Wally: FINALLY! It's over!

Me: What are you so happy about? This was your idea.

Wally: Since when is putting myself through emotional turmoil ever my idea?

Me: Since you became my muse.

Hey, all! So it's over! Thanks for everyone who commented and favorited and alerted and all that jazz! I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it!

Enjoy!

Wally woke up slowly, which was a first. Usually he was either asleep or he wasn't. When he woke up normally, it was with the usual accompaniment of an alarm clock or his beeper signaling hero duties.

There was nothing to wake him up this time. As his eyes slowly blinked open he recognized the dark ceiling of his Mt. Justice bedroom. Shadows danced across the walls from beneath the crack in the door as footsteps passed, faded, and passed again. Somebody was pacing. And he was in his Mt. Justice bedroom—even further proof that something had been seriously wrong.

Wally tilted his head to the side, spotting his clock among the clatter on his dresser. With a shock he bolted upright. "Seven at night?" he whispered into the dark. "How long was I out for?"

The footsteps stopped at his door, and there was a light knock on the wood. "Wally?" Megan's voice drifted to him. "Are you alright in there?"

"Uh, yeah, I think," he called back. As he stood up he recognized his Kid Flash uniform on the side of the bed, along with two sets of clothing that were violently too small for him. As it was he was in a black t-shirt and white and silver sweat-pants—the usual "scrubs" in the superhero business. Wally crossed to the door and pulled it open.

Outside stood Megan and Superboy, Megan with her hands clasped together and held down at her waist, and Superboy leaning against the wall with is arms folded across his chest. The Martian's eyes lit up upon seeing Wally and she flung herself at him. "Omigosh, you're back!"

"Uh, yeah," Wally said, confused, but never one to turn down a hug from a pretty lady. "What happened? Where's Rob and Ice Princess, Aqualad?"

"Ice Princess?" Artemis appeared suddenly to Wally's right, arms crossed. She had a frown on her face, but Wally could see the smile tugging at her lips as she looked at him. "I see that what happened hasn't changed your sense of wit—or lack thereof."

"KF!" Robin exclaimed, dropping down from the ceiling. "You're awake! Awesome!"

"Hey, Rob," Wally greeted. "Now, we all know each other, correct? Anybody wanna tell me what the heck happened? Was I asleep for long? Did I get attacked, what?"

The others hesitated and looked at each other. "You don't remember anything?" Megan ventured finally.

Wally rubbed the back of his head. "I remember getting blasted with the yellow beam from hell, but after that's a little fuzzy."

There was another pause as the rest of the team looked at each other. Wally got the distinct feeling they were all linked up but him and crossed him arms, annoyed. "Uh, hello, I'm right here."

Robin put a hand on Wally's shoulder and grinned at him. "It's good to have you back, Wally."

The others echoed the statement and started to move off, leaving Wally dumbfounded. "Where have I been?" he called. "Guys? Guys!"

…

Nobody would talk to him, but they sure were acting weird. Megan was hesitant in talking to him, as if every word she said would break him into tiny pieces. Robin had disappeared, along with Superboy, and Artemis just stared at him for a long time when he swung by her room.

Wally found Kaldur in the briefing room and was with a smile and a nod. He'd just hung up with the Flash as he walked in. "Was that my mentor?" Wally asked.

"It was," Kaldur said, inclining his head. "I was informing him of your progress. Unfortunately he is on a league emergency and doesn't know when he'll be able to get back."

Wally blinked. "Alright. Well, nobody else will talk to me, so how about you? Do you know what happened to me?"

Kaldur gave him a gentle smile, like he was talking to an eight-year-old or something. "I do not believe it is my place to say."

"Awesome," Wally groaned. "Something happened and nobody will tell me what it is! Why are there kid's clothes next to my bed? Why can't I remember anything?"

"The yellow beam affected you," the older boy said carefully. He hesitated. "You were changed."

"Changed how?"

The Atlantean stood. "I have some business to attend to," he said abruptly. "If you'll excuse me?"

"What?" Wally turned and followed Kaldur out of the briefing room. "But you didn't answer my question."

