Author's Note: Here we go with another chapter! Read, review, and enjoy!

WWWWWW

Wally was more nervous for this conversation than he had been for the one with Dick. And he'd gone into the one with Dick expecting a fight, so that was saying something. But Wally just couldn't get the image of the Rogues all staring at him in horror and fear out of his head. He couldn't shake the feeling of a man dying under his hands. He couldn't ignore the thought that Rogues don't kill and the idea that they probably found him repulsive now and didn't know how to show it. The idea of that killed Wally inside, but it was all he could think about.

Still, he went home as soon as he and Dick felt like they could extract themselves from each other without ripping their souls apart. He raced home and then stood in front of the door like an idiot, hopelessly nervous and anxious and afraid.

There was a chance that Wally would have never gone in if James hadn't slowly opened the door, peaking curiously through the crack. James brightened when he saw Wally and threw the door open as quietly as he could. James allowed the door to shut behind him and dragged Wally down so they were sitting cross-legged on the porch. Wally followed James' wordless instruction without protest. His words were locked in his throat, still.

James started talking before Wally could even try, "This is still your house. You can come in whenever you want, you know."

"I know," Wally answered evenly.

James glanced over at him, crooked smile lighting up his features, "Didn't seem like it, the way you were just standing there."

Wally hesitated before admitting, "It's not the place I was unsure of." Normally, he wouldn't say this kind of stuff to James. It just distressed him or increased his rambunctiousness or his down moods if he was having a medium or bad day. But he seemed relatively clear that day. There was a clarity that, since Wally was last there, seemed to be fading more and more each day.

James leaned against Wally's shoulder, "You never have to be afraid of us."

"Even when you're afraid of me?" Wally whispered. A shudder went through him as he tried to stop a sob from escaping.

James leaned away so he could look Wally in the face. He looked confused and concerned, "Afraid? We're not afraid."

Abruptly, Wally felt himself getting frustrated. Right. Of course. No one was afraid of him. That makes sense. They were just making those faces for the fun of it. Right. Wally stood up, prepared to ignore that part of the situation for as long as everyone else was apparently prepared to ignore it. Before he could get more than a couple steps away, though, James grabbed his ankle and yanked him back.

Wally scowled, but had no choice but to go back and sit on the steps. Childishly, Wally turned his head to the side, away from James.

"Wally, we're really, really, really not scared of you. Pinky promise! You just looked kinda scary with all that lightning. And, well, you don't really get mad, you know? Or if you do, it's not like that. We just didn't know how to react to something like that. It wasn't fear. Maybe fear is what it looked like, but we really just didn't know how to react," James tried to explain.

Taking a deep breath in, Wally tried to understand the situation from their point of view. It had been over two years since they had had regular contact with Wally. During that time, his powers had increased exponentially. He knew that. Like Bart said, the light show over his skin was probably a whole lot more impressive that time than it had been in the past. And, like Bart had said, people weren't used to seeing people mad. They were used to seeing Wally scowl and get irritated, but not mad. That wasn't an emotion that could really be applied to most speedsters. At least, not to the speedsters who were decent people. The truly awful speedsters were the ones who gave into rage and let it control them. Rage and the powers they had did not go well together.

Abruptly, Wally remembered Bart asking him if the others were afraid of him or if Wally was afraid of himself. After what James said? And everything that Wally had thought? It was starting to look more and more like the latter.

Wally let out a slow breath, scrubbing over his face tiredly, "Okay."

"Okay?" James asked slowly, "That doesn't sound like you believe me."

"I… I don't, James. I'm sorry, but I can't right now. My brain's so scrambled and sometimes I feel like I'm still stuck in that lab where no one even knows I'm alive and sometimes I feel like I'm still in the Speed Force and sometimes I can't even tell where I am and – and I can't believe that. But I'll… accept it. For now. Until I do believe it," Wally said.

James stared at him with tragic eyes, but Wally just focused on his hands. He was tired and he was scared. Scared of himself. Scared of the future. Scared of everything, apparently. Eventually, James stood up and offered his hand to Wally, "Come on, let's go back inside. Everyone's waiting for you."

