Each bolt a burning river
“More like Kid Flash.”
“Don’t call me that, how about no one calls me that?”
“–Where you’re Kid Flash”
“Welcome to the team, Kid Flash.”
“Are we really calling me “Kid Flash”?
“ Yeah, I think we are.”
“I think you’re officially Kid Flash now.”
The city needs a Flash. The city needs the lightning racing through the streets and up the sides of buildings. Wally knows this. For so long, he dreamed of running, and then he felt the lightning in his bones, threading across every nerve. He didn’t want to be second best, he didn’t want to be the afterthought, like the thunder, coming too late. It wasn’t about fame or glory, it was about proving himself. He was not a child. He’d have done anything to take the same risks, fight the same battles.
Wally would do anything to be Kid Flash again.