A/N
Because of the awesome feedback I got from my last fic, (A Rush of Air) I have decided to write a sequel :)
This one, as my last one was, is a bit morbid. More Waltemis. More 'Dark Wally' as some of you put it.
This isn't a one-shot. It's a full-out story. I probably won't update for a week or so because of band, this stupid math contest that I didn't sign up for, (Urgh… I'm giving up my Saturday for it.) and an essay in English. I also have another story that I should be updating…
Disclaimer: I don't own Young Justice, nor do I own DC Comics.
Prologue
All he wanted was fire. He wanted to see it flicker, jump, dance… devour. He wanted to feel its' warmth, its' comfort, its' danger, its' temptation.
Once it was in front of him, he couldn't look away. He just couldn't. He could feel it entering through his eyes and pulsing through his body, feeling like water. Maybe if he moved, he could feel it sloshing around. But, he couldn't. He couldn't move. He couldn't even think. All he could do was stare straight ahead.
All he wanted was fire.
Artemis sat beside him, not touching him at all. She was hugging herself tightly—too tightly—and was hunched over in pain, although nothing appeared to be wrong with her.
Robin was adding another log to the fireplace, the only one they had in Mount Justice in a small, almost forgotten room. They were only here because they didn't want Wally to freeze or overheat, since he couldn't speak at this point in time. He fit the block of wood between an old piece and a pile of embers and he poked it around with his fingers before it cracked and a hot ash flew out at him.
"Hot!" He muttered, brushing it off of his civilian clothes. "What I do for you, Wally, I swea—" He began to say, but when he turned around and caught another glimpse of his best friend, he stopped short. He had been trying to make himself forget.
He crossed the five steps between them and gently laid his hand against the speedsters' forehead, checking for a temperature. It was the opposite: cold, almost ice cold. Robin grimaced and stepped behind him, walking the necessary distance around his two teammates and sitting in the chair beside the archer that he had been seated in only a moment ago.
Moments passed. Robin staring straight ahead, Wally staring at the fire, Artemis staring at Wally.
Finally, someone broke the silence.
"What did they say?" She asked, her voice hollow and broken.
Robin laughed coldly. "I've already told you. Over and over."
"I wasn't listening the last time."
He looked over at her, confusion masking his sight briefly. The Boy Wonder had no idea what was going on with her, and he found it weird. He always had everyone figured out, and she was an exception. Wally was an exception, too, nowadays, and he was especially one now.
He sighed and shook his head. "It's a new formula. Batman's trying to isolate certain chemicals and toxins to find out an antidote, and Flash says that it's not needed, due to Wally's super-metabolism. It should be out of his system completely by next week."
Artemis stood up abruptly, and without warning, she screamed. Loudly. This made Robin jump, and, of course, Wally didn't respond at all.
"Next week? Do you see how he is right now? He's not like himself! He's—He's cold, unresponsive, scared, quiet, and above all—insane! Do you know how much it's hurting him? How much it's hurting me?" She demanded, and Robin could only sit there, speechless.
Without another word to him, Artemis kneeled in front of Wally. Tears streamed down her face as he simply kept staring into the fire, not even aware that she was there.
"Wally? Wally, please! Can you hear me? Please, just say something! Call me a name, insult me, anything!" She yelled, gripping his shoulders. She couldn't bring herself to shake him, though. It seemed too cruel—like kicking a puppy.
And then, Robin understood. Artemis was in love with Wally. He had no idea if the speedster felt the same.
That only left one thing for him to be in the dark about:
What had happened to them, to make their outlooks on each other change so drastically?