Reset! - Chapter Six

[randomality]

Summary: Faced with being shipped out to Denver to live with Jay Garrick after the disappearance of Max Mercury, Bart argues to remain in Manchester with Helen. Impulse begins to search for ways to save Max on his own and reaches out to friends and allies. AU.

Disclaimer: DC owns the DCU. Impulse created by Mark Waid and Mike Wieringo.

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Reset! - Chapter Six: Bad Company

The truck trundled to a stop and Mama turned to her daughter and passenger. "I'm gonna refuel. Go get some dinner."

Still casually dressed in her jeans and low cut shirt, White Lightning nodded. "Got it, Mama. C'mon, spitfire. You're gonna help me out." From behind the sleeper cab, she brought out her motorcycle. She handed Bart her spare helmet before putting on her own. Soon, they were both cruising down the roads of Kansas City.

They stopped at a twenty-four hour minimart in a worn-out part of town. After stowing the helmets in the locking saddlebags, they entered the store and White Lightning handed a shopping basket to Bart. "Here, hold on to this for me, sweetie."

He followed her around isles, bored out of his mind and wondering if he could just ditch her and go somewhere more exciting. No! He couldn't do that! He had to keep an eye on her and make sure that she didn't go on another crime spree. When White Lightning stopped by the refrigerated displays near the closed deli, she paused and watched two young men with their hoods up enter the store. Her lips tightened in a slight frown, but she continued to go about her business. She picked a few premade sandwiches wrapped in plastic and dumped them into the basket.

When they approached the cashier's counter, the men were already there to purchase their items. Just as the cashier opened the register, one man brandished a knife at the cashier, while the other pulled out a handgun and pointed it at White Lightning and Bart. Neither of them flinched at the weapons.

White Lightning batted her big blue eyes and took on a provocative pose. "Now, you don't wanna point that thing at little ol' me, do you?" she purred with her honey-sweet drawl.

The gunman's jaw went slack as he stared dumbly at her. That was more than enough time for Bart to snatch the gun away from him, even as he refrained from using his speed. Swinging the full grocery basket hard into the gunman's face, Bart knocked him down and out. The man with knife backed away and bolted out of the door, swinging the glass and metal wide open. Bart picked up an energy drink can from a nearby display and pitched it at the escapee, barely missing the closing door. The shiny can bounced off of the hooded head and hit the concrete at the same time as the young man.

White Lightning took the basket from Bart and stepped over the fallen robber to set the goods on the counter for the cashier to ring up. Bart looked at the pistol in his hand. Bart followed her example and set the gun on the counter beside the basket. White Lightning raised an eyebrow and picked up the weapon. "Keep it, spitfire. War spoils."

"But I don't want it."

"Then I'll keep it." She checked the safety, and then tucked it into her waistband.

The cashier was already calling the police. Once she was done, she dumped the basket's contents into a paper bag and handed them to White Lightning. "You take these as thank you. Free."

Bart dragged the fallen gunman outside and tied him to the other robber with duct tape that the cashier had hanging from the janitorial bucket near the door. White Lightning packed the food into the saddlebags, and then tossed Bart the spare helmet when he approached the motorcycle. The flashing blue and red lights of an approaching police car brought a curse to her lips. "Let's go, spitfire."

The motorcycle roared away and down the streets, eventually stopping at a fast food restaurant featuring fried chicken. "Well, that was close," White Lightning told her passenger with a frustrated sigh. "No hanging around for questions for me. I just hope that an APB doesn't get put out for a runaway witness."

"Same here," Bart admitted.

"Well, now that we got our shopping done for tomorrow's lunch on the run, how about we get ourselves some dinner that's a little more interesting than sandwiches?" She jerked a thumb to the restaurant.

Later, Bart sat on the floor of the truck's sleeper and tucked into his meat and potatoes meal, while Mama and White Lightning ate at the tiny table. Mama swallowed a bite of her chicken and looked to her daughter. "That was some luck. I hope this isn't a bad omen for tomorrow."

White Lightning wasn't paying much attention to the conversation. Instead, she was watching the little television. "Hey, Mama... Looks like Impulse is tearing it up in Atlanta."

"Huh, good thing we didn't take that job, then." Mama didn't look up at the screen.

Bart, however, stared up at the newscast featuring a familiar red and white uniform. Frame by frame, the images flashed onto the screen and he focused as hard as he could to collect the entirety of the newswoman's words. It was no scout that damaged a few blocks while taking down vandals, Bart was sure of it now. "That's not-!" he managed to catch himself before he blurted out "me" in front of witnesses. He shoved as much chicken as he could into his mouth as a makeshift gag while he let the newscaster finish her report.

White Lightning looked toward her erstwhile accomplice. "That's not Impulse?" she asked in clarification. When Bart affirmed it, she glanced back at the television. "How can you tell?"

