Wally might be the fastest man alive, but obviously he had underestimated the speed of his worst enemy, the common cold, or in his case, Pneumonia. It had started out with a small chest cold. One morning he just had a little more trouble breathing, and the occasional cough. He had taken a Tylenol for the sinus head ach but didn't have time for much ells due to the arrival of two meda-humans in less than one week. It wasn't till he took a good hit to the rib from the secant meda-human that he realized how much slower he was moving. After shaking off the concerned glance from his friend John in full Green Lantern mode, Flash had headed back to central city and his apartment.
Wally knows he underestimated this cold when he collapses just inside the door of his apartment. Sometime after the sun light disappeared into shadows he managed to crawl to his couch, where he collapsed once more. He's not sure how long he's been out when the phone wakes him up. Sunlight streaming through the broken blinds of the kitchen window and at some point he made one of the discarded sweaters into a blanket because he couldn't make it to the bedroom. He rolls over with a groan, noticing for the first time how sore and bruised every muscle in his body feels. His eyes are nearly sealed shut with goop and his lung feel like they are filled with fluid.
He groans when the phone just keeps ringing, and after about half a dozen rings he manages to grab the cordless and press the speaker. John's voice was fierce over the intercom, "Flash, where the hell are you? You missed your shift, you were assigned to the Bat and he's scaring the shit out of everyone…"
Wally groaned and leaned off the coach enough to see the clock in the kitchen proclaiming it to be noon, but he couldn't be certain whether he had ever taken the time to set the clock so he asks John in a croaky whisper, "What time is it?"
John paused in his monologue long enough to ask, "Are you alright?" which only hits home how crappy he sounds and feels. After a minute John says, "It's a quarter past three, where are you?"
Wally groans again and attempts to sit up, but only ends up sweating and exhausted so he mutters into the phone, "Sorry John, not going to happen." John started to say something but Wally already hung up and rolled over. He quickly found himself in that spot between awake and asleep where he could still hear the ringing of the phone and the yelling on the answering machine but was unable to even register it enough to try and move let alone answer the phone.
After a while the phone stopped ringing and Wally had never realized how blessed silence could be, he didn't even feel the need to keep up an antennary in his head. His mind and body seamed to relax, slightly, just enough for Wally to fall into slumber. Wally was having a very weird dream, he knew part of it was probably because his body temperature was even hotter than his normal temperature. In his dream he was running and running, but not moving at all and the batman was beside him, asking him if he was an idiot in his gravelly voice. Wally knew he was feverish when he turned to him and asked, "How did you get into my dream?"
Wally winced at the sound of his own voice, all weak and low. He must have actually spoken out loud because the sound of his own voice woke him up. He groaned deep in his throat when he tried and failed to sit up on the coach. He was about to just collapse back into his own sweaty heap, because yes, he was practically soaked through with sweat but strong hands gripped his shoulders. In a matter of secants he went from relaxed, to freaked out because someone was in his apartment, to closed eyed exhaustion, struggling for even a secant in that grasped had drained him of almost all of his energy.
He could tell he was shivering, vibrating practically, as those same strong arms wrapped around him lifting him up off the coach. His teeth were chattering and he thoughts his toes were going numb from cold but then he remembered that he really wasn't cold, he had a fever. He fell into that haze again, to where he wasn't even sure what he saw was dream or nightmare or maybe reality. He stayed in that haze for a while, and then, finally he jerked awake with a shout.
Wally panicked. He could feel his heart rate speeding up, but he was moving so slow. He wasn't on his couch or even in his apartment. After a few frantic secants he realized he was in some sort of infirmary. He stared at the IV hooked up to his arms and wondered what was in it. He was just about to pull the needle from his arm, because it itched like crazy when a familiar, gravely voice said, "Don't touch it."
Wally looked up as Batman entered the infirmary, which now that he looked at it seemed vaguely familiar. He looked at Batman and asked in a croak, "What happened?"
Batman walked over, pulled off one of his gauntlets to reveal smooth skin, and then proceeded to place his hand on Wally's forehead. Wally tried not to blush, batman was touching him, skin on skin touching him. Maybe he was still asleep, if so he really hoped he didn't wake up. Batman made that nearly silent hum, that meant he was thinking, then pulled his hand away. Wally forced himself not to whine at the loss of contact just because he wasn't sure if this was a dream or not.
Batman took a step back and Wally saw that although he was wearing the cowl, the lids where down so he could see his eyes. Batman looked into his eyes for a moment before asking, "What is the last thing you remember?"
Wally tried not to let his heart skip, because that wasn't Batman's voice that was Bruce's voice, and he had only herd it a few times. After a moment he eventually choked out, "I was sick and fell asleep on my coach."
Batman made a slight noise that sounded like a hum and said, "You had a cold that escalated to pneumonia. When we brought you in you had a fever of a hundred and ten, a normal person would have been dead before their body temperature reached that point and you were completely dehydrated. We had to slow you down long enough to cool you down and get you re-hydrated. It will be a week or so before your super speed returns."
Wally yelped, "A WEEK?"
Batman nodded and Wally started hyperventilating, "I can't even go an hour how am I suppose to go a week?"
Batman sighed and said, "Wally, you almost died. If I hadn't gone to your apartment to chew you out, against Green Lantern's wishes, you would be dead and you wouldn't be freaking out right now. Take a deep breath and just relax, this week will go by faster than you know it, you'll probably sleep through most of it."
Wally laughed and said, "Damn, how screwed up must I be, to have batman telling me to relax."
Batman glared and Wally ducked down in the bed as he attempted to stop laughing, because it really hurt and made him realize, "I'm starving."
Batman sighed and said, "You know there was actually a betting pool on how long it would take you to ask for food."
Wally gave a shit eater-grin and said, "I try to please the masses."
Batman gave him that look, the I-would-really-like-to-strangle-you-right-now, look. Wally cringed inwardly but managed to keep it slightly concealed, although Batman, being Batman probably noticed. Batman turned, cape flaring as he walked out of eyesight for a moment and returned with an actual tray with soup. Batman placed the tray on his lap, Wally stared down at it for a moment before asking, "Um… Soup?"
Batman crossed his arms and Wally winced inwardly. Batman raised an eyebrow, or at least Wally thought he raised an eyebrow behind the cowl, he couldn't actually see to verify that suspicion. Wally swallowed nervously before reaching over and gripped the spoon. Damn, his hands were shaking, like he was some sort of druggy. Wally was attempting to adjust his grip when Batman sighed and said, "Here let me."
