A/N: This plot bunny has honestly been ruining my life like why the crap has no one else done this must I really step up and do this ugh commitment ugh.

Anyway. I love villains, I'm like the biggest sucker for them, and I enjoyed Vandal Savages's character in the show. I especially liked the banter and fight between him and Kid Flash in the episode "Coldhearted", which prompted this whole thing by the way, and well, villains-claiming-their-own-baby-heroes became a thing, centered around Vandal Savage and Kid Flash.

Um, yeah. Enjoy.

Totally disregarding the freaking 5 yr time skip btw. Uh-huh. Not even going to begin on that one.

They dragged Wally into the main room kicking and screaming.

Superman had him in a firm chokehold, his face sandwiched between a cement-hard bicep and forearm. Despite Wally's numerous shudders into super-speed vibration, hoping to induce painful friction burns, Superman was stalwart and unaffected. Wally might as well have been an infant trying to flip a 300 pound sumo wrestler over his shoulder.

"Let go!" He hissed. His voice was tight and strained to a higher octave than normal, due to the all-too common mixture of panic and pain. Superman shifted slightly, practically lifting him off his feet, his steel grip not budging even an increment. Wally bucked his body in a flexible maneuver, a frustrated snarl ripping through his chest. It was useless, he knew, because after all this was the frickin' Man of Steel and he was just stupid Wally West screwing stuff up again–

"Superman, it's me, it's Kid Flash, let go!" He knew reasoning would be fruitless–knew that the reverse-engineered devices, now crushed underneath Superman's boot to dust and minuscule fragments, had been their only shot.

And Kid Flash had blown it.

"Save your breath, boy." The deep voice was practically the rough purr of a contented cat, smug and arrogant and gloating. Wally knew it hadn't been Superman who had spoken. His hyperactive heart smoothly slipped into overdrive as realization dawned, sending adrenalin skittering through his veins. His body jerked again without his consent. HeneededtodosomethinganythingsomethingcomeonWallythinkthink–

Vandal Savage's face appeared briefly in his field of vision, the diagonal scars gleaming and ugly in the harsh fluorescent lighting of the space station. Superman's broad hand entangled itself in his bright hair, and with just a tiny flick of his wrist, send Wally skidding forward across the metal flooring. The impact was harsh and merciless on his already battered body. Wally felt a stinging twinge in his chest and inferred, with dismay, that his broken rib, mid-healing, had just snapped again. The pain stole the breath from his lungs even as his arms made abortive movements to lift himself off the ground, regain some dignity. A gloved palm, even larger than Superman's, buried itself in his red locks and forcefully jerked his head back. His scalp prickled painfully in resentment at the harsh treatment.

Eyes narrowed with pain, Wally made (reluctant) eye contact with Savage. The man (no, Wally corrected himself, the monster) was smiling. The emotion looked disturbing and out of place on the supervillain's face.

"It's been a while, boy," Savage said pleasantly, even as his arm slipped behind his wide back and brought forth a slender contraption. Wally's eyes flickered away from the satisfied face for a moment as they tracked the hand descending upon him, recognizing the loop dangling in the fingers–a metahuman collar.

"No!" he snarled uselessly as the hand in his hair shoved him to the ground. A massive boot clamped down onto his face not even a second later, collapsing him entirely and pinning him to the floor effortlessly, like one of the bugs that Wally's science class had fixed to the dissection board. The smell of rubber filled his nostrils and he wrinkled his nose, twitching under the weight of the criminal.

For once in his life, things were progressing too quickly for Wally to process.

