Author's Note: Hey guys, I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed, really means a lot!

Anyway, i'm alive, just barely after my second quarter of college, its killing me mostly my english courses, lucky i only have to take one more. I know you all are wanting Breaking Speed, and i have made a TON of progress on that story, and its getting, eh I'm not going to spoil it for you, but as my profile says i got a lot done :P and that story is going to be long!

Lastly this chapter, i dedicate to those who have lost someone in this kind of situation, it can be really heartbreaking and tragic for everyone. But this chapter right now really goes to my twin sister and the Sorority Alpha Xi Delta of Bowling Green State University. On March 2, 2012 my sister lost 3 of her Sorority sisters who were going on a trip for Spring Break. The three were killed by a driver driving on the wrong side of the highway, hitting them head on and 90mph, killing the other driver as well. The sheriff said he didn't believe that the students saw the car coming. The two that survived the crash are currently still in the hospital receiving treatment. So this is for my twin sister and Alpha Xi Delta of BGSU.

So...here is chapter 7 of The Speedsters

Summary: Speedsters hate cars. Reason #2

Warnings: Blood, Alcohol, drunk driving,

Disclaimer:I Don't Own Young Justice!


I only had just one

I swear that's the truth

That kid came out of nowhere

There was nothing I could do

I couldn't swerve, I couldn't stop

Now here i am asking God

What have I done?

I only had just one.

~ Just One (Lisa Shaffer)


Chapter Seven: Twisted Metal

Wally was tired-no, scratch that, he was exhausted. He had just spent the entire day in Keystone City helping Grandpa Jay clean up after a terrible storm had hit, which caused a large tree to fall on part of their house, consequently leaving tremendous damage to their home.

The speedster could have simply run over to help, but no, they needed his truck. And since Uncle Barry wasn't going to be home until later that evening, Iris had sent only Wally to help. So, Wally decided to drag Roy and Dick along to help.

The long, five-hour drive was full of speed limit abuse, a very violent game of punch-buggy and bruiser cruiser, and singing (more like shouting, in Wally's opinion) until they arrived in Keystone City.

They all worked until 10 p.m., which was when everything was finally finished. As a reward for all of their hard work, Grandma Joan had made them a massive dinner, which the three boys scarfed down rather quickly. It was around 11 p.m. when it was time to head back to Central.

Wally had hoped that Roy and Dick would come with him on the ride back, but the two just seemed to 'disappear' to the nearest zeta-beam, not wanting to ride in the car for another five-hour drive.

Both of Wally's unofficial grandparents tried their hardest to talk him into staying the night and driving back to Central City in the morning when he was fully rested, but he politely declined, wanting to get home so he could hang with his uncle on his day off.

So, now Wally was driving back to Central City alone, in the old truck Grandpa Jay had given him once he had gotten his driving permit. It wasn't in that bad of shape; both Dick and Roy had been helping him patch up the 'old piece of shit that isn't worth a damn and looks like crap ,' as the two dubbed it. But Wally had a car, and that's all that mattered.

Currently, he was four and half hours into the drive, and was only thirty minutes away from home. It wasn't even five minutes after the thirty minute mark that his eyes started to droop. He snapped them open and turned the radio up, trying to keep himself awake. The loud music nearly busted his eardrums, it was so loud, the female singer screeching something indecipherable as a rapper cursed violently, all while a strong techno beat wailed in the undertone.

But even that wasn't enough to keep his eyes from drooping. He rolled down his window, the frigid air slapping him irately in the face, which seemed to work better then the blaring music. But that didn't mean he was going to turn the music down.

Wally smiled at seeing the 'Welcome to Central City' sign; he was almost home. He couldn't wait to climb in bed; his whole body screamed with pain from all the wood they had to chop and lift.

He was only three highway exits way from where he needed to get off the highway. He sleepily glanced at the clock, starting slightly when he realized it was almost three in the morning. To make the last couple of minutes entertaining, he started skimming through the radio stations, smiling when he found a good song.

Too bad it was the end of the song.

