Author's Note: So, after a long hiatus, I've decided to clear out my hard-drive of a few fics, much like this one. Fair warning, this one in particular is unlikely to get a continuation. I'm leaving it listed as 'Incomplete' as part of a vain hope that inspiration will strike, and, who knows? Maybe after the Gravity Fall's finale it will. For now, just enjoy.


Suddenly he was airborne... for all of a second, maybe. Then he crashed into the packed dirt that made up the ground.

Oh, he hurt. He very much hurt.

His body was... something beyond exhausted. He'd never gone that fast before. A small part of him wondered if he ever would again.

And now he was bruised and lying in the dirt. Ooh, tired muscled worked carefully to lift him from the ground. Slowly pulling away his goggles, the cracked lenses rendering them useless, he finally got a decent look at his new surroundings.

It was dark, probably underground. Lit only by the dying light of the closing portal behind him. The decor was vaguely 'mad scientisty', combining the natural contours of the cave with the high tech components of the lab. It kind of reminded him of the Bat Cave.

And he wasn't the only one there.

An old man. Broad shoulders, glasses and a slight hunch. He was dressed in his underwear and a fez. He was also aiming a shotgun in Wally's direction. Wally really wished he hadn't seen weirder sights.

"Now you're a strange one," the man said gruffly. "Where the hell did you come from?"

Rubbing at his head as he struggled unsteadily to his feet, Wally answered as best he could. "The North Pole. I don't... I was running and there was this rift and I-"

"North Pole?" The man grunted. "What, are you one of Santa's elves? Is he real, too?"

"What? Elves?" Wally frowned. "No, dude, I'm Kid Flash."

"You're a kid what-now?" He looked disturbed. "See, now that's just wrong."

"Dude, seriously?" Wally scowled. It'd been a while since anyone had gone there. "I'm Kid Flash. The Kid Flash?"

"Whatever," the man waved him off. "You come from the North Pole, then? With the ice and snow and whatnot?"

"Yeah," Wally turned to give the machine a better look. "You build this? Is this Zeta-beam tech?"

"Zeta-what?" Suddenly he seemed interested. "What'd you call it?"

"...Zeta-beams? Teleportation technology?" Wally clarified, thinking maybe the dude was a little off his rocker. "Do you work with the League? You know this tech is restricted, right?"

"Restricted?" He frowned. "Kid, the government doesn't even know this stuff exists. How could they restrict it?"

"What are you talking about?" Wally matched his expression. "Everyone knows the League has Zeta-beam tech."

"What League?" He cocked the gun, his expression turning severe. "Are you with those Blind Eye nutjobs?"

"The hell? Dude, the Justice League. Duh."

"Justice League?" He repeated. "Sounds like something outta one of Mabel's cartoons. You sure you're not just crazy, kid?"

Wally quirked his brow, "Could say the same thing about you, old man."

That got a shrug. "Fair point. I don't know anything about 'Zeta-beams' and I ain't never heard of no Justice League, I can tell you that much."

"And the portal?"

He shrugged again. "My brother built it for some sciencey geek reason, but he got sucked in. I've been trying to figure out how to bring him back ever since. So far you're the only thing I've seen come out of it."

"Okay," Wally frowned. "Then... where are we?"

"Gravity Falls, Oregon," he answered proudly. "Weirdest town in all of America. They have an America where you come from, right?"

"Dude, I'm from Missouri, not Mars," Wally scowled. Gravity Falls? "So, what's it a portal too?"

"I'm not sure," the man sighed. "Other worlds, maybe? My brother left his notes behind, but I've been trying to make sense of them for thirty years."

"Other worlds?" Wally felt a sinking in his gut. His mind flashed to the most recognizable names of his world. Some point of reference. "And if I said the names 'Superman', 'Batman', 'Flash'...?"

"I'd ask you if you're listing sideshow attractions," he grunted, before turning thoughtful. "'Superman' sounds a little Third Reich for me, but a Human Bat might bring in the crowds..."

"Okay, theory time," Wally raised his hands in surrender. "Mind lowering the gun first?"

He shrugged, doing as he was asked. He lowered the barrel, but he didn't release his grip on the stock. "Let's hear it."

"Before I showed up here, I was resonating at a frequency that-" the man held up his hand to stop him.

"You lost me," he told him bluntly. "Try again, this time with less nerd words."

Wally sighed. "I was... I might have slipped through the cracks of the dimensional walls that separate alternate realities. That should have wiped me from existence, but if you opened a hole in reality at the same time, I would have been sucked through like air through a vacuum."

"Then... you're from an alternate world?" The gun was being raised again.

"Almost definitely," Wally ignored the gun. If he fired, Wally could dodge the spray, no problem. He turned to examine the portal generator again. "Still, better here than limbo. This world isn't an apocalyptic wasteland, is it?"

"Huh? No! Of course not. What kind of world do you come from?"

"Eh, a pretty normal one, I guess," Wally shrugged, moving over to examine the switch that dominated the center of the room. "So, is this the 'On' switch, or what?"

"Kid, I've been working on this thing for thirty years and even I barely understand it," he gestured vaguely to the console. "If it weren't for Ford's notes, I wouldn't even know what I was doing."

Wally grinned, "So we can send me back?"

"Kid, I don't even know how you got here."

"Eh," Wally waved him off. "I'm a pretty smart guy. Let me take a look at the guy's notes and I'm sure I can work things out."

