Archive of Our Own ^beta

It was different every time, which was to say, it was always the exact same. In the dream Wally kept hearing them scream. 

He was in the upstairs hallway. He blinked blearily a few times, then sucked in a breath when he heard his babies screaming at the top of their lungs. Both of them. Babies screaming was normal, it was the only method they had to communicate, it was natural for them, it didn’t necessarily mean anything was wrong. Most parents came to understand this. Most parents stopped feeling a hot wave of earth-shattering panic whenever they heard their newborns crying.

Wally was not a very good parent, evidently, because he felt that panic every single time anyways.

They were in their bassinets, in his and Linda’s bedroom. His mind buzzed through the worst possibilities: they were sick, they were hurt, they were scared. They would die in seconds if he couldn't get to them. He took off running, but for some reason the Speed Force wasn’t working. He couldn’t tap into it. Wally ran the normal way, catapulting himself down the hallway and through the bedroom doorway and over to the bassinets. 

It took him a moment to realize that the moment he had started running, they had stopped crying. He leaned over the bassinets, grasping the sides of them with uncontrollably trembling hands. No, no, this wasn’t right. Wally reached down into them, grabbing at both blankets with one hand each, but there was nothing under them, nothing at all. He let out a strangled cry. They were empty. His babies were gone. Someone had stolen them, or they had just disappeared, and they were gone. They were gone.

He startled awake with a choked breath. He was surrounded by his dark bedroom, Linda sleeping beside him, the bassinets to his right. Oh. A dream. Another one.

Drawing in a breath, Wally pushed himself up and had almost stepped off the bed when he heard Linda yawning beside him.

“They’re still there,” Linda said groggily. “I checked.”

Wally’s whole body froze. “What?” 

“They’re still there, I just looked. Go back to sleep.” She reached over a hand to bat playfully at his face, and then pulled the comforter further over her shoulders. 

There was an acute sense of shame making its way through Wally’s body. He felt heat rise in his cheeks. 

And what kind of father, what kind of person would need to check constantly that his children were still there in the bassinet, would distrust the baby monitors, would surge awake half a dozen times in one night with a panicky feeling in his ribs that insisted they’re not there they’re not there. Not a normal one, certainly. 

Go back to sleep. You’re acting insane . That would be the sensible thing to do.

Not even bothering to push back the covers, he raced over to the bassinets for a glimpse of their little sleeping forms  and then returned to the bed. At super-speed it only took millionths of a second. Linda didn’t even notice he had gone.

***

“I think you got the wrong kind again,” Bart complained, taking a bite out of his glazed doughnut while running through the streets of Keystone at super-speed.

“Hey, it’s a free doughnut, what are you complaining about?” Wally was keeping pace with him, zipping down the sidewalk and street before rounding the block. He paused to right a sign that had toppled over.

“Doughnuts are serious business, Wally,” Bart insisted, but shoved the rest of it in his mouth anyway. Monday mornings were home to Wally and Bart’s Breakfast On Patrol. They usually liked to do a quick sweep of Keystone at super-speed, to make sure nothing was horribly wrong. It was their version of quality time. 

It was a quiet morning. Quiet enough that Wally had a second to sprint backwards, streaking through the city back to his house. He glanced through the kitchen window, saw Linda with the two kids in their highchairs, and breathed a sigh of relief. Then he bolted back as quick as he could.

“What was that all about?” Bart asked curiously, when Wally caught back up to him. 

“Nothing. Just making sure Linda and the kids didn’t need anything.”

“After two minutes?” Bart scoffed, then broke off to duck over onto the left sidewalk for a second.

“Hey, mind your business. What was—”

Bart raced back, falling into step. “Guy about to fall off his ladder. Helped him out.”

“Well, that was nice of you. I guess if that’s the most excitement we see, it’ll be a good thing.”

They ran in silence for a bit, covering half the map of Keystone. It felt like minutes to them, but it was mere seconds to the outside world. Just one more , Wally thought, and ran back to the house.

