Reset! - Chapter Seven

[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 Seven: Wayward

White Lightning slept all the way to Fort Smith, Arkansas. By the time the truck pulled into the stop, Bart was more than ready to jump out and stretch his legs. Mama climbed out of her seat and nudged her daughter. "Hey, get up." Rolling over, White Lightning groaned and covered her head. Mama nudged her again. "You okay?"

White Lightning shook her head, "No, Mama."

"Got whammied by the whammy again?"

Sitting up, White Lighting nodded her drooping head. "It's not getting any easier, Mama. I don't think I'm doing it right." She looked up at her mother. "I think I need to go get some help after all."

"I don't know if she's in New Orleans anymore," Mama murmured, "But we'll go take a look."

"We don't have to go now, Mama. We still gotta finish our run. I'll be okay with a little meds and sleep."

"We'll double time there. I'll give a call when we get to Shreveport and let 'em know I'll be a little late," Mama assured her, "Besides, Bart needs to get to Baton Rouge."

White Lightning looked at the wild mop of brown hair and anxious yellow eyes peeking over the back of the passenger seat. She gave him a smile, "Right."

Mama patted her shoulder, "I'll take care of things outside." She turned to Bart. "Stay here and help keep an eye on things."

After Mama left, White Lightning pulled at her provocative costume. "I gotta get out of this. Hang on a sec, spitfire." She pulled a curtain between the front seats and the sleeper. Bart fidgeted in the seat, bored and restless. Soon, White Lightning pulled the curtain back, wearing more casual attire. "Come on back."

Bart complied and stood next to her. "What's wrong? Did you get hurt?"

"No," she replied, "I just pushed myself a little too far, that's all. Nudging determined folks isn't easy, especially when there's more than one." She sighed and rested her elbows on her knees. "I've been trying to figure this thing out and it's getting stronger, but it's just hurting me more and more. A while back, someone offered to help me out, but I thought that I could do this alone. I can't. Either I give up my whammy, which has saved my butt so many times, or I do something to fix it." She looked up at Bart and patted the empty space on the bed beside her. "So, what about you? Do you have a whammy that's saved your butt?"

Bart's face took on the expression of a startled cat. White Lightning laughed. "Don't worry, spitfire, I won't tell if you want to keep it secret. I only figured it out because hitting the pavement and getting run over by a truck didn't hurt you. The least you should have is a ragin' case of road rash. So, how'd you do it?" When he hesitated, she purred, "It's okay. You can show me. I won't think badly of you."

He vibrated his hand and passed it through the corner of the wall beside the bed and back out. White Lightning's blue eyes widened with delight. "You can walk through walls?" When he nodded, her delight turned into excited glee. "Oh, spitfire, you are worth more than twice your weight in gold for that!"

Bart stared at his hand, feeling warm and fogged. Wouldn't Wally find him? "I didn't want to do that. Why did I do that?" He looked to White Lightning with alarm. "Did you just charm me?"

"I don't know," she replied, "I didn't mean to if I did."

Panic surged through his core and he backed away from her. He wanted out. He wanted away. White Lightning reached out to him. "Wait! I didn't mean to!"

"I-I have to go!" Bart bolted over the passenger seat and out the door. His feet hit the pavement and he surveyed the dozens of semitrucks that surrounded him. Where to go? What to do? He picked a random direction and started at an easy, normal lope. He wanted to rip through the sound barrier a few times over, but the mental image of Wally nabbing him reined him in.

The steady click of heels told him that White Lightning was running towards him. He picked up his pace just enough to keep a healthy lead ahead of her. Eventually, her stamina would give out. That is, if Mama didn't step out in front of him from a doorway. He jerked to a stop just before he ran into her.

"Bart! Why aren't you in the truck?" Bart moved to run away, but Mama grabbed him. She spotted her daughter racing towards them. "What happened?"

"I spooked him," she answered. To Bart, she said, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do that."

