A/N: So I actually got the idea for this story when listening to 'Spies' by Coldplay, hence the reference :P. So this is one of my first new stories in three years. Geez, where have I been? It feels great to be back though, but just as a precaution I openly allow anyone to send me verbal threats if I don't update this soon xD. I mean! I'm really bad at that! I forget or catch writers block. Ugh, I swear its evil. So...how have you been reader? Good? Me, too. We haven't talked like this in so long! I missed you :'(. Please take me back! I didn't mean everything I said! I sorrrry! D'8

Disclaimer: I own my original characters, nothing else. All others belong respectively to DC Comic and their creators.

"I awake to find no peace of mind.
I said how do you live
As a fugitive?
Down here, where I cannot see so clear
I said what do I know?
Show me the right way to go."

The ugly brown tabby sprinted from the bedroom, startled by the sudden movement of its owner. Wally West dragged himself out of bed silently pulling his body into a sitting position. This was the fifth time in two weeks. He put his head into his hands, rubbing his temples, recalling his dream from moments ago. It played out like a scene from a movie; first blurry, like a soaked window on a rainy day, the colors bleeding together, all in slow motion. Then voices, sounds, faces, thoughts, and colors sped up but still incoherent and then, like a punch to the face, it would end exactly how it began. With her; slow paced images of an unknown face of a familiar person, each time different would flash before his eyes. Sometimes she'd be talking, others laughing, walking. Even the simplest image of her sitting on a bus staring longingly out the windows haunted his dreams. But tonight was the worst one yet. She had been in a new place and she looked so terrified, as she turned in slow motion searching for something, someone.

"What's the matter with me?" Wally asked no one. Sighing he looked at the alarm clock by his bedside. It blinked obnoxiously 3:24 am in red. Groaning he threw himself onto his ruffled covers, mentally cursing these dreams. Lying in bed he recalled his dream again. Though he could never see her face completely through the fog that was his mind, he could tell she was beautiful. She had brown blondish hair, straight and reaching a little bit below her shoulders, barely visible pink streaks here, and an even more almost invisible purple one there, with a heart shaped face and a healthy pink glow to her skin. Wally shook his head. "Great, just great," the young twenty-three year old scoffed, "I have the hots for an imaginary girl from my dreams." He laughed at himself, and then shuddered, realizing how true it was. He pondered about maybe seeing a doctor, not that he was really one for dream analogy. He shook his head again and rolled over onto his side, determined to fall back asleep.

Thirty minutes later, Wally sprang straight up in bed, eyes wide. His eyes darted from one side of the room to the other, looking desperately for something, anything. Seeing nothing, he jumped to his feet and cautiously investigated the rest of his apartment. Still nothing, breathing heavily, Wally plumbed down on his small couch, scaring the fat tabby once more and it waddled away annoyed. He wasn't going crazy, he was certain he heard it. Almost like it was right behind him, in his ear, pulling the strings in the back of his mind; the distinctive sound of a young girl whispering. "Maybe I should go see a doctor," he huffed.

She woke with a start, hearing the large dangerous men searching on the other side of the thin wall. Little Bridgette tensed up beside her in fear. "Ce qui était?" the twelve year old squeaked. Her English was terrible and she often resorted to her native tongue when not thinking. Yuri hushed her before anyone could answer as more crashing sounds were heard. Kristelle closed her eyes as the sounds got closer to the small opening through the wall that lead to the secret room. Everything went quiet as the movement stopped outside the concealed little door. The air was silent and the world held still and held its breath.

"What makes you so sure they're here?" One man grunted, one of the larger by his deep voice.

Another man moved to where the other stood. They were right on the other side of the wall. "This is where they were last seen. Where the hell else could a couple of broke runaways go, hmmm?" the leader spat, irritated and menacing, through a heavy English accent.

The answer was silent, like a scolded puppy, but the leader wanted an answer and repeated the question. "Nowhere, sir."

