Wally's legs are throbbing as he comes back to consciousness. His head is buzzing, and the coldness of the surface beneath him isn't helping anything. Soft hands are gently tapping his cheek, whispering his name, but with each instance the voice grows louder and louder.

"….Kid?...KF!" the voice says. Wally can determine it's a female, and the soft hands again taps his cheek.

He manages to open his eyes, letting out a groan, "…..What happened?"

The girl peers at him curiously, her eyebrows furrowed with concern, "It's okay, I think. You stumbled through the zeta tube, running a million miles an hour, and then you tripped on the couch and face-planted in the middle of the living room."

Wally remembers a blinding light and running fast and then tripping, but he feels like the memory isn't his own. Like it was somebody else who did that, and not him.

"…Kid Flash?" the girl asks, her voice soft but persistent.

What was her name? His mind offers Megan but it just doesn't feel right. He tries to match the face to the name. Megan. She's got auburn hair, and warm brown eyes, and freckles dusting her nose. Her most noticeable feature is her skin. Which is green like grass.

Megan. Megan. M'gann? Wally's mind offers the fact that she's a Martian. He feels a strange and foreboding sense of déjà vu. M'gann is a Martian name, right?

"I'm fine, M'gann," Wally says quietly, getting up and dusting his pants off.

M'gann's eyes widen, "Who told you my civilian identity name?"

Connor. Connor told you. His mind offers again.

"…Erm, Connor told me," Wally says.

M'gann's eyes narrow minutely, "Superboy," she corrects, and her hands are rubbing against each other nervously.

Wally's mind is screaming, WRONG! WRONG! WRONG!

"Kid Flash," M'gann says, "Are you sure your okay? I can get Black Canary to look at you, maybe you have a concussion or something…."

Wally shakes his head, "Listen, I think I'm just going to go lay down."

His feet carry him to a room that he half recognizes. The door opens with a hiss, and it looks mostly bare. A desk is pushed against the wall in the corner, and a long set of empty shelves line the walls. For some reason, he feels like the shelves shouldn't be empty.

He lays on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, trying to recollect and sort his thoughts.

There's a huge gaping hole right before he stumbled through the zeta tube. He remembers a lot of snow. Cold. Saying goodbye. A man's pained shout. The memories before that are more or less so clear.

His mind right now can be categorized into two parts. One which is offering all the answers, all his memories, and the other half which is screaming that everything is wrong. Well, not everything, but most things. The other half is contradicting every thing it's opponent says. Like before with Megan.

His mind offering the answers says her name is Megan. The other half agreed with that. It says her name is also M'gann and a Martian. The other half agrees. But as soon as M'gann refused to use any civilian names, his other half screamed and shouted and fought and thrashed. However, both sides agreed whatever was going on, it's best not to tell anyone. Because he's observant, and he can tell that if he mentions his fears he'll be subjected to probing and uncomfortable questioning.

He decides that he'll sort through his 'memories' and see what he knows is fact.

His name is Wallace Rudolph West. He is fifteen. He lives with his mother and father. His uncle, Barry Allen, is the Flash. He is a superhero by the identity of Kid Flash. He is on a covert operations team with a Martian, a clone of Superman, an Atlantian, and his best friend who is Batman's sidekick.

The door hisses open, and started, he sits up.

"Um, is this your room? Because Batman said this is my room."

No. Wrong. This is his room.

A girl steps in, her arms holding up three heavy boxes. She sets them down, pushing them against the wall. She's a pretty blonde, with a delicately-shaped mouth and eyes, and an attractive, high-bridged nose. Her lips are set into a quizzical expression. Her eyes are a sharp, and keen silver, and her arms are crossed defiantly over her chest. Her hair is short, the tips barely brushing her shoulders.

His other half is screaming again. Her hair. It's all wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

"Who are you?" Wally manages to splutter through his mess of jumbled thoughts.

"Artemis. Your new team mate and resident archer," she says, sticking her hand out. Her voice is husky and Wally finds himself wanting to hear her talk some more.

