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chemistryinmotion( sequel to: i'm running and screaming / i feel like a hero and you are my heroine )
A week. A whole week. To a normal person, that might not be all that long, or maybe sometimes it is long when life catches up to them—but for Wally West, a week feels like an eternity. An eternity in which he hasn't heard from his girlfriend once. It's like she's completely disappeared—won't answer his calls, texts, nothing. The only option left is to pay her a personal visit, but Fawcett City isn't exactly close (unless you happen to be a speedster)—but even with his speedy recovery, Barry still insisted on keeping tabs on him to make sure he didn't overexert himself. Plus his parents were practically keeping him under lock and key and forbidding him to go out except for school or school-related functions. Their son had got himself shot, after all, and they certainly didn't want him involved in anything remotely dangerous ever again. So, of course, Kid Flash was taking a little hiatus (as much as Robin tried to convince him otherwise).
But it's been a week, and he's starting to get worried, so he dons his (replacement) uniform, stuffs a change of clothes in his backpack, and sets off for Fawcett City. If anything horrible happens, he'll let Barry say "I told you so," but for now he's feeling perfectly fine—incredible—and definitely up for a good run. It's been at least a month since he's run this fast, and the rush makes him feel alive—he'd almost forgotten what it felt like, what with being cooped up and having to sneak out for short runs in the dead of night, keeping his speed low enough to not alert the heart monitor watch Barry'd forced him to start wearing, just in case. A totally unnecessary precaution, but his uncle refused to back down because he felt responsible for this whole thing and the watch would only serve to reduce the chances of it happening again. So, naturally, Wally ditched it—i.e., convinced Conner to wear it—for this run.
And by the time he's close to Midori's house, he's feeling better than ever and ready to tackle the mystery of Midori's lack of communication. He quickly changes in a nearby gas station bathroom and then inconspicuously shows up at Midori's front door (my, that was a strange gust of wind). He swallows, suddenly feeling very nervous, and knocks.
A week. A whole week. To a normal person, that might not be all that long, or maybe sometimes it is long when life catches up to them—but for Wally West, a week feels like an eternity. An eternity in which he hasn't heard from his girlfriend once. It's like she's completely disappeared—won't answer his calls, texts, nothing. The only option left is to pay her a personal visit, but Fawcett City isn't exactly close (unless you happen to be a speedster)—but even with his speedy recovery, Barry still insisted on keeping tabs on him to make sure he didn't overexert himself. Plus his parents were practically keeping him under lock and key and forbidding him to go out except for school or school-related functions. Their son had got himself shot, after all, and they certainly didn't want him involved in anything remotely dangerous ever again. So, of course, Kid Flash was taking a little hiatus (as much as Robin tried to convince him otherwise).
But it's been a week, and he's starting to get worried, so he dons his (replacement) uniform, stuffs a change of clothes in his backpack, and sets off for Fawcett City. If anything horrible happens, he'll let Barry say "I told you so," but for now he's feeling perfectly fine—incredible—and definitely up for a good run. It's been at least a month since he's run this fast, and the rush makes him feel alive—he'd almost forgotten what it felt like, what with being cooped up and having to sneak out for short runs in the dead of night, keeping his speed low enough to not alert the heart monitor watch Barry'd forced him to start wearing, just in case. A totally unnecessary precaution, but his uncle refused to back down because he felt responsible for this whole thing and the watch would only serve to reduce the chances of it happening again. So, naturally, Wally ditched it—i.e., convinced Conner to wear it—for this run.
And by the time he's close to Midori's house, he's feeling better than ever and ready to tackle the mystery of Midori's lack of communication. He quickly changes in a nearby gas station bathroom and then inconspicuously shows up at Midori's front door (my, that was a strange gust of wind). He swallows, suddenly feeling very nervous, and knocks.
