Author's Note: Hey readers. The reason I'm writing this is because I was listening to some seriously depressing music. I have no idea why though. This is my first and most likely only song-fic. But if this works out, I may write another someday.
Disclaimer: I don't own the Justice League or the featured song.
Concrete Angel
She walks to school with the lunch she packed
No one knows what she's holding back
Wearing the same dress she wore yesterday
She hides the bruises with linen and lace.
O-oooh…
Wally sighed as he stared down at the Earth from the Watchtower. Everyone he knew had no idea what he's been through and still has to deal with… All the pain he keeps in. They don't even realize that he always changes at superspeed to make sure they don't see his scars. The Justice League would always pass it off as him showing off his powers.
That would be hard to explain since his fast healing didn't leave scars. But they didn't know that, fortunately.
The teacher wonders but she doesn't ask
It's hard to see the pain behind the mask.
Bearing the burden of a secret storm
Sometimes she wishes she was never born.
He saw the looks J'onn often gave him. They were usually searching as if confused. The Martian never asked why he felt the pain. The friendliness and bright, joyous cheer made good cover and kept him from being pestered.
He hurt all the time, keeping so many secrets would do that to anyone. But his father always had Wally understand the world would be better off without him. He didn't deserve to live and at times he wished his parents had never met.
Through the wind and the rain
She stands hard as a stone in world that she can't rise above.
But her dreams give her wings
And she flies to a place where she's loved.
Concrete Angel…
His one defense was his heart. The thing he was punished for also gave him sweet release as he hardened his being against the treatment brought by the one who should have protected him. In the place he called home, he felt no joy or anger, just a numb cold shell to keep him safe from judgment that would never stop. Ever.
His friends always gave him hope and the courage to carry on. If only they knew how much he needed them. "Hey, Hotshot! Quit moping unless you want to miss your ride back to Central City."
"Me? I never mope. I was just wondering if my mom made meatloaf or turkey for dinner." That wasn't quite accurate. It was actually deciding on what TV dinner he was going to have. John just rolled his eyes as they left. Apparently none of the others were coming.
The ride there was oddly quiet; neither party could quite think of what to say before John realized something as they landed. "Flash, if you're mom still makes you dinner, just how old are you really?"
This disturbed the speedster but he dutifully answered. "Seventeen." That's all he said before zipping off. The Green Lantern of Earth was shaken to learn how young his friend really was.
A voice cries in the middle of the night
The neighbors hear but they turn out the light.
A fragile soul caught in the hands of fate
When morning comes it'll be too late.
"Where have you been, boy?" a rough hand grabbed the throat of Wally West as he entered his house.
"Out." came the choked reply.
"You've been going 'out' for years now. What the hell do you do? I bet you've knocked up some bitch!" Wally desperately tried to get away but couldn't. "That's why you keep taking my food. Well, it ends tonight. For good." the last two words were practically whispered as the piss drunk man grabbed something out of his pocket.
The hero of Central and Keystone City screamed as the serrated blade cut through the flesh of his stomach. "Shut up!" roared the father of the Flash, barely resembling a human being. Wally's punishment for screaming was a brutal punch to the face, effectively breaking his nose and cheekbones.
But the one scream was enough. John Stewart had been doing a quick sweep of the city when he heard a blood-curdling, hair-raising scream followed by complete silence. What was most worrying was the fact that the scream had sounded disturbingly similar to Flash's, although it was hard to tell.
Through the wind and the rain
She stands hard as a stone in world that she can't rise above.
But her dreams give her wings
And she flies to a place where she's loved.
Concrete Angel!
John broke down the door and was enraged by the sight. The Flash was in a bloodied and crumpled heap with a missing cowl. Leering above stood a large man about 6' 5''. John easily incapacitated him with his power ring. Upon closer inspection, the Lantern saw and heard light raspy breathing coming from the downed hero.
Without a second thought John carried his friend straight to the nearest hospital. It was safe to say more than a few people were shocked at the sight of the Green Lantern of Earth carrying in an unmasked and defeated speedster.
A statue stands in a shaded place
An angel girl with an upturned face.
A name is written on a polished rock
A broken heart that the world forgot.
"He never stood a chance." It was three days later and the League was still reeling… No, the world was. Every single news station had someone out to get the story: Flash, now known as teenager Wally West, was brutally murdered by his father.
"He never had a chance, Diana." Batman corrected. The remains of the Justice League stood in the quiet park. It was the small area between the Twin cities. No one questioned the decision to put the grave there, beneath a tree that was well-known as a haunt for the red-headed boy everyone up until that point ignored.
Through the wind and the rain
She stands hard as a stone in world that she can't rise above.
But her dreams give her wings
And she flies to a place where she is loved.
Concrete Angel!
Ooooh…
"Can we please not do this?" a familiar voice called distantly to the depressed gang of six superheroes.
"Wally?" Hawkgirl asked timidly.
"That's my name and don't wear it out." None of the people could resist a light chuckle, not even Batman. "I knew I'd get you to smile, even if it killed me. Oh, wait, it did. Sorry, I just had to say it."
Despite the apology, the group lowered their heads. "Just promise me you'll never end up like the Lords, and part of me will always be with you all."
Murmurs of 'I promise' coursed through the group. The silence afterwards seemed a little more bearable to each of them and over the later years, they all were shocked to find a young, red-headed boy with superspeed sitting on their friends grave one day as they came on their annual visit.