This song is Lights by Ellie Goulding and it's amazing. So after/while you read this, I recommend you look it up. You probably already know it. But just in case. Anyway, for this songfic, I simply listened to this song with headphones and closed eyes. The story played out in front of my eyes, so I jotted down the main ideas and gave them a bit of life. A crappy life to live, I do admit, but… ergh.

Disclaimer: I don't own the song or the characters.

I had a way then, losing it all on my own

Nowhere was safe from their fighting; that was the depressing realization Wally came to when his parents' voices cut through the walls and into his subconscious, snapping him from what could've been a good dream. Some nights they were decent enough to argue in hushed breaths as to let their son sleep, but more often than not they found themselves screaming loud enough to rattle the glasses hanging above their heads in the kitchen. That was their battlegrounds, so it seemed, where the bombs would really fall and let their wake consume all foolish enough to stand in the way.

The little boy hopelessly folded his pillow so one half bent up around the back of his head and over his exposed ear, clamping his pale palms down hard against his head. He screwed his eyes up tight, trying to remember the words to 'The Brave Little Monster' to drown out their harsh words, getting no better result than before. No matter how hard he thought, all he could hear was the gun shots two walls away and the disregard for the innocent young life within blast range. Tears burnt the brim of averted emeralds, their gaze burning holes in the comfy cotton white beneath them.

I had a heart then but the queen has been overthrown

Wally knew if he kept his eyes open, there wouldn't be any chance of him escaping this real-life nightmare, so he forced them shut again. The pressure pushed a warm tear from the wrinkled slit of his eye, trailing it over the bridge of his nose to the pillow. One-by-one, others followed until a sticky trail was carved over his freckles, his teeth bared to keep himself silent. He couldn't get involved with this, not again. He'd rather just hear them and imagine there's a third person in the room with them than see who they're really fighting.

For someone of his age, barely started with his young life, he had become relatively used to the shouts that melded in with his air like oxygen, but there was always one point that could break him clean through. It was when a feminine scream would sound and he wouldn't hear his mom yell back for a long while. That meant his father had gained the upper hand, such a hand Wally was terrified of being in the presence of. Knowing it was housed in the same general vicinity as him made his tears gain a faster pace.

And I'm not sleeping now the dark is too hard to beat

Wally hopelessly snapped his eyes open, his mother's words returning with a trembling vengeance, any chance of slumber fleeing from the scene with such speeds he longed to mimic. His eyes locked with the blinking dots on his modem, fisting the pillow nearest his face in an unbreakable death grip. Their screams lasted on, louder now, making it a wonder to his delicate mind as to how the neighbors hadn't intervened yet. Allies were sure to fly in soon, right?

It wasn't that easy in a war. He could beg and plead all he wanted, waving his white flag along the highway side in hopes of flagging down someone to ease the pain within the four main walls, but he'd never find someone with enough power to bring an olive branch into his parents' grasps. It wouldn't stop him from trying though.

"I'm going to fix this…" he whispered, pulling back the covers to his bed and silently sneaking to his closet, pulling on a pair of pajama pants and a baggy shirt.

In a second, he had his black Nikes over his mismatching blue and green socks, his hands hovering on the window pane. He tried thinking of another way to escape, seeing that the drop was nearly ten feet, but the second he would touch the doorknob, he just knew his parents would descend on him like bloodthirsty hawks. It's what they always did, which is why he found himself ever so tenderly throwing back the locks to the white frame that kept him from the outside world.

And I'm not keeping now the strength I need to push me

He paused, his hands shaking lightly as he wiped his tears from his cheeks and sniffled. The second his noise sounded, he heard the screams stop cold in their tracks. They heard. They knew he was awake. His hammering heart threw the lock the rest of the way, lightly pushing up on that ledge just enough to grab the bottom of the pane. It was heavy to his seven year old stature, but he pushed as hard as he could without a single complaint. He had to escape. He had to get help. That was all he needed to focus on, so it's all he did. All of his strength was put into it until the glass was raised to his eyes, a perfect escapable height.

