Chapter Text
Barry Allen loved League parties.
They were loud, chaotic, full of food, and—most importantly—an excuse to run laps around the Watchtower until someone yelled at him to stop vibrating the furniture.
In fact, he had already raced everyone at least once. Some more intensely than others.
Diana, because she always cheated—Barry just knew she did.
Bruce, because he never allowed a win without planting traps everywhere.
And Clark.
Because while Sups loved to act like he was the bigger person who would never try that hard to win a race, they both knew that wasn’t true.
(Sups was sulky like that.)
Barry was just about to grab a cup of hot chocolate and settle into doing absolutely nothing for the rest of the party—lest he would get actually kicked out—when he noticed Billy.
Who was staring at him.
Not in a creepy Reverse-Flash way.
But in a fascinated, wide-eyed, watching-a-science-documentary kind of way.
Which was somehow both worse and better all at once.
Barry slowed to a stop, grimacing. “… Hey, kid.”
Dealing with Billy always made something in him cringe.
The kid’s questions were always innocent—but loud.
Barry had only so much patience to explain how his powers worked. It was only cute the first three times.
Billy’s head tilted, beaming. “When you run,” he asked earnestly, “does the world feel slower? Or frozen?”
Barry blinked. That was… surprisingly insightful for question seventy-eight.
“Uh,” he mumbled, fiddling with his mug awkwardly.
How do you explain the Speed Force to a kid who doesn’t even know what it is?
“Not frozen,” he finally said. “Just… different.”
In a way, you could understand everything a character in a silent movie said—even without subtitles.
Billy hummed, absorbing that. His beam brightened.
“I see,” he grinned. “I thought you felt like it was me. Like the world’s waiting for you to catch up. And reality feels slow while you feel restless inside—”
He did?
Well… that was more information than he ever wanted to know.
Barry laughed, a little too strained. “Wow…”
What do you say to that?
Flattered? Disturbed? Flustered? Dumbfounded?
Probably a mix of all four?
“…That’s nice?” He settled on.
Before he could add something stupid like, “Please stop asking me questions,” the League went suddenly quiet.
Not quiet as in, “Oops, we forgot the teleportation tube again” way.
No.
Quiet in a “oh… it started” way.
Hall was watching with open amusement. J’onn smiled gently.
Dinah looked like she was trying very hard not to laugh. Diana—not smiling, of course.
Oliver and Ray were pretending that a wall was fascinating.
Everyone else wore varying degrees of amusement.
(Even Bruce.)
Barry froze, then immediately started sweating. This wasn’t good.
He needed a way out, fast.
Billy continued, completely oblivious to Barry’s panic.
Maybe if he jumped out a window—?
“—Also, how does your metabolism work?”
(Barry absently noted that was question thirty-nine regarding food.)
“Can you eat thirty hot dogs in less than a minute? If so, can I see it—”
No.
Absolutely not.
The window wouldn’t work; it was too high.
Damn it.
He resolved to use the door like a coward.
“Race ya!” Barry blurted out.
Billy blinked, finally stopping as the speedster dashed off.
He stared, confused as to why Barry had vanished.
Then he processed the words.
He grinned immediately. “You’re on!”
He was definitely winning this!
He yelled “Shazam!” and took off.