"It's not just that," Bart confessed, "If I..." He glanced at Mama and then back to White Lightning, "I can't do what I did, 'cause I might get tracked down when I do."

Mama scowled, "What the hell are you talking about?"

"He's like me, Mama."

Mama raised a pale eyebrow at that. "Oh. Is that why you're on the run?"

Bart shrugged, "Sorta."

White Lightning touched his shoulder. "If there's help for you in Baton Rouge, we'll get you to Baton Rouge. Don't worry 'bout anyone coming after you. We're experts at being on the run, spitfire."

Mama nudged him back towards the truck. "Go back and lay low for a bit. If anyone is coming here, they have a lot of trucks to look through before they can find you. We'll be long out of town by then."

Bart looked at the two women, and then started back to the truck. Once inside, White Lightning drew the curtain to obscure the sleeper from prying eyes. She sat down on the bed again and Bart leaned against the closet door. He desperately wished he had one of his handheld game systems with him to keep him distracted. Instead, he was treated to a near eternal awkward silence.

"I won't do that again," White Lightning vowed, "I'm going to get the help I need to get this working right."

"How did you get your ability? Were you born with it? Was it an accident?" He visualized a lab-coat clad White Lightning surrounded by vials and beakers of chemicals.

"I'm not sure," she replied, "I don't even know when it really started. I only started figuring it out a few years ago. What about you?"

"I was born like this, but I didn't know I could do it until I ran through a wall instead of hitting it." How long ago was that? It seemed like ages past. He remembered Wally trying to help him and Grandma Iris trying to talk him into taking Bart on. Why weren't they mentor and student? Bart knew that he was no Kid Flash. Every thing he did seemed to be measured against that. Why couldn't he just be Impulse? Impulse wasn't a sidekick. Impulse didn't need to be a sidekick. There was no way he was ever going to seriously put on that yellow and red suit. No way. Nuh-uh. Forget it. What was the point of being Kid Flash, if he wasn't running alongside the Flash, anyways?

"That's a serious power you got there," White Lightning remarked, "I bet some folks would love to shove you in a costume for one cause or another, if they found out. But don't let them, if you don't want it. It's your life and you're the one living it, spitfire, and don't you ever forget that."

She stood up and gestured him to step away from the closet. From inside of it, she pulled a guitar case out and set it on the bed. Inside the case, a twelve-string guitar waited to be played. She checked its tuning, and then started to strum. Bart listened to her play, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. She smiled, "You play anything?"

"Yeah," he replied, "I played the guitar at a concert at my school." He grinned at the fond memory. "It was awesome. Everyone was cheering at the end."

"No kidding?" She stopped playing and held the guitar towards him. "Wanna give it a try?"

He accepted the instrument and put his fingers to the strings. As he played, he drifted from one fragment of a song to another, fitting them together like pieces of a puzzle. Some songs sounded a little weird to him on the twelve-string, so he would move to another song, hoping it would sound better. He kept going until he found something that sounded right. White Lightning's jaw slackened. "Spitfire, you got more than one talent there. You keep working on this and I would bet that you could make some nice money."

"Really?"

"I mean it," she replied, "I've been playing since I was a little girl. Thought that I was going to be a rock star someday. I can't do what you just did off of the top of my head. You're good, spitfire. You just need a little more polish and some stage presence." She pursed her lips together, as if tasting an idea. "Can you read sheet music?"

Bart nodded. Carol had showed him how months earlier when he watched her play piano and asked about the music. She didn't let him play on the piano, though. Something about expensive repairs. Some time after that, Helen had bought him a beginner's book on playing guitar, hoping that he would pick up a hobby other than videogames.

They heard the driver side door open and White Lightning got up and poked her head through the curtain. "Ready to go, Mama?"

"We're going," Mama replied as she started the engine.

White Lightning took the guitar and put it back in its case and into the closet. The truck rumbled away from the stop and was soon back on the highway. She turned on the little television and laid down on the bed against the wall. She soon closed her eyes and slept. Meanwhile, Bart surfed the satellite-served channels. His stomach grumbled and he looked towards the refrigerator, and then to the curtain that blocked Mama from view.