Wally scrunched up his nose when another song that was seriously over-played came on the radio, frowning in distaste at the artist's voice, she sounded like she had a mosquito stuck up her nose. He began skimming through the radio stations again, trying to find something that he could listen to. After several stations, he found a song by Breaking Benjamin.

He smirked, fingers drumming on the steering wheel in time with the vivacious beat of the drum, turned his attention back to the road, he saw a pair of headlights racing towards him at an unbelievable speed.


Iris glanced up from her book at hearing a loud, obnoxious snore escape from Barry, who was fast asleep next to her, jaw slackened. She raised her eyebrow as he rolled over and mumbled something about wanting a sandwich.

Rolling her eyes, she turned her attention to the clock. It was 3:30 in the morning. She frowned; Wally should have been home thirty minutes ago, but there was no, "Lucy, I'm home!" or happy greeting so far.

She bit her lip; she wanted to call him, to make sure that everything was alright, and to ask where he was. But, she had told him never to talk on the phone while driving unless it was an emergency.

Wally had called her before he left Jay's, and all she got out of him was that he didn't know if Roy and Dick were coming. It was hard to understand him because the troublesome trio were laughing so hard, and her red-headed nephew's words were punctuated with many giggles and snorts.

She would give him ten more minutes, and once that time was up, she was going to wake Barry up to see if he could find their nephew. It always worried her when Wally came home late, or didn't come home at all.

Hesitantly, she returned to her book, but her mind was elsewhere. Her attention was jerked away from the book at hearing that oh-so-annoying ringtone Wally had set for Barry's cell phone penetrate the silence of the room.

Iris let out a small sigh; that could be Wally calling. He could be calling to tell that that he was almost home, or that he ran out of gas, or the truck died, even after all the patching up the boys had done to the thing.

Lazily, Barry rolled over on his stomach, his hand reaching over to the bedside table, but instead of looking for his phone, he was repeatedly hitting the alarm clock.

"Barry!"

Barry gave a startled yelp, and jumped about a foot in the air, still tangled in the sheets, and fell out of bed, hitting the ground with a loud exclamation.

Iris cocked an eyebrow at her husband who rubbed the sleep from his eyes in shock and slowly climbed back into bed before grabbing his phone. The blond speedster squinted his eyes in confusion, not recognizing the number, and flipped his phone open. "This is Barry."

Iris closed her book, waiting to hear Barry make a smart-ass comment about Wally's truck, or about how Wally ran out of gas. But she jumped, startled, when Barry sat up, a look of horror spreading over his face.

"Where?" Barry was instantly out of bed, getting dressed, the phone held against his ear by his shoulder, seemingly defying the laws of gravity. The person on the other end talking rapidly, and Barry was just as quickly firing back questions and jumbled expressions of panic before he yelped, "I'm on my way!" and snapped his phone shut.

"What happened?" Iris asked, concerned, as she got out of bed. "Was that Wally?"

"No," Barry said, looking at his wife, his blue eyes filled with despair. "That was Central City Police; Wally was hit head on by a drunk driver."

As soon as those words left Barry's lips, a horrified gasp escaped Iris' lips before she could stop it. Tears pricked at her eyes. "Where is he? Is he alright?"

"On the highway," Barry answered, placing his hand gently on his panicking wife's shoulder. "They didn't give me details, and I don't know if Roy and Dick were in the car. I need you to call Bruce and Ollie and make sure they are home."

Iris nodded, still trying to prevent the tears from slipping down her cheeks "I'll be right behind you."

Barry nodded, and just like that, he was gone.


Barry could see the flashing lights of the emergency response vehicles a mile away. He skidded to a stop a short distance away and jogged the rest of the way.

The scene was taped off, and a cop was directing the small flow of morning traffic around the blocked scene. Beyond the tape, Barry caught a glimpse of a familiar truck. Wally's truck.

Barry couldn't stand there anymore; Wally needed him. He grabbed the tape, pushing away the thought about how it felt like he was a work, at another crime scene, with another victim, another criminal, another case...but this was personal. But before he could cross the tape, however, an officer was on him almost as fast as he could blink.

"You can't cross the tape!" the officer barked.

