Young Justice doesn't belong to me, no profit made.

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It took a few moments for Wally to realize he had stopped running.

He felt the shock spasm through his muscles as the ringing in his ears dimmed.

A tingling sensation fizzled through his fingers then sparked at the tips. He smelt burning as the roof of his hair singed, and the pounding of the soles of his feet, bruised and swollen.

Wally was standing in a room, which eerily looked like his apartment in Stanford. The walls were plastered with cheap wall paper, the cracks hidden by clunky posters. A battered ten year old TV stood in the corner, next to it snoozed a bulldog. The sound of radio could be heard in the distance chanting to itself innocuously while the smell of overdone toast wafted in the air.

Wally was drawn however to the center of the room to the leather bound couch and the hunched figure perched in the middle of it. Before he could speak the figure raised his head and beckoned Wally to sit next to him. Sipping from a can nonchalantly, the boy looked to be in his mid to late teens, his hair was black and swathed across his face. Wally obeyed, he could sense a vein of menace emit from the boy and he doubted disobeying would be a good idea.

Wally felt the unease began to swell in his stomach. The boy didn't speak preferring to sip contemplatively. He felt his skin simmer from the anxiety as an uncomfortable silence encompassed them. Wally's mind was swamped with thoughts, ''What the hell is going on? Where am I? Who is this guy?''

In a need for understanding, Wally shattered the silence.

'Am I dead?'

The boy stopped drinking then with barely a glance, he muttered.

'In a way.'

'Whats that supposed to mean?'

'Well we're gone right? kicked the bucket, but do really think this is whats after?'

'Wally threw his hands in the air.'

'This is insane! It looks like my apartment!'

The boy smiled,

'Creepy isn't it? Don't worry you get used to it.'

Wally felt a slight nudge of recognition at the boys voice. He tried to study his face, but the boy noticed and quickly looked down.

'Why are we here?'

'No clue.'

'Then I'm leaving.'

'Good luck with that.'

Wally scanned the walls, despite there being a natural light he couldn't see a single window, door or latch. He heard a slight chuckle from his partner as he resigned himself further back into his seat.

'Is there anyone else here?'

'There was. A girl from Atlantis, red hair and tattoos. She was sweet, she's gone now.'

'Tula?'

'That's the one. She was scared for a friend, worried he had gone to far. Then a few days ago she changed, She looked relieved like she could move on. Then she just faded away.'

Wally sensed bitterness in the boy's tone.

'Maybe that is what will happen to us, give it time.'

'I doubt it. I've been here for years. Nothing's changed. This is a prison.'

Wally felt himself placing a hand on the boys shoulder. The boy seemed dejected, exhausted, old. But Wally couldn't help feel a pang of recognition. ''We have met before. I know this guy.'' A voice breaks the silence.

'Who have you left behind?'

Wally thought of Artemis, his family, his friends, Barry, Bart and the league.

'Everyone. What about you?'

The boys voice falters slightly.

'A father.'

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