{Central City-Earth-128}

{July 31, 01:28 EDT}

Over the years, and despite the many upheavals in the world, the Flash Memorial Museum was one heroic monument that had remained largely untouched. When the Justice Lords had built it, it had been a memorial to a friend but also a martyr, whose death had been the catalyst for a better world. Afterwards, the Hall of Justice had been closed but the Flash Museum left be, a tribute to the one hero who would never have allowed himself to have become so corrupted-or the one who would have saved the world and the Justice Lords from the alternate-universe invaders, depending on your personal feelings on the Justice Lords. Lord Superman, on his return, hadn't touched the memorial despite Wally publicly opposing him. Wally wasn't sure if Lord Superman thought Barry would've been on his side, or if the death of the second Flash was too sacrosanct for even Lord Superman's madness to touch, the dead hero on too high a pedestal for even a god to reach. Whatever it was, Wally clung to it as a reminder that, once, there'd been a man that Uncle Barry had thought of as a friend, and in another life was one of Earth's greatest heroes. In this life, that man had probably died years ago, long before a kryptonite arrow breached his skull, but he still deserve to be mourned.

So did Barry Allen. To so many people the previous Flash was a hero, an icon, a symbol of anything that anybody wanted to elevate-but right now, Wally keenly missed his uncle. Uncle Steve was a great guy and he made Aunt Iris happy, which was a heroic trait in Wally's book, but he wasn't the one who'd changed Wally's life even after losing his own.

Given all that, it probably would've been more appropriate to visit Barry's grave, but it was in a prominent spot in Arlington with high security that wouldn't give him the privacy he needed to talk-and he needed to talk, to get all the things buzzing in his skull out, even if it was to an empty suit. The Museum just had one night guard, who'd worked every single night straight for the past five years with steady determination and dedication. They'd met often enough and got along well enough that he could probably be convinced to go sit in his booth and work on his Candy Crush scores for a little while to give Wally some privacy.

He entered his security code into the museum's back door and quietly closed the door behind him, walking through the day staff's breakroom for the main museum floor. During the day, the museum was always bustling with staff, visitors and school trips, but at one in the morning the place was dark aside from the occasional uplit exhibit an as still and quiet as the-

Time for pun systems to go offline, he told himself sternly, walking among the displays from STAR labs of their data on Barry's top speeds and theories on how he went so fast without destroying his body or being ripped apart by the air itself (only theories-even now, with Wally visiting regularly, they still hadn't really figured it out). The next hall was the main room, with the main display of three uplit costumes. Jay Garrick's most iconic outfit was on the left as Wally approached it, his own first Flash costume on the right, and in the middle…

"Hello?" a voice called as a beam of light swung through from the room on the far side of the hall. "Somebody there?"

"Hey, Harrolds," Wally said, raising a hand to cover his eyes as the night guard's flashlight found him. "Just working through some stuff. Is it okay if I hang out?"

"Oh, hey, Flash," Harrolds said, lowering the flashlight and touching the brim of his cap respectfully. "'Course you is basically your place, after all. I reckon it's safe from villains for a while if I take a nap in my booth, eh?"

"Thanks, man," Wally said, grinning as Harrolds fished a bag of Haribos out of his pocket and tossed them to Wally on his way past. It wasn't exactly a secret that speedsters like to eat, and Harrolds always happened to have snacks in his pockets whenever Wally saw him. He chewed on the gummy sweets as he waited for Harrolds' flashlight and footsteps to fade away, then turned back to Barry's uniform. It didn't look like the one the alternate Uncle Barry had been wearing-he'd probably gotten upgrades from STAR labs, like Wally did periodically. But it was the uniform of his Uncle Barry.