"That's my son!" Barry growled, not even realizing what he had said, but the officer blinked and stepped aside, letting the man pass.

Barry quickly made his way towards the twisted metal and broken glass. He couldn't see Wally; there were too many people gathered around the two vehicles.

Over all commotion of the scene, a loud voice asked, words slurring together. "Why the hell are you arresting me? I didn't do anything!"

That man didn't even need a sobriety test to prove that he was drunk, Barry swore he could smell the alcohol on the man's breath. But the next words out of his mouth made Barry want to go over there and beat the living hell out of the drunkard, the man who made the choice to drink, who made the choice to drive drunk, and the man who was driving on the wrong side of the highway!

"That little bastard drove in front of me!"

But Barry pushed his anger aside and arrived at the twisted metal that was once his nephew's truck. As he approached, he over heard a whispered conversation between a fireman, a cop and an EMT.

"Probably 90 mph head on collision…"

"Kid's lucky to even be alive."

"Hope he stays that way."

An EMT, who had his head and arm through the driver side window, looked over his shoulder and gave Barry a grave smile, stepping aside to let the speedster talk to his nephew. Barry reached his head and arm through the crooked and broken driver side window of Wally's truck. Barry's breath hitched when he saw his nephew.

Blood trickled in red rivulets down Wally's face and neck, pooling at his collarbone, where a neck brace was fastened. Broken glass shards peppered his body, sometimes tinged pink, sometimes stuck in his flesh. His hair was caked with blood, and his white T-shirt was now a ghastly red color.

"Hey," Barry asked softly, brushing his nephew's bloody bangs off his face. "You still with me, Hot Rod?" The older speedster watched as Wally's hazy green eyes opened slowly. "How you doing buddy?"

It was a dumb question to ask; of course he was doing terrible. He had just had a head-on collision with a drunk driver. But Barry wanted to keep Wally talking, wanted to let him know that he wasn't alone with these strangers.

"Mmm'kay," Wally said slowly, words slurring dangerously. The red-head's temples were throbbing, there was a sharp pain in his lower back, and his legs were screaming in agony, almost so painful that he couldn't feel it.

Wally stared at his uncle, marveling thickly at how his uncle seemed to be shrouded in haze. Barry's lips were moving, slower than molasses, but the red-haired boy wasn't registering what he was saying, he was too tired. Slowly, his green eyes started to droop.

"Hey!" a voice called, and an EMT tapped the red-head's shoulders. "Stay awake, Wally, do you hear me?" The EMT had gotten in the passenger seat and was preparing an IV. "Keep talking to him! We need to keep him awake, it's important!"

"Wally," Barry said softly, brushing the matted bangs off Wally's forehead again. "Talk to me, kid." Barry paused, trying to think of something that could keep Wally awake, when an idea struck him.

"Hey, Wally," the hazy green eyes flickered over to him, "do you remember what we were studying for the huge biology test you had a few days ago?" Wally gave a very weak nod. "Alright, tell me the phases of Mitosis."

Wally's green eyes slowly slid closed, "Starts….Interphase…" Wally slurred, and groggily began to explain what structures were disappearing and the structures that were present. As Wally explained, Barry nodded his head, every now and then saying, "What else?"

After a few minutes, someone tapped the older speedster's shoulder, and Barry turned around and saw a firefighter. He frowned and turned his attention back to Wally. "Wally, keep telling…" Barry paused and looked at the EMT in the passenger seat with the IV.

"Reece," the EMT said.

Barry nodded. "Keep telling Reece about Mitosis."

Wally though didn't seem to react to what Barry said, but he just continued describing the process. "Prophase…nuclear envelope…"

Barry straightened and turned towards the firefighter, hoping they were going to tell him that they could cut his nephew out of the hunk of twisted metal that used to be Wally's truck.

"Are you the boy's father?"

Barry didn't even hesitate with his answer. "Yes."