"Really?" The man seemed doubtful, but rubbed at his stubbled chin with interest. "How smart are we talking here? Clever smart? Genius smart? Super-genius smart?"

Wally grinned. "I just need a look at the notes."

The man gestured towards the console, "Be my guest, kid."

Wally walked over to the console to get a look at the notes and was surprised to find a trio of journals arranged in an inverted triangle, upon which were what looked to be the blueprints for the machine. His grin slowly faded to a frown.

"Yeah, definitely gonna need some time for this," Wally sighed. It'd take some time, maybe even a few weeks, but he should be able to work all this out. He was lucky, actually. He'd gone into that vortex not expecting to come back, but now here he was, alive and well and with a way home. All he had to do was figure it out.

"You really think you can work this thing?" There was a tinge of something in the old man's voice. Hope?

"I don't see why not," Wally shrugged. "Might take me a while, but it's just a matter of time."

"In that case, kid, I've got a spare bedroom you can use while you're here," he held out a hand to shake, lowering the gun for real this time. "The name's Stan Pines. Welcome to the Mystery Shack."

Wally grabbed the offered hand and shook with a grin. "Thanks, man."


There were a few brief ground rules to cover as Stan led Wally back up to the main house.

"First thing's first," he explained. "You don't tell anyone about what's down in the basement. Capiche?"

"Dude, who'm I gonna tell?" Wally almost laughed. Aside from Stan, he knew nobody in this world.

"I'm getting to that," Stan cocked his gun suddenly. "My grand-niece and nephew are staying with me for the summer. You so much as look at'em funny and I'll..."

"Message received, loud and clear," Wally raised his arms to placate the older man. Stan nodded stiffly in response.

"I've got some old clothes you can borrow," he offered. "At least until we can get you fixed up with something other than that... thing that you're wearing now. What's the deal with that, anyway?"

"It's a, uh, uniform," Wally answered. It was technically true. "Back in my reality, I'm a part of a peacekeeping organization. Or, I was. I'd been taking some time off lately before this whole mess got started."

Stan nodded, accepting the answer. There would be a time later when he would get the full details, but that time would not be at half past one in the morning. Sleep first.

"Okay," Stan tilted his head thoughtfully. "When the kids ask, we'll say you're my nephew on my ex-wife's side. Just visiting."

"Got it Uncle Stan," Wally smirked. "Just here for a week or two before I get back to seeing the sights."

"Yeah," Stan seemed somewhat displeased by the moniker. "And what're we gonna call you, kid? I don't know about your world, but 'Kid Flash' ain't much of a name here on this one."

"You can call me..." Wally hesitated, uncertain for the moment, then shrugged. "You can call me Wally. Wally, uh... what was your ex-wife's name?"

"Martinez," Stan admitted with a smirk. "Beautiful woman, not that the kids know that. But you don't really look the part for a name like that."

"Crock then," Wally decided. It was a different world, so he could afford to not be quite so careful with his identity. But there was a difference between that and spilling his guts to every stranger he met. If he was giving up 'West' for the time being, this at least would keep Artemis fresh in his mind. "Wally Crock."


The room Stan showed him was well furnished and open, with just enough personal touches to tell Wally it belonged to someone particular rather than being a spare bed as Stan had claimed. Wally wondered if it belonged to the brother Stan had mentioned. The one who'd disappeared into the portal downstairs.

Stan left him to his own devices, quick to leave the room Wally had been shown and only returning briefly with a pair of black pants that would be loose around his waist and a shirt that would hang from his shoulders. Stan was much broader than his young guest and Wally would have to get himself something that fit first thing in the morning.

For the moment he stripped himself of the Kid Flash uniform, briefly considering where to put it before shrugging and draping it over the armrest of the couch that dominated the far wall. Stan already knew of it and if any of Stan's other guests barged in, Wally could claim it was simply a costume of some kind. Wally would much prefer having it in sight as he slept rather than tucking it away in some dark and unseen corner.

It was childish, perhaps, but seeing the Flash's insignia had helped him sleep soundly since he was six years old. Having his uniform in view would be a comfort given the stress of the day.

His body told him it was only late afternoon, as it had been when he hit the vortex, but his eyes told him otherwise after a quick glance out the window. Late at night, possibly even very early morning. It was just as well that he was exhausted.

He slipped into the bed with some discomfort. The bed felt old and unused and the mattress was lumpy and the sheets hadn't been changed in who knew how long. More than that, it was empty. Wally had been having trouble sleeping ever since Artemis had left on the Tigress mission. Wasn't that ironic? Today was the day that Artemis was to return home, and now it was him sleeping in a bed too far from their own.

That was a sobering thought. He wondered how Artemis was doing. Did she think he was dead? She'd have to. Going into that vortex, he certainly hadn't thought he'd come out alive. He'd done all of the calculations when he'd made his way to the Arctic. Stan's portal was a fluke that could not have been predicted.

So... Artemis thought he was dead. He wondered if it would be her or Barry that told his parents. Barry... Dick, Kaldur, everyone...

Man, he hoped they didn't do anything drastic before he got back. It would be a pain in the ass having to explain to the government that no, despite what they'd been told, he wasn't actually dead just yet.

These were the thoughts that consumed him until the demand for sleep encompassed his body.

The sleep he reached was fitful and plagued by dreams of the mourning friends he'd left behind.