"Come to the lab after school. Your mother and I need to speak to you."

The message clicked off after that. No goodbyes, no spoken words of affection from father to son, just the click of a message ending. When prompted, he deleted the brief message from his voicemail box.

Victor Stone made his way back into the cafeteria, sitting between his best friends, Ron Evers and Sarah Simms.

"Did dear ole dad call?" Ron said, biting into his sandwich.

"You betcha."

"What'd he want?" This time, Ron's voice was muffled through the bite of sandwich.

Sarah rolled her eyes. "Jesus, Ron. Chew, swallow, and then talk." She turned to her friend. "What happened, Vic?"

"Nothin' much. He wants me to go to the Labs after school is all."

"But we 'av practice," protested Ron.

"Ya know my dad doesn't care," Vic said, chewing a bite of his burger. "Tell Coach I'm sick or somethin' alright?"

Ron rolled his eyes. "But it's football. You love football practice. Tell the ole man to fuck off."

"Ron, just stop," Sarah scolded. "You know how Vic's parents are."

Victor just shrugged, trying to act like Ron's words weren't true. It wasn't too big of a deal. Sure, football was his favorite sport, but he would have practice the next day too.

Sarah leaned in to him. "Have you told them about the Wayne Tech deal?"

Though he had long ago given up his smart-guy appearance for the jock experience, Victor Stone was a closet inventor. Thanks to his parents' involvement in S.T.A.R. Labs, the senior had been the test subject for various intelligence enhancement projects. These experiments worked, making Victor one of the smartest eighteen-year-olds in his age group across the world. This was unknown to his teachers, though, as he maintained the most perfectly average GPA in the school.

When he was alone, as he usually was in his house, Victor could allow his intelligence to shine. He was a computer programmer and an amateur inventor. He had submitted various projects to S.T.A.R. Labs under the alias Vinny Wolfman, mostly computer work. But his last development, the blueprints for a holo-ring, had been rejected by the labs, and picked up by Wayne Tech for quite a large sum of money.

"Hell no. Sarah, c'mon, they'd love that too much."

"Exactly," she countered. "You could have something to talk about."

"There's no way I'm tellin' them. Just forget it," he said, focusing back on his burger.

"Fine," she said, but her eyes stayed locked on him. Vic was one of her best friends, and she felt bad that his home life was so awful. All she wanted to do was help, but she couldn't force him to reconcile with his parents. That was a step he would have to take on his own, hopefully, before it was too late.

Victor thanked the bus driver before he stepped onto the curb. He pulled the hood of his gray sweatshirt up over his long, dark hair to cover himself from the rain.

If he was being honest, he could've ran to the Labs faster than it took to ride the bus. Then he could've got in some exercise as well. He wasn't afraid of the potential thugs in the city, because someone his size was rarely afraid of attackers. But he was putting off speaking to his parents. He already knew what they wanted to talk about.

He gave a swift nod to the receptionist, who smiled and waved at him. Most of the S.T.A.R. Labs employees knew him on a first name basis. As a kid, Victor had spent more time in the building than he had with kids his own age.

When he got to his dad's office, there was a sticky note on the door. Blue. That meant it was for him.

Victor

Meet us in Lab 8.

Again, another brief message. Victor suppressed an eye roll. Even with genius status, he still couldn't shake the streak of teenage rebellion deep inside. Plus, that particular lab was all the way down in Sub-Basement 3. That was a long walk.

Victor sighed. He needed to suck it up and get it over with. So, with a hop, skip, and a jump down the stairs, he was in the sublevel basement three. He knocked three times on the door, before one of the assistants let him in.

"Victor," his father, Silas Stone, greeted tersely. "Glad you could come."

"Yeah," he replied, looking around the room. They were in the observation chamber with four other scientists in lab coats. Down in the actual lab was his mother, Elinore, and she was setting up some equipment in front of an upright circular machine in the center of the room. "What are you working on?"