"Hey, Uncle B," he said quietly. "I bet you already know, but I wanted to tell you myself… Superman's dead." He took a deep breath. "I mean, the guy you knew died not long after you did, basically. But now he's dead the way you don't come back from, too. He was killed by people he'd hurt, but… that doesn't make it right, does it? No trial, no judge, no jury… I don't know how we could've done it right, but still… hell, we don't even know how to put the women responsible on trial. Like, where the hell do we find an impartial judge and jury for the murder of Lord Superman? Space? Kyle's not back from space yet, maybe he'll bring some Green Lanterns that can do the job, if they do that kinda thing… Like, I hear they passed judgement on Hal Jordan and took his ring away, but I dunno if they judge non-Lanterns, but if they're space cops, maybe they know a space justice system? I'm rambling…"

He fell quiet for a minute, discomfort rolling in his guts. The empty uniform waited patiently for him to gather his thoughts. Finally, he slowly said, "you were there when he died. Not you, but… from an alternate universe where you never died and none of this happened. Or, well, a bunch of other stuff didn't happen first, and Lex Luthor murdering you was something that didn't happen as a result. The other you seemed pretty relieved when Batman and Lord Batman were figuring it all out, like it'd been crushing him with guilt to think that all his friends became dictators because they lost him. Or would've. But I guess that's how you would've felt, if you knew, huh? Point is… there's a world not far away where you're alive. He's still the Flash, and he and his Iris are having kids. His sidekick's his grandson from the future because the other me's dropping out of the hero game to go to university with his girlfriend… might be fiancee, now, I think he proposed to her when she found out he was alive. Anyway, the other me and the other you both seem happy with their lives."

The other him didn't have all of the friends that Wally did, but he had plenty of friends that Wally didn't. He had a girlfriend, a dog, a place in his world that felt right for him. That place didn't involve being the Flash, but on the other hand, he still had his Uncle Barry. How could you really quantify any of it, say which was better or worse?

Wally let out a breath. "It was good to see you happy. It was good to see a you and me that got to fight side by side, and they were everything I'd always dreamed of. It's good to know that that world exists, even if it's not here. I mean, string theory, right? Everything happens somewhere. But it was good to see it." He shuffle from foot to foot. "It's good to know that that world's real. But so's this one, and this one's my world. I wish you were alive, and I wish everything wasn't a mess right now with all the governments and the military struggling to rebuild themselves without Lord Superman and all the fighting with his loyalists, and I wish we didn't have to put Cheshire and Tigress on trial. I wish he wasn't dead…" He sighed. "Running out of pennies here, and wishing's not going to change anything, right? That's up to us. And I have no goddamn clue what to do, except to keep doing what I think's the right thing as hard as I can, even if other people think it's… naive, or simple, or whatever. Like I don't understand that what Lord Superman did was horrific or anything. I just think…" He rubbed his head through his cowl. "Sometimes there's no right thing to do. I know that. I just think that doing the wrong thing for the right reasons isn't the same as doing the right thing, y'know? If I can't do the right thing, I can do my best, at least. That's enough, right?"

"I think so."

"Whoaholycrap!" Wally yelped, spinning around at superspeed.

"Whoa, kid, it's just me," Harrolds said, briefly shining his flashlight under his bearded chin like a cheesy horror movie villain.

"Scared the hell outta me," Wally gasped, rubbing his chest, looking from Harrolds to his uncle's empty, silent costume. Then what Harrolds had said sank in. "Wait, were you listening?"

"Sorry," the guard said sheepishly. "Sound kinda carries when it's this quiet, y'know? But for what it's worth, through everything so far, you've stuck to your principles and never let them slide for anything or anyone. If I knew him…" He gestured to Barry's costume. Wally was startled to realize that Harrols had taken his gloves off-he'd never seen the guard without them, and thus never realized that he was missing fingers on both hands. "...I'd say he'd be proud of that," Harrolds finished.

"Yeah… thanks," Wally said awkwardly, feeling a little shaken up. "I, um… I'd better go. Thanks."

"No problem," Harrolds said, saluting with his torch as the current Flash zipped off. The guard stayed by the costume case for a whole, regarding the empty costumes in the dark.

"He's a good guy, Barry," the man said softly after a while. "He'll do you proud. He won't let you down like we did."

He shifted his grip on his flashlight, then turned and went back to his rounds.

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Aaaaaaaand it's done in a double feature! Happy holidays, folks, and thank you so much for all the support that this story has received. I've really enjoyed my first DCU fic-writing experience-it's a universe that's a LOT of fun to play with, and I'm looking forward to continuing to write my favourite sorta-crossovers for this fandom. Thank you so, so much to everybody who's read and reviewed, you all make my day, week, month and 2017. I hope your year's been good to you, and I hope 2018 will be even better to you. Every day's a day closer to season 3, after all!