"I told you Wally," he said patiently, "it's not in my place to say." He put a hand on Wally's shoulder, silver-blue eyes calm. "I can say this, though—it wasn't your fault. You did nothing wrong."

Wally blinked and stared as Kaldur walked out of the room, disappearing down the hall. A couple seconds later the computer announced his departure from Mt. Justice.

…

Superboy was in the training room, beating one of his punching bags senseless. Wally found him there and leaned against the door frame, watching the boy release his anger the only way he knew how. Finally his blows slowed and he stopped, panting, leaning forward to rest his forehead against the cool material.

"What are fathers like, Wally?" he asked softly.

Wally started. He wasn't sure what surprised him more—the fact that Superboy had used Wally's name, or the question. He walked into the room, thinking about it. "I don't know," he said finally. It was an honest answer.

Superboy turned his head to look at him. "You had a father."

The redhead chuckled. "True. I don't think he qualifies as a father figure, though."

"Why?"

"When do they ever?" Wally easily deflected the question. He didn't want to talk about his dad. Not now, not ever. "Is this about Mr. Stick-up-his-butt?"

There was the slightest twitch of the lips on his teammates face, and Wally celebrated for getting that far. "I guess."

Wally walked over and sat down on the mat. "Don't worry about it," he told the clone. "He's the type of person who runs from his problems. He doesn't know how to deal with it, so he buries it and pretends it never happened."

"Like you?"

Thrown off guard, Wally stared at Superboy. The clone seemed to realize he said something wrong and stood up straight. "Thank you, Kid Flash," he told Wally. And then he walked out of the room.

Wally sat on the mat, thinking hard about what the clone said. For someone so brutal and angry, he sure was innocent. Like a child. His green eyes slipped closed as he thought of himself as a child. Terrified of everything.

A sinking feeling settled in his chest as the pieces started to fall into place. He picked himself up and headed for the lab.

…

Robin was just leaving the lab, so Wally had to duck out of the way before his best friend could spot him. As it was he was positive Robin felt the slight draft of wind that fluttered his cape, but he must've passed it off as the metallic door sliding closed because he didn't stop to investigate. Wally waited until he had disappeared around the corner before cautiously entering the lab.

It was sterile, as always. Wally went straight to the computer, where most lab write-ups were stored. He didn't get very far, though, when he attempted to log in, hitting Robin's firewall. He swore under his breath and pushed away from the computer terminal, rubbing at his face.

Robin must've known Wally would try to figure out what happened to him and taken extra precautions. Wally sat back and thought on it for a while, hand in his chin.

"Okay," he said aloud. "So the computer's blocked. What about the paper copies?"

He went over to the file cabinet and pulled at the drawer. Locked, naturally. Wally hesitated—he could try vibrating his molecules enough to either destroy the lock or the drawer hinges, but that would risk destroying the file he was looking for. So that path was blocked as well.

Wally was about to give up when he noticed the test tubes. There were three of them—one labeled with his name, and the other two with Barry's. They were locked behind a glass case, but Wally knew where the key was usually kept. He raced out of the room and returned in the same second he left, the key in his hand.

He unlocked the glass case and reached for the vial. A second and a half later the microscope was powered up and he was pressing his emerald eyes to the lens, adjusting it so he could focus better.

A second and a half after that, the lab was empty, both the microscope and the vial of blood back in their respective places with no evidence of being touched.

…

"Okay, now what's he up to?" Artemis muttered, tapping her foot as she waited impatiently for the speedster to show up.

The team had been assembled in the briefing room upon Wally's request—or demand, in cases like Artemis'. He told them he'd be right back and disappeared into the teleporter, leaving his teammates in a confused state.

Robin shrugged. "Maybe he remembered."

She frowned. "But Batman and Flash said that wasn't likely, because to him the situation never would've happened. The brain cells weren't re-developed, they just returned to the state he'd been in before the beam hit him."

Megan wrung her hands. "I hope he isn't too angry," she said anxiously. "We've really been blowing him off."

Robin gave her a reassuring smile, although on the inside he had the feeling that they were in for a huge lecture on Wally's part. His suspicions were confirmed when Wally showed up a couple minutes later, dragging his mentor behind him.

