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I don't have any rights to DC.

Reviews;

MyNameIsWolf: Thank you, I tried to really put the picture there of where he woke up and what was going on.

Goldenbrook15: Thanks! I hope the next day is soon enough!

Discoveries, Chapter 2.


His first stop was, naturally, Central City.

He zipped in, trepidation keeping him from stopping for a snack the way his body tried to demand. He'd already eaten on his way, emptied his arm cupboards, picked up kuchen once he hit Chile's southern coast, and snagged a few coxinha on his way out of Brazil. After that he had been too nervous to continue eating, even when his body told him he should.

Once he reached the city proper he slowed to what was for him a light jog. To everyone else it was streak of red and yellow.

The city was, for the most part, just the way he'd left it. The hot June sun beat down on it, forcing many into the safety of the indoors and the air conditioning. The cement rippled with waves of heat, fluttering into the sky. He pitying the dogs hot-hopping on the sidewalks, their paws probably burning horribly.

He was lucky his suite kept temperature at a regulated pace, preventing burning from friction and freezing from snow. Others were less fortunate, stuck in as few layers as they could possibly manage.

It was called Missouri for a reason.

There were some things wrong with it though. The technology was old, stuff he hadn't seen since he was a kid. There wasn't a single Apple product, it was all Nokia and Siemens, and infant Samsung phones. Even the Wayne Tech was low grade.

Shop windows had toys from shows that he hadn't seen in years. Rugrats, Hey Arnold!, Buzz Lightyear, and more he'd forgotten even existed.

It was surreal.

An abandoned newspaper that lay forlornly on the ground in front of his parents house gave him an answer to a question that he had barely dared contemplate in his sprint. He stood stock still in the neighborhood, under the tree that had been in his yard for years. The paper hung limply in his gloved hands.

June 20, 1999.

He had gone back in time.


He had not gone back in time.

If he had simply gone back in time he would have been able to run up to his uncle, blurt out an explanation and receive help, of some kind, any kind. If he had gone back in time he would have a vague idea of how to reverse it, or he could have found someone who owed him a favor who could do it. Worst case scenario he would have to avoid paradoxes by never touching his small self.

This was much, much worse.

On his way in there had been something about the city aside from the technology and the old pop culture that had bothered him. He hadn't been able to place it until he was standing in front of his uncles house in hastily 'borrowed' civies. Whatever was going on he didn't need to be caught or draw attention to himself yet.

When he'd gone to door to knock firmly it had opened to the familiar face of his uncle, blond hair and bright eyes. He had looked at Wally and the young man was struck with the sudden realization that there was something wrong.

Every speedster, each and every one of them no matter how old or young, had an air about them perceptible only to others of their own kind. He's felt it with Bart the instant they met, with Barry and Jay as soon as he woke with powers. On one memorable occasion with the Wonder Ladies he'd been nearly overwhelmed with the sparking speed of Hermes himself.

That presence, the hum of Speed Force that cloaked them, buzzing under their skin and revealing their nature to one another, was gone. It wasn't in Barry and with a horrible start Wally realized that the thing wrong with the city, what he hadn't been able to place, was something missing.

There were no kids in red shirts with lightning bolts, there wasn't a poster or an action figure of the scarlet speedsters. Statues, the museum, it was all gone. Or rather, it had never existed.

The Flash didn't exist.

Green eyes grew wide and welled till they were cloudy in the face of blue that turned from curious to concerned in a way so familiar it was like a stab in the chest.

Instinct took over and Wally did what he had he had been doing all day. He ran.

He ran from his uncle, from his home, from the city that had once been his. He ran without direction, his feet taking him without thought or direction to the familiar, standing peak of Mount Justice, which had never seen the actions of heroes or hosted a gaggle of teenagers trying to make their own place in the world.

That day its peak hosted a speedster, the only speedster on that plane of existence. He sat for hours, his speed turning internal. Questions, answers and observations shot through his mind at blinding speeds. Eventually he realized he needed more information, and found himself in cyber café in Happy Harbor. He checked around, searching first for the Flash.

Nothing came up that he was looking for, not even Jay's career. Wally's fears were confirmed. There was no Flash. None at all.

Chewing his lip nervously Wally typed again, searching for Artemis. As he had predicted, all he got were results on the Greek Goddess. Another search revealed little about her family, only that everyone except for her was currently active. There wasn't a single record he could find on her, only on reports of assassinations that fit the profile of her dad and sister, made more disturbing by the fact that at this time Jade was barely 10. Paula Crock was still in jail.

Wally made a note to run by Gotham and check on her before he searching for the cities resident vigilante. The reports went back two years, rumors and gossip more than actual confirmation. There wasn't a Robin involved, which lead him to search for his best friend. A sigh of relief fell from him when he only found a link to Haly's Circus. His parents were fine, and Dick hadn't even made his premier. And, by Wally's time line, wouldn't for another four years.

