After reading the summary for episode four (I think it's four), I was all "OMG, 'former comrade'?" My brain started to torment me with a very angst story about everyone's favourite Kid Flash and this is what came out. Of course ages may or may not work with everything I wrote, but hey. Maybe I threw in a few more years?

Disclaimer – I do not own YJ. If I did, would Spitfire really be absent?

Enjoy

Once upon a time, Wallace Rudolph West fought bad guys. Once upon a time, he had been a part of a family-like team. Once upon a time, he had a crush on a Martian. Once upon a time, he fell in love with a blonde haired beauty with blue eyes and who never put up with his shit.

Once upon a time, she had been taken from him.

Now, Wallace Rudolph West sat on a crappy couch in a crappy apartment with a crappy TV, and he was falling. He was falling gracelessly into his sixth beer of the day and he was brooding. He wanted to remember her, but at the same time he wanted so desperately to forget. He wanted the pain to go away. Three years his Spitfire had been gone and three years he sat on that crappy couch with a shitty beer clutched in his hand. Wally closed his eyes, hiding his emeralds from the dimly lit room, and took a deep breath. The stench of alcohol filled his senses and he hoped – no, he prayed – that he would forget her. There was a knock somewhere, but Wally didn't move a muscle. He just slumped in his place; the only movement was his arm placing the green bottle to his lips before falling back down. His eyes remained closed and he shoved the blurry images of Artemis out of his head.

"Daddy." A little voice whispered. Wally felt the slight tug on his shirt. "Daddy. Someone is at the door."

Wally almost groaned. How could he forget her? How could he push the images of his dead wife out of his head while her spitting image was running around as a constant reminder of the woman who had been taken from him? He opened a bloodshot eye, glaring at the little blonde girl who forced him out of his self-made shithole everyday. Her blue eyes watched him fearfully, and Wally was dimly aware that she was poised to run. Just in case he swung at her. Again.

"Daddy?"

Wally just grunted and closed his eye. He heard the pitter patter of her feet and allowed himself to relax again. He barely registered that his four-year-old daughter had opened the door and was greeting the intruder warmly. Wally found himself torn between wanting that wretched reminder of Artemis to be taken from his sight so he can succumb to the alcohol, and wanting to cradle the little girl in his arms and never let her go, because she was his only living reminder of Artemis. Wally took another swing of beer and noted that the bottle sounded empty.

"You look like crap, Wallman."

Wally growled at the interruption of his brooding and once more opened his eyes. His bloodshot emeralds landed on the little blonde peering at him from behind the interrupters legs, and Wally had the urge to throw the beer bottle at her even though he knew she hadn't spoken. He thought about the beer still in the bottle and decided that the beer was more important. His supply was running low and he couldn't afford to waste a drop. Stealing was exhausting.

He trained his eyes on the intruder, taking another gulp of beer, and scowled. The little blonde brat was hiding behind his once upon a time best friend and even with the sunglasses, Wally could still see the baby blues looking at him disapprovingly. His old friend tsked.

"You need to shave, dude. And shower. And eat." Dick frowned at the body on the couch. "And definitely sober up."

Wally scoffed, finishing up the bottle. Lazily, he tossed it at the far wall where it smashed on impact, and he surged clumsily to his feet. Dick heard the little girl whimper before running off to hide from her father and possibly his angry fists. Wally stumbled his way past the original Robin into the kitchen. Dick watched as his drunk, speedster friend yanked open the fridge, and grabbed another beer bottle. Wally opened it easily and went to take a sip, when he suddenly found his hand empty.

"Enough, Wally." Dick said firmly. "Time to sober up."

"Fuck you," Wally snarled, going back to the fridge. Dick pressed his lips together, dropped the still full beer bottle into the trashcan and slammed the fridge shut before the red head could fully open it.

"I said, enough, Wally," Dick snapped. Wally straightened to his full height, his eyes full of fury. Dick, not for the first time, understood why Hope Crock West was so terrified of her father.

"And I said, fuck. You." Wally growled. There was a tense moment of silence. Then Wally spoke again. "Why the fuck are you here, anyway? The brat is still alive, if that is why you came. Isn't that why you come? To make sure the stupid kid isn't dead yet? Well, tada! She lives. Now, run back to the Mountain. Feel free to take her with you."

"Trust me," Dick sneered. "If I could take her, I would have snatched her from you the second you started drinking. She doesn't belong there."

"Well, hell, she doesn't belong here either!" Wally roared, his face turning the same colour as his hair.

"No shit, Sherlock." Dick shouted right back. "She belongs with her father. Her mother is dead and it seems like her father is always shitfaced! You need to sober up, you shit!"

"Go screw yourself." Wally snapped, trying to storm past the younger man. Dick shoved him back into the confines of the kitchen. He was positive he could hear Hope's sniffles and he had no intention of allowing Wally near the little girl.

"You screwed yourself over and you keep doing it. And for the record, I come to this shit apartment to make sure that my best friend hasn't offed himself, leaving his kid alone! I came today because believe it or not, we need you to help us out with a mission. If you would sober up long enough!"

"Kid Flash is retired. Go find the Flash." Wally scowled.

"We need Kid Flash. Not the Flash. Whether you like it or not, you're coming with me."

The two men stared at each other silently and the tension was thick enough to cut with a knife.

"No." Wally spoke first.

"I forgot to mention, you don't have a choice." Dick said, before neatly punching the red head across the face. Wally went down with a thud. Dick pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a sigh.

"Hope," he called out quietly. "Where are you? Come out."

There was a quiet sniffle and before he could blink, the little girl was clutching his leg and staring up at him, her blue eyes watery. He crouched down in front of her and smiled.

"Hey, don't cry." He soothed, wiping away her tears. "I need you to do me a big girl favour. I need you to watch your daddy for me. I'm going to get Conner – you remember Conner? – to help me take your daddy to Conner and your Aunt M'gnn's home. Can you do that for me? Can you watch him and make sure he doesn't move?"

"What if he wakes up?" She whispered fearfully. Dick kissed her nose.

"He won't."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"Pinky promise?" She held out her tiny pinky to him. He entwined his pinky with hers and brushed away her tears again.

"Pinky promise."

She nodded, satisfied that Dick would be true to his word and watched him slip away into the night. The second he was out the door, she sped to her room. When Dick returned with Conner, Hope sat as far from her father as she could while still being in the kitchen, her little arms wrapped around green fabric.

Conner and Dick recognized it and both came to the realization that Wally was not the only one gracelessly falling. Hope was falling, too. Except, instead of alcohol, her pit was lined with hunter green, trick arrows, and a lullaby she couldn't remember.

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