"That's what I'm worried about," Wally muttered, but he still took James's hand.

Cautiously, Wally walked inside. It wasn't the safehouse he'd been staying at since the Rogues had gotten him back. He liked this one, though. It was one of their larger ones, with a huge backyard and no neighbors, way on the outskirts of town. He wondered what sort of things he'd left behind at this one. Sure, he'd gotten his memories back, but it had been two years since he'd been in any safehouses and they had a lot of them. It wasn't surprising that he couldn't remember where all his stuff was. A little sad, but unsurprising.

They were all gathered in the living room, quietly chatting about something or another. Their expressions were drawn and there were stress lines decorating some of their faces. Wally felt his heart clench when he realized that they were probably because of him. James bounded ahead of him into the room, crashing into Hartley and then just laying there, half on top of him as Hartley tried to push him off. Wally hovered in the doorway, hating how unsure and tentative he was feeling in his own home. He hadn't felt like this in a long, long time.

It didn't take long for someone to notice him. Cameron glanced over to the archway that served as a door and did a double take when he realized someone was standing there. He started coughing on his drink, trying to wheeze his way through his surprise. Wally smirked at him. As Cameron tried to stop coughing, some of the others followed his gaze to see Wally standing there. Still feeling awkward, Wally waved to them.

Digger rolled his eyes, "Get in here, ya gumby. What're you doing standing there?"

Wally blushed slightly, but still came further into the room, taking a seat on one of the unoccupied couches. The room lapsed into an awkward silence as Cameron finally got himself under control and no one else could figure out what to say.

Finally, Len broke the silence, sighing deeply and pinching the bridge of his nose, "How was your conversation with Dick?"

"It was good," Wally answered, "We talked about the Speed Force a little bit more and he told me what his concerns were. It's not – not solved, but it's as good as it's going to get as long as this Darkseid thing is hanging over our heads."

"Right," Len responded, "That's as good a place to start as any. What are your thoughts about Savage's plan?"

Wally winced a little, both at the reminder of the plan and at Len's blunt questioning technique, "I'm considering it. I want to look into other options, obviously, but as far as I can currently see, it looks like our best bet."

From across the room, Cameron threw his arms in the air, expression darkening to something that Wally wasn't sure he'd ever seen before. It was probably the angriest Wally had ever seen his brother. Len gave Cameron a warning glare before turning his attention back to Wally, "It looks like our best bet? Even when it means you'll die?"

"It's – it's not dying," Wally protested weakly.

Mark sighed, "Kid, would you be able to get out of the thing if you went back in it?"

"No," Wally admitted, voice small, "Probably not."

"Then it's the same thing as you dying, and we'll have to bury you again," Mark told him bluntly. There was a hard note in his voice. Wally took a moment to look around the room. All of them looked like that. They were angry and upset. And it was all Wally's fault.

Wally swallowed roughly and asked, "What else are we supposed to do? Let Darkseid win?"

"Ignore the problem!" Cameron burst out, "The heroes always win stupid things like this, don't they? They'll figure something out! You can't tell me that they don't have MFDs in there somewhere. Stick one of the other speedsters in there and use them!"

"How can you say that?" Wally asked, aghast, "What if they don't come out?"

"Then send another one in," Cameron responded, voice hard.

Wally threw his own hands in the air, "What was it that Mark just said? If I can't come back out of the Speed Force, then that's me dying, yeah? You're asking the heroes to potentially kill some of their own!"

"They're asking us to kill one of our own!" Cameron shouted back.

"And that's my decision!" Wally growled, "Taking away my part in this, the help that I could provide, that would be the same as me essentially killing some speedster. Even if they only need one to go through the process the first time and then come back out to defeat Darkseid, they're going to 'die.' And I know all the speedsters. I'm friends with all the speedsters!"

