A/N: Hey guys! I apologize for the first version of this story... I've learned the hard way. NEVER copy and paste something from a Nokia onto here... Anyway here's the improved version.

Disclaimer: I don't own Young Justice, or anything DC comic related. Except for Flash... My kitten. (Not the real one. I wish.)

Ch. 1.

Wally and Dick stare at the dark grey gravestone. Artemis Crock-West. 1995-2015. Beloved Daughter, Friend, and Fiance...

They stare at it for a good hour and a half, the weather, unlike the cliche rainy weather from books and movies, was bright and sunny, however that most certainly did not match their moods. especially Wally's. Artemis had died in a car accident a week ago. it had been a shock to everyone. Central City was one of the safest, with the lowest record of crashes-or death in America. They finally look away and trudge back to Dick's car. Wally jerked open the dark blue car door and sits down with an angry huff. Turning away, he stared at the window, waiting for the quick changing scenery to begin. Dick looks at Wally and sighs.

"Home?"

Wally just nods mutely.

Wally

After thanking Dick for driving me home, i freeze. I couldn't handle it. Artemis, my fiance, was gone. Gone. My knees grow weak so i sit down on the upper step of the house, no I fall onto the steps, taking a long look at the house. Me and Artemis paid an equal share of the cost each moth. We made just enough each payday. I put my hands in my head an groan. I would need to up my hours of work. Thank God I was done with collage.

Slowly I fish out my keys and enter the house. I grab a bottle of water and a pre-made sandwich and sit down on the sofa but don't bother to turn on the TV. I eat in silence, it weighing down on my ears. This is something I'll never get used to. I stare at my sandwich, appetite gone.

Ring! Ring! I grope around for my phone. The more it rang the faster I tried to find it. My finger tips brush against the Galaxy %S's smooth case. Ring! I lunge at it but it slips away. With a groan, I sit up and pick up the phone like a 'civilized person'. Please.

"Hey it's Wally-"

"Is this the residence of Wallace Rudolph West?" The speaker interrupts.

"Uh... Yes. Yes it is, How can i help you?" Please not be work. Please not be work...

"Were you the fiance of the late Artemis Crock-West?"

My eyes water at the mention of her name. "Yes-" My voice cracks, and I clear my throat. "Yes. Yes I was." On second thought, work would have been better.

"Mr. West, I am park of the Children's Literal and Health Needs and I have called to inform you of the child Ms. Crock-West placed in your care..."

My eyes widen. Artemis had a child? And she didn't tell me? More importantly, how did I not notice? I mean, when you're pregnant, it's kinda...obvious...

I think back to when Artemis had suddenly announced, two years ago, that she would be teaching in Kenya for nine months. Supposedly. I inhale sharply.

"Mr. West, were you aware of this situation?"

I shake my head, but then realizing she couldn't see me, replied, "No, I was not aware she had a child..." I trailed off awkwardly.

I could have sworn I heard the lady muttering under her breath about the 'New generation, and how back in her day..' I roll my eyes. Really?

"Mr. West, I need to request your presence here, tomorrow at the latest. When would be a good time for you?"

In other words come now or we'll hunt you down.

"Uh... In an hour should be fine. Could you give me-"

"The address is 6489 NW 570th ave. Kyler parkway, Please, hurry." She hangs up before I can even ask for her name, or even the kid's, Slowly I remove the phone from my ear and stare at it.

What just happened?

I take out my keys and trudge to my silver Hyundai Sonata. I fling the door open and slam the starter button, the engine roars to life and I speed off, again wondering how this happened to me.

I jog up the steps of the building and quickly enter, scanning the room. I spot a secretary's desk and walk up to the elderly woman. She looks up at me, eyebrows raised.

"Um, hi, I'm Wallace-"

"West." She cuts me off. "Level 6, do down the left corridor, the second room to the right. Number 645. Now go. Shoo!" She makes a waving motion.

I blink and look at her weirdly. Well, someone was prepared. I think wryly. I walk to the nearest elevator and press the bright blue '6' button, awkwardly running my fingers through my hair, trying to smooth it out. The music was not helping my already on edge nerves. Finally, after what seemed like forever, the door slides open and I'm lest wishing I wrote the lady's directions down. Go right, first door to the left...no. That didn't sound right. 15 minutes later, I find the room with another angry old lady. What is it with little old lady's hating on the world?

"Mr. West?" She immediately asked in a no nonsense voice.

"Yeah. That's me. I'm here." Yay.

She nods. "Come with me." She pushes open another door inside the room and inside that room was a kid, playing with large Lego's, only red and yellow, I noted.

The kid turned around, large green eyes meeting my emerald ones, his hazel hair falling in them. He stares at the lady like his worst fears had been confirmed. I don't blame ya, buddy. The people here... I shudder inwardly.