His fists were desperately beating against the screen, trying to remove it with his best attempts, as he heard his doorknob turn. That alone dropped him to his bed to even him with the cross-woven net, leveraging him enough that he could begin to kick it, remembering seeing someone in a movie do that. For once, being a movie buff helped. On his sixth kick, he punctured a hole into the screen, bringing a shaky grin to his lips. He leapt back to his feet, peeling back the edges. Just as he had the screen resting on his floor, one thigh resting on the ledge as his door was slammed open.

You show the lights that stop me turn to stone

A hand flitted out into the room, flicking the light on and reigning high over the darkness that before had peacefully settled into the region that had made up the ginger's room. The sight of it froze Wally on the ledge, turning his head back to meet his mother's gaze. The tears streaking his face caught her off-guard, her lips falling agape with such an expression that allowed Wally to look back and toss his other leg down beside the first so they dangled above the ground. Fear kicked in at the insane height, his breath catching rough in his throat.

"Wally! Get inside or I swear to God, I'll beat you until you-!" his father pushed his mom to the floor, running towards him.

His nearing presence shoved Wally out the window like a gust of window, causing him to stumble as he landed wrong on his feet. He cried out in pain, falling to his knees and holding himself up with weak arms. Bitter tears still fell, pain now joining their many reasons for falling. He couldn't stay down though; he couldn't let his dad see how weak he was. Wally forced himself to his feet, biting his lips to keep from making a noise at the pain, turning his gaze up to his window. His father was at the ledge now, looking down at him with disappointment in his gaze.

You shine it when I'm alone

The ginger bit his lip, the light haloing his guardian reminding him of every other time he had done this. They always thought turning his light on would keep him from leaving them, but it was more of a fuse than anything else, launching him farther and farther from Ground Zero. Just the fact that they kept it on, watching him with those eyes was enough to give him the power to keep standing, backing him out of the driveway slowly, his eyes never leaving his dad's. That harsh stare seemed to remind the boy of what all he had.

What all he didn't have, if you wanted to be more accurate. His house was void of anything to be proud of, unless you could live a life of happiness purely from Grand Theft Auto and Madden on Play Station 2, with nothing more than the silence and pain to hold the extra controller and challenge him. Not a sibling or friend did he hold to his name, afraid to bring anyone to his house and even more afraid to admit that someone outside his family life was willing to help him by stealing him away from the pain. All of that was said in the depressing stare, driving another tear from his eye.

And so I tell myself that I'll be strong and dreaming when they're gone

When the figure in the window started to back up as well, Wally fished the strength he needed from his core, feeding it to his feet and turning on his heels. And that's when he started running. He didn't care where he went or how he got there; he just knew he had to be there if he wanted to escape all this. Escape. The blissful thought numbed his legs from exhaustion, even the briefest notion of silence every night while he slept and smiles at the dinner table giving him the faintest glimmer of hope. Suddenly, he wasn't a resident of a broken house. He was a little boy with a dream.

He pumped his arms fast, his Nikes slapping the asphalt at a face past, his face set hard as the tears continued to fall. He focused his thoughts on how life would be if his parents weren't there. He imagined living with his Uncle Barry and his Aunt Iris, a life free from experiencing World War III every night just by passing by. His imagination was all that kept him from collapsing to the earth where the sobs would consume his smaller frame.

'Cause they're calling, calling, calling me home. Calling, calling, calling home.

He hadn't made it very far in his head, or so it seemed, because in the distance he swore he heard faint breaths on the wind, breaths he never wanted to hear.

"Wally!" one breezed by, nipping roughly at his exposed cheek.

"Please come back!" whipped another, drawing a shaky cry from his lips.

He was well aware of the realization that he was much to far from his parents for their voices to reach his ears, but the horror that hovered also stayed because it meant he had their voices wedged into his mind. It meant those vicious tones could haunt his dreams, the one place he felt safe. They could creep into his unconsciousness, the only state on the planet he knew he was free from their wrath. He didn't have to drive a mile to get there and the stay was always so perfect, no matter how bad the movie he had to watch was. Anything was better than being home.