Silas grinned, unable to control his excitement. He was like a kid in that way. "This is your mother's big project—an inter-dimensional portal."

Victor blanched. "Isn't that dangerous?"

"Oh, don't you worry. We've designed a safety mechanism—see it there?" he pointed to a box on the top of the upright ring in the lab below. "It inhibits the flow of the—well, let's just say this portal will be one-way, thanks to that box."

Victor lifted a brow as Silas got back to typing on his computer. Normally his father would jump at the chance to explain any sort of science to his son, but today, it seemed the portal was more important than that.

He pressed his finger to the com. "Hey, mom, I'm here." His voice was projected into the lab, where his mother looked up to wave. She resumed her work right away.

With a sigh, he plopped himself in an unused chair. They were in science mode. What was the point of coming to the lab if they weren't going to talk to him about his flawlessly average grades? He had skipped football practice for this!

"Alright, Elinore, are you guys good down there?" Silas spoke into the mic.

Her response was broadcasted in the observation room. "Yes, dear. We're ready to go. Flip the switch in three…two…one—"

She was cut off by the shaking of the earth around them. Victor leapt to his feet, startling the scientists around him who were all checking equipment.

"What the hell was that?" Elinore breathed.

Her husband was already typing furiously into the computer. "An explosion, not an earthquake…the epicenter was in Happy Harbor. It is safe may continue."

"Alright, everyone recheck your radiation suits," another man ordered. With a quick check of the nametag, Victor realized he was Dr. Staff, one of the scientists he knew as a kid. He could barely recognize him.

"We're good down here. Start the experiment in three…two…one…now."

Silas and the team in the observatory began furiously typing and flipping switches. It was almost comical to Victor.

"Now, Victor, watch the portal," Silas urged.

The eighteen-year-old raised his eyebrow curiously, wondering what his father had in mind for him, but stood and faced the windows. The ring began to fill with a dark mist that billowed like flames. It was mesmerizing. When the portal completely filled the hoop, Silas spoke into the microphone again, "Portal established. Begin transport of cameras."

Victor watched as Elinore and her team began leading some heavy equipment towards the gateway. There seemed to be a drivable camera tripod, as well as environmental sensors that were hooked up to a transmitter.

"Now, as long as we keep the portal open, we'll be able to keep in contact with the cameras as well as the sensors," Silas explained. "Unfortunately, whatever we send in, we can't get back because of our one-way safety box, but that's just a bump in the road."

"Quite an expensive bump," Dr. Staff commented.

Silas looked irritated at his colleague's negativity. "Yes, it is."

His next words were cut off by another explosion, this one longer than the first. The ground shuddered monstrously. Victor grabbed onto the shelving unit next to him, which was bolted to the floor. Worried cries erupted through the lab and observatory.

Silas's fingers were once again pounding away on the computer's keyboard, when he leapt back in shock. "Ouch!" he roared.

Victor glanced over to him, and his eyes widened. Red sparks were dancing across the console. He had never seen anything like that before. Then a scarlet flash erupted in the lab, and all of the people in the observatory looked down. The group of scientists that had been near the portal were all lying on the floor, seemingly blown away from the gateway in an explosion.

"Shit."

And Victor, who had never heard his father swear before, followed his gaze to the portal. The charred remains of the one-way locking mechanism stared back at him.

"Fuck," he echoed, and then realization hit. "Mom!"

The teen's muscles snapped into motion. Ignoring his father's calls behind him, he rushed out of the observatory, letting the door slam shut behind him. He followed the stairs down and around to the titanium door that would lead him into Experimental Laboratory 8.

Only it was locked. The monitor on the wall bleeped on before him, revealing a radiation warning.