The fireman nodded. "Well, we are going to cut him out as soon as we can, but right now, we are waiting for the signal from the EMTs. They told me everything." The fireman paused and glanced towards the wrecked car where the red-head was trapped. "The dashboard crumpled onto his leg; he's pinned down in the car. There is a chunk of metal in his arm, and they are afraid that it could be near an artery, meaning he would bleed to death if it was removed. Until we get an okay from the EMT, we can't cut him out."

Barry felt his heart sink; just how long would that be? So far, Wally hadn't gone into any sort of panic attack, but it was only a matter of time before it could happen. God, Barry hoped that didn't happen, it would just make his injuries worse.

"The other driver?" Barry's voice turned venomous at the mention of the man who had almost killed Wally.

The fireman glared at the cop car that now housed the drunkard. Somehow the man managed to walk away with nothing more then a small gash on his arm, while the green-eyed teenager was possibly fighting for his life in the truck. "He was way over the limit."

Barry curled his hands into tight fists, nails digging into his flesh painfully. Barry wanted five minutes with that-that 'thing' didn't deserve to be called a man. If had five minutes, just five minutes, he would make that 'thing' beg to be interrogated by Batman instead. He hoped the bastard relived this everyday for the rest of his life; that would make him think about the next time he picked up a bottle, if he even got out of jail.

"Barry!" A voice jerked the speedster from his murderous thoughts.

Craning his neck towards the voice, he caught a glimmer of reddish, auburn hair, and he realized Iris was the one who had called out to him. Barry could see teardrops streaking her cheeks as he watched her talk to an officer holding her back from the scene, trying to get him to let her through. She finally confirmed her relationship with Wally, and she ran past the officer.

"Oh God, Wally!" Iris cried out, running past Barry, but stopping when she got to the destroyed truck. She looked through the window, her grief-stricken eyes wide. "Wally, sweetheart, are you okay?" Iris gently brushed the matted bangs off his forehead.

"Metaphase…centromeres line up at metaphase plate…"

Iris blinked. "Wally?" Iris had no idea what he was saying, or what he was talking about. "Wally, sweetheart, can you hear me?"

"He's telling me about Mitosis." Iris looked up towards the EMT, who smiled gently. "We're trying to keep him awake, so his dad gave him something to talk about."

Iris blinked; she still didn't understand. She wanted Wally to know that she was here.

"Hey, Hot Rod," Barry said, giving the younger speedster a small tap on his nose. Wally stumbled over explaining the anaphase process of Mitosis and his green eyes flickered towards them.

"Oh, Wally," Iris choked out, tears dripping down her face.

"Hi…Aunt Iris…" It broke both their hearts when they heard the slurred speech coming from Wally. "M'sorry didn't call, didn't make home on time." He looked at Iris hazily, while she covered her mouth with her hand as she spotted the blood on his face. "I shoulda saw 'em comin'."

A choked sob escaped Iris' lips; it was unbelievable that Wally would think that. "Wally," Iris whispered softly, "it's…It's not your fault, sweetheart." Iris stepped away, not being able to take seeing Wally in the condition he was in.

Barry frowned, torn between going to comfort his wife and being there to help Wally. But by the look Iris was giving him, he was going to stay with Wally.

Barry stuck his head back through the window. "You still with me, Hot Rod?"

"Mmmmm...wanna go home."

"I know, buddy," Barry said softly. "But your leg is pinned, and you have some metal stuck in your arm. Until we're sure it's safe, you're going to have to stay where you are."

"I want out," Wally slurred desperately. "Please, get me out." Wally's breathing was starting to pick up, very close to hyperventilation. Barry cursed to himself; he knew that Wally's claustrophobia was kicking in.

"Wally," Barry said sternly, albeit rather gently. "Wally, listen to me. Slow breaths, Hot Rod, slow breaths. We're going to get you out, I swear to God, Wally, we will, I promise."

"Please…get me out. Please, Uncle Barry. Please."

"I will, Hot Rod, I will," Barry said. "Just remember, sitting still is good."

Wally whimpered and closed his eyes. "It hurts..."

"Wally," Reece asked, now holding gauze on another cut on the speedster's skull, "What is hurting the most?"