"Please don't run, baby," a coo crawled into his mind, drawing a terrified scream from his lips.

He clapped his hands over his ears and ducked his head as he kept on running, his mouth open as if that's where he wanted the voice to flee from, tears still sliding hard down his cheeks.

"Stay out of my head!" he roared, not quite sure to who he was yelling at.

Security? Safety? Assurance? Those three were the only things with him as he ran, freedom loosely tagging along in his shadow, only adding a fourth to the long list of things he felt he needed. Now that he had them though, he wasn't quite sure what to do with them. They scared him, nearly as much as the darkness that was swallowing him as he ran through the turn in the road. He had never felt these emotions and had no idea what they were, afraid it was fear again in its worst form. He was so lost…

The trees and blurry turn warnings were all he could make out, not even the moon aiding him while he fled to safety, as if warning him. He didn't care though. He wasn't stopping this time. He was going to run until his legs were nubs, and even past then, he could crawl his fingers down past the bone. He was going to be safe, no matter how far he had to go.

You show the lights that stop me turn to stone. You shine It when I'm alone

One last step and he found himself drowned in sudden light. Street lights, headlights, store signs and starlight pounded him hard, stopping his fast pace and toppling him to his knees. He whimpered, hiding his face in his hands in a hope to fight the coming on headache that already raged at his temples. It wasn't just the lights that tortured him so; they had dropped his guard and now all the pain swarmed him at once. The agony was nearly too much to take.

The exhaustion from his legs, the ache of his tears, the tightness of his chest, the strain of his heart and the struggle fought to breathe stung worse than nearly anything he could think of. It was a lot to take in, especially for someone his age. He was broken only mentally so far, the physical side oncoming soon if he couldn't get up.

Home

His eyes opened temporarily at the thought of what would happen if he didn't get up. Someone would come for him and he'd be taken home. He'd be forced back into the cold and hateful arms of his parents. He'd have to cry himself back to sleep. He'd have to lie to the neighbors. Wally didn't remember getting up and running again, but he did remember that when he hit, it was gravel digging into his cheek, not asphalt.

"No…" he growled to himself, desperately pushing on the ground, trying to get back to his trembling feet.

The rocks stabbed at his palms, drawing faint little noises from his lips, but he still pushed on, tears hitting the white chalk substance beneath him. He curled his legs in, setting his knees to the earth and managing to get that far up. That's all he could do though. His muscles screamed in agony, begging him for sleep with such a wrath that he buckled and found himself surrounded in the comfort of darkness again.

Noises, I play within my head

A pang of consciousness cut his darkness, the wail of sirens drawing a shaky groan from his frown, but he was sure it wasn't there. It was just like his parents' cries. His parents wouldn't worry enough to call the police for their help on finding him and returning him home. They were always fighting about him anyway; if he was such a nuisance, they surely couldn't need him that much. The sirens were really loud, come to think of it… as if they were coming over the hill now.

"No… way…" he forced one eyelid to part, whimpering as his world was blinded in a bright light, unconsciousness pulling him hard under the surface again.

Touch my own skin and hope that I'm still breathing in an unlocked place; the only time I feel safe

When his consciousness kicked in again, he found himself curled up in the seat of a car, his face resting against the cold glass of a car window. When did it start raining? Wally blinked his eyes slowly, lifting his head up and looking down at his hands. He slowly curled his hands into fists and uncurled them, making sure his body still worked, trying to figure out what was going on. At first, he suspected he was being kidnapped, but when he saw that the door was unlocked and the screen separating him from the driver was gone, he felt much better.

"You aren't going to take me home, are you?" he asked quietly, staring down at the door handle with shy eyes.

It was about this time he recognized himself to be in a police cruiser, safe and sound with the lock not thrown. Anyone could open the door and come in, but for some reason, he felt a bit more secure in this moment. He had no intention of opening the door and escaping, at least not until the man replied.

"You don't want to go home?" the officer's voice was surprised, but it stayed rather calm.