"That's right." He paused then ordered them to keep looking, not to leave a rock unturned. And by the luck of God they went right over the secret door, not even looking twice at the spot where it was hidden. Almost an hour later they left and the refugees immerged from their hiding spot.

"That was a close call," Jake laughed, trying to lighten to mood. The room was trashed. Everything was either broken or out across the floor.

Kristelle was the first to move. She quickly moved and grabbed a backpack from the mess and began stuffing it with necessities. "What are you doing?" Yuri asked, confused.

She didn't look up but kept packing. "We have to relocate. They'll be back." She answered picking up another bag and throwing it to him. He looked uncertain. "Now would be nice." She said hotly. Everyone followed her lead and started moving.

Bridgette walked over to Kristelle and tugged on her jacket.

"I'm scared." She muttered and rubbed her face.

Kristelle bent over and picked up her on, placing her to the table. "Don't worry, I won't let anything happen to you, okay?" she smiled and whipped some dirt off Bridgette's cheek. Trust me, sweetie. No one's ever going to ever going hurt us again she whispered in the quiet of their minds, like it was a secret between the two.

Wally tapped his foot impatiently in the waiting room. The gross elevator music made him want to choke whoever decided to make it the theme for all doctors' offices.

"Mr. West?" The cute little lady behind the desk asked. He smiled in her direction as he stood. "Dr. Russell will see you now," she nodded.

Strolling down the corridor Wally hoped this wouldn't take too. Yeah, he was taking a sick day at work but he still had other duties. Like protecting the world from super baddies, he thought smiling to himself. Dr. Russell let him into the small room and Wally took a seat on the squishy examination table like a little kid. Sadly there were no nurses around to "help" out. Sad face.

"Wally, I haven't seen you in hear in a long time. So my boy, what seems to be the problem?" Dr. Russell asked.

Crap, Wally thought. How was he going to explain this without sounding like a complete idiot or a loon? "Well…um I…I keep having this uh dream, you see and…it's really freaking me out cause…" Come on Wally; let's try not to word this like you've been off your meds. "…well I had the dream last night, again and afterwards I…I heard a voice, like in my head."

Dr. Russell studied Wally for a moment before he coughed and leaned forward. "So you've been hearing voices?" he asked, eyebrows rose. Double crap.

"No, No!" He quickly answered. "It was more like a whisper…" he muttered, "and it only happed once!"

Dr. Russell examined Wally's face, then sighed and moved to sit next to him. "Wally what's this dream about?" he asked.

"A girl, a really beautiful girl and its just like stop motion images of her. Just doing little things a normal person does everyday." Wally rubbed the back of his neck, "But I don't know her or anything though."

The good doctor nodded, "So this voice you heard after the dream…was it hers?"

"I…I don't know…" he hadn't thought about that before. Could it have been her voice? "I couldn't really hear what was said I just know it was a girl."

The doctor smiled at Wally and patted him on the back. "Son there is nothing wrong with you. My diagnosis is maybe you're a little lonely." The little older man jumped off the table and turned back to Wally. "Why don't you get a girlfriend?" They talked for a few more minutes before, Wally was dismissed. Walking out of the building he thought to himself That was a complete waste of time. 1. I'm not even close to being lonely, he thought as he waved to the young lady behind the front desk, who looked sad to see him leave. 2. I could so get a girlfriend I wanted to. Chicks dig the Flash (oh, I love being a stud). And 3 that did not even come close to explaining my little cocobannas moment. As he turned on the street he smacked right into a person, who went immediately down.

"Oh crap, dude! I'm sorry." Wally quickly helped the teenage boy to his feet.

"No, I'm sorry," the boy spoke in a Russian accent. "I really need to watch were I'm going." He apologized.

Wally smiled at the kid, who looked no older than sixteen. "Well, either way I'm still sorry. I was in such a rush. I should have been looking at where I was going."

"No hard feelings at all, sir." The boy nodded. "Well, excuse me but I have to be off," he smiled and started back onto his route.

"Of course." Wally smiled and turned around and yelled back to the boy, "Stay out of trouble!" The boy waved and ran off. Wow, I suddenly feel kind of old. Did he call me sir? Me? Wally laughed to himself.