The lady picks him up, "This is Bartholomew Allen-West, age two." She hands him to me. "And you, Mr. West, are the father. Good luck." She adds. She then hands me a folder. "This contains all the information about young Bartholomew you'll need to know. Have a nice day." She turns to walk out.

"That's it!" I call out in a panicky voice. "No class, no guidebook, no nothing? How can you just-"

"Mr. West, all parents experience this exact same situation when they bring home their first child. I assure you, nothing you're doing hasn't been done before. She stares at me coldly. "As before, have a nice day." She walks out of the room, leaving me alone.

I stare at the kid leaning against my chest. He looks up with large innocent eyes. I shift him to a more comfortable position, and he buries his head in my neck. "Well buddy, looks like it's just me and you." I sigh and walk out. When I get to the lobby, the lady from before is waiting for me.

"That's for the child." She points to the car seat. Remember, children go in the back, not the front." With that she goes back to her work, ignoring me.

"Thanks!" I call out hesitantly and take it out of the building. I quickly secure it on the right side of the car and slowly ease Bartholomew inside. I make sure it's secure and, with one last look, shut the door. I hop in the front and groan loudly. Artemis was always one to bring the expect the unexpected saying to life, but really! Artemis...

I slam my head against the steering wheel.

"Wally?" I turn to Bartholomew, rubbing my forehead in the process.

"Yeah kiddo?"

"Awr you gonna let me stay with you?"

I nod mutely.

"Fowevew?"

"Of course." I hear myself say. What. Wally, you... You can't just adopt a kid-

"Pinky Pwomise?" He holds out his tiny pinky and I melt. With a smile, I hold out mine and he curls his tightly around mine.

"If you bwake a pinky pwomice youw pinky falls off." He warns solemnly.

I grin and put my hand over my heart like I'm swearing an oath. He smiles back and announce, " I'm hungwy, can we go home now?"

"We're on our way, kiddo." I start the engine and we head home.

"Wally?"

"Yeah?"

"How faw away is...home?"

"'Bout 30 minutes give or take. Why?" Please don't be the bathroom. Please don't-

"I need to go potty. Now."

My eyes widen exaggeratedly. "Great..." I mutter. "Okay, kiddo, next gas station I see, we'll stop." Look on the bright side. At least he's potty trained.

"Okay. Please huwwy."

"Gas station, gas station..." I mutter under my breath. I spot a Shell gas station and nearly cry in relief. I quickly turn to the right and swing into the parking space. Can't have a kid peeing on the car seats. I swig open the door and quickly unbuckle him. Scooping him out, I sprint inside, locking the door in the process.

"Where's the bathroom?" I gasp out.

The man at the counter raises an eyebrow and slowly points his finger towards the large, blue sign that says 'Bathroom' in English, Spanish, and Portuguese. And Russian, because, hey, why not?

Without looking back, I rush inside and set Bartholomew on the toilet. And not a moment to soon. I sigh in relief and help him wash his hands.

"Do I have to?" Bartholomew asks, wrinkling his nose.

I roll my eyes in exasperation. That's something I'd say. When I was younger, of course. "Yes, you have to wash your hands. You'll get sick otherwise and I can't have that."

Grudgingly, he rinses his hands, though I catch him trying to let the soap fall through his fingers.

"Bartholomew..." I warn.

He goes back to washing his hands, standing on the stepping stool that was conveniently there. Maybe the guy out there can see the future. I joke to myself.

I go back to staring at the tiny kid in front of me. He's about 10 pounds underweight, as his ribs were showing. His hair was like my mom's, hazel with some red, with my eyes and Artemis's smile, grin, whatever. And nose. But my skin tone.

Bartholomew turns to me, grinning ear to ear. Okay, scratch that. Artemis's smile, my grin.

"Okay Wally. Let's go." He holds out his tiny hand and I take it. We walk out.

The man from before looks at me and smiles in understanding. "First kid?"

Yep, defiantly can see the future. I nod. "Something like that."

"It gets easier, don't give up hope." He gives me an encouraging look and hands Bartholomew a granola bar. "Just this once, free."

Bartholomew grabs it and I nudge him. "Bartholomew, what do you say?"

He looks up and brightly says, "Thank you Mw."

The man laughs. "Not a problem, young man."

"Thanks, Mr..." I look at his tag. "Ryder."

He waves his hand. "Not a problem. I have a soft spot for kids, especially after my son died from leukemia." He gives me a serious, pointed look. "Treasure him, my boy. You'll never know when you'll loose him." With that he turns away, leaving me gaping. Seeing the future theory confirmed. Unconsciously I pick up Bartholomew and hug him tightly. He was all I had left of Artemis.

A/N: So, what did you guys think? This is the first story I've written in a while-the last time I wrote a story was in 4th grade about talking eggs. Don't ask. Anyway, please tell me what you think!