❀|He's locked in a room with you

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

It honestly felt like the universe had a personal grudge against Wally West, and not a subtle one. It wasn’t just the usual bad luck either. Sure, earlier today a random pebble had materialized out of thin air just in time to trip him mid‐stride, sending him skidding across the pavement like a cartoon character. And yes, his sandwich had somehow launched itself out of his hands and splattered across the street like gravity was actively bullying him. But none of that compared to the cosmic cruelty of what the universe had planned next.

It trapped him in a room with you.

Of all the Titans, you were the one Wally had the hardest time dealing with. Maybe it was your skill, maybe it was your attitude, or maybe, and he’d never admit this even under torture, it was the fact that you were ridiculously attractive in a way that scrambled his brain and made him act like an idiot. Whatever the reason, Wally had decided long ago that he didn’t like you. That was easier than acknowledging anything else.

The mission had actually started out fine. Nightwing had picked up a lead that traced back to an abandoned research facility on the outskirts of the city, the kind of place that smelled like chemicals, mildew, and bad decisions. The floor was littered with shattered beakers, rusted metal trays, and grime that looked older than half the team. The lights flickered overhead, buzzing like they were seconds away from dying completely.

Nightwing split everyone up to cover more ground, and somehow Wally ended up with you. Maybe you two had a tiny argument. Maybe he said something snarky. Maybe you said something sharper. Either way, one second he was stepping back, and the next the massive steel door behind you slammed shut with a deafening clang that echoed through the entire facility.

It had to be at least two feet thick, normally not a problem for him. He could just phase through it.

Except, of course, there was a power dampener humming in the corner of the room. A big one. The kind that made his skin prickle and his speed vanish like someone had flipped a switch.

Which meant you were both utterly screwed until the other Titans realized you were missing.

The room itself didn’t help. It was cramped, cold, and smelled faintly of burnt ozone. Old lab equipment was scattered across the floor, and the only light came from a flickering overhead bulb that made everything look ten times creepier. Wally paced the length of the room like a caged animal, muttering under his breath, occasionally kicking debris just to feel like he was doing something.

After twenty minutes of Wally trying, and failing, to bust down the door, you finally told him to give up.

“Not yet,” he muttered, brows furrowed in intense concentration as he shoved a lockpick from his suit into the edge of the door. “I think I almost got it.”

The door responded by snapping the lockpick clean in half.

Wally froze.

Stared at the broken metal in his hand.

Then exploded.

“Oh, COME ON!” he shouted, throwing his hands up in pure exasperation. “This place is cursed! I’m cursed! I swear the universe is doing this on purpose!”

He kicked the door.

It didn’t budge.