In two days it will have been a month. A month of strange dreams, consistently, every night. Not just strange, but the exact same dream. For Wally, who had trouble sleeping most days and usually had dreamless rests, this was especially odd. If he believed in superstition, he would have looked into websites on dream meanings. But he wasn't, exactly, so he went on not knowing.

The dreams were warm. At first it was faint, like sitting next to a window that sunlight filtered through. He enjoyed those dreams because he felt content. At home.

Those dreams didn't last long. It felt like the moment he feel comfortable with these dreams, started looking forward to them, they got more intense. The heat started seeping in deeper, past the skin into his muscles and bones. His skin dried and flaked off, Wally giving way to-

To what?

He was looking into this too deeply.

It was yet another morning after the dream, Wally sat on the edge of his bed. His feet planted to the cold floor, his sweaty forehead was pressed and rested on his palms. Sharp elbows dug into his knees, and all these sensations brought him back.

It was getting harder to come back. To shake off the heat that clung to his lungs, dry and scraping. This was all in his head. His subconscious must be trying to tell him something, he just didn't know what. Or the pressure of the job was getting to him. He couldn't really admit that one, though.

Stress was fine, manageable. He was sixteen, teenagers were stressed. But if he said that the hero business was making his brain weird, they'd make him stop.

"That can't happen." He murmured.

And that was that. He stood, took a moment to shake the lethargy from his limbs before getting ready. School, cave, home, stay awake until it was morning. Rinse and repeat for however long he could stand it. When he was thoroughly exhausted, his next night of sleep would be dreamless. Perfect plan.

Wally went into the bathroom to shower, and startled at his reflection. For a moment, it didn't look like him. Soft golden tones instead of his harsh pale and red. He shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut, and when they opened again it was him in the mirror.

"This is too weird." He closed his eyes. "So is talking to yourself, Wallman. Cut it out. Seriously."

Wally got ready for the day, trying to put all of the weirdness out of mind. He thought of school work, his dread over if his bullies would seek him out, of the training scheduled later on in the day, and how he would stay awake. His thoughts raced, and whenever they drifted back to the weirdness, he'd shake his head and think of something else.

His mind couldn't afford to wander. This couldn't get worse, so he couldn't let it linger in his head anymore than it usually did. This was really going to suck.

School was, unfortunately, not the distraction he'd been looking for. Classes were dull and couldn't hold his attention. Even chemistry was bad, all lecturing and no experiments to focus on. Lunch wasn't too bad, the heckling from his bullies was something to pay attention to, at least.

Finally he was able to drag himself out of that despair filled building. Training awaited. That would be fun- painful, probably. But fun.

He changed into his suit and started running to Rhode Island. He started with a more scenic route but quickly opted out of that. He didn't need more time to think, even though it was habit. So he arrived at the Cave within a few minutes.

The training run was activated, with Black Canary and the rest of the team discussing what he assumed to be the plan for the day. They paused when the tube announced him.

"Sorry , school just-"

"We know, dude." Robin reassured.

Wally offered up a smile, moving quickly to his side. Canary fixed him with a look, one he couldn't decipher. That didn't mean it was a particularly cryptic look, but that he was barely holding it together and there was no way he could read social cues now. He nodded at her and she let out a sigh.

"As I was saying: training today starts with basic sparring. Split into pairs and decided amongst yourselves who's going first."

Robin's elbow bumped into his arm, and Wally glanced down at his friend. He was met with a sly grin and the subtle wagging of eyebrows beneath his mask. Wally returned the grin, jerking his chin. They weren't teaming up to kick other people's' asses, but it was always fun showing the rest of the team how it's done.

"Robin and I are totally going first." He puffed his chest out, head lolling to glance over at his other teammates.

"Wow, glad we all came to that agreement together." Artemis rolled her eyes.

"Do you want to go first?"

"Maybe I do." She paused, scoffing. "But it obviously means more to you so, by all means."

Wally flashed her a sugary smile, more teeth than necessary, and looked back at Canary.

"Get into position, then," Canary said after a moment, queueing up the control screen.

Robin and Wally proceeded to do so; Robin with a hand on his belt and Wally crouched low. He pulled his goggles down and let out a slow breath. A moment of calm came over him, and with it, a lurch as his mind slipped.

He came back in time to dodge a birdarang, hissing when the second grazed his arm. The cut healed in a moment, so he paid that no mind, but cursed himself for drifting off. He couldn't do that in a fight, he had to focus on the fight.

And focus he did, using his speed to keep up with the dance Robin was leading him in, swooping and flipping across the small arena. They dodged and kicked and tossed and hit, neither of them really putting their all into it. Despite his earlier feelings on making it impressive, the start of the match had left him shaken.

He was about to call it, concentration shifted, and Robin's foot connected with the symbol on his chest. The air rushed out of him as he sailed backgrounds, hitting the ground and sliding. He gasped, lightheaded.

His mind slipped.