He got up and approached the curtain. "Do you have anything to eat back here?"

"Look in the fridge and cabinets and help yourself."

Bart did just that and eventually settled on a sandwich made from a bagel, cream cheese, and lunchmeat. It was that or the yogurt. Once the edge was taken from his hunger, he settled back onto the bed and went back to flipping channels until he fell asleep.

When the truck stopped again, it was well into the evening. Mama came behind the curtain and woke up her passengers. "We're in Shreveport. I'm gonna go out and take care of things. I'll be bringing back dinner. You two stay here. I mean it this time."

The television was still on and White Lightning changed the channel to news. After a few minutes, she sat up and listened to the reporter intently. "Earlier today, the bandit known as White Lightning attempted to hijack an armored truck in Kansas City. Reports state that she was stopped when her accomplice, a young man identified only as Spitfire, crashed his motorcycle in front of the stolen truck and was subsequently run over. Both escaped..."

Bart lost his focus on the words by that time. He was just staring dumbly at the frames flickering by. He was Spitfire! His gut sank to somewhere beneath the floor. He was a sidekick to a supervillianess! Oh, this wasn't good.

"Relax," White Lightning told him, "They don't know who you are or how to find you."

"If anyone finds out, I'm toast."

"Then it will be our little secret. Don't worry about it." She got off of the bed and shooed him off, as well. With a well-practiced move, she flipped the bed up to reveal the dinette. After flipping the table down into place, she excused herself into the tiny bathroom.

Soon, Mama returned with a fast food meal. While they all ate, she laid out the night's plans. "Darlin', you'll take the wheel tonight, since you're rested up. We won't get to Baton Rouge until after midnight, so we'll have to find a place for Bart to stay for the night. I don't want him walking around by himself in the dark. "

"I'll be okay," Bart interjected, "I'll just go to my friend's."

"How far in town is your friend?"

"I dunno, she's in a suburb near the university."

"We'll get you a hotel room," Mama told him, "We're not going to be driving this rig around residential areas if we can help it."

"He's a minor, Mama," reminded White Lightning, "One of us will have to check him in."

Mama frowned at this. "We have to be careful about this."

"We could just drop him off near the university," White Lightning suggested, "Trucks would be going in and out pretty often and he would fit in. He might be a little short and scrawny for a college boy, but there's security there and plenty of traffic, even late at night. He can call his friend from there."

It was obvious that Mama wasn't fond of this idea, but she nodded in agreement. "Alright. We'll drop him off at LSU. Should be easy enough to find, anyways."

After dinner, Mama flipped the bed down and White Lightning took the wheel. Bart settled into the passenger seat. Behind them, Mama closed the curtain. The truck rolled back onto the highway and headed southeast.

White Lightning glanced askance at her erstwhile accomplice. "You old enough to drive yet, spitfire?"

"I don't think so," he replied, "But I've drove before."

She grinned at that and chuckled softly. "Figures that would be the case. Are you still in school?"

He nodded, "Yeah."

"Let me take a guess, only so-so on the grades?"

"Yeah."

"School's boring to you, isn't it?"

"Oh, yeah. It's like the clock slows down in class and it takes forever for a second to tick by and it's really hard to keep track of what the teacher is say. Then the teacher will ask me a question and I don't know what they're talking about. I keep getting in trouble for the answers that I give, too. I'm not trying to be a smart-mouth! That's just the best answer that I got!"

White Lightning laughed heartily at Bart's honest frustration. "You got any plans for after you get out of school?"

Bart shrugged at that. He didn't want to tell her that he planned to be a full-time superhero. Though, all of the superheroes in his comic books had jobs for their alternate identities. He wasn't really sure if that applied in the real world, though. Wally worked as a mechanic, but that was all he knew about for sure. "I've never really thought about that."