Victor grunted in response and grabbed a screwdriver from a cart of lab equipment. "I'll just let myself in." He unscrewed the keypad that locked the doors and grinned. Unbeknownst to his father, he had created a lock similar to this one a few years back that had been picked up and modified by S.T.A.R. It took him all of thirty seconds to detach the commuter wire and reattach that to the carotid cord. Then, he created a spark between the mislatch and temporary wires, and the door began to open.

Still holding the screwdriver in his hand, the athlete leapt to his feet and ran through the doorway. "Mom!" he called out, his tone frantic. The scientists were all rising to their feet, slowly and painfully.

"Victor," she moaned, and he rushed toward her, pulling her gently to her feet. "You shouldn't be in here. The radiation will—"

The intercom blasted voices from the observatory. "Look out!"

Everyone looked toward the portal to see a huge, hideous creature tumbling out of it. It was at least ten feet tall with six appendages, four of which were claws. Its hunchback added a foot in height, and hair coated its body haphazardly. Someone in the observatory must've pressed the alarms, because they began blaring. The creature cowered in pain from the noise, but then roared. It turned its anger toward the scientist closest to him, and buried his claw deep into the chest of the young blonde researcher.

In a split second, Victor knew he was the only hope for the brains-without-brawn scientists in the room. They had been relying on the locking mechanism to keep them safe, and that had failed. There were so many people.

He rushed the creature as it flung the woman off of its claw. After dodging a second talon, Vic leapt up and stabbed him straight in the shoulder with the screwdriver that he had managed to hold onto. With a roar of pain, the otherworldly being swatted at the eighteen year old, sending him flying into the wall.

Victor groaned as he hit the fortification. Something dislodged in his chest, and he felt a crack. He assumed it was a rib, possibly two. His ears rang, as if they had their own alarm.

"VICTOR!" His mother's scream echoed around the room. His eyes jumped up; she was running towards him, worried about his well-being.

And the creature turned toward the shriek. With one motion, she was impaled, straight through, from her lower vertebrae and out her navel. The radiation suit was easily penetrated.

Victor couldn't bring himself to speak, even breathe. He coughed, spluttered. Elinore's blood fell on the tiles. Drip, drop. Time paused, as if to give him time to think.

He grabbed the counter next to him and rose to his feet. In the drawer next to him, there was a gas line hose. He pulled it out, and searched for a Bunsen burner. In between motions, he could hear the terrified screams behind him. He assembled the device and lit the flame. The ring stand was next—he tied a cloth to the end. Then, Victor lit the cloth with the burner. Instantly, the scorching smell inhabited his nasal cavity.

For his sake, he prayed the creature was flammable.

Victor bounded over the counter and gave himself a running start. With a leap perfected in years of track, he launched himself onto the creature's back. A claw swatted at him, but Victor easily ducked. He raised his arm swiftly over the shoulder of the creature, and stabbed the ring stand into his chest.

A second talon swiped at him, causing him to fall onto his back with a crack. Through his own agony, Victor smiled when the beast bellowed. But then the thing was moving in his direction again.

Victor scrambled, his fingers grappling for any sort of handhold on the smooth tiles. But there was none. The claw clamped down on his left leg and he knew it was all over. He was pulled closer to the creature. Another claw clamped on his right arm. Cracks and pops filled the room as his bones were crushed.

And the being pulled him. Ripped him apart.

In that moment, pain was all he knew. He was dying—his mother was already dead. Victor's muscles ached, and he could feel reality slipping away as the blood rushed out onto the stark white lab floors. He didn't see the bright light, leading him away. He didn't see his life flash before his eyes. All that the eighteen year old could see as he floated away was the last breath his mother took before she died.

And his vision went black.

Artemis Crock was sharpening her arrows on the living room floor.

It wasn't uncommon for Paula to see her doing that, even before the incident with the Reach. Rather, the ferocity in which she completed her task was the strange part. Each stroke was precise and strong. But Paula knew the recurring motion was the only thing holding Artemis to this reality, this cruel, mindless reality. She could feel her slipping away.