"Leg…"

Reece seemed to narrow his eyes. The kid was scared, but he had a feeling that Wally wasn't telling the whole truth. "Be honest with me, kid, we can't move you until you tell me everything that hurts."

"Head, mm'arm, and…and my back."

Barry's heart skipped a beat. His back? That was bad, that was seriously bad. The firefighter had told him about the big injures, but they never mentioned his back. Did Wally not tell them that his back hurt?"

"Where?" Reece asked, deadly serious.

Wally squeezed his eyes shut. "Lower back…center."

"Wally, never lie about this!" Barry scolded softly. "It could kill you or leave you paralyzed." Barry wasn't mad a Wally, not in the slightest, he was just concerned.

"M'sorry."

Reece smiled softly. "Just be honest from now on, alright, buddy?" Wally nodded, "This IV should help with the pain."

Barry cursed under his breath. That IV wasn't going to do anything. He was pretty sure that Wally hadn't eaten in a while, so the IV was just helping Wally's metabolism, not numbing the pain.

"You're going to be alright, sweetheart," Iris choked out, peeking over Barry's shoulder.

"Excuse me!" A firefighter caught their attention. Barry pulled himself out of the window, bumping his head on the frame slightly, and turned towards the firefighter. The man was young, but it wasn't hard to see the amount of compassion and concern in the man's eyes. "Are you this boy's parents?"

Before Iris could answer, Barry answered for them both. "Yes." Iris blinked before looking up at her husband. She managed to smile through her tears, but it quickly gave way to a serious expression as Iris trained her gaze on the firefighter.

"Alright, we have come to the decision to pull him out through the passenger door. We need to get a backboard on him and loosen up some of the metal under the steering column." The firefighter paused and looked over at Wally, who seemed to be struggling to keep his green eyes open. "We will have a team ready if we hit the artery in his arm."

Barry paled, glancing at Wally. This was a dangerous move, if it didn't go perfectly...he shook his head. Wally was going to be fine. "Alright."

Barry and Iris were forced to step back from the truck, but it took quite a bit of coaxing to get Barry away. Every ounce of Barry's being was screaming at him to run back to the truck. Iris squeezed his hand as they watched the fireman cover Wally with a tarp to protect him from debris that could fly in his face.

The hissing sound of the blade hitting the metal screeched through the morning air and pierced their ears painfully. The blade slowly began to grind through the twisted, mutilated metal.

An agonizing scream rose over the sound of the saw.

Iris closed her eyes and pressed her face into Barry's chest as he wrapped his arms around her securely and tried to block out the scream with soft whispers and assurances.

That scream was coming from Wally.

It was a scream from someone they loved so much, someone they couldn't live without, someone who was in excruciating pain. The haunting scream could have sent chills down the spine of the Dark Knight. Even the people –EMTs and other emergency personnel- were looking away or trying to block out the shriek.

"Barry, make it stop. Please," Iris sobbed.

Barry hesitantly let her go and rushed over towards the truck. "He needs a break!" Barry yelled over the saw, getting the attention of the firefighters, who shut the saw off almost immediately.

"Wally!" Barry called, sticking his head back in the window, and lifting the tarp from Wally's body gently.

Tears were dripping down the speedster's face, leaving clear streaks on his bloody cheeks. His breathing was erratic and unsteady. The shock of the whole situation hit the red-haired boy with astonishing force, and his face flushed as his eyes grew wide and more tears trickled out. "It hurts so bad..."

"Wally, listen to me."

"I can't do it, it hurts! Make it stop! Please, Barry, please! Just make it stop. Just...just please. Please make it stop."

"Wally!"

"I can't!"

"Hot Rod!"

Wally's green eyes instantly darted to his uncle. "Relax, it's going to hurt, alright?" Wally was shaking so violently he was almost vibrating. "Shhh, Wally, shh...slow breaths, slow breaths."

The two exchanged a quiet conversation in speed-speak, and whatever Barry had said seemed to help, because the young red-head managed to give a weak smile.

"Ready?" the fireman asked.

Barry nodded, taking his place next to his wife as the saw roared back to life.

The scream also roared back to life. The blood curdling scream, the one that would haunt Barry forever.