Maybe he could make sure that this one turned out better.

Planning could wait for later. He still needed to know where everyone was. Conner next, though he doubted he would find anything.

The search engine sent him to articles on Superman, who was perfectly content to fly around Metropolis it seemed.

The next few searches were, well, they were strange.

There was no record of Wonder Woman or Aquaman, let alone their partners, though Green Arrow was cited as being in Star City, information about him holding for only a few months. Black Canary was story of the past. The Martians too, there was nothing not related to Looney Toons about them. Green Lanterns were known, which was something.

As he sat there a horrible, aching loneliness curled into Wally's chest, threatening to stop the breath from entering his lungs.

All of his friends were either children or didn't exist, his family wouldn't believe him if he went to them, his girlfriend was a fraction of his age.

It struck him that here, in this world, he was completely and utterly alone.

Death would have kinder.


Even running didn't help him to feel better, an activity that had once placed a crown upon his head now dropped to become a noose around his neck.

He was so much faster, the Speed Force sang under his skin like a choir every time he passed thirty miles per hour. He had always wanted to be quicker, ever since they realized he was the slowest of all three runners. That only got worse when Bart arrived an accented exactly how slow the he was. It was never the best for self-esteem when a thirteen year old can outrun you.

He had wished to be faster but right then, standing in front of his house and watching his dad play catch with a little ginger, he would have given up both of his legs if it meant being able to just go home.

When his mom came out with orders to go into dinner, her home made pizza, his stomach reminded him that no matter how sick he felt and no matter how close to a break down he was he still had a metabolism to watch.

It was only the fact that if his girlfriend -or was she his ex now?- ever found out he was willing to skip a meal she would find creative ways to mangle him that got the boy moving again, shaking his legs out in the jeans that were two sizes too big.

He was going to have to figure out where to sleep to, and how to even pay for his food until he could.

He always kept money in his suite, all four of them did, or used to, in case they needed it. It wasn't just American money, he had Paso's, Yen and Euro as well. Not that those did him a whole lot of good state side but he was set if he decided to get dinner from Di Matteo.

In the end he settled for a few burgers and a bench in the park, one he had to split with the familiar face of Gregg Tarsh. He'd known him forever, he'd split sandwiches with him every Saturday for eight years.

This Gregg didn't even know his name.

Still, true to his kind nature he was willing to offer a jacket he really couldn't spare to a boy who was shivering in a stolen T-Shirt.

Wally added another note to his growing list to help the old veteran however he could when he finally got on his feet, the last note he was able to make before the day caught up with him and darkness slipped over his eyes.

If one looked carefully they might notice shining tracks leading down his cheeks.


The helicopter roared above their heads, blowing white powder all around. Spot lights pointed at a thin sliver of darkness standing stark against the snow, a body print sprawled next to it. Photographers in military uniforms surrounded the area, snapping shots before anything could change. Scientists in fur lined coats ran around, setting up tents and measuring energy. Already people were preparing a long stick to poke at the slice in the air.

The 'copter touched down, making way for a woman who's dark skin was stark against the uniform parka that her escorts shared.

"What have we got?" she asked, voice loud over the slicing blades above her head.

Someone nearby with free hands saluted. Everyone else just squared their shoulders in a variation of Attention while they went about their work.

The nearest scientist was the one to report, "We're not sure yet."

"Explain," she ordered tersely.

"The energy anomaly left behind what we believe to be a scar in reality, a sort of wound in the space time continuum," he said gesturing to the sliver of lightless void. "It's already smaller than when we got here, we think it might be closing on its own. That's why we're working so fast to get as much data as we can."

The helicopter finally stopped, letting them speak only over the force of the arctic wind.

"And that?" she asked, pointing to the imprint on the ground.

The scientist frowned. "That," he said slowly, "Was there when we got here. The scar was originally big enough for a person to go through. A five foot eight inch person, if you want to get exact."

The woman's lips turned a thin line of displeasure. "Are you telling me that someone came through that thing?"

"Yes," he nodded, "We're almost positive about that. "

"And where would this person be now?" she asked, voice as frosty as the ground beneath their feet.

"We don't really know," he admitted, looking anywhere else but in her eyes. She had a reputation that preceded her, one for being ruthless and harsh.

"I suggest you find out before we learn if it's a threat or not." Her 'suggestion' was clearly an order, one that set the scientist to nodding rapidly and fleeing as soon as he found a place to go, leaving her alone.

Amanda Waller stood above the angel of a person who had fallen into their world, even the snow hardly daring to disturb her thoughts.