I should be working on my other stories but this idea has been in my head for too long for me to just let it go so here's it is.

Ceased, Chapter 1

"Just tell them, okay?"

Death wasn't like he'd thought it would be. There were no waiting arms of his grandfather or soft light or pearly gates. There was no burning screams of agonized pain. There wasn't even an empty void for him to float through.

As far as Wally could tell death felt an awful lot like laying on the snow in an insulated, friction proof suit.

Wind was kind enough to ruffle his bangs, bringing extra attention to his face and cold packed against the left side of it.

Green eyes flickered open, squinting into the near impenetrable darkness. He could vaguely see shapes in the distance, or maybe they were right in front of his half frozen face, brought on by the snow clinging to his lashes. He couldn't tell.

The sky was partially cast over, showing only the smallest gleanings of stars.

Wally tried to push himself up, hissing when the effort ended in shooting pain through his limbs, every molecule shrieking with it. He fell back down, electricity spasming under his skin worse than when he tried going through walls.

After his aborted attempt to get up the ginger lay there, taking stock of his situation. Every muscle he had hurt, minus his brain, and thanks to Batman's design he wasn't growing numb because of the ice growing around him.

It almost felt like when he woke up in the hospital after recreating the Flash Experiment, only the bed there was harder and he didn't have a hundred monitors hooked up to him.

Thoughts of his uncle and his friends, where they had gone, fluttered through his head. He shoved them away violently to stop the heart break that came with them.

He was dead, or he should have been. He knew it, he had felt the triple speedster cyclone strip his life away as he took the runoff energy.

Fastest boy alive. Right.

With that bitter thought in mind Wally tried again, managing to push himself up. He shouldn't have been in the snow even if he had, by some miracle, survived. They wouldn't let him lay in there and become human permafrost.

His muscles begged him to lay back down when he forced himself into a stand. Something wasn't adding up. He needed to figure out what.

So he did what he did best. He ran.

And almost fell on his face.

He had started at full speed, to stretch his legs and get to civilization, only to find that his 'top speed' was now, well, not.

He could tell even in the pitch of his landscape that he was faster, thanks to the internal speedometer that all speedsters had. Much, much faster. Faster than he had ever been before. Maybe even as fast as Bart. As Jay. As Barry.

One more mystery.

There were getting to be so many it threatened to make his head spin. In order to figure it out he had to get more information, and he wasn't getting it there.

So, with a mix of excitement and apprehension, he started to run again.

It was amazing. It was like his first sprint as Kid Flash, his first race from Central to Keystone, only faster. The wind screamed in his ears until he destroyed the barrier of sound, leaving him in silence to run. The snow launched itself in the air behind him and when he hit the water his hopes, which had been lifting, exploded into a laugh that burst from his chest. He may not know how but he was running quicker than he ever had before, across the surface of the ocean.

If nothing else he was faster now.

So, maybe he was in a coma.