Partnerproject between Adoglover5 and me.

Speed: Also I am incredible sorry for the long wait for updates. I had seminar last week and all in all didn't quite finish as much as I wanted to. Let's say it's kind of a christmas break, I will try hard to write some new chaps soon! Until then - enjoy~

#1 Always Late

"Staaaarving!" Wally called out and dug his fist into his pockets.

"Aaand freezing! Man, Uncle Barry is being late again! Here I have a day off from the team and he's late!" the speedster complained and bounced on his heels. He wanted to go eating with Barry, as they haven't done that in ages.

Would it really kill the Scarlet Speedster not to be late, at least once in his life?

On the other side of Central City, Barry Allen closed a file of a murder case he had just solved the case using good old fashion science –the best way to catch a murderer- in Barry's opinion.

Lazily, Barry leaned back in his chair and propped his feet on his desk. Today had been a great day, no missions; none of the Rogues were out causing mayhem, and he finished this case, and to conclude the end of the day he was going to get dinner with his nephew.

Reach to his side, where his fully stocked mini fridge in his office was, he grabbed an can a soda and popped it open. As he took a sip he glanced at the clock.

The soda was spit out of his mouth, and he nearly fell out of his chair, "Crap, crap, crap!" he quickly got to his feet gathering everything he needed to turn into his boss about the case, his keys and his jacket.

He was already over an hour late, "Wally is going to kill me!"

Wally was definitely going to kill him. He had tried calling Uncle Barry various times now, and completely spammed his mailbox. Now he tried it again.

"Barryyyy come on, I'm staarviing!" he complained in a very pronounced whiny voice, into the phone. "You know I hate it when you're late, hurry up!" with that he hung up again, and then decided to text a complaining message to his Aunt Iris.

'He's late...Again…'

It wasn't long before he got a response, he hoped it was Barry, but it was Aunt Iris instead, opening the message he wrinkled his nose, 'I feel ya, Wally! ;D'

Barry hated driving, god he couldn't even begin to fathom how much he despised automobiles. They were slow, cost a fortune, they break down, and people didn't know how to drive them. It didn't matter how long they had been driving for.

The only reason he had a car was to keep a low profile.

He lived far from the CCPD, running there everyday would be highly unbelievable, taxis feel more like rollercoaster, and he feels like he will puke, Central City cab drivers were insane, and finally Barry would never take a bus, not since the incident that involved Trickster and his vomit gun.

So he was stuck with a car.

Currently, said car was sitting, in rush hour traffic, with a wreak to top it all off, so the street was more of parking lot then a road.

Groaning in frustration, he flipped open his phone, "Crap!" Wally had utter and completely spammed his phone, 23 voicemails, and over 40 text messages. He was never going to live this down.

Hesitantly, he clicked his phone and dialed his voicemail, he listened to very single voicemail, each Wally's whine was more pronounced then the last, then finally; 'Barryyyy come on, I'm starrrving! You know I hate it when you're late. Hurry up!'

Barry snapped his phone shut and slammed on his horn, earning him many middle finger and yells from other drivers, "I'm hurrying."

Wally continued spamming his uncle's phone, that's what he get for always being late for everything.

'Idiot, fastest man alive, you promise! Dx'

Wally was the ultimate master in sounding reproachful for next to nothing. Even with that smiley.

'You will SO have to pay for our dinner, and I'll eat half the restaurant!'

Wally crossed his arms and sighed, before sinking onto the freezing cold bench at the bus stop. Rubbing his arms to warm himself her slouched deeper into the bench.

He was starting to get worried. Why didn't Barry at least call?

This was taking forever, he hadn't moved 3 inches in 20 minutes. He felt like a snail passed him, a slow little snail passed the fastest man alive. What exactly was the cop directing traffic doing?

Barry slumped forward, his forehead landing ungracefully on the horn, letting out a long annoying beeeeeeeeep.

Over the horn, Barry could hear people yelling and cussing out their windows. Slowly lifting his head from the steering wheel he turned his attention to his phone, seeing all the new spam from his favorite nephew.