"So what?" Cameron asked, hands clenched into fists. A ring of ice was slowly spreading on the ground around him. Mick, who had been sitting nearby, resolutely stood up and walked to the other side of the room. Cameron visibly tried to calm himself before he tried again, "Look, you're not actually killing them. It would be their choice, the same way it would be your choice. Except they're actually heroes and they signed up for this. When they decided to be a hero, they decided that their job could possibly get them killed some day. It's an accord they came to with their families, as well. With us? We're villains, Wally. If there's any accord we came to, it was that we might be arrested one day, not killed. We didn't sign up for this. You didn't sign up to die and we didn't sign up to watch you die – twice. And don't try to argue that you 'didn't actually die' the first time. It doesn't matter that you weren't really dead. Because we thought you were dead. We were convinced that you were dead. There is a gravestone in the Rogue family plot with your name on it and an empty coffin buried underneath it. We had to – to carry that there and we had to watch you get buried and we had – had to go through that whole stupid funeral with all those people who lost you. Did you know that Central City mourned your death as well? Did you know that they dedicated a wing of the Flash museum to just you? There's a memorial there that people pay their respects to. Did you know that we had to go through all of that because you were dead?" Cameron was crying by the time he finished, tears that froze as quickly as they fell.

Wally felt his heart stutter in his chest. Cameron hated crying. He said it was painful and made him feel weak. Wally clenched his hands into fists and tried to think of what to say. What could he say? He wouldn't change his minds. He wasn't going to let Darkseid take over and hurt his family. He just wasn't.

Hartley took up the conversation next, "Wally, we know that you're trying to do the right thing and that you're… that you've always been a little more… heroic than the rest of us, but -,"

Wally interrupted him, "Is that your problem? You're upset because you think that I'm doing this to – what? Better the world or something? I'm doing this so you don't die! If Darkseid gets Halo and wins the battle, you all die. Or get mind-enslaved or whatever. You understand that, don't you? As far as I'm concerned, it's a question of whether all of us die or just me. And I won't let you die. This douchebag doesn't get to hurt my family."

"Was that your reasoning when you ran to Antarctica during the MFD fiasco?" Len asked mildly.

Wally scowled at them, "Of course it was. I mean, part of it was a little selfish, too. This is my world. I live here. Screw them for trying to destroy it. I like this planet." There was a range of dawning realization across each of the Rogues' faces. Had they all really thought otherwise? Wally felt a wave of hurt wash over him that he couldn't quite keep from his voice, "Is that what you thought of me? You thought that I – I died because I was trying to be a hero. Are you serious? How could you think that of me?"

Sam fidgeted in his seat, "I mean, it wasn't that much of a leap, was it? You're dating a hero. Your uncle is a hero. You're buddy-buddy with every heroic speedster out there. You even acted as a criminal informant for Red Arrow!"

"I'm dating Dick because I love him, not because he's a hero! If I had the choice, he wouldn't be, but I won't ask him to change either, just like he won't ask me to change. My uncle who I didn't get a choice in is a hero, yeah, but I consider you guys to be more of uncles than I consider him to be one. I'm closer to you guys. You know that. And of course I'm friends with the other speedsters! Do you know how weird it is to be a speedster? I had a lot of questions as a kid! And… and we've talked about how lonely it is. Are you really begrudging me the chance to – just for a little bit – not feel so crushingly lonely? And yeah, I'm a CI for Red Arrow. So what? His wife kills people! If that's heroism, then I don't want a part of it. I keep the really bad guys off the streets, and I get new ideas for heists and stuff. Besides, he's retired now anyways. There will be no more CI work. Happy?" Wally growled. They thought he was trying to be a hero.

And, yeah, heroes weren't bad or whatever. Supervillains wouldn't really exist without them. The Rogues had a healthy respect for heroes. But that didn't mean that it wasn't still insulting to be called one. Wally wasn't a hero. He never wanted to be a hero. He was perfectly happy causing mayhem and stealing stuff. If he ever did world-saving activities, then they were done with a selfish motive.

The fact that the Rogues didn't know that – hadn't known that, apparently, at any point that they'd been together – stung. What had they thought of him the entire time he'd been with the Rogues? Had they always thought of him as a – a hero? Had they always believed that he was just using crime as a… a what? Adrenalin rush to keep his high between saving people? That was ridiculous! Absolutely ridiculous! Wally was a supervillain. Sure, for some people, that wasn't anything to be proud of. But it was here. And Wally was proud. He would always be proud. Being a supervillain was what he was born to be, and he'd love doing it until the day he died. Even Dick knew that. It was why he didn't push Wally to change. To know that Dick understood that, but the Rogues didn't? That hurt. A lot.

