TENEBRIS ~ Young Justice

6 ~ Is It Time To Repent, Yet?

I didn't remember falling asleep after my argument with Nightwing, so I was was somewhat disoriented when I suddenly woke up in bed with a cold washcloth on my forehead. My eyes studied the dark ceiling for a moment before I rubbed my eyes with the palm of my hand. 

"Oh, good! You're awake."

My breath hitched in my throat and I quickly sat up, ignoring the pain in my shoulder as I pushed myself up against the headboard. The ice-cold washcloth fell into my lap, and I winced as the cold, wet object made contact with my skin bare skin; however, my face twisted even further at the sudden headache that formed in my right temple. 

"Who's there?" I snapped, trying my best to see through the darkness. I could've tried moving the shadows aside, but my unexpected headache was messing with my ability to clearly concentrate. And, the voice didn't quite seem threatening; in fact, it sounded more...enthusiastic. 

"Relax, BM, it's just me!" The kid from earlier appeared at the foot of my bed, still dressed in his red and beige suit. My eyes landed on the boy before shifting to my door, which was still closed. 

"U-Um, what are you doing in my room?" I muttered, looking back to the boy. He suddenly jumped up onto the bed, the force of the bounce causing me to tip forward on the mattress. I landed on my good arm, shooting him a scowl as I pushed myself back upright.

"Ope, sorry," he murmured sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. I just shook my head with a tired sigh. He then sat cross-legged at the end of my bed, close enough that our feet were nearly touching.

"Kid, you seem nice and all, but please tell me why you're in my room," I replied, narrowing my eyes a bit as I rubbed at my throbbing temple. The kid averted his gaze. 

"Well, I want to point out that I'm totally not a creepo, but I vibrated right through the door; it was actually quite easy." He smiled proudly, and I recalled when Nightwing had told me about how the kid had escaped by phasing through the handcuffs. 

"Then, I guess it's safe to assume you have superspeed, seeing as you can vibrate your molecules at such an alarming rate." The kid nodded enthusiastically. "So, now that that's been taken care of, who are you?" 

"I'm Bart Allen, grandson of Barry Allen, but you can call me Bart, Bart Allen, Impulse, Bart Impulse Allen; it's all crash," he replied, grinning confidently as he counted off on his fingers. I blinked. 

"Wait, 'grandson'?" I frowned. "Allen doesn't even have any kids." Bart, I'd decided to call him, let out a scoff, folding his arms over his chest.

"I'm from the future, babe." My mouth fell open. 

"That's not possible. Time travel?" I whispered, shaking my head, and I immediately regretted it as the headache throbbed in my skull. I dug my fingers into my temples, whispering silent curses to myself.

"Believe it, Adrienne," a deeper voice, though not much deeper than Bart's, came from beside the door. I lifted my head and scoffed as Nightwing emerged from the shadows, stepping up to my bed. 

"Why do you guys insist on breaking into my room at--" I paused so I could reach over to my nightstand and grab my phone, but it wasn't where I'd left it. I felt around for it on the mattress before I took hold of the blanket that had been covering my body. It didn't feel right.

"We're not in my room, are we?" I deadpanned, and Bart shook his head. I let out a loud, whining groan as I buried my face in my hand.

"Where am I?" 

"Well, that's kind of my fault," Bart murmured quietly. He gave me an apologetic look before glancing at Nightwing.

"I wanted to formally introduce the two of you," said Nightwing, gesturing between me and Bart, "so I brought him back to the Cave after he left Central City. But, when we got back to your room, you weren't responding, even when I knocked."