Thaddeus was different than Damien Thorn. He was different than Lex Luthor. He was different than everybody Bart had ever disliked, everyone he had ever claimed to hate. Nobody had ever gotten the upper hand with him, not in the way that Thaddeus managed to do. Bart figured that the other speedster tried so hard because he actually, really despised him, hated him for what he was and what he stood for. Luthor had disapproved of him for what he was doing and who he was working with. Damien disliked him, but didn’t hate as Thaddeus did.
He’d been sure that he was going to die on that bridge. Bart had found out, when he was a kid, how an alternate version of himself went out. When crowded by the very people who had killed another Impulse, it was easy for him to believe that he would die the same way. Lashing out at him was the last thing he did before they had him, and turning his head to glare at him as he fled was the last thing he did before Superman carried him away from the onlookers.
Most of the time, Bart hadn’t wanted to be taken care of after that. He didn’t want to be coddled. He wanted revenge. He wanted to show Thaddeus that he was better than him. He hadn’t wanted Superman to find him, or Static or the Green Arrow. Thaddeus was his target and not theirs, and he told Virgil not to follow him, because he knew, knew before he was there, that he’d hurt Thaddeus. The Flash broke his jaw, hounded him relentlessly until he had no choice but to try to outrun him if he wanted to get out with all of his limbs intact.
He hadn’t made it. Bart had pulled him into the Speed Force after him and it was too much. He died and he vanished and Bart hadn’t known how to get out. It was after the third day that he realized he’d made a mistake. He’d wanted Virgil and Virgil couldn’t be where he was.
A year of nothing was lonely. Getting out was a miracle. It was the wrong time but it was freedom and there was Virgil and that was good enough for him.
Finally being able to see him, Bart rushed at him, not having the patience to walk like a normal person. The gust of wind at his back would give him away, but wasn’t really needed considering the source’s need to happily throw an arm around him.