Disclaimer: I do not own Young Justice, the comic or the show, or any of the characters associated with it. I make no profit from this work of fiction; it is purely for entertainment purposes.

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Deja vu would have been the word for what Wally felt if he didn't remember immediately after waking that he had, indeed, come to in a similar manner before. He'd only been out for twenty minutes, but the tranquilizer that was clinging to him by a thread made him groggy. A quick glance around, up and then right, sparked a small amount of confusion on top of the anxiety he felt over what had already transpired.

"W... wrrsh Uhnkl Brrwrry...?" So the guard was still in. Trying to talk around it was already hard, now it just felt like he was trying to swallow molasses. What a terrible combination, having a mouth full of drool and feeling a dry patch in the back of his throat that he couldn't quite reach.

Batman was the only other living thing in the room, and now that his attention wasn't centered on him or his uncle, Wally found that he could catch a glimpse of the monitors Batman was observing. It was a stretch, he had to strain his eyes all the way to the side, and it did cause him a little discomfort, but he could see them. He assumed he'd been laying there for some time, unable to feel the electrodes that he could see the ends of the wires for. A look down at himself gave him no other information; they'd placed the blanket that was keeping him warm over him, completely concealing his body and, he grimaced, the restraints that he knew were still there.

It took a few moments, but Batman seemed to have deciphered Wally's terribly slurred and muffled speech. "The Flash," he said pointedly, "Made a trip to Central City after you went under. It's only been three hours since you returned from the mission, he went to inform your parents of your condition."

Wally couldn't decide if he was more concerned over the fact that he had a "condition", or that his parents now knew he had one. That it was serious enough for his uncle to have to run all the way back from- The boy's brows furrowed as he realized he didn't actually know where he was. He knew he was in a hospital room, but where? Which hospital? Or were they in the infirmary at the mountain base?

A more pressing concern, though, as he was left with being able to do barely anything more than think, was why wasn't Barry back yet? Were they really that far away, or was the news so bad that his uncle had been sucked into consoling his family instead of coming back right away?

When Batman turned he caught sight of the troubled expression that had overtaken Wally's face. He didn't look as panicked as he'd been before Barry left. Judging by the way the beeping of the monitor gradually began to increase, though, it was clear that he was slowly getting there. "Focus, Wally."

The stern command seemed to snap the redhead out of the downward spiral his thoughts were taking. His eyes were clear when the man took up the space beside his bed, the clipboard he'd been holding resting atop a stool in the corner.

"Do you remember what I was telling you before?"

Wally wanted to nod, but settled for a small noise of agreement.

"Do you think you can stay calm without your uncle here?"

Another noise, hesitant but affirmative.

Batman stood and observed him for a long moment, so long that Wally could practically feel his skin beginning to crawl with uneasiness. He forced himself to hold eye contact, and when the man took a seat he felt a tiny rush of relief.

"With your mission compromised Aqualad's top priority was to get the team out safely. His focus was on retreating and assisting one of your other two groups, if need be, in order to make sure all members returned safely. The attack was not random; the groups that engaged you were expecting your arrival. They were on high alert before you began recon."

Wally's brows arched in surprise. They'd dropped into the middle of a hot zone? The thought that Batman would never knowingly send them into such territory came a split second before he dismissed the possibility of a mole as well. They'd already been down that road; if there had been one they would have been exposed by now.

"The League is currently going on the assumption that whoever coordinated the patrol also has knowledge of your team acting on behalf of the League on various other instances. What is of more importance, at the moment, is who they are and why they targeted you."

Batman's words paused, and for a moment Wally thought he expected him to tell him something. A moment's thought proved otherwise, however, as the Dark Knight rose and walked out of his line of sight, the metal click and slide of what Wally thought might have been drawers sounding in the quiet room. After a soft shuffle the man returned, a single folder in hand.

"You were taken after a brief struggle. Aqualad was rendered unconscious, and Miss Martian reports having lost mental contact with you shortly after. You were found three hours later by Artemis, Robin, Miss Martian, and Zatanna, Superboy having been assigned the task of carrying Aqualad to the Bioship which, upon instruction from Miss Martian, returned him to the mountain for immediate treatment."

The folder opened with a harsh sounding snap, and Wally saw the edge of the dark, nearly opaque, documents inside. He recognized them as x-rays, at least six of them, one of which Batman lifted for him to view more easily. Immediately he realized what he was looking at; it was the radiographic image of a skull.

"Whh...?" The first things he noticed were the small, seemingly random areas of white, lines forming the distinct outlines of tiny cubes apparent in each section. From the coloring they appeared to have hollow areas, more white lines sprouting from each corner to curl back toward the area occupied by the brain almost like wires. He counted seven in total, some harder to see than others, almost like they were buried beneath additional layers of tissue.

Wally's eyes darted to the second image as Batman replaced the one of the skull, this time showing him a spine. The little cubes and wires were everywhere.

"When your teammates found you, you were alone and injured but far from a critical state. Whoever captured you obviously did not intend to kill you at that time. These x-rays," Batman placed them back into the folder and set them aside, "Are of your body. The white areas that you noticed are biochips wired directly into your central nervous system."

It was with the most sickening feeling that Wally made the connection between the chips in his body and his inability to move. Fortunately the violent gagging clued Batman in on the state of the shocked teenager.

Unfortunately, he didn't seem to be making a move to remove that mouth guard. When Wally vomited, his mouth didn't open nearly wide enough, the small trash bin Batman was holding and the presence of his hand under his head lifting and tilting it not enough to keep some of the contents of his stomach from spilling over his face and pillow. He retched violently, staining the blanket laid out over him as well with his sick.

No thoughts came to the boy as he heaved, his mind scattered even when the only thing to come up was air. The terrible burn was strong in his mouth, the fluid having stained his teeth and tongue with the horrid taste, some of it trapped under the hook of the guard. His eyes stung with tears both from the retching and emotional distress, and it almost didn't feel weird when Batman cradled his head for a second more and set him gently down on the bed now devoid of a pillow. Almost.

The man seemed hesitant to leave, even more so when Wally let out a pitiful whine, but immediately after his departure a pair of nurses entered. He squeezed his eyes shut as his face was cleaned, tears refusing to cease their stinging. Batman was still there standing just over their shoulders, making sure they didn't remove the guard, Wally found out, the moment it was reached for. With his head positioned over a medical pan, they set about cleaning around the mouth guard.

Wally couldn't figure out why this was happening to him. The last thing he could remember was setting out excitedly in the Bioship for a mission with his team, his friends, then waking up here. Barry was gone, Kaldur was seriously injured, possibly because of him, and now Batman was standing impassively to the side as two strangers supported his paralyzed body to better get puke out of his mouth. Probably so he wouldn't choke on it.

One of the nurses pulled back the soiled blanket, fussing momentarily as it caught on something. With morbid curiosity he opened his eyes, straining hard to get a look at himself. As he suspected the restraints were still there, thick padded leather bands buckled to the bed over his forearms, thighs, and ankles, electrode wires peeking out from under the dusty blue shirt the staff had no doubt put him in. Where he wasn't covered in clothes or restraints he was covered in bruises and cuts, nearly healed but their mere presence was enough.

He wished he'd choked.

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