Bart was raising two eyebrows at him when he made it back. “Twice already, Wally?” he asked. “Tsk, tsk.”

“Hey, when you have infants to look after, you’ll—”

“I was just joking , you geezer.” He rolled his eyes to the heavens. “But— y’know—”

“What?”

“I’m just saying, if you need a break, or to step down for a little bit. I could pick up your slack. It wouldn’t be a big deal. Like, you know. Superhero paternity leave.”

Wally laughed, skirting around a mailbox. “Ha. No, no, no, no, I’m fine, Bart. But thanks. You on the other hand—”

“Whaaaaat,” Bart whined, weaving in and out of traffic. 

“You haven’t been anywhere to be found lately,” Wally said, holding up a finger. “This is the first breakfast I’ve managed to drag you to all month. I mean...  I don’t see you on patrol, you don’t come over to the house to play video games with Linda or hold my adorable babies—”

“I’ve been busy,” Bart groaned. “I don’t have to be available to you twenty-four-seven, old man.”

“Busy with what?”

“The Titans,” Bart said stubbornly.

“You’ve been with the Titans for ages, and that’s never stopped you from playing video games with Linda.”

“What do you want from me,” Bart sighed, swerving around a roving group of pedestrians. 

“Just to know why you’ve been avoiding me like the plague is all. I think that’s a reasonable request. Ah, crud, we’re at the end of the line.”

They both came rocketing to a stop at the very outskirts of Keystone, knee-deep in a cornfield that seemed to go on for miles into the distance.

Bart looked at him, raising an eyebrow. “Crud?”

“Hey, I’m practicing. For when they can comprehend language.”

Bart’s face looked pinched, all of a sudden. He ambled a few steps away, kicking up soil.

“Bart?” Wally asked, giving him a quizzical look.

“You have two little babies now.” Bart’s shoes scuffed at the ground. He did not look at Wally. “You don’t gotta worry about me.”

Wally blinked. This was not what he had been expecting. “What?” he asked.

“You and Linda are busy, obviously. It’s fine. I’ve just been trying to...  you know. Stay out of the way.”

Wally looked after him, baffled. “You’re family, Bart,” he said, somewhat at a loss. “You don’t have to stay away. That’s dumb.”

“Yeah, well,” Bart mumbled. He crossed his arms. “You asked.”

This was... hm. Bart Allen never had trouble barging in on anything, no matter how ill-advised. Wally shook his head, looking out at the rows of corn. Something told him this wasn’t the whole story.

“Is there, um,” Wally said awkwardly. “A different reason?”

Bart glanced over at him, yellow eyes piercing. He was quiet for a minute.

“You know... I wasn’t a baby for very long,” he said. 

Wally swallowed. “Yeah.”

“I don’t remember it,” Bart said, looking up at the sky. “I mean... well, duh, no one remembers being a baby. But I don’t remember being a little kid at all. It just... happened so fast. Like none of it was even real.”

Wally was definitely not equipped to deal with this. He rubbed a hand on the back of his neck, pursing his lips. “Yeah,” he said lamely.

“So I dunno,” Bart continued. “Sometimes seeing babies is— It’s strange. Like something I don’t understand. Something that doesn’t belong to me.”

Wally took a long, deep breath in. He stepped towards Bart, nudging their shoulders against each other. 

“You know,” he said. “I don’t know if I’ve said this. But my babies are really cute.”

Bart looked over at him, giving him a reproachful look. “Wally.”

“Hey, I’m just saying. And if you wanted to maybe come over and hold them sometimes. I’m sure Linda would appreciate the break. And, you know. Maybe holding my babies for a little bit could... help you learn a little about what you missed out on. Maybe you weren’t little for very long, and maybe you don’t have all the baby pictures and toys and memories that most people do. But you were a baby. You were born, just like all the rest of us.”

Bart exhaled. He reached out to fiddle with a stalk of corn.

“I don’t know if it’ll help,” he said. “But... I could try. I guess. Anything for Linda, right?”

Wally grinned. “Exactly right.”

