<div class="floatleft">(https://artfiles.alphacoders.com/650/thumb-65069.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Superman<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Watchtower - Infirmary<br/><strong>Date/Time:</strong>October 18, 2017, 0900<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Flash, Open<br/><strong>Content:</strong>Superman is in deep thought. Unlike in the picture, he is standing.<br/><hr/><br/>Barry Allen; The Flash; The Fastest Man Alive; bedridden. The dark-haired blue-eyed hero was quiet as he watched his comrade sleep. He had been standing in the room for a while trapped in meditation and recollection. With how strong and fast he was always praised to be, why couldn’t Superman arrive in time to save Barry Allen? Flash had made them all realize how precious each of Earth’s heroes were. They couldn’t afford to have them fall one-by-one to criminals, especially since it was now apparent that the villains had the idea to unite before the heroes did—irony. Irony that nearly cost the life of one man; one friend.<br/><br/><em>This is my fault.</em>It had been on his conscience. If he hadn’t been engrossed in establishing his own individual presence, if he had thought about others, then the Justice League could have come to fruition sooner. Why did that idea require Doctor Fate? It should have been proposed from the start. Why did it have to be at Flash’s expense? Well, it could have been at any of their expense. Superman was zoned out, staring back into his thoughts. Three villains ganging up on one…<br/><br/>His eyes closed, his brows furrowing as he felt the strong sympathetic pangs for revenge. It made his hands slowly ball into tight fists, his steel-sturdy muscles creaking. He couldn’t keep thinking these thoughts. They had put the villains away. They had done enough. Had they? Seeing Flash fighting for his life didn’t seem like a fair deal. No one should have to die.