Fortunately, he had enough greasy food crammed into his mouth that he had some time to come up with an answer. "'Cause he wouldn't bust up bad guys like that."

White Lightning raised a finely arched eyebrow at that, but then nodded in agreement. "No, I guess not. He likes to just take them down as fast as he can and then run off. I still don't know what he's always in a hurry for."

Bart shrugged and stuffed his mouth again. He usually had friends to go hang out with, a videogame to play, or homework to do, instead of hanging around with the bad guys and law enforcement. Besides, they always asked questions that he wasn't supposed to answer.

Mama leaned back in the seat and lit a cigarette. "Well, hopefully that squirt doesn't show up tomorrow. First thing in the mornin', no sleepin' in."

"It's not as fun in daylight," sighed her daughter. "But I guess if that's how it goes..." She grinned at Bart, "No sleepin' in for you either. You still have to work for your keep."

Mama glanced to the boy. "You can sleep in the front if you want."

Bart nodded and wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve. "What are we gonna be doing tomorrow?"

With a sparkle in her eye, White Lightning answered, "Stealing from thieves, sweetie."

Early in the morning, White Lightning and her erstwhile accomplice approached a small payday loan store. White Lightning wore her distinctive blue and white garb that enticed wandering eyes to look closer. Bart wore a slightly oversized jacket bearing the same colors and zigzag pattern across the shoulders. Over his head, he wore a blue bandanna that covered this thick hair and could double as a mask over his eyes. Tucked into a jacket pocket was a small caliber handgun. He didn't like the weight of it. He didn't like the look of it. He certainly didn't like the sharp, distinctive smell of it. But White Lightning insisted that he take it for "just in case" and showed him how to properly use and disarm it.

"That's our target, spitfire," she told him, "We'll go in, get the cash, and get out. It's early enough that they'll have plenty, if the armored truck's come by already."

"Like that one?" Bart pointed down the street at an approaching armored truck.

A wicked smile curved on her lips. "Oh, I like this. This is better than knocking down a loan shark. If it stops at the store, we'll take that truck. I'll give 'em the ol' whammy, and then you tie 'em up. Don't hurt 'em, though. Pull down your mask, now, spitfire. Don't show the gun until I tell you to."

Bart pulled the fold of blue cloth over his eyes, fidgeting with it until the eyeholes lined up right. It felt uncomfortably loose on his face and there was no reflection of warmth without lenses over his eyes. The truck slowed and stopped behind the store. White Lightning moved to intercept the guards and Bart followed her.

One got out of the truck and she approached him. His tension slackened and soon the other guard joined him outside of the truck at White Lightning's beckoning behest. A couple of fast strikes and both men were lying on the pavement. Bart's teeth clenched and he felt his breakfast flop in his belly. What should he do? How could he stop this and not blow his cover? What should he do? He couldn't let her get away with this! How could he think his way out of this?! He was no good at that!

White Lightning tossed the rope she had hanging on her belt to him. "Tie 'em up, spitfire. Take their radios, while you're at it." She pulled off the uniform shirt and hat of the smaller guard and put them on.

Bart tied up the guards at normal speed, trying to buy himself time to think. What would Carol do? She was smart and without superpowers, right? She would be bailing Preston out, while Impulse saved the day, and then help cover for Bart running off. She was awesome like that. But this wasn't Manchester and Bart couldn't just disappear and then come back with some lame excuse about calling the police. White Lightning wouldn't go for that.

Suddenly, the armored truck pulled away and drove down the street. Bart gaped and stared. What was she doing? She was leaving him behind! "Grife! Grifegrifegrifegrife!"

He needed some backup on this one! But the police always had a hard time with catching White Lightning. What else could he do? He stared at the radios on the pavement. Picking one up, he played with the controls, but he had no idea what he was doing. Dropping it, he looked around for another option. There was no way he was going to let White Lightning get away with this! If Robin and Arrowette could take out bad guys without using superpowers, then he could do it, too!

Bart loped towards the motorcycle that White Lightning left behind. After a little fumbling with the controls, the engine roared to life. Giving the sportbike all of the gas he could, he sped after the hijacked truck. Speeding through an intersection against the light, horns blared as he narrowly missed collision. A siren wailed behind him and flashing lights blinked red and blue in his mirrors. Bart swore in his first language again and kept racing through the streets in the direction he was sure White Lightning took. He could already visualize White Lightning loading sacks of cash into the trailer of Mama's truck and the two laughing all the way down the interstate.

Then he spotted the armored truck a couple of stoplights ahead of him. Pulling up alongside the truck, he saw White Lightning wearing the top half of a security guard's uniform behind the wheel. She spotted him and smiled, but that smile evaporated when she saw the flashing lights. Her blue eyes widened in panic and she yanked the wheel to turn the truck down a sidestreet. The tires screeched and the truck threatened to tip, but it made the turn. Bart turned the bike and followed after her and the police followed after him.

