Heroes didn't often live long.

Oh god, it hurts.

If they did, it's because they retired young.

Artemis is gonna kill me.

Either by choice or by force.

I never said…

But there's always a world to save.

I'm sorry.

And far, far too few people to save it.

I'm so sorry.

That was why, in the middle of the Arctic, one Wally West died. Or, at least, everyone thought he did.

June 10, 2016 at approximately 13:48 UTC, Wally West, alias Kid Flash, died.

Five minutes later, Wally West breathed in warm air.

Slowly, he licked his lips, feeling them crack as they moved. Something gritty coated them. Sand? His eyes certainly felt irritated enough for it. His eyes blinked open, which was a frankly useless endeavor considering his vision was severely blurred. Through the haze, he stared at the night sky above. Something about that struck him as wrong, but he failed to put his finger on it.

It didn't even cross his mind that there was something else far more concerning.

Well, at first, anyway.

He shot up, sand spraying from his body. His gaze surveyed the environment as his vision cleared, panic building into a knot in his throat. He began to tally the evidence before him.

One, he (probably) wasn't dead.

Two, he was in a (vastly) different location.

Three, he was alone.

The fourth and last point came nearly a full minute later. The sky had bothered him before, but now he knew what it was. The stars were wrong. He would never claim to be an expert on the matter, but he knew, without a doubt, that he was right.

All of those points separately were of little meaning, but together it painted a troubling picture.

"Not in Kansas anymore," Wally muttered.

He wasn't on a beach, which would have been preferable to the desert he was surrounded by.

He began walking, grumbling curses under his breath. Oh, how he wished he wasn't utterly drained.

He walked.

And walked.

And walked.

Needless to say, when black SUVs sped toward him in the distance, he was a little more conflicted than he should've been. Running away meant no food or water for the foreseeable future. Letting them come to him meant possible capture and experimentation. He might have been over exaggerating on that last point, but he was delirious. Sue him.

He ran, like the smart guy he (sometimes) was. His pace, however, was that of a normal human. He was far too drained. Inevitably, they caught up, encircling him quickly and efficiently. He just stared. A balding man in a suit climbed out the back of the vehicle directly in front of him.

He flashed a badge before hold his hand out, "Agent Coulson, SHIELD. It's a pleasure Mr…"

"Coulson" gazed imploringly at him.

"West," Wally's mind halted. What if they were the bad guys? Wally was too rare. "John West. My friends call me Johnny."

It was almost embarrassing how proud he was of that lie.

He raised an eyebrow, but didn't push the matter, "Would you like a ride, Johnny?"

They eyed each other, decidedly trying to figure the other out.

"You got snacks?"

Coulson's smile was all he needed.

Hey, he might be strapped down to a table later, but for all he knew they had cookies in there.

First go at this sort of crossover (Wally traveling through multiple realities). Read a couple like this and wanted to try my hand. Feel free to suggest fandoms for me to stick him in (I may take you suggestions, I may not, depends on if I know the series.) Next chapters will be at least 1000 words.

As always, I feed on comments, favs, and follows.

~R.A.N.