Robin. They won’t let anyone touch him while the rest of the League searches for the Manhunters.”
She glanced around her front entrance, and Barry drew her gaze back.
“I’ve taken Rudy to the Justice Hall. The Manhunters fed him a lot of lies. The League is going to get him some help.” He squeezed her hands. “I want to get you some help too, okay?
She wanted to shake her head. Instead, she whispered, “I’m not good for Wally.”
Barry’s eyebrows drew together. “Hey now, that’s not true.”
“I can’t take care of him.”
He squeezed her hands again. “You can. I promise, you can. We’re just going to get you some help, okay, Mary?”
“I shouldn’t need help to take care of my son,” she said, throat burning and voice tight.
“Everyone needs support. There’s nothing wrong with a little bit of help.”
She pulled one hand away to wipe at her nose. “Batman said the same thing.”
Barry smiled. “Yeah? He’s right. We all need a little support sometimes.”
“He also said you’re one of the best men he knows.”
Barry blinked.
Mary continued, “You can– You’re able to take care of him.” Her hands were shaking again.
Barry’s face fell. “Mary–”
“I’m sorry, I can’t. I tried, and I can’t. I just wanted to take care of him. Please, Barry.” Her eyes stung, and she was sure she was crying. “Look after Wally. Take care of my baby. Please–”
“Hey, it’s gonna be okay.”
“I’m sorry, I know he’s not your responsibility, but he loves you guys so much, and I wasn’t– I couldn’t make him happy.”
“Mary, he loves you. He loves you so much. He came here for you.” He tried to steady her hands. “And I will always look after Wally. You never have to ask me. But you don’t need to give that up either. You’ll feel better when you’re back on your feet, okay?”
Her throat was closing up. Barry was blurry in front of her. “Okay,” she gasped out.
“Okay,” Barry repeated. “Let’s stand up now. Is it alright if I run you somewhere?”
“I don’t–” She was shaky on her feet. She didn’t want to go anywhere. She wanted to see Wally. She so desperately wanted to know he was safe.
“That’s okay. We can drive if you’d prefer.”
She nodded.
“Then we’ll drive,” he said, “take it slow.”
“Wally hates slow,” she said.
“I know.”