"Okay," he said when they were all facing him. "I get it. I turned into a kid again, said some things I should've, and now you all know that my dad was a jerk." He let out an angry breath.

Startled, Barry sent an accusing glance towards the teens. "Wasn't them," Wally said, shaking his head. "I found out myself. What I want to know is, why is everyone so different about it?"

Artemis opened her mouth, but Wally cut her off. "No, you need to hear this," he said. "Yeah, I was abused by my dad for the first nine years of my life, but that doesn't change me. I'm still me. I don't get why everyone else is treating me like I'm still eight!"

"Wally," Megan started to say, but she drifted off, not sure how to finish the sentence.

"Seriously, guys," Wally said, taking a step back and spreading his arms. "Look at me. I'm me, okay? What happened still happened, but I don't let that bother me, so you shouldn't let it bother you, either. And for God's sakes, I'm not a child. Don't treat me like one." He shot an angry look at his uncle. "What happened wasn't your fault. It wasn't anybody's. I haven't seen my dad in six years. I don't want to ever see him again. So do me a favor, and don't try to spare me the memories. I can deal."

Barry stepped up first, wrapping his arms around his nephew. Wally stiffened for a second, but relaxed and hugged him back, the rest of the team joining in. Artemis hung back, staring hard at Wally and thinking about what he said. As the rest of the team said their apologies, she slipped out of the room, figuring she had a lot to think about.

…

Wally spent the night on the roof, staring at the stars. It was a beautiful night, and he could make out every last one of the constellations from where he sat. The night was peaceful and silent, which gave him even more to think about.

He meant every word he'd said to the team, but for some reason he still felt troubled about it. Now that the team knew about his childhood, they seemed to be treating him like something that would break, cautious of every word, every action they made. That was why Wally didn't want to tell anyone in the first place—because he wasn't fragile and he could take the words and watching other people with their dads. He was lucky, because he had an uncle who took the place of a father. Other people weren't so lucky. It made his blood boil just thinking about it.

But he didn't want his team to see him differently. He'd been handling all those subtle, flippant remarks about fathers since he was nine years old. He wasn't any different—but the others sure were.

The door to the roof slid open and out walked Artemis. Wally was surprised to see her, considering she had disappeared during the love fest earlier. The blonde didn't say anything, just sat down next to him, criss-cross, and leaned back on her hands.

They sat in comfortable silence until Artemis finally said, "You had better take me seriously, because I'm not in the mood to screw around."

This made Wally smirk, but he had the feeling Artemis wasn't joking. So instead he said, "I'm listening."

Still, Artemis hesitated—probably to see if his sincerity was a trap. After a moment she said, "It's been driving me crazy all night. How… how do you, you know… deal?"

She shot the redhead a sideways glance and hurried on. "I mean, for someone who's had a father who was just… how can you stay so happy?"

Wally thought about it for a moment. "Because I had something better," he admitted. "I had Barry, and Aunt Iris. It took me a while, but once I realized what I had, I didn't want to let it go. So I didn't think about him."

"You can't not think about someone who was your own flesh and blood," Artemis said darkly.

Wally backtracked. "No—there were those moments. But by him being a total jerk to me and Mom, he made me who I am. For the better. So now I'm better than him, and I can live with that."

Artemis was silent for a while, and Wally let her be. They stared up at the sky as the silence stretched, listening to the whistle of the waves lapping against the beach, and the noise of the street down below.

Finally, Artemis said, "Thank you Wally." She paused for a second, and then gave him a sly look. "But if you tell anyone about this, you won't be waking up the next day."

"I hear you loud and clear," Wally chuckled. Artemis stood and walked back to the door, leaving Wally to the stars

Wally laid down and stretched, tucking his hands behind his head. He had good friends.

...

Almost five children die every day as a result of child abuse. More than three out of four are under the age of 4.

About 30% of abused and neglected children will later abuse their own children, continuing the horrible cycle of abuse.

Only 10.8% of children abused by parents is done physically, while almost 60% is through neglect.

You don't have to be touched to be abused. If you hurt, be it through contact or words or even lack of either, get help.

You are not alone.