How to stop her? How to stop her? Impulse could do it, no problem, but then he would have the Flash breathing down his neck faster than an eyeblink. His mind's eye played out the Flash stealing his speed and throwing him in jail alongside White Lightning. Maybe he could prove that he wasn't the fake with White Lightning as his alibi?

The bike soon outpaced the truck and Bart spotted bright orange signs set up along the street. "Road Work Ahead" and "Bump", they read. Bump? What bump? He just saw a gravel-filled trench in the pavement ahead. Weren't bumps those yellow painted things in the street that were supposed to slow cars down?

He sped the bike up so it wasn't quite so close to the armored truck's bumper. The front wheel of the bike hit the gravel-filled trench and jammed against the edge of the pavement. The back wheel lifted off of the ground and Bart could feel that it wasn't going to stop any time soon. He was ejected off of the bike and thrown forward. The flying sensation was fun, but the pavement was waiting for him. He instinctively sucked in a breath, closed his eyes, and vibrated his molecules to pass through the asphalt. As soon as he slowed down enough in the ground that he wasn't going to be hurt by stopping, he swam through the dark earth and climbed through the crust of pavement. Gasping for breath, he surveyed his surroundings. Above him, the armored truck was stopped with the sportbike jammed beneath its front bumper. Police cars surrounded the truck and Bart could hear them barking at White Lightning to step out. Bart froze under the truck, not sure what to do next.

'Grife!' If Wally was monitoring the Speed Force, then he would have a definite ping on him, Bart realized. Should he run? Should he stay? He managed to piece together enough syllables from the police to realize that they spotted him under the truck. He needed stronger language than what he had in his vocabulary for this. Now what? If he ran now, they would see him disappear and know he wasn't an ordinary delinquent.

"Spitfire?" he heard White Lightning call out panickedly, "You okay? Spitfire?"

"Yeah," he replied, "I'm okay."

"It's gonna be okay, kid," she told him, "I'll fix this."

"Fix this?" How was she going to do that? This was looking like a good time for the reset button.

White Lightning took a few deep, focusing breaths. When she was done, she gave the police her most dazzling smile. "Now, why would you all be pointing those things at me? You don't want to be doing that, do you? You all work so hard, you all deserve a break. Why don't you put everything away and go take a break? You all have done so much already." She purred to the police and was encouraged when their resolve wavered. "That's right. Little ol' me isn't much of a threat. There's much bigger fish for you brave officers to fry. You need to gather your strength for that, right? You all deserve a break. You have done so much already. Would you all go have a drink on me?"

Bart's jaw nearly hit the pavement when he saw the police get back into their cars and drive away. He didn't know she could do that! He scrambled out from underneath the truck and saw White Lightning leaning against its side, exhausted. She looked to him, and then stared. "There's not a scratch on you! I ran over you with a truck!"

He looked at his clothes, and then shrugged. "I got between the wheels."

White Lightning looked at the motorcycle under the bumper. "How? You were thrown in front of the bike! You should be roadkill!" She staggered and shook her head. "Nevermind that. We can save it for later. Let's get out of here." She yanked the bike out from under the truck and looked it over. "She'll run. Get on and let's go before the cops figure out what hit 'em."

She got on the bike and Bart sat behind her. They tore through the streets back to Mama's truck. As soon as the motorcycle was secured, they climbed into the cab and took refuge in the back of the sleeper. "Hit it, Mama!" White Lightning urged, "We might have company."

Mama nodded and took the truck onto the road, soon rejoining the interstate. "How much did you get?"

White Lightning pulled bundles of hundred dollar bills from her beltpouches. "Twenty grand."

Mama hooted and grinned, "Good job, darlin'!"

"Oh, I dunno 'bout that, Mama," White Lightning sighed, "I coulda had close to a couple million that was in that armored truck, but the cops got on our tail and Spitfire had a close call. Damn near gave me a heart attack."

"Oh?"

While White Lightning recounted the bungled heist, Bart stared at the money. He hadn't stopped her! Bummed, he shrugged off the jacket and pulled the bandanna off of his head. Sure, he kept the rest of the money out of her hands, but she still got away with some of the loot. He could already hear Wally's voice in his head, "You screwed up again."

White Lightning tousled his unruly hair. "It's okay, sweetie. You did good. We came out a little farther ahead than we went in. Don't worry about the bike. We can fix it. Just be a little more careful next time, okay? You scared the devil out of me." She had a couple of pills in her hand and swallowed them. "Scoot, sweetie. I'm gonna set the bed down and take a nap. Go sit up front with Mama."

Bart managed a wan grin and nod for her and clambered to the passenger seat. Through the window, the Missouri landscape inched by. Mama handed him a wrapped sandwich and he took it. The bites were dry in his mouth and he choked down each morsel. Now what was he going to do?