Those fingers followed him down, securing the collar around his neck. The metal felt coldly malevolent pressing against the hollow of his throat. Maybe it was just Wally's imagination, but it seemed too tight, like every time he took a breath, it constricted just a little bit more. Something clicked–Wally felt the small vibration buzz against his skin–and then the world momentarily blurred as a strange sensation of profound weakness washed over him, through him, tugging him underneath the turbulent depths of his consciousness–

When he came to, he was limp, relaxed, his body curled on its side. There was a heavy weight compressing his ribcage, digging into his badly bruised skin. Voices were travelling overhead, in low, pleased tones, deep and slow and Wally was in so much pain and just so tired–

"Flash Boy is awake," a scratchy voice sniggered, uncomfortably close to his face. Wally felt hot breath roll over his face. Sharp nails dug into the skin of his face, forcibly turning his cheek to the side. His neck cricked at the uncomfortable position it was contorted into. He ripped his chin out of the grip, slurring out a grumble. The huge black boot pressing on his screaming side lifted momentarily, toeing him over onto his back. His limbs flopped uselessly over the hard ground.

"Indeed. And the others have been likewise secured?"

"Of course." The wicked, petulant voice from before, the one that sent icy sensations clawing up his spine. "Are you sure I can't just kill them, Vandal? Surely they're not useful to us! We already have the entire League under our command, what do we need their baby-heroes for?"

Wally's almond-shaped green eyes flickered open, half-mast, struggling to focus past the pain at his throat and blazing in his ribcage. He knew what was going on, could remember their mission, their failed last-ditch effort–Vandal, smirking, fastening a collar around his neck–then nothing–

A loud whooshing sound, and then, "Recognized: Lord Ra's al Ghul, Lex Luthor, Ocean Master, Queen Bee, Black Manta."

Not good, not good at all. Wally recognized every single one of those names and felt despair in his stomach like a ball of ice. How could they counter this turn of events? Every single one of those names was a hard-hitter, and the Team's concerted efforts had barely been enough to overcome even one of them.

He turned his cheek blearily, watching with something like panic and distress bubbling under a surface of shock as the infamous group approached. He was surprised by how quiet everything was; no crumbling Watch Tower going up in flames and smoke, no dramatic fights, no last-minute rebellions by some hero.

The villains… had won.

This wasn't supposed to happen. The good guys were supposed to win, the good guys always won.

"Congratulations Vandal," Lex Luthor, his smile sharp and wide like a slice of the moon, "and Klarion as well. You've both done excellently."

"I see the little tagalongs attempted to fight..." Wally's brows knitted together as he watched Queen Bee stoop over Miss Martian's unconscious figure, supervised by Klarion. When had they brought in Miss Martian? Wally had been the first one to enter the room, the first one captured by the mind-controlled League. His eyes flicked around the room, horror rising within him. Every single member of the Team was being held in magical cages constructed of Klarion's blazing red magic. Queen Bee laughed softly, running a hand through the green-skinned girl's thick hair. "How delightful. I must admit, I was almost beginning to think your plan would fail, Savage."

"I accounted for every anomaly," Savage replied indifferently, seemingly unruffled by Queen Bee's expressed lack of faith in his abilities. "Even for the... " the boot pressed down a little harder, and Kid Flash gasped wretchedly at the agony, "sidekicks."

"Speaking of them," Wally blinked away the instinctual tears, helpless as Ra's al Ghul gracefully stopped before the cage entrapping the unconscious figure of Robin. He tipped his head consideringly. "What have we decided to do with them? I, for one, would like to… keep… this one. Perhaps when the Detective breaks the control, because he will, Robin could provide considerable blackmail opportunity." He angled his cloaked shoulders to face the rest of the group appraisingly. "In fact, they could all be put away as hostages in case the mind control goes awry."

"Agreed," Lex Luthor joined. "But I as well have other purposes in mind, for the Superboy. I am partially responsible for his creation, of course. It would be impolite of me to abandon such a priceless project mid-way."

"Oh! Ooh! If we're keeping them, I want the magic girl!" Klarion chimed, his pupils scorching flames and his smile jaggedly upturned. His voice rose in pitch as he grew excited. "And the Flash Boy! I want them both!" He turned to the thoughtlessly strewn figure of Zatanna, cackling. "I'll make them my pets. Wouldn't you like that, Teekl?" The familiar mewed its agreement, rubbing its sleek head against Klarion's smirking cheek.