He takes her hand, shaking it, but as his skin brushes against hers, a jolt runs up his arm and through his body. A vision strikes him.

He sits on the couch, rubbing a dog's brown, soft fur as the sound of somebody cluttering pots and pans was heard from the kitchen. The person's padding footsteps are heard gently sounding on the carpet, and in the doorway appears a woman with wavy blond hair reaching past her shoulder and a sultry smile on her face.

"Hey, Wally," she says, "You want some pasta?"

"You know it, Arty," Wally replies back, getting up, and then gently kissing her cheek.

'Arty' pushes his face away, scowling but still with laughter apparent in his eyes, "Don't call me that, Wallace."

"Come on, Arty," Wally whines, stealing another kiss.

Oh, god.

"…Hey, are you okay?" Artemis's voice sounds, shaking him out of his vision.

Wally backs up suddenly. Artemis is just the older version of this Arty person.

"…Arty," Wally whispers, not realizing he had said anything until he said it, and his eyes widen, embarrassed.

Artemis's eyes narrow, "Don't call me that. God, I hate that nickname."

He needs to get back. This isn't right, it's wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

And for once, it agrees with his other half for once.

And then, he's falling down. Down, down, down, down. Down.

He's never been so afraid in his life. But now his other half is screaming yes. Yes. Yes. Yes.

oOoOoOo

"Kid Flash. B03."

"The Wallman is here! Now let's get this party start-"

Why is he carrying all this beach stuff? He trips, falling flat on his face.

"…-ed?"

"Wallman, huh?" a voice says dryly above him, "Love the uniform. What exactly are your powers?"

Same eyes. Same lips. But the hair now falls gracefully from it's elegant ponytail past her waist.

Déjà vu. All over again. And his head hurts, and Miss Martian and Rob and Aqualad and Superboy are all smirking at him and laughing, and she's just so familiar.

It hurts. Oh god. It hurts. It feels like his brain is expanding and pounding and he feels the blood rush to his ears.

"Uh," he stutters, getting up, "Who's this?"

"Artemis. Your new team mate."

And so it begins again.

oOoOoOo

On New Years, when he finally works up the courage to kiss her, he remembers everything. Like, everything everything.

He doesn't tell her. Tell her what's to come. But the universe has given him a second chance, and he pretty sure he's not going to waste it this time. He calls her Arty now and then. Not to piss her off, but he holds onto those memories and the memories of their future together tightly. He takes cautionary steps so they won't be ripped apart like last time.

Artemis can tell. She can always tell. She sees the wizened look in his eyes that is well beyond his years, but she doesn't press him.

Some things stay the same. They both still get accepted to Stanford. Their little flat in Palo Alto is still bought with their painstakingly meticulously hard-earned money. Dick becomes Nightwing. Jade and Roy elope. Lian is born. But the Reach never invades the Earth. The Light is shut down. They find Nelson again, a stray wandering about the park next to their house.

But some things are different. They never hang up the masks. Artemis adopts the mantle 'Huntress,' and Wally becomes the Flash. Bart's incessant talking and spoiler alerts never grace Artemis-of-Wally's-second-chance's ears. Tula doesn't die. Jason Todd doesn't die, but becomes Red Hood, who seems to have become a wandering non-official vigilante who frequently hops between the blurry line of good and evil.

And he wonders, if, without Artemis, maybe he's been stuck in a loop this whole time, just waiting for somebody to pull him out. Because now, the pattern's broken.

And both sides of his mind are quiet, content.

A/N: Don't really like the ending. So, I've lost my inspiration for about everything. I threw a tantrum when Blue Beetle was all, "he will cease." I chucked my remote at the T.V., and then proceeded to crawl into my bed and cry. If the show had one more episode, this is what I want. Because there was little closure. Miss Martian and Superboy didn't even kiss.

Anyways. 'Endgame' really shook me out of my happy little world where none of the heroes would die and they would all be happy.

There. All done. I hoped you liked it.