LATE APRIL 2002 - #33

Old Man Winter by Paul Hahn

The music played in his head. It was almost eerie . . . a sort of jewelry box music. The room in which he stood was made completely out of ice. His entire home was made completely out of ice. It sat on the bottom of the Atlantic, believe it or not . . . though not far in the Atlantic. Just off the coast of Maine. The water was cold enough there that a structure of solid ice, carefully maintained, was able to exist easily.

It was quite a large complex. But there were almost no inhabitants. One man, really. His name was Victor Freeze. Ages ago, or so it seemed to him, he was a scientist. A careful, cool-headed, calculated man. He worked along side Barry Allen, a scientist of physics: speed and motion. Speed, especially. Barry was the second Flash, a super-fast super-hero. They were partners . . . friends.

Victor had a wife, Nora. To him, she was the most beautiful woman in the world. He loved her more than life itself. And she loved him. Just the site of her was enough to bring him ultimate joy. One smile was all she needed to show him, and he was happy. But then, it happened. She was diagnosed with cancer.

It was a brain tumor. Completely inoperable. She would die in a matter of months, no matter what. Barry and Victor worked constantly to try and help her . . . but they could come up with nothing. Finally, they came to the option of Cryogenics. Using a reverse theory on the 'Speed Force', that which grants super-speed, Barry and Victor found a way of slowing down molecules, of turning things into ice. If they could freeze Nora, they would keep her from dying . . . keep her in perfect condition until a cure could be discovered. Nora agreed to it. It was to be done.

But something went horribly wrong.

Nora wasn't merely put in cryogenic stasis. She was frozen. She was dead.

It devastated Victor. Barry as well. Victor's heart died with her. For two years after that, Victor continued his work, despite the pain. He lost himself in his research. But there was only so much he could take. His mind began to slip . . . he began to fall into insanity. He killed Barry.

He even tried to kill Barry's legacy. His adopted son, Wally, had become a new Flash. Victor tried to give himself the same powers . . . but it didn't work as expected. The technology which he had created to slow down time burned and scarred him. He created a suit to protect him, to keep him alive. He needed always to be inside a containment suit, at a temperature of nearly absolute zero. He devised a gun to slow down molecules and freeze things. He wanted revenge on all of Barry's legacy . . . but he failed.

The new Flash defeated him. He would have been in jail, if he didn't manage to escape from his initial capture. After which, he went into the Atlantic, building his fortress of solitude, as it were. It was made almost completely out of ice, yes. Except for one major thing: The cyro-chamber that housed his dead wife. It sat in the middle of the complex. His wife Nora floated inside it, having not aged a day since the experiment was done.

Victor lived in eternal, unendurable pain. Not just physical . . . emotional. He had wanted to save his wife . . . but instead, he doomed her. He would give anything to have her back. After all, she was frozen at the moment of death. It was always possible that her heart could be made to beat again. But Victor was too overwhelmed with pain.

So for many months he did nothing but sit with his beautiful wife . . . mourning . . . contemplating. Until one day, he began to compose a theory. The Flash's 'Speed Force' was the exact opposite of his ice powers. If Victor's technology was the opposite of the Flash's powers . . . then maybe the Flash's powers would be the perfect thing to bring her back?

But Flash had already beaten him once before. Would he really stand a chance against him?

Wait! Flash had a younger brother . . . Barty. Bart . . . who also had the 'Speed Force'. Bart Allen . . . Impulse. A younger, less experienced speedster . . . he could be beaten. And though Impulse's death would be forfeit, it just might be what Victor needed to save his wife.

The music in his head grew louder. He almost allowed himself to grin. It was the sweet sound of redemption . . . redemption within his grasp . . .

End Prologue.

"That's about the last of them," Red Tornado said as he walked back into Chuck's room. "The Avengers League arranged hospitals and medical care for every last Morlock survivor we had. I'm not quite sure how they managed to pull it off, but they did."

"We're grateful for all their help," Chuck said from his chair. "And I'm grateful that I can move around freely again."

"But we've still seen no signs of Bart getting any better," Red frowned. "I've run every scan I can think of . . . but to no avail. I even asked Flash, and he could offer no help."

"There's got to be some way to slow him down," Chuck frowned. "One of Flash's enemies?"

"Pardon?"

"Flash had to of had some enemy that found a way to slow him down," Chuck said. "If we could find someone like that . . . "

"Use a villain to save a hero?" Red asked. "Not the safest idea . . . "

"But it could work," Chuck nodded. "And Kon?"

"He's improving," Red said. "His powers are still dangerously weak. But he's healing. His power degradation seems to have been occurring for some time . . . before the massacre even occurred. I asked him if he was aware of this, or if it was possible, and he said no."

"Hmm . . . " Chuck thought. "I'll look into it. And, Reddy . . . ? Thanks. For everything."

The Tornado nodded, then turned and left.

Chuck Barnes was alone with his thoughts again. He had spent too much time alone with them, lately. He did his best . . . but still, he constantly blamed himself for the deaths of Wonder Girl and Jade. They were on his team . . . he led them . . . he let them down. No; he had to stop thinking like that. What happened, happened. And though he would give his own life to see it undone, it couldn't be. It was best that he move on. For his own sake . . . and the sake of the team. There was still work to be done.

