A/N: Quick little story about the future. Thomas Grayson is (kinda) canon, but I forgot which Earth he is...he's from the comic Justice League: Generation Lost. Please review!

Run Run Run

The future isn't nice.

Bart Allen knows this. He's always known this. He grew up with this fact. He's lived with this fact. He just can't accept it, though. To think about the future and know that it's always going to be the same thing. It's always going to be like this.

Bart needs to change it.

The refuge center that Bart lives at is packed. There are always new people piling in even though the war had started almost over thirty years ago. Some were the people that hoped they could stay in their homes and hoped that the war would brush over. Then the roads were destroyed and it left many of the people stranded. Most came from other refuge centers that had been burned down or fell into a state of anarchy.

It was smart to avoid the big cities like New York City, Los Angeles, and Chicago. Those were the places where the gangs and anarchy were concentrated to the point where even going near the cities is almost certain death. It's why most stick to the smaller cities like Happy Harbor.

That's why Bart is always seeing new faces in the refuge center.

A new pair of green eyes, a flash of red hair, some boy with black hair, a young girl with dirt on her face rather than freckles, blue eyes, an older brother dragging two younger siblings behind him, a kid and his stray dog, an actual family, a boy covered in burns—it's all new and it all blends together.

It's the future.

All of the kids have the same stale taste of hope that's finally gone rancid. There's no point in hoping that something will change, that things will finally go right. It's been like this for thirty years. People haven't seen the sky in thirty years. Nothing's going to change that. No one is going to be able to. There's just no reason to hope anymore.

Bart…Bart knows that too.

Bart tugged up the collar of his jacket to cover his face and hoped to get some sleep before he has to give up his cot to someone else that's injured.

The radio statics on again and the room goes silent. All the chatter stopped and everyone turned their attention to the multiple radios that were positioned around the room. There's a radio that happens to be on a nightstand next to Bart's cot. He doesn't want to listen, though. The radio only comes on to announce more news that Bart doesn't want to hear. Not anymore.

"More news on the efforts to stop the war by the Justice League—the warheads in South Russia are disarmed—were called not a threat—but a cost—the efforts in the Southeast—cost more lives—no report on how many civilians are dead—with news of the death of numerous Justice League members—confirmed—attack against the League—from the—aliens from the other side of the—"

And then it goes to a list. As it always does.

"Sahar Shaheen, Shazam, dead—the Creeper, dead—Lian Harper, Green Arrow, dead—Plastic Man, dead—Martian Manhunter, dead—"

Bart tries to ignore the radio as it goes on listing more and more names. This. This is worse than last time.

"Damian Wayne, Batman, dead—"

Yeah. Way worse.

The cot sinks a little as someone sits next to him.

"Black Canary, dead—Irey West, Flash, dead—attack against the Justice League—Thomas Grayson, Red Hood, releasing statement—asking for any heroes—any metas that haven't been compromised—to help—to join the League—any legacies—especially—take up parents mantels—begging for more heroes—help—"

"I meant it when I said we need some more heroes."

Bart looks over his collar to see Thomas Grayson playing with the fringe of his jacket waiting for Bart to respond. "I've already contacted all of the Batman Inc—well, what's left. I think Lian's daughter is taking up the Green Arrow legacy. I'm having trouble contacting everyone, but—"

"We're the League now, and we have to do something. I know, Tommy," Bart finished. "Anything else?"

Tommy looked up; his blue eyes just a bit too wide as he stared back. The boy looked too much like his own father for his own good. He's seen the looks the older members of the Justice League—Damian Wayne in particular—used to give Tommy. Used to.

The whole League is dead now.

There's no one left to remember what Dick Grayson looked like.

That was going to change, soon.

"Yeah," Tommy finally says and stops messing with the seam of his coat and dug into his pocket to find something. Another kid ran by and nearly knocked the thing out of Tommy's hand. He held it for a second before he finally hands it to Bart.

The speedster instinct kicked in when he saw the ring. He nearly bolted right out of the room and halfway across the country, but Bart is too hungry and tired to actually make a run like that. He's always been too tired lately to run, so how is he supposed to be the Flash?

Bart started to twist his ankle as he does in most nervous situations. He just couldn't. He couldn't be Flash. He didn't want to be the Flash—a hero—to a world without a future. He didn't want to be the Flash; he just wanted to be Bart Allen. Just a kid that lived and helped out at the refuge center in Happy Harbor, Rhode Island and that's who Bart wanted to be.

"If we're gonna start a new Justice League, we need a Flash—"

"Barry was twenty-five, Wally was twenty-one, and Irey was twenty. I'm fifteen. I'm not ready. I can't be the Flash," Bart protested.

Tommy sighed and got up off of the cot, "I don't want to be Batman either, but we really don't have a choice."

"Tommy, I'm sorry about Damian, but—"

"No, it's fine. Just promise me you'll think about it."

"Tommy, I—I'll think about it."

Tommy flashed him a smile, "Thanks, Bart. Remember that Gotham is always open to you. Nightwing changed up the suit a bit. She'd probably like to see it—you," Tommy said and started weaving himself through the hoards of children to get through the refuge center.

Bart tried to tug his collar higher as a way to cut off all of the chatter around him. The people's gossip is just too much for Bart. He can hear the little kids trying to get answers from their older sibling and rarely a parent.

"Mel…Batman's not really dead, right?"

"Martian Manhunter can't be dead. He's supposed to live forever."

"If there's no Green Arrow, who's gonna protect Star City, Neva?"

"How can the Flash be dead, Mama?"

It went on and on. Question after question that the elders tried to answer. Bart sighed and got up out of his cot and let a brother and sister go to it. Their fight over who got to hold the pillow slowly droned away as Bart walked out of Mount Justice and out to the ocean.

Outside wasn't anymore comforting than the chatter that was going on inside. The sky that's always dark and the sea that's been darkened over the years from the ash that constantly fell from the sky. He's not really sure if anything anymore is comforting, whether it be being outside or is being inside in the cramped room. All Bart wanted was a bit of comfort.

The only comfort is that he might be able to change it.

That he will change it.

Bart flipped the ring around his fingers and finally slipped it on his ring finger. Tommy was asking him to be a hero to people who don't want heroes. To people who don't believe in heroes anymore. To people who don't have a future. No matter what anything Bart did, the future wasn't going to change. There was no more help. Bart didn't want to be a hero to that.

No…Bart couldn't be a hero to a place where there was no future. Bart could change that, though. He could give these people a future.

He just couldn't do it here.