Hello everyone! I want to say thank you to all the lovely people who have reviewed! You motivate me! (God that sounds weird.)

Anyways...I'm kinda mean to these boys, but I can't help it.

The fame. The power. The "glory". That was what he was thinking of when he starting trying to recreate the experiment. After it worked, after he became Kid Flash, he realized that what he really enjoyed was the feeling afterwards. The look of the crowd after he defeated a villain. The smile of a kid when he rescued their parent. Or just going to bed, with the feeling that he was doing something right. But the pain. The terror. The dread. That was definitely not what he signed up for. And this. Standing in this sickly white room, staring at the figure on the bed. This was nothing he ever expected. He didn't expect to meet him in this crazy world of crime fighting. He didn't expect to become so close to him. He didn't expect the times they had spent talking, laughing, fighting together. He never expected to grow to…care for him so much. And he never thought of standing here, watching his chest shudder with faltering gasps. And even now, it all seemed unreal. Five minutes ago he was sitting on the couch at the cave, finishing the contents of the fridge. A frantic phone call and a mad dash to the hospital, and he was watching the life drain out of his best friend. The little he understood over the phone explained the many tears and gashes in the boy's uniform. It was a regular stakeout, gone horribly wrong when the thugs took him by surprise. His fighting was never to be underestimated, but 10 to 1 wasn't fair. He doubted even the boy's mentor could have won. But now he was here. Some of the injuries were obvious: limbs bent the way they shouldn't be, blood oozing out of rips in the red and yellow fabric. But he could only guess at the damage inside.

Wally dropped to his knees. Face now level with the boy's bed, he looked at his friend's face. His mask was ripped enough Wally could see one eye lid fluttering. If Wally ignored the split lip and angry red stain on his cheek, he could almost imagine he was sleeping. Wally lightly placed one hand on the shuddering chest. He clenched his jaw. This wasn't happening. This wasn't possible. But even through his glove he felt the sticky moisture seeping through his shirt. No! He screamed at himself. He is going to be fine. He is going to make it. He won't… Wally's brain, running even faster than an average persons, was suddenly filled with sickening images. A heart rate machine, running a steady 0. The beep piercing through the air. A white sheet drawn over the dark head. A brown wooden casket, his name printed on the front in curling gold engraving. A bleak stone.

Here lies…

NO! He squeezed his eyes shut. No…no…no…no… His head began pounding, a never-ending loop of heart shattering agony.

"Aaa…" This slight noise that could barely be called a moan brought Wally's head shooting up from where it was resting against the cool metal of the bed.

"W…w…" He turned his head and was met with a spot of crystal blue, looking straight at him.

"Wal, wally…" Despite himself, Wally could feel his eyes filling with the fear he felt. He reached one trembling hand out to brush back the hair sticking to his forehead.

"Rob?"

That one word, breaking on its way out of his throat, suddenly reminded Wally of where he was. He was kneeling on the floor of the emergency room of Gotham Central Hospital. His ears were filled with the voices of panicking doctors and nurses, and the scraping of wheels against linoleum. His nose was assaulted with the stinging scent of bile and bleach. It was starting to overwhelm him, when he felt fingers lightly plucking at his shirt. Suddenly nothing else mattered except the one blue eye looking up at him. Wally felt his lungs freeze.

"Wally…" the boy gasped. "It's…" A shallow, wheezing breath. "only…" A deep gasp. "A…" Another gasp followed by a long exhale. "only a…flesh wound." Under different circumstances, Wally would have understood the joke, but he was far too frantic.

Suddenly, a hand was on Wally's shoulder. It was shaking him, pulling him away from the bed. A voice was in his ear, screaming things he didn't understand. He twisted and squirmed, trying to fight his way free. Then, strong arms wrapped around him, holding him in place. Wally stopped struggling, keeping his eyes locked on the blue one, as the bed was swarmed with doctors and wheeled into another room. Wally stayed frozen until the doors swung shut. Then he became aware of Kaldur's voice in his ear.

"Wally? Wally? He will be fine." Kaldur shook him lightly. "Do you hear me? He. Will. Be. Fine."

Wally lifted his head to see the rest of the team standing around him. The reality of the situation was etched onto their faces. In the other room…Robin was dying. A stinging acid rushed into his mouth and Wally's knees collapsed. Kaldur held him for a moment before slowly lowering him to the floor. On his hands and knees, Wally watched tears drip onto the polished floor.

Come on Rob. You can do this. Don't leave me.

...ta da? Tell me, tell me what you think?

Untill next time!