None of the boys were up to one-hundred percent. They knew very little about the Spoiler, and even less about Rebel. The mystery of the Phoenix continued. And as for the being behind the massacre of the Morlocks . . . the being called Cerebro? They were still totally in the dark.

Chuck began to stretch again. He stretched every waking hour, now. He had taken a beating. Though it had been a week, he was still far from the shape he used to be in. He stretched constantly to get his flexibility back. He did push-ups, sit-ups, pull-ups . . . some weight lifting. He knew if any of the others were to see him, they'd tie him to his bed. But he couldn't just sit still. Unlike the rest of the team, he didn't have any super-powers. He needed to be in top physical shape at all times . . . or else he was just another ordinary man.

"Chuck?" Cissie King-Jones asked as she popped her head in the door. "What do you think you're doing out of bed?"

"Stretching," he replied. "I'm not confined to my bed . . . or my room. I'm an adult . . . I can do what I want."

"If you're an adult, why're you on Young Justice?" Cissie asked.

"You know what I meant," Chuck frowned. "Y'know, you still sound uncomfortable saying my name."

"I guess I'm just so used to calling you Rob," she shrugged. "I had kinda told myself that your name was Robert. Chuck's kinda different. Wouldn't Charles be better?"

"Only Batman calls me Charles . . . and only when he's royally pissed at me. Chuck's just what I'm used to."

"Chuck . . . it's just sorta childish . . . "

He cleared his throat. "Was there a reason for the visit, other than to yell at me and make fun of my name?"

"Not really," Cissie replied. "That was about it. But now that I'm actually inside the room . . . "

Chuck shook his head and sat onto his bed as Cissie walked in.

"Y'know, I was wondering," she started, "what's your connection to this Spoiler character?"

"Meaning . . . ?"

"How do we know we can trust her? She knows all our secret identities now . . . a lot about all of us. She came out of nowhere . . . and you seem willing to trust her implicitly! And when you speak to her, you sound different . . . "

"Do I detect a hint of jealousy?"

"What? How dare you even suggest such a thing?"

Chuck laughed as he grabbed his remote, turning on a tv in the room to the news.

"Jealous . . . hmph," Cissie frowned.

"Looks pretty cold out there," Chuck said, changing the subject and watching the news.

"Cold?" she asked. "I was just out there two hours ago . . . it was actually warmer than usual . . . "

"There's ice all over," Chuck said. "It's Manhattan . . . really low temperatures."

"That doesn't seem right . . . turn up the volume."

Chuck nodded and did as she said. The report suddenly came in:

"--In the chopper now, going for an aerial shot . . . repeating this breaking news story: Manhattan is becoming encased in ice! The source is unknown, but it is believed to be caused by a mutant or a metahuman. We know this because of the giant words written in ice covering Central Park. We're getting a full shot now . . . "

"Good god," Chuck said.

"Whoa . . . "

Central Park was completely covered by white ice. And in the middle, elevated high above the rest of the ice, were giant letters forming one giant name: Impulse.

"Impulse is a member of the super-team Young Justice," the news report continued. "His involvement in this is unknown, but this Junior Avengers League has often been mired in controversy . . . are they truly against the people of this city? Or is this another insane plot against them?"

"Someone wants Bart's attention," Chuck said.

"Someone now has YJ's attention," Cissie commented.

"Gather up the girls . . . get 'em in uniform. I'll talk to Kon and Bart . . . we'll move out in ten."

"We?" Cissie asked. "You can't be serious . . . you guys aren't going anywhere."

"We're needed."

"I know we are," Cissie said. "But let Arrowette, Jolt, Firebird, Rebel and . . . the . . . Spoiler . . . handle it. You guys need to recuperate. If we need to, we'll call in Red Tornado."

"Whoever's behind this wants Impulse."

"Which means he or she will be preparing an ambush for a Speedster," Cissie continued. "Us girls won't be expected."

" . . . I shouldn't let you do this."

"But you will, anyway," Cissie said, standing. "And we appreciate it. We'll take the Cycle."

Chuck nodded. "Be careful . . . keep us posted."

"We will. And Chuck . . . ? Thanks."

"It's gonna get really cold," Spoiler said.

"That's why I told you to put on those jackets," Firebird said as she piloted.

"Could this maybe be the Icemaster?" Arrowette asked.

"You've dealt with him before?" Spoiler asked.

"Er . . . no," Arrowette said, catching herself. "But Chuck said he had . . . with you."

"Of course," she nodded. "But he never encountered Impulse, as far as we know. And he seemed more psychopathic . . . less likely to do something this calculated for just one target."

"I see it," Arrowette said, her keen eyesight picking up the large, ice-sculpted 'Impulse'.

"I'm taking us in," Firebird said. "Keep your eyes pealed . . . be ready for anything."

The Cycle landed gently on the ice, its large, alien wheels keeping it from skidding. The five girls dismounted with ease, each wearing extra winter clothing.

"It's quiet," Jolt said. "Too quiet . . . this place should be bustling with scared and confused people . . . "

"I told Chuck this was probably an ambush," Arrowette said.

"Well . . . let's try the obvious approach," Firebird said. "Hello? Anybody home?"

"Yes," a voice replied. The ice several yards ahead of them exploded upward as a man in a black containment suit rose from underneath it, standing upon a column of solid ice. "Where is Impulse?"

"He's not here," Arrowette said. "Who are you?"

"Me?" he asked. He pulled out his gun. "My name is Mister Freeze . . . "