If The Flash had really agreed to Wally's request, then he would not have been Barry Allen.
Barry would rather take risks himself than let those around him serve as bait. Losing his mother as a boy and seeing his father imprisoned had left a deep mark on him. He never wanted to watch another friend or family member leave him.
"Don't talk nonsense. Since you're willing to stay in prison, then behave yourself and don't do anything stupid." Barry stood up and looked at Wally solemnly. "I'll find a way to transfer you to another prison. Even a private cell beneath the Batcave would be better than this place."
"But that shadow..." Wally unwillingly reached out, trying to grab Barry through the glass.
"I'm not dead yet. Let your uncle handle it. You just be careful in there. If things get bad, ask the Rogues for help. For my sake, they'll look after you." The Flash puffed out his cheeks and let out a heavy breath before hanging up and turning away.
The crisis had only revealed a shadow within the Speed Force. When it would truly arrive remained unknown, but there was no time to waste.
After saying goodbye to the guards, Barry ran alone out of Blackgate Penitentiary, across the magnificent strait, and into Gotham City, where he found a lit spot and pulled out his phone.
"Hey, Oliver, do you know where Deathstroke is right now?"
"Which Deathstroke?" In the control room of the Hall of Justice, Green Arrow was studying some files. "There are three Deathstrokes on our Earth right now."
Barry rolled his eyes, turned beneath the streetlamp in speechless exasperation, and leaned against the pole. "Heh, very funny. I didn't contact you in the middle of the night to joke around. This is