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Lightning. That’s the first thing she thinks when she jolts awake. What time is it? Why would she be thinking about lightning? And what was that weird shivery feel-
RUMBLE!
-ing. Oh. That was why. Lightning always had strange effects on her and Bart, more so than other speedsters, though she had noticed both her father and his uncle Barry had seemed alternately completely at home with it or almost…scared. But for her…there was a bit of inherited, innate fear. But it seemed to call her, almost. She had always felt…at home with it. Not exactly peaceful, or happy, but home.
And tonight the call was stronger than ever, so much so that she thought perhaps it had woken her, not the thunder. After a few moments of deliberating, she swung her feet out from under the covers onto the polished hardwood floor, wrinkling her nose at the way her feet slid on the smooth surface. Psh. Hardwood. No good for running. No traction, unless she focused too much of her power on it. Waste of energy. Waste of time, too. She could never go all out on hardwood. It was good for sock surfing, though…
Irey sighed, rubbing a pale hand over her face as lightning flashed again, lighting up her room and turning her skin translucent for a moment that seemed to stretch on… and on… and…on. A weak chuckle escaped as her eyes slid closed once more. Not even the lightning from which she was born could keep up with her.
She pushed the rest of her covers off her legs and stood up on slim, strong legs born of what felt like centuries of running for others’ lives. She covered a yawn and slid on bare feet to the large bay windows across from her bed in Titans Tower, set above a cozy autumn colored window seat, to kneel on the soft cushions and stare at the rain.
To her eyes, the water was frozen in mid air. So still. Every little move Irey made had the frozen lightning turning the droplettes to diamonds, reflecting and fracturing the light into thousands of rainbows. The sky was silent, stopped still in mid-flash, lit up like Times Square, fracturing a darkest blue-black sky that always reminded her of Raven’s cloak. Her room in the Tower was perfectly placed to watch the dawn over the bay, but most of her teammates didn’t know why she wanted that room, or that she was usually up that early. But she knew that the dawn would be cold, foggy, and mostly grey in a few hours.
They had only gotten back to the tower from a long, complicated SNAFU of epic clusterfuck proportions that had lasted several days for her teammates, but was to her several weeks. But after all the exhausting over-use of her powers, she still couldn’t sleep. It made no sense! She should have slept until noon at least! But this stupid…call made her unable to get the rest she sorely needed.
She couldn’t even open a window. It would take a complicated set of passcodes, scans, codewords and identity proof before it would open from either side unless she wanted to send a emergency code-red top-priority USS to hero bases all around the world. Or, she could use her secret level-fifteen clearance code, which would open any and all doors, windows, cells, rooms, files, and transporters in any JLA or Titans facility, or program. Only one other Titan on the active roster had the same code level, a few more in the JLA, and a few emergency contacts in case all active heroes went rogue/died/disappeared. It came with a password and a ‘masterkey’ which, if shown to anyone ever affiliated with either organization would grant her instant leadership, supplies, information, whatever she needed. Not even Batman could over-ride anything she did with it, remotely or not, and she knew it had taken a big leap of faith for them to even consider giving her one.
She knew, despite idle thoughts, that she wouldn’t use it for anything outside of a world-ending crisis. Emergency use only. After all... it would grant her instant leadership of the Titans. Her friends. Over her leader. And much as they argued, and she joked, she had never wanted to lead anybody or anything in her life. She was happy as the unofficial lieutenant. Unspoken second in command worked for her. Because as much as they claimed to hate each other? When it came down to it? When lives were on the line? They worked together like they had been doing it their whole lives. It was a rumor that Impulse and Robin getting along meant the world was ending, but that it was pure magic to watch. The sort of once-in-a-million moment you were lucky to see once in a lifetime, a pure connection. Instinct. Impulse. From one thought to another, too fast for anyone else to follow, thought to action to reaction in a single second. Magic.
As beautiful as the lightning. But infinitely more dangerous.