"There you are standing right in front of me
There you are standing right in front of me
All this fear falls away to leave me naked
Hold me close, cause I need you to guide me to safety."
- Signal Fire, Snow Patrol
Summary: Set in the near future Wally faces a loss of his very own – a death in the family.
The bedroom was cold, empty and unwelcoming. Wally bit his lip, his thoughts swimming, his emotions oscillating from utter desolation to raging anger. The desire to throw up surged through him. Clenching his fist he forced it down. From now on he was alone – he had to deal with it. Wally rarely stayed the night at Mount Justice; much preferring his own, comfier bed in Central City. But tonight, tonight he couldn't bring himself to go back to the metropolis he ordinarily called home. Hitting his head against the door the speedster slowly slid to the floor before pulling his knees into his chest. Hot tears were beginning to well and with every second he was losing the will to hold them back. He blinked and his cheeks were damp, his body shaking as unbridled sobs rattled his chest. Screwing his eyes shut he tried to regulate his breathing, slow down, calm down and stop. But he couldn't. Not when... a fresh wave of anguish hit him. Like his very heart were being ripped from his chest and smashed against the ground. Smashed into small shards of nothingness. So small that he could never hope to pick them up. Beyond repair. It was like he physically hurt, pain shooting through him as he forced himself to breathe. Each laboured breath a reminder that he was the fastest man alive and... Wally gasped, lurching forward, his hands digging into the thin carpet. He couldn't think about it – it was too new, too fresh. Too painful.
Quietly the door to the bedroom opened. A familiar scent rushing into the room but it was soon lost to the overwhelming smell of french-fries and burgers. She didn't know how long he'd been lying there. They had all thought it was for the best if they left him alone. Gave him space, room to breathe. Or was it grieve? Artemis shook her head, placing the plate on the empty bedside table she quickly dropped to the floor, her feet crossing underneath her. Glancing over at the red head she choked back her own sob, Wally was curled up into a ball as his tear stained face stared blankly at her. The archer knew the teen would be starving but even the allure of junk food could not bring him out of his dazed state. She wasn't good at this; she never really stuck around to see what happened after the carnage and destruction. Slowly but surely she placed her hand on the floor, inch by inch it snuck closer to Wally; glancing towards the undressed window Artemis fought back her own tears. Wally bounced off the walls and chattered inanely, full of life and vigour. This was not the Wally West that she spent hours of the day screaming at. But then isn't death supposed to change people? A slight bump to her fingers caused her to jolt back to the small room; Wally's hand had reached for hers. Quickly clasping it she shuffled forward until she could place their interwoven digits in her lap.
"He's gone..." Wally rasped out, his usually vibrant green eyes hollow.
Artemis nodded slowly, deliberating her words to come. "I know it's not ok. I know there's nothing I can really say that will change things. But I do need you to know that I am sorry. That if you need to shout at someone, hit them, cry on them or just sit with them until you need to do all of that... I'm here."
The grip on Artemis' hand tightened, Wally's eyes flickered with life. Even in the depths of his grief he knew that he wasn't really alone. She had picked up the first piece and it was hers.
A/N: Ahh... ok so its kind of angsty but I hope I've done it in a fresh way? I was alluding to Barry Allen's death with the Fastest Man Alive stuff. Anyway, I hope you liked it and please let me know!