"Living only for today, huh?" She smiled broadly, "I can relate to that. You never know if you're going to have a tomorrow. Got a lot a friends back home?"

"Yeah," he answered, "They're all pretty cool. We hang out together a lot. We even made a movie, once! That was fun, even though I had to play the bad guy."

"Looks like your friends have you pegged, spitfire," White Lightning teased. "Are you going to be putting it online? It would be a good way to get an audience."

Bart shrugged again. "I dunno. Maybe. It's up to Preston. He wants to send it in to some competition first, though. He's trying to get some scholarships to go to a film school or something. He figures that if he doesn't get it this year, he'll be able to try again next year."

"He sounds like a smart kid." White Lightning checked her mirrors and pulled into another lane to pass a slow, heavily-laden truck ahead of her. "You got a girl back home?"

"Like a girlfriend? I dunno, maybe."

"Maybe?"

"It's not like we go out on dates or anything, but we kissed once" Bart admitted, feeling warmth creeping up in his cheeks.

"You like her?"

"Oh, yeah! She's awesome and smart and fun and awesome! She's my best-best friend!"

"Is she pretty?"

"That too." His cheeks were feeling a little hotter, now that he was thinking about Carol in a different way. He never really noticed it much before, but she was developing the kind of figure that Kon would eye.

"Don't be afraid to ask her out," White Lightning advised, "If you don't make your move, she might decide to stop waiting and go with someone else. She's already given you the signal that she's ready, by the sounds of it."

"Huh. You think so?"

"I know so, spitfire," she answered.

Bart rubbed at the back of his neck and squirmed his seat. "How would I ask her out?"

"Just ask her if she wants to go. You could start out with something easy, like the old dinner and a movie routine. Just make sure that you be a gentleman about it and pay for her portion, too."

"Okay."

"I'm just wondering, how old are you, anyways?"

Bart scrambled to remember what he was supposed to answer. "Um, fifteen." Was that right? It sounded right. In any case, it was close enough.

White Lightning's blue eyes gave him a quick once-over. "Huh. Was your birthday recently?" Bart gave her a curious glance and she waved the question away. "Nevermind. I was just wondering how much longer you had until you were legal."

"Legal?"

"Eighteen."

"Oh." Bart tilted his head. "Why's that?"

"I was thinking that having a steady accomplice would be a good thing," she explained, "But I don't want to be keeping jailbait around. I'm not really into that whole Batman and Robin thing. Once you're old enough, kid, I wouldn't mind having you around as my right-hand man." She grinned wickedly, "Especially with your walking through walls gift. The things we could do with that! Between the abilities of the two of us, we'd be damn near uncatchable."

Bart wasn't sure how to respond to that. White Lightning heard a song on the radio that she liked and turned up the volume to enjoy it. After a while, the boredom caught up with Bart and he rested his head against the window. There wasn't much to see outside. Soon, he closed his eyes and napped.

Manchester was flooding. He and Max were working almost nonstop to protect the town from the rising waters, but they couldn't keep up. Max put out a call for any help he could get, including from criminals that Impulse fought against. Bart couldn't understand why Max would do such a thing. There were good guys and bad guys and that was how the world was.

"You traveled through time for years and you never became a criminal," Impulse had told Max.

"Whatever gave you that idea?" Max retorted with grim seriousness.

Impulse was shocked by that answer, but was distracted from asking further. Days passed into months, but Bart had forgotten about what Max had said. Now he wanted to ask, to find out what happened, how it happened.

Bart found himself standing in an empty house. All of the furniture was gone and all of the walls were bare. Max was gone and Bart didn't know where he was. He reached out to his friends, but they either shooed him away or were nowhere to be found. He was alone. His chest tightened in panic and he started running as fast as he could across the countryside. But no matter how hard he ran, the landscape inched by so slowly.

In front of him, lightning streaked over the ground. In the distance, bolt after bolt coalesced into a familiar white and red costume. "What's the matter?" the figure mocked, "Can't you catch me? Maybe I ought to catch you."