"God…" Iris sobbed into Barry's chest. "Wally."

"Hang in there, Hot Rod," Barry whispered to himself.


The sun was slowly starting to rise into the sky when the paramedics were getting ready to load Wally into the ambulance. Barry was standing next to the vehicle, talking to Bruce on his cellphone in a hushed, serious tone.

"I don't know yet, he may have a crushed leg. Something happened to his arm, and he has a...broken back." Barry paused at seeing Iris comforting Wally as they wheeled him towards the ambulance. "Thanks, Bruce."

The speedster snapped his phone shut and turned to his wife. "I'm going to ride with him. I'll meet you at the hospital." Iris simply nodded.

Barry quickly got into the ambulance with Wally and gave the young speedster's hand a gentle squeeze. Wally's unfocused gaze drifted to meet Barry's eyes. "You're gonna be alright, Kid."

Wally closed his eyes and grasped Barry's hand in a bone-crushing grip. "I-I can't feel them…"

Barry blinked. "What?"

"I-I…I-I can't feel my legs."

Barry's eyes widened in horror. Wally couldn't feel his legs? Did he break his back that badly? Did something happen when they pulled him out of the truck? Was he paralyzed from the waist down? Or were they just numb?

"I-I-I can't feel them." Wally was starting to panic, to the point of near hyperventilation. "Uncle Barry, I can't feel them!" Wally squeezed Barry's hand tighter, tears pouring out of his eyes. "W-what...what if I c-can't run again?"

"Shh, Wally," Barry crooned softly, stroking Wally's hair. "It's going to be okay."

Wally didn't seemed to hear Barry and continued to speak in a flurry of panic."I-If I can't run…I can't…" Wally took in desperate gasp of air. "I-I'll be off the t-team."

Barry frowned. He knew the team meant the world to Wally; they were his family.

"Dick and Roy…t-they won't want to hang out with me!"

"Wally."

"Arty, God...Arty won't let me l-live it down."

"Walls."

"Conner, Kaldur, and Megan…t-they won't know what to do…"

"Hot Rod!" Barry snapped, instantly snapping the redhead out of his panic attack, "Relax, you're going to be fine! Bruce contacted Dr. Sawyer, she's going to meet us at the hospital and she'll fix you right up, okay."

"I can't feel them, I can't feel them." Wally repeated quietly over and over, "I can't…"


Tick…Tock…

Tick…Tock…

Barry glared at clock, daring the hands to go slower. Wally had been taken away from him not five minutes ago, and he already felt like an eternity had passed. He hadn't even heard Iris come in, asking question after question.

His eyes were glued on the clock.

Tick…Tock…

Tick…Tock…

The hands were taunting him, laughing at him.

It had almost come to the point where they looked like they had completely stopped

moving. Why did time have to torture him so?

Running his hands through his hair, Barry let out a frustrated sigh. He cursed at himself; he should have come home earlier. He should have told Iris to tell Wally to stay at Jay and Joan's. He should have gone with him!

Maybe then this wouldn't have happened.

Tick…Tock…

Tick…Tock…

The speedster lifted his head when he felt a hand holding his. Barry gently took Iris into his arms and gave her a gentle squeeze.

"He'll be okay," Iris said softly.

Barry hoped she was right.


Wally pried his eyes open when he heard the obnoxious beeps and whirs of the machines clustered around him. His green eyes darted around as he tried to figure out where he was.

"Hey, kid," a familiar voice said, and a hazy figure appeared in his vision. He knew this doctor; she was the doctor for the Justice League. Was he at Mount Justice or the Watchtower?

"Where am I?" he rasped out.

"You're at Central City Hospital. You were in a bad car crash," Dr. Sawyer explained. "Do you need anything?"

Wally squeezed his eyes shut. He could remember good music, two headlights, blue and red flashing lights, and Uncle Barry. He slowly pried his eyes open and looked at the doctor the best he could; his vision was unfocused and hazy.

"I want…Uncle Barry."