Wally shook his head madly, going to wipe at his tears when he found them to be already gone. He wasn't crying anymore? That brought a faint smile to his lips, giving him cause to stare at his reflection in the window.

"No," he took a heavy breath, frowning as he recognized his father's features written over his own. "If I go home, they'll just start fighting again…"

You show the lights that stop me turn to stone

Wally set his thumb to his temple, resting his index finger along his brow as he scanned the beach lightly, making sure they hadn't forgotten anything. The ocean was peaceful in the distance, the waves melding with the grains of sand beneath his sandals instead of their usual beating along the shoreline. The roar was now but a playful purr, the weather warm and fairing well for the team of heroes who were taking the day off.

"I can feel it in my gut, Rob! I didn't grab something!" he stubbornly retorted the hidden navy gaze, frowning hard.

Dick backpedaled to the ginger's side, popping up onto his tiptoes with a bit of difficulty, slinging his arm around the pale neck to keep a bit of balance. He wobbled still, or at least until a pale hand took sympathy and secured his wrist while the emerald gaze continued to search. The smaller of the two stared up with a smirk, mischief playing heavy on his features.

"I don't know how you can feel anything in that gut of yours," he taunted, using his free hand to jab said legendary gut with his index and middle finger, "I figured its bottomless pit left you without any feeling."

Wally gasped and recoiled, immediately doubling over and hugging his stomach with tender arms. He tried glaring at the ebony, but he ended up grinning ear-to-ear.

"Ha, ha!" he sarcastically laughed, rolling his eyes and punching the boy's shoulder. "That's so funny! I could just die laughing! Why don't you join me?"

Dick gave a surprised squeak as his friend lunged for him, narrowly avoiding the arm intended to choke him with a festive giggle.

"I'd love to, Gingey, but I don't have the right pair of shades for it. I must've left them in my other trunks," he shrieked, rolling over the sand and blasting to his feet, running after the rest of the team who he was convinced would protect him.

He was lacking his legendary whelmage if he were to even think a moment that he could outrun a Flash, even if this Flash did lack the proper last name to match his vision. [1] Wally descended on him in a breath, about ready to tackle him in a hug to the sand with a laugh when Dick tripped over the umbrella that had been hidden beneath the sand that the ginger had been missing. He turned in his fall, hitting his back to the ground and instinctively throwing his arms up over his face in defense.

At the sight, Wally stopped on a dime, his eyes growing wide. In his mind, his best friend quickly became his mom, hiding on the floor of the kitchen from his dad's touch.

You shine it when I'm alone

The sunlight struck the younger boy gently, hitting him in all the right places to illuminate how vulnerable he looked; to project how helpless he was if Wally wanted to do anything. It was enough to back Wally up a step, his face traveling back to a traumatized expression. He didn't hear his best friend call his name. He didn't see the others turn around fast and rush to his side. He didn't feel the hands that lightly shook him, trying to awaken him. He was far from the world, drowning in the darkest part of his mind.

It was that part of his mind without an ounce of light to it, nothing visible no matter how hard you squint or how close you get. It was isolation from the world, a place where no one could hurt him until his eyes were reopened. The snap came a lot faster than expected, and a lot closer, causing it to be the first thing his eyes became aware of. Conner's hand lowered from in front of his face, instead meeting his gaze with confused eyes. It was just Conner. He wasn't sure why, but that was a relief.

And so I tell myself that I'll be strong

"You okay, KF?" Dick's voice was slow and cautious, sounding from where he couldn't be seen.

The ginger took a shaky breath, rubbing his neck in an effort to shake off the bad vibes that tried reversing his preferred vibrations. He blinked the rest off, nodding lightly. It didn't look like a confirmation nod though; it seemed as if he was clearing his head free from whatever had lodged itself up there.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he lied, surprised to see all of the others were around him. "I'm fine. Geez, I'm a big boy. I don't need paparazzi…"

No one moved an inch, all expectantly watching him, which only worsened the vibes, adding to his frustration. Their stares bored holes into his flesh, a feeling he didn't like.

"What?" he snapped, throwing his arms up in an angry surrender. "What do you want?"