Even though he knew it would hurt, Wally had to ask, "How long have you been thinking this kind of stuff?" The way the group fidgeted and wouldn't meet his eyes told him everything. Wally flung himself to his feet, ready to run, ready to leave and screw them. Len grabbed his arm before he could take a step though, voice cold when he commanded, "Sit down, Wally."

Wally considered resisting. He would never hurt Len, but he was fast enough now that he could just phase right through Len's arm and leave. It wouldn't be hard. He'd be gone before anyone had even realized he was still trying to leave.

Instead, though, Wally took in a shuddering breath and sat back down. He didn't look at the other Rogues, though. They'd hurt him with their assumptions and their words. He didn't think they'd ever really hurt him like this before. He wasn't a superhero. He didn't want to be a superhero. He just wanted his family to be safe.

Len spoke into the silence that had fallen over the room, "Clearly, there have been some misunderstandings. Wally, you need to understand something about what Cameron said. As far as he's been concerned, you working with the heroes is what caused you to die. Now it's about to do the exact same thing. And before you get snippy with me, listen to my words. He thought that working with the heroes is why you died. Nothing else. That's why your relationship with various heroes makes him nervous. Now, you also need to understand something about what the rest of us said. We do not begrudge you feeling any sort of way. The fact of the matter is, you have a lot of connections with heroes. More than any of us do. It wouldn't be… odd for you to want to help people."

"I'm a villain," Wally said flatly. There was an angry, dead quality in his voice that he hadn't heard since he was a kid. The other Rogues flinched away from the noise.

"We know that," Mark soothed, "But it wouldn't have seemed, ah, strange for you to want to be something else. Even if you weren't!"

"I'm a villain," Wally repeated, hating the sound of tears clogging his throat, "I don't want to be anything else. I want to be a supervillain. With my family. I have never wanted anything else."

To his side, Len closed his eyes, looking like the weight of the world was pushing him into the recliner. The rest of the Rogues didn't look much better, expressions even more drawn than they had been when Wally had come in.

Was Wally really that bad of a supervillain? Had he really done so many things incorrectly that they could think this of him? He'd always believed that he was doing okay, that he was at least adequate in his job as a supervillain, if not good. Was that wrong? Had he just been pulling them back this whole time? The Rogues had a reputation in the criminal underworld of being soft and so grey they were almost good. The villains in Central City knew otherwise, of course. The supervillains who had tried to take over from the Rogues, believing they were too heroic to do anything, learned the lesson the hard way. The Rogues were supervillains and they weren't afraid to show it. But had Wally been dragging their name down this entire time? Had his actions, his missteps as a supervillain been the reason that the Rogues had to fight so hard for the villainous status?

Maybe, for the sake of the team, for their reputation and their ability to work with other groups, maybe it would be better if he died fighting Darkseid.

He hadn't realized that he'd said that out loud until Hartley was in his face, crying and clutching his shirt, "Don't you dare say that! Never say that! We would never ever be better off if you were dead! You're so – so…" Hartley trailed off. After a second, he pulled his hands away from Wally's shirt and dragged him into a hug instead, crushing him into Hartley's chest. Hartley cried into Wally's hair and, after a second, Wally started crying into Hartley's shirt.

He didn't know how long they sat there like that. At some point, the rest of the Rogues joined in, either throwing themselves onto the hug like James and Cameron or just adding a comforting hand to the pile like Sam or Mark.

When they all finally pulled away, Len stared at Wally seriously, "I promise you are not going to die, Wally."

Wally frowned, echoing Dick's words, "Don't make promises you can't keep."

Len didn't stop his intense stare. After a moment, he repeated the words he said years and years and years ago, on the second day Wally had lived with the Rogues. He said it with the same level of sincerity and weight as he'd said it then (and he'd been telling the truth back then), "I don't make promises lightly, kid."

Wally took in a shuddering breath. This difference between this time and last time was that, this time, Wally believed him. So, instead of just nodding dully, Wally looked Len in the eyes and said, "Okay. I won't die, then."