He flipped the phone open and dialed Wally's cell number. He cursed when it went to voicemail, "Great, now he's ignoring me!"

He quickly sent a text, in hopes of getting a response.

'I'm on my way, stand still traffic. I'll be there soon! Promise!'

Barry hoped by the time he did through this parking lot traffic, Wally would still be there.

'Bleh' was the simple response to his uncle's text message. And Yes Wally did spend 19cents on a message like that.

He would wait for Barry though. He would always wait for his uncle.

But he was really hungry, no scratch that famished. He hadn't eaten anything since breakfast. He felt like his stomach was seriously about ready to eat him from the inside out.

He got up from the cold bus stop bench and looked around, only to discover a Dunkin Dounts just across the street. The canary speedster grinned.


Wally didn't look left or right, upon crossing the street. He never did, not even he was little.

He would regret it.

He pulled out his cell phone to text his uncle he was getting an 'appetizer' from Dunkin Dounts, but instead he saw that he was calling. He sighed and answered the call.

"Why didn't you just run? I will never understand why you have a car!" he complained. He froze in mind-step hearing a loud horn. Slowly moving his head he stared at the car that was rushing towards him. Too scared to move, the phone still pressed against his ear.

Barry smiled when his nephew answer his call, he didn't even say as so much as a hello, before Wally started his rant, "Why didn't you just run? I will never understand why you have a car!"

The older rolled his head back, hitting it hard against his headrest, and opened his mouth to say something, but all he heard was a loud crash, silvering glass and the sound of bones breaking.

Instantly Barry straightened in his seat, "Wally? Wally!" looking at his phone, the call had ended.

He quickly called his nephew to make sure he was okay, but it went straight to his voicemail.

Several called failed to get through. Then, finally finally, the call was answered after what felt like ages. But he could only hear Wally yell his superhero identity and his heart stopped beating. A rustling sound as if someone picked up the phone. His heart dropped to his knees when he heard the voice "He doesn't need to talk to uncle Barry, He's here with Uncle J." Then another crush as the phone hit the concrete and shattered. Gasping, he stared at his cellphone screen that showed Iris and Wally at a family picnic.

When the stand still traffic had finally lightened up Barry could drive on quickly, basically breaking every speed limit posted, to get to where he was to meet his nephew for dinner.

Upon his arrival at the meeting spot, all he found were some glass shards, on the ground, a radiant red tote sack that had the Flash symbol on it, probably filled with warm civvies, and his crushed cell phone lying next to it. Undoubtedly Wally's. But….his nephew was nowhere to be seen.

And neither was the car.

Barry ran his hand through his hair.

No Car.

No nephew.

Hit, kidnap, and run.

Barry curled his hands into tight fist. There was no doubt that Wally was hurt from the bastard that hit him with a car! Then it hit him.

Maybe they took him to the hospital. Maybe people had enough courage to actually help Wally and dislodged the Joker. God he hoped he was right.

Parking the car on the street - he was not sitting in traffic again, his nephew needed him - he quickly changed in the famed Central City Scarlet Speedster, and super-sped to the nearest hospital.

Which happened to be Central Hospital.

Once inside, there seemed to a nurse was expecting him, "Ah Flash," for a moment the speedster was full of hope, but it was destroyed in the same second the nurse handed him a playing card.

A playing card showing a Joker.

Didn't she know anything; a man comes in and gave her a card with a Joker on it. Did it not click in her brain? Did she not watch the news about all the things in Gotham, with the Joker and his signature?

It didn't matter, the clown was here, and he didn't have time to think of how or why.

The insane circus reject was in Central, and he already made the biggest mistake of messing with Wally.

He already knew that Wally was hurt, the sound of the crash and bones breaking still echoed in the back of his mind. If that clown hurt Kid anymore, the speedster would make sure that the clown would be begging on his knees to face Batman instead.

Flash reached up and pressed the com-link in his ear, "Bats, what the hell is Joker doing in Central? And what does he want from MY nephew?"

Batman looked up from the coffee he was having with John Stewart in the Watchtowers cafeteria and gently touched the plug in his head.

"What are you talking about, Flash?" he asked with usual solemn voice.