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Flash Tormented	By : Cornacopia Category: DC Verse Cartoons > Justice League Views: 6193 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Justice League or any part of the DC universe, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Chapter 5
Day 4:
            In all the hundreds of injuries, pains, afflictions and wounds that Flash had experienced, he didn’t believe he had ever felt as bad as he did at the moment. He was bruised from the battle four days ago, there was still a tender spot on his head where he’d been knocked out, he was stiff from being tied to the chair for so long all of which only added to the agony of the electricity burns and his sore body. He was so unbelievably sore, and his head throbbed with a bottle-of-tequila sized headache. He could barely move anything below his navel without agonizing pain. He realized he hadn’t eaten in four days, and was surprised that with his metabolism he hadn’t died yet. Luthor’s drug must have slowed that down as well.
            Luthor.
            The older man had been ruthless and rough when he’d—Flash couldn’t bring himself to even think the word now that it had happened. He hated to think that Luthor had raped him. Not that there was any other way to say it, but it felt to Flash like he was some weak victim. ‘But, I guess I am,’ he admitted to himself. He hated that thought. And he’d even been forced to enjoy the beginning. He was supposed to be a hero, not a victim. He started to roll over on the soft bed, but a fresh wave of agony rolled through him and he pulled a pillow over his head instead. Once Luthor had finished with him, he’d redressed himself and left the trembling, bleeding mess of a hero whimpering, naked, and bound to the table.
            Tala had come in a short while later to find him still laying face down, mask still on. Wordlessly she cleaned him up with her magic and, leaving the mask on, had summoned Bizzaro to drag him to his current prison. This room was almost empty except for a bed, an empty nightstand, and a table and two chairs that were set on the wall opposite the bed. Connecting to this plain little room was a small bathroom. Flash had been dumped on the bed and left alone, which is where he remained an hour later, curled into a half-fetal position with his head hidden under a pillow, wearing only his mask and the pair of boxers that had been provided for him. He didn’t bother to stand up and check to see if they’d locked the door. He doubted he could run away even if it was open. He doubted he could even stand up.
            Flash let his mind wander to his friends. Were they worried about him? Surely they were working hard to look for him. But what would they think if they came and found him like this. He wondered if they’d treat him the same way when they found out what Luthor had done to him. He wondered if he’d be the same around them. His imagination took over and Flash played scenarios over in his head where the league came and rescued him, found out what had happened, and avenged him.
Another scene played out in his head, one in which they withdrew from him as though he had a disease, and wouldn’t even look him in the eye. Hot tears ran down his cheeks as he curled into a ball, wincing in pain as he did so. ‘Guys…’ he thought, ‘someone… please… save me.’
******
            “Did you feel that? J’onn’s eyes snapped open. Dr. Fate nodded slowly.
            “He’s reaching out to us. I feel his presence. But you know him better than I. Focus on him, try to make contact…”
            J’onn focused on the image he had of the person that was Flash. Shining, cheerful, annoying at times, he felt the connection, thin as eggshells, with Flash. Agony shot through J’onn’s whole body and he let out a yell.
            “ArrrggghhhH!!!” A flood of images, thoughts, and feelings ran through his mind, and he let go of the connections.
            “J’onn!!” Shayera shouted and rushed to catch the Martian before he collapsed.
            “What happened?” Fate asked, releasing the spell he was holding.
            The Martian held a hand to his aching head for a moment without speaking. Trying to sort through the mess of thoughts that he’d gotten from Flash. He had to refer to the knowledge in the other’s minds before he thought he understood enough about the situation. He felt sick. Martians never did such atrocious things to one another. This was a monstrosity of humanity that he had yet to encounter. He wasn’t quite sure how to tell the other leaguers what was happening to Flash. He also wasn’t sure if he should tell them. Flash certainly didn’t want them to know.
            “We need to get Flash back,” J’onn said after he’d recollected himself. He met Shayera’s eyes, and then Batman’s, trying to convey the severity of the situation to them without giving away information Flash might want to keep private. “I don’t know how much longer we will be able to save him before it’s too late.”
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Flash Tormented