"Good," Len said, one of his gentler smiles making an appearance.

Digger coughed to get Wally's attention and then, quietly, apologized, "Look, kiddo, I'm sorry we thought that about you. And I'm sorry that our words and thoughts have hurt you so much. It was never meant to hurt you." Wally nodded to him, unable to speak through the tears clogging his throat again.

One by one, the rest of the Rogues echoed Digger's statement, earnest and serious and so determined to make sure that Wally knew that they never wanted to hurt him. It didn't take away all the hurt he was feeling, but it helped. A lot. And, well, this was his family. Wally was pretty sure that he'd forgive them for anything, eventually.

When the apologies stopped, James spoke up, "There's something else I want to apologize for." Everyone glanced over at him curiously, but Wally felt his cheeks heat up. He was pretty sure he knew what this was about. And sure enough, James said, "Wally ran after confronting that evil scientist because he thought we were scared of him. I want to apologize for making you feel that way, Wally. You're a supervillain, but you're our supervillain and I know you'd never hurt us."

"We weren't scared," Sam assured him instantly, "I promise you that we weren't. Wally, it was worrying more than anything. You don't get that worked up ever. But you got so mad at her. I'm not sure I really understand why you got that mad, but it was concerning."

Wally swallowed and then admitted, "There – there are two reasons I got so upset. The lesser one was, well, Tara is my sister now. She kept me sane in there and even though she was so scared of Deathstroke, she'd speak up sometimes to try to get me better conditions. But I… I was fairly useless. There really wasn't much I could do. I could make her happy, though. I could redirect Slade's anger. I could make sure that Tara got out of that situation and ended up free. Then Dr. Jace came around and was making Tara unhappy again and I was just – sick of people doing that to her. But… more than anything, the reason I got so upset is because… Dr. Jace assumed that experimenting on these children and hurting them and ruining their lives made them her children. And that was just so uncomfortably close to Luthor's obsession with me that I just felt sick, down to my core. And Luthor had just killed Ben and broke into the Watchtower to get me back and sometimes I feel like I'll never be free of him and I just spent so much time under his thumb again and I just – I couldn't handle it anymore. I couldn't handle the thought of another person thinking like Luthor did. I couldn't."

There was heartbreak written across their faces. It made Wally shift uncomfortably. He knew that he'd had an arguably tragic life, but so had most of them. They didn't need to look at him like he was two seconds away from breaking, like he was – Wally took a deep breath to calm down. He was getting worked up and lashing out, even if it was only in his mind. His latest stint with the Light had messed him up, more than he wanted to admit. The worst part was that he wasn't really doing much healing, either. There were so many things happening and so much to catch up on after two years that he'd hardly had a moment to just exist and come to terms with everything that had happened to him. The lack of rest was making him short-tempered and surly.

Mick closed his eyes, pain written across his brow, "Never again, kid. Luthor's out and they've got enough dirt on him to bury him for eternity. You're not his kid. You're ours."

Wally gave Mick a wan smile, "Okay."

Sam squeezed Wally's knee reassuringly, "You really are our kid, Wally. We'll never be afraid of you, okay? I promise."

Wally's lips wobbled and, before he could stop himself, he whispered, "Even though I killed someone?"

Sam breathed in quickly through his nose. He didn't answer, instead just pulling Wally into a hug. It was Len who eventually spoke, voice gentler than normal, "Most of us have killed someone, Wally. And for a whole lot less noble reasons than you did. Dick showed us the video and Tara talked to us about it. We know that you were just trying to protect her. And even if you weren't, it would still be okay. Now, don't do it again unless you have to, but that one? It's okay. We won't judge you for it or look down on you or anything of the sort. You did what you had to do, and we are proud."

Wally had thought he was out of tears, but it turned out that he really, really wasn't.

Author's Note: Hm… I like this chapter but I'm also a little unsure about it? Like, mostly I'm worried that the conversation about heroism and villainy didn't come across like I want it to. It's hard to explain Wally's reasoning when most people are just, like, inherently good and don't find being called a hero insulting. But hopefully I explained it well enough, haha. Thanks for reading!