He stopped again as they all jumped, catching the surprise and hints of fear in their gazes which again worsened the mood. He lowered his hands, brushing the two or three strands up off his forehead with a shaky sigh, walking past them lightly.

"We… we kind of expected a comment…" Artemis began hesitantly.

She helplessly looked over to Megan who had been thinking the exact same, her eyebrows furrowed with the worry that just seemed contagious, spreading through the warm air like a wildfire.

"About us, you know? Something flirty?" she laughed half-heartedly.

Wally's eyes widened, near appalled that he hadn't unconsciously slipped something out by now. He couldn't believe himself! The Wallman was killing his reputation! He was nothing if not a flirt!

"I'm sorry…" he muttered, blinking his eyes up at the glow of the sun, being sure not to get a direct look. "Just…"

He was surprised to find that Dick still laid in the sand, resting on his elbows, his eyes wide as they met the emerald gaze. Wally bit his lip lightly, forgetting that he had left a thought hanging with the others, crossing the earth and holding out his hand for the ebony to take, helping him back to his feet.

"Had one of those flashback things," he muttered, touching his opposite hand to the tan elbow as to assure himself that he wouldn't drop the thirteen year old.

Being the proper best friend he was, Dick understood without a single thought needing to have been put into it. He was familiar with said flashbacks, hearing stories of them all the time with a few experience stories of his own.

"The divorce or abuse?" his voice weakly breathed back.

The blue eyed babe turned around ever so barely, brushing the sand from the back of his trunks before bending down to grab the umbrella that had tripped him. Wally reached out, lightly brushing some sand from his best friend's back, pulling back quick when Dick flinched under the touch. He curled his floating hand into a limp fist, staring down at the sand.

"Abuse…" he coughed lightly.

Dick straightened with a sigh, slipping the multi-colored umbrella into the ginger's bag, lightly hugging him with one arm. He offered a sympathetic glance, but Wally shrugged it off with a light brush of his hand.

"I'm heading back, call if you need me," he dismissed himself, causing Dick to grab his arm quick.

He confusedly met the gaze of the head below his, raising an eyebrow as to why he was being stopped. Wally tried to tell the bird-boy in Batanese that he just needed to be alone, but it seemed he wasn't as fluent as he hoped. Either that or Dick was really stubborn.

"You sure you're okay?" the ebony asked, the worry on his tone much more apparent.

Wally forced a nod, lightly swatting the hand from his arm. It's not that he didn't like the touch; it just worsened his frown and he didn't want to seem any weaker than he felt.

"Just gonna get a bite to eat," he smiled, starting to walk off.

Dick smiled lightly after him, "You and I both know a bite isn't going to do anything but make you hungrier."

And dreaming when they're gone

Wally forced a grin and a wave before he become a blur across the sand, letting the traumatization fall back over his features where no one could see it. He was alone again, running as far as he could from those he trusted, just like he had done so long ago. He imagined the darkness closing in on him, the police sirens blaring loud in the background, only fueling his feet to hit the sand harder. He didn't know where he was going.

Before, the thing he tried to run from was actually escapable, compared to the memories he was now hopelessly beating his sandals against the gravel to lose. They followed him like a plague, making him sicker and sicker until it seemed only death would free him from their wrath. He wasn't the suicidal type though, so he figured a few pieces of pizza would work as well as a torch to his skin, burning off the infection.

He thought he had escaped it the day custody was assigned to his godparents; the haunting feelings and the memories that weighed him down like an iceberg taken straight to the helm, but that was like saying every, "I love you" exchanged was meant. The memories were all he had left of the one thing he had once feared, but now only longed for every night as his eyes shut: a place to call

Home.

[1] Allen Eyes reference. Ahem.

I know. Crappy ending. The switch-off from when he was little to the season one time made no sense at all and wasn't needed. His parents probably never did this. He never would've collapsed on the side of the road. He never would've snapped at the team. Look, I know! I just put what the song showed in my head. If you don't like it, please feel free to make your own and link it to me. I'm not in the mood. Review?

-F.J. III