"Where's Yuri? Oh, god. I hope he's okay."

Wally stopped dead in the middle of the street. That was not a whisper. That was not incoherent, either. That was clear as day. And to make matters worse, no one was around to say those words. I really hope I'm not going crazy. That's so not even cool.

How long would this go on? The nineteen year old was tired. Just last week she'd seen all of their face plastered across the news. That was terrifying, knowing everyone knew who you were and in a way. Everyone had to change what they looked like. Dying her blondish locks strawberry blonde wasn't that big of a change but it help hide her face. And the reason for the sudden fame? Well it had been ridiculous. A bank robbery, massive acts of thievery and a couple of B&Es, please. It amazed her how they could simply manufacture such a farce and cover up the truth. A conspiracy this big would make a news reporter jump for joy. This wasn't even her government. She was a refugee more and had no way of going back. How selfish she suddenly felt. Constantly thinking about the way she felt and had been treated, and no one else. Damn, now she was being just plain stupid.

"You know frowning so much will make you age quicker." Christen said patting Kristelle on the head, gently. Not taking kindly to being called old or binging wrenched out of her thoughts randomly, she narrowed her eyes. The only American in the group, plopped down next to her. "What you thinking about?"

Kristelle cocked her head slightly and peeked at him, eyes still narrowed. "Everything." She sighed and let her smile slip through. "So much has happened and yet I could almost trick myself into thinking I was still home. How long has it been, I wonder?" A small breeze began to pick up.

Christen scoffed and stretched. "Beats me. I lost track of how long I'd been in the system awhile ago."

What will become of us? Taken from our homes, nowhere to go. Perhaps they had never truly been our homes. Something that has been going on for this long couldn't just involve the Americas. Maybe everyone had known. Maybe we had never been free. From our government, from our disease.

"You're doing it again." Christen said, poking Kristelle in the face, like a child. "You're getting older and older as the seconds go by! I see the wrinkles forming as we speak!" He yelled dramatically.

"...I swear you're such a tool." Kristelle rolled her eyes and stood up. The boy smiled up at her, proud to have seemingly lifted her mood. How long had they all been like this?

"Kristelle! Kristelle!" Little Bridgette called, running over to the young women. "Look what I made!" the little girl opened her hands and revealed a small flower ring.

Kristelle knelt down to Bridgette's level and smiled. "Aw, it's so pretty. Did you do it all by yourself?"

The girl giggled, "No, Myrtle showed me." She pointed at the older Irish girl sitting on a bench, who waved. "It's for you."

The small natural accessory was made out of buttercups that covered the whole of the park. "Cheers, darling." Kristelle giggled and slid the tiny ring onto her finger. She had never been one for jewelry, but this little gift was an exception. Suddenly she remembered. "Is Yuri still out? ...He sure is taking forever..."

Oh God. She was seriously starting to sound like a mother. And she's not even fully legal yet. Mother. Her image was fading more and more everyday, along with everyone else. Would they just on day not be there anymore? The sun yawned and began to retire for a good nights sleep. Lucky sun and moon. They sleep easily every morning and night. That feeling was also fading. Would it just be gone, too? Will I forget that they were even here?

"I awake to see that no one is free.
We're all fugitives - look at the way we live
Down here, I cannot sleep from fear. No
I said which way do I turn?
Oh I forget everything I learn."

A/N: So there it is! I know its short but give me break I've just barely gotten back onto my feet! Oh, and just so its clear every one of the runaways are younger than Kristelle, who is nineteen. And only Christen is American. Kristelle is English and Bridgette is French. Yuri is Russian and Jake and Myrtle are Irish. I'm still not sure how many of them there are so if a few new ones just pop up later, forgive me. And forgive my terrible French! I used a friend of mine who takes French and an online translator. And sorry for the random switching in and out of first person POVs. If anyone needs me to fix that, just tell me if its too confusing. Again, you are welcome to scream at me if I don't update in a timely fashion. Please review! :D