Young Justice doesn't belong to me, no profit made.

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With his final retort the boy descended into a gloomy silence, which Wally was content with for the time being.

The sound of the radio humming monotonously and the occasional snort from the bulldog was all that penetrated the stillness that encompassed them. Wally wished he could tune it out. The place was unnerving, unwelcoming and deep down although he wouldn't ever admit it, it scared him. He had previously thought he had escaped the frying pan but perhaps now this was the fire.

The restlessness in his chest felt cancerous and in an effort to keep focus. Wally got up and began to examine the enclosing walls in a vain attempt to try to understand what was keeping him here. Or perhaps a chance to find a weakness or a means of escape. Wally pressed his hand to the surface, cold thick stone greeted him but there was something else. A pulse? It gently vibrated through his palm. A familiar voice broke his trance.

'I know what you're thinking, it won't work.'

The boy stretched out his hands and Wally saw that they were plastered with black and purple bruises.

'Read my lips. No. Way. Out!'

'I've got the element of surprise.'

Moving backwards Wally steadied himself and then in a sudden burst of speed he threw himself at the wall.

A sharp laugh brought him back to consciousness. Wally awoke to find himself sprawled across the floor, his head and shoulder throbbed with a dull ache. He pulled himself up, and mentally shook away the stars that circled his forehead. Turning around he saw his associate doubled over trying to hold in a fit of laughter.

'I did warn you.'

'This place doesn't make sense.'

'Tell me about it.'

'Why do you think we're here?'

His associate seemed aggravated at the query, and Wally wondered if it would have been better to have stayed silent.

'It's not fair, whatever this is, whatever we've done, it isn't right.'

The boy spoke slowly his voice was sharp like steel, the question was obviously a painful matter to him. Wally thought he had probably been asking the same thing himself since he'd been trapped here.

'The dog never wakes up, the TV never turns on, and that radio never shuts up! It's like a prop, it never changes no matter what. You'd better get used to it. We're trapped here and that's not going to change any time soon.'

The pair fell into a frosty silence. The boy lounged back into the couch staring into space. Wally sat on the floor legs crossed gazing at the ceiling.

He reminisced a time when as a small child he had gone to the cinema with his parents. It had been a low budget sci fi, but Wally was in complete awe. The film had finished with the hero saving the earth by sacrificing himself to stop the alien invasion. Wally had hated that ending, it felt wrong, a pioneer taken before his time. He had cried on the way home. He remembered his father placing his hand on his shoulder then reiterating a quote he'd heard before.

"Endings are not always bad. Most times they're just beginnings in disguise.''

Wally mused if this counted as a new commencement.

'How did you get here?'

The voice snapped Wally back into reality.

'It can't be any different from you.'

The boy chuckled then muttered.

'Perhaps that's why we're here. We screwed up. We've let everyone down.'

Wally frowned.

'I died as a hero.'

'I died as a failure.'


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