The speedster swore he saw the doctor roll her eyes playfully as she smiled at him. "Alright, don't worry he'll probably be in here in a few seconds." Wally watched the doctor's retreating back as she walked away. He slowly closed his eyes, cursing to himself.

"Should have stayed at Grandpa Jay's," he muttered.

He heard two voices outside his door. Wally couldn't understand completely what they were saying, but he did hear a very loud, very relieved, "Thank God."

A quick gust of wind caused the speedster to snap his eyes open and look up at a pair of worried blue eyes. "Hey, Hot Rod, how you feeling?"

"Sore." He paused. "Where's Aunt Iris?"

Barry let out a weak chuckle. "I don't know exactly," Barry said, taking Wally's hand and giving it a gentle squeeze of reassurance, which Wally returned. "She's outside. Your friends showed up, and she's trying to calm them down."

Wally nodded, and his eyes met his uncle's. "How bad…?"

Barry smiled softly. "You have a cast from your ankle to your hip, and your head is wrapped up; you got little hairs sticking out," Barry said, letting out a small chuckle. "The gash on your arm is stitched and wrapped up, and you got a back brace."

Wally squeezed his eyes shut. He was scared to ask the question that had been on the tip of his tongue since he woke up. His whole body was numb with all the painkillers that Dr. Sawyer had pumped into his system. Wally squeezed his uncle's hand in another bone-crushing grip, before looking up at him with petrified green eyes. "My legs?"

"You're not paralyzed, Kid."

Wally's head sank deeply into the pillow, relief washing over him in waves. "Thank God."

"But you'll be out of commission for two months."

Wally groaned but didn't say anything. He was just thankful that he wasn't paralyzed, and that he was alive. After a few minutes of silence, Wally opened his mouth to speak again; there was one thing he wanted to ask...

"Uncle Barry?"

"Yeah, Kid?"

Wally hesitated for a moment and licked his chapped lips before he decided he should speak again. "While, I was still stuck in my truck," Wally started, not able to meet his uncle's eyes, "I-I heard you talking to a firefighter."

Barry blinked in confusion. He recalled talking to at least two firefighters while on the crash site, but he didn't seem to understand why Wally was bringing it up. "Yeah?" Barry said, slightly confused. "Wally, what's wrong?"

Wally swallowed thickly. "H-he asked if you were my m-mom and d-dad…and you said yes."

Barry's eyes widened. He remembered that, but he didn't think that Wally had heard him. He didn't even hesitate to answer the firefighter. But Barry really did think of Wally as his son. They were so close to each other; in fact, some heroes considered them attached at the hip at times.

But now, it was all out in the open, and Barry hoped that it wouldn't damage the relationship they had built up over the years.

"D-Do, you really feel that way?" Wally asked, his eyes shining with confusion.

"Of course!" Barry said immediately, giving Wally's hand a gentle squeeze. "You are my son, Wally, even if it's not by blood!"

A smile appeared on the green-eyed boy's face. "I-I always thought of you as my dad rather than my uncle."

Barry felt his chest tighten painfully; not with sadness, but with absolute joy. He always was afraid of what Wally would say to him if he told him he thought of him as his son. He didn't know if Wally would accept him, or if it would cause a rift between the two. But now he had his answer.

"Dad…" Wally said, hearing the sound of the familiar voices of his teammates and other league members, along with Iris, who was trying to calm them all down.

Dad. Barry could get used to the sound of that. "Yeah, Kid?"

"I hate cars."

Barry let out a small laugh as the door behind them opened. "I hate them too, son. I hate them too."


Author's Note: Thank you Lilmiss the best beta in the entire world for editing :). Now i know getting hit head on at 90mph does a lot more damage, i found that out getting updates on my sisters sorority sisters, but I tried. I wrote this for an angst and bit for a message.

For those who already drive, and those who are going to drive soon, i know you've heard it all before, but please, Don't text while driving, don't drink and drive call someone to pick you up, (i am a designated drive for my friends, cause i don't drink period and don't plan too. i don't care what time they wake me up, i just want them home safely.) Please wear your seatbelt, pay attention to the road around you. Please all of you be careful on the roads!

Until next time.

Please Review!