Wally's relationship with his parents had always been rather complicated. When he was two or three the yelling had begun, long nights filled with angry words and slurs filled the young boy's ears. The first sign of physical abuse was when Wally was six, his father was blantantly drunk and his mother had been in the path a furry. A slap was sent across Mary's face, but she continued to bark back insults. Only about a month after the slap, Mary had finally learned her place, as her husbands advances in assult seemed to be escalating. One night, Wally had dared to stand in front of his mother, a vain attempt to get his father to stop. He recieved his first ever beating that night, but even to this day he would be quick to say it was worth it if he could protect his mom. He was loyal.

He was seven when he was first locked in the closet, no dinner as a punishment. Wally's crys caused his father to bang on the door to quiet him, and Wally actually listened. He, silently, spent the rest of the night-and much of the next day- in the closet, quiet sobs escaping his lips. His fear would only grow when his stomach would growl, worried his father would hear and get angier. Even when his father finally let him out, he didn't dare ask for food, only nodded in agreement as his father scolded him. He was obedient.

Wally knew never to speak of what would happen at school, he knew it wasn't normal. But he was still afraid, afraid they would think lesser of him. So he kept his yap shut, and he became the quiet, nerdy red-head in the back of the class who didn't have have many friends. He was an outsider.

Wally was ten when he was first locked out of the house, he slept against the side of the porch, praying no one would see him. He wasn't aloud in for three days, he had resorted in doing something that would become second nature to him, digging through the garbage for food. He had lucked-out for breakfast, someone had threw away an entire box of stawberries. Sure, a few had mold, but he didn't eat those ones and it was actual food. He was learning.

He was eleven when he met Barry for the first time, twelve when he would recreate the expiriment and become Kid Flash. The beatings only got worse after that, his accelerated healing allowed him to take more. His eating habits had changed though, he would go to the dumpster every night now, an attempt to save his parents the extra money. And when his dad would decide he had been good enough to join them for dinner, he would always make sure to eat less then they did. He was skinny, yes, classified as anorexic technically, but it didn't matter. He was willing to sacrafice himself.

When his was thirteen he met Boy Wonder for the first time, Robin had made so much fun of his appearance that Wally blantly asked Barry if they could never come back to Gothom right in front Batman's protégé. Robin apologized, saying he was just joking, and Wally half smiled saying he was doing the same. It was also the age when Wally's dad had starting calling him an "it" or the "thing." He had lost his humanity.

When he was fourteen he and Robin were known for being attached at the hip. So close that the detective was really starting to notice Wally's strange habits. Like how Wally could be bright and bubbly, but shut down in a second or how he would flinch when Robin would punch his arm playfully. It wasn't until one night that he had been at a total loss for words, they had been on patrol, walking in an alley way, it was the way Wally's eyes practically lit up of the dumpster. Robin cocked an eyebrow, but the speedstar failed to notice the boy's questioning glance. He ran over and instantly picked up the bag of takeout that had caught his eye. "Score!" He had proclaimed, smiling. Lots of questions and lots of answers later, Wally had settled on finally settled on,"Well a speedster will sometimes take what he can get." But, Robin wasn't so sure, he had never seen the Flash do that, but, alas, he trusted his bestfriend. The fact that Wally knew his secret identity was proof of that already. He was a good friend.

At fifteen he had joined the team, had his first kiss -ten buck if you can guess who, and it was finally getting better. But, fate is twisted. His father had lost his job and, well, Wally was the first thing his eyes had landed on when he came home. It was a mixture of fists, feet, and slurs. Yet another painful memory to add to the collection of his horrible growing up expirience. The beatings started up again, the long days and nights in the closet were like an old enemy visiting more and more frequently, and not to mention how much food his father had withheld from him. He was never going to be happy.

He had been getting closer to a healthier weight, but those plans were now out the window. He dropped a good five pounds, his ribs where starting to show through his suit. Everytime he came to the mountain he had to retain himself from eating them dry. Artemis was beginning to point his appearance out, but Robin didn't dare, he knew it would be a touchy subject. It was hard to pinpoint Wally's weight, his matabolism had it constantly flucuating, but he wasn't anywhere near healthy amymore. He got used to the pain of an empty stomach and the taste not eating left in your mouth- no seriously the taste is naturally awful- but he could deal. But, the lack of food and sleep was taking its tole, he was healing slower than normal and last night's bruses hadn't gone away. Wally entered the cave, fully prepaid with a big lie-something about a fight, but the moment he layed his eyes on Robin his breath caught in his throat. He was falling apart.

He knew, oh God, he knew. You could see his eyes put everything together in a matter of seconds. Wally's eyes were filling with his tears, what was he supposed to say now? Robin wrapped his arms around Kid's shrinking frame, pulling him into a tight embrace, but loose enough to make sure he didn't make the injuries worse.

"You are never going back to that house." It was like Wally's world exploded-no supernoveaed. And in a second he was returning the hug, allowing those tears to finally fall from his cheeks, his body shaking with sorrow. It was like he had finally gotten permission to leave, to make it stop, like that's all he was waiting for, and oh God it felt good.

"Thank you."

He was saved.