In the six months after Wally's death, Artemis had moved back in with her mother. Paula could remember the surprise she felt, when her youngest was standing outside her door, bags in hand.

"I need to stay here," she had croaked. Tears were threatening to spill over onto the already red-stained cheeks, but Artemis was good at suppressing things, especially emotions. So they never fell in front of her mother.

She had also taken up hero work again. Full-time. But not with the Justice League. Paula couldn't figure out if it was because she blamed them, or if seeing the faces of the living heroes was just too painful for the young woman.

The only one ever allowed over for long periods of time was Nightwing.

Paula could guess why. He would arrive in through the window, and then they would spent hours locked in Artemis's bedroom, murmuring quietly. And when they came out, the man would be putting his mask back on, but Paula could still see the red stains on his cheeks.

Even though she had given it up, the older woman was still a fighter. It was harder to quit cold-turkey than she thought. So, hiding it from her daughter, Paula had kept in shape.

Just in case. Just in case Lawrence came back to steal Artemis away. Just in case one of her old enemies wanted revenge. Just in case one of her daughters needed her.

Even now, as she sat in her chair, knitting quietly, there were a few knives and a handgun hidden in her wheelchair, all within grabbing distance. As a disabled woman living alone, she had though they were necessary. Even the knitting needles themselves could be used as projectiles.

A rapping sound came from the door.

Paula placed her knitting in her lap, her arms moving to the wheels on her chair.

Artemis held out her hand. "No, I've got it," she insisted, before pulling herself to her feet. She allowed herself a quick stretch, and then made her way to the door.

From the living room, Paula could hear the click of the door unlocking, and then the squeal as it opened. They really needed to put some WD-40 on those hinges.

"Artemis."

It was a male's voice, strangely familiar. She just couldn't place it.

"Mom?"

There was panic in her daughter's voice. It was strange to hear. As quickly as she could, she wheeled herself around the coffee table, and over to the door, curious as to what was causing her daughter so much stress. She put a hand over one of her hidden knives.

And then she was frozen. It was him. From the spikey red hair, to the green eyes and freckles, he was all there. It was his lean body, and muscular frame. It was the man they had all been mourning. The one that had a men in leotards over to talk to her Artemis, to which Artemis would never speak, beyond a one- or two-word response. The one she had been living with, going to school with before. The man who had come over for Christmas last year. The one who had cleared out the refrigerator in this small apartment more than once.

The one they had thought was dead for the past six months.

"Mom? Is he real?"

She had been seeing him, Paula realized. Possibly in her dreams, or even when her eyes were open. Her tone was so fragile, something the blonde had repressed ever since Lawrence had handed her that bow. She needed reassurance, and that hadn't happened since before Paula went to prison.

"Yes," the mother whispered, tears forming in her eyes. Maybe her youngest daughter would get the happy ending she deserved. "He's real."

"Oh god," Artemis whimpered, stepping forward into him, his embrace. His muscular arms encircled her, and she curled into him, her hand splaying out on his chest. "Wally, you bastard."

His chuckle rumbled through his chest, and she melted as she listened to it. "I know, beautiful. I know." The speedster's voice lowered to a whisper, "I'm so sorry."

In that moment, Paula was glad to be in the universe she was in. Her Artemis deserved to love someone.

"I couldn't find you," he kept whispering, tears streaming down his face. "I was searching for so long. I just couldn't find you."

And Wally West deserved to live.

A/N: Hey guys! I'm feeling very iffy about that first section. It took five pages of Word to introduce and then kill Victor Stone, but I feel like it should have been longer. After I finish hashing everything out, I might rewrite this. I also wanted to make this chapter longer, but I'm thinking about three thousand words is going to be my goal for each chapter. Let me know your thoughts.

But Wally's baaaaack! And this is really why I think we deserve a season three (I mean, among other reasons.). You can't just kill Wally like that.

As always, tell me what you think and who you want to see!

Cheers,
Liv