The boot still pinning Wally to the ground shifted fractionally, tearing agony through his rib. Wally couldn't suppress the broken mewl of pain that burst from his lips. The league of supervillains collectively chuckled at his discomfort.

"No, Klarion," Vandal Savage said amusedly. "I think… I shall keep this one. He and I have unfinished business from our encounter where I stalled him as a favor for Count Vertigo."

Oh no. No. Absolutely not.

Wally overcame his pain, brought through by the burning point of his humiliated rage. "Like hell," he snarled brokenly, twisting and grunting under the boot despite the stabs of white-hot pain that caused black dots to sway at the edges of his vision.

The next second, a kick was planted viciously in his side. Wally screamed at the explosion of pain, curling inwards and gasping. He glared upwards vaguely, defiant and unable to think clearly.

"Mind control?" Ra's al Ghul questioned smoothly as though Kid Flash's outburst had never happened, as Klarion let the cages fizzle away. Ra's bent over and captured Robin's slack chin in his hand, turning it to the side and examining it. Kid Flash snarled at the blatant handling of his best friend. He forced himself up, gritting his teeth, and began to crawl towards the Gotham Bird. His pride needled at him as the villains again laughed softly, but he forced it aside. He needed to get to Robin, his team. He had to make sure they were okay, had to get them away…

… he was so scared. He couldn't do this alone. He couldn't be the only one conscious to fight against The Light.

Slow, purposeful footstops. Vandal was circling him, watching him crawl with amused eyes. "Whatever method you see fit is suitable to me," Vandal said in reply to the master of the League of Shadows, though his gaze remained fixed on Wally. "As long as they remain–" his kick came again out of nowhere, solidly, knocking Kid Flash over "–firmly–under your thumb."

Wally couldn't get air in his lungs. The black fuzzies in his vision multiplied, momentarily sweeping him over. He blinked slowly to clear them, just in time to watch Ra's al Ghul throwing Robin over his shoulder, watch Klarion snap his fingers and spirit Zatanna away in a swirl of magic, watch Queen Bee wrench control of Kaldur's mind to make him carry Miss Martian, watch Luthor kneel by Superboy and whisper some kind of phrase in the clone's ear, some word that made Superboy's eyes snap open, all vacant and empty and mindless as he willingly stood on his own, complacent beneath Luthor's domineering hand on his shoulder.

"No," Kid Flash wheezed, gripping his side. He surged upwards off the floor, but his side screamed and he screamed in turn, back arching before he hit the floor again. His voice cracked on impact, momentum crippled. "NO! Robin! Superboy! Kaldur! Wake up! Miss M–"

A giant fist collided against his cheek. Kid Flash was spun over by the force of the blow, something structural in his face cracking. Stars burst in his vision. He hit the floor one final time and knew no more.

As Vandal Savage lifted the unconscious teen into the air by his distinctive orange hair, he smirked, head tipping back in victory. He had almost called a retreat from the Watch Tower, but now he was grateful that he had decided to see if the situation could be salvaged. He threw the placid figure over his brawny shoulder, listening to the abnormal heartbeat, so strong that Vandal could feel it even through his outer coat. A scene, months earlier, flashed through his mind; the boy, ignorantly defiant, glaring at him with acid-green eyes through lashing currents of thick snow.

Who knew such additional… prizes… could be wrung out of the victory, as well?

A hologram, obviously pre-programmed by the sentimental fools, materialized as the last member of the Light disappeared, leaving Vandal alone with the unconscious, beaten teenager in his grasp, standing straight and proud in the center of the admittedly magnificent viewing room.

"Happy New Year, Justice League," the mechanized voice said, broadcasting the time and date. January 1st. An insipid tune began playing, and though Vandal usually preferred more refined music, he relaxed and closed his eyes, letting the notes wash over him in sweet triumph.

Happy New Year, indeed.

A/N: Sleep-deprived authoress is sleep-deprived and would enjoy some reviews to revitalize her into continuing this. Also would enjoy more stories vaguely like these. But mostly the reviews.

Signing off.