A/N: Another Spitfire drabble...because I heard this song and became highly excited about the new episode to aire in March. Song: "The Part Where You Let Go" by Hem.

Disclaimer: This is the part where I say something clever about not owning YJ...

The Part Where You Let Go

And I don't know,

Is this the part where you let go?

And tumbling out of a window.

Is this the part where you find out

I'm there for you?

When the sun leaves the field

Are you holding on?

He wasn't sure where she came from that day, but if he was going to die in the desert thousands of miles away from home, he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

And as far as mirages went, she felt pretty real and solid in his hands as he carried her through that scorching heat, desperate for some form of escape or shelter where he could regroup and formulate a plan.

The minor dehydration and pounding headache did nothing to help his brain focus, and he nearly missed the makeshift shaft, blurry in the distance to his tired eyes.

After securing the perimeter and making sure no one else was present, Kid Flash finally set the girl down before searching the structure for water, food—anything really that could be of use.

His eyes repeatedly trailed back to the blonde, now groaning as she fought the clutches of sleep. There was something familiar about the girl, though Kid Flash was certain he had never seen anyone quite like her in his life. Still, he had a gut feeling about this archer, something important that was gnawing at his throbbing brain, demanding to be remembered.

He was still trying to figure it out as they ran from those tanks, her lithe body clutched tightly to his chest.

"Don't let go," she warned, though he saw a twitch at the edge of her lips as she leaned her head back slightly, relishing in the way the wind whipped through her long pony tail.

"Don't worry, I've got you," he winked. He was very certain he wouldn't be letting her go anytime soon.

Well, at least not until Miss Martain restored their memories. They released each other's hands as though they had been zapped apart.

Kid Flash immediately quashed the errant thought protesting their detachment. And he absolutely did NOT wonder if Artemis also felt anything remotely resembling remorse at their reestablished animosity.

Are you holding on to the last sweet light,

When the flame leaves your eyes?

I still see you there on your darkest night.

If he had known that he would lose her in an alien invasion, Wally never would have let go of her in Bialya.

Even now, as he clung to the desperate chance that she might still be alive somewhere in that giant mothership, he couldn't help but feel that the plan was a longshot, that maybe he should finally let it go, let her go.

It was madness to drag the rest of his team on his hopeless tirade in proving, above all else, that she was just waiting out of reach, that she was probably standing around, hand on her hip, mouth twisted into that characteristic defiant grin she so often tossed his way, about to release a torrent of acerbic remarks to her captors.

Artemis had to be alive; she couldn't just up and leave him. Who else would call him out on his lame attempts at suaveness, or arm wrestle him for TV remote privileges, or keep him on his toes by shooting arrows around corners when he happened to snatch something of hers?

Who else would start an argument with him just for the sake of fighting and continue to dispute their point despite the fact that neither person could remember the original disagreement? Who else could possibly send his heart careening over the edge or increase his respiratory demands or cause his eyes to flicker with mirth merely with an upturn of their mouth?

Absolutely no one.

And even after awakening to the reality that she had never left him, Wally continued to feel like a part of him had still let her go.

As your hand's breaking free I am holding on.

I am holding on, as you've held on to me.

When all the adults of the world vanished again, just like the simulation, the memory of Artemis's fake death became fresh and raw in the speedster's mind. All cortices in his brain dealing with rational thought shut down.

At least that was the conclusion his teammates came to when he suddenly ran out of the mountain, whisking Artemis away with him.

Wally didn't know where he was going, what Artemis's was screaming over the rush of wind surrounding them, her voice lost in the sonic booming of his reckless trek. Sand, rocks, water, pavement, and grass came and passed without interruption. Running helped organize his thoughts, and Artemis, real and angry and alive in his arms, helped calm his fears.

He was running faster and faster, the speed of sound having long been abandoned. He might not have noticed his pace except Artemis was no longer trying to get his attention, instead burying her face in the space between his neck and shoulder. And she was shuddering, though not from the cold. The incessant blur surrounding the duo slowly morphed back into distinguishable shapes: trees, mountains, rocks, grass, and cacti. They were getting closer to the west coast.

Eventually, Wally stopped all together, waiting for the tremors to stop wracking the archer's body. Slowly, her fingers unclenched from the fabric of his suit, and her head rolled back, meeting his eyes with her own.

He expected them to be full of rage, simmering with fury as she drew breath and prepared to inform him the extent of her displeasure at his sudden desire to forsake their teammates and take a cross-country vacation.

Instead, he found them full of pain and trepidation. It was so much worse than anger, and he hated himself for having been so selfish and impulsive in hijacking her on this pointless expedition.

"Wally?" Her voice was barely above a whisper. "What's going on? Why are you doing this?

His gaze dropped down to the uneven gravel below his yellow boots. What was he supposed to say? Sorry Artemis, but I can't let you go fight with us because I might lose you for real this time?

"Wally?" Her voice was concerned this time. "I'm still here you know." There was a little bit of sass in that last comment, causing him to tilt his head back up and meet her eyes. "You can put me down now. I have two working legs."

She saw his gaze harden and his grip on her tighten. Artemis thought he had been holding her pretty tightly before, but now they might as well have been coalescing into one mass.

"I'm not letting you go."

The somberness of his tone made her refrain from chewing him out. This behavior transcended their petty disagreements and his taunts that she was only holding the team back. His present actions were not due to the fact that he didn't think she was good enough to fight with the rest of the team against the magic wielders.

Wally closely observed her expressions, waiting, desperately anticipating that moment when understanding would flit across her face and she would tell him what an idiot he was and to take her back to the Cave immediately.

And he did see the comprehension finally dawn on her features, but she did not reprimand him like he expected. Instead, she wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned back into his shoulder.

"Okay."

There was so much power in that one word. Wally found rational thought slowly return.

"Okay?" He choked out, his questioning green eyes probing her dark gray ones.

She merely smiled in return. It wasn't her customary smirk that she exhibited whenever he issued her a challenge; it was a soft look that let Wally know she was on the same page as him, let him know that she wasn't going anywhere.

"Okay," he reaffirmed, his voice stronger, more sure of itself. "Okay."

Wally turned around and took off back in the direction of Mount Justice, never for a moment letting the archer go.

Is this the part where you let go,

And sinking under a shadow?

Is this the part where you find out

I'm there for you?

You find out I'm there for you .