***

The house had become a whirlwind of baby paraphernalia. Diapers and blankets and pacifiers and toys were strewn about the place, like a tornado had come through. The two of them had been sorely unprepared when the babies came, and had mostly relied on friends and family to come dropping off shipments of essentials. They were far more disorganized than most parents. More disorganized than they should have been, but well, they hadn’t known the babies were coming at all, had they? 

Wally kicked idly at a pile of stuffed animals that rested on the floor near his foot. He was huddled on the end of their living room couch, Jai nestled against his chest. It was somewhere around three in the morning. His son had woken him a half hour ago with truly pathetic-sounding cries from his bassinet, and Wally had walked him in circles around the first floor for a while. He was sleeping soundly now, little chest rising and falling with even breaths. 

He needed to go back upstairs and put him back down to bed. He really needed to.

Instead, Wally just gazed down at the sleeping infant in his arms. His sleeping infant. Jai’s head was covered with a mop of thin dark curls, which he inherited directly from his mama. Irey, poor kid, had been completely bald when she was born. Every nurse in the hospital had swooned over Jai’s hair, smoothing it down and kissing it and swearing he was the sweetest baby they had ever seen. Wally had felt a bit bad that he was getting all the attention over his sister, but she made up for it by crying and screaming and laughing and being as loud as she possibly could. His babies, his twins, his miracles.

The first week home from the hospital Wally had held them as much as possible. Sometimes he had one cradled in each arm, leaning down to kiss the top of one head and then the other. He liked having them close. He got a little antsy when anyone else besides Linda was holding them, but anything was better than them not being held. When Linda wearily asked why his hands started shaking when they laid the twins out on a blanket, he just shrugged. Babies liked being held. He wanted to do the best job he could. After all, it wasn’t like he had very good role models to follow.

Once, many years ago a shy and feeble eight-year-old Wally had softly asked Were you there when I was born? 

Iris had squeezed his shoulder and said Of course I was, sweetie, I wouldn’t have missed it. And then, quietly, a few moments of silence later: I was one of the first people to hold you. I held you for hours, actually, I was in the hospital room all day.

Wally had beamed. Iris smiled back. They both studiously ignored the implication that rested in this statement. If you were holding me all day, that means my parents weren’t.

Wally cradled the back of Jai’s little head with his big hand. He needed to get both of them back to bed. But for some reason he just couldn’t bring himself to move. In a way, this was the most peace he’d ever felt in his life. It was certainly the longest he’d ever sat still. Usually all it took was a few seconds for his skin to start itching to move and shake and run. But he could do it, when he was holding his babies, when he was looking down at their little faces. He could handle that stillness. Nowadays he was only anxious when they weren’t in his arms.

“Wally?”

He blinked. He hadn’t even noticed the sound of Linda’s footsteps coming down the stairs. She peeked her head into the living room, walking inside when she saw him.

“What’s up?” she whispered, stepping over to the back of the couch.

“Nothing at all,” Wally reassured, bouncing Jai gently against his chest. “He was crying, so I took him down here. But he’s out now.”

“Ah,” Linda said. She leaned over, smiling down at Jai’s sleeping face. “Let’s get you both to bed then, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Wally echoed. “Yep, I’m headed that way.” 

Linda squeezed his forearm and then left the living room, retreating back upstairs. Wally swallowed. It took him far too long to gather the strength to stand and lay Jai back in his bassinet.

***

Linda’s parents were great. Honestly, really, really great. They were thrilled to be grandparents, and came over several times a week to watch the twins when they needed a break. They were great. Wally had never really felt that much in common with accountants, and they had not always had the highest opinion of him, but they were good people and they loved Linda and the babies and they were really great.

“I don’t know what I’d do without my mom,” Linda had said through a yawn, one very late and stressful night. “I just always feel like I’m doing the complete wrong thing, but I can call her and ask and she’ll tell me I’m not crazy. Like, no, Lin, I had the same worries with you and here’s how I fixed them. Just take a deep breath . In a weird way it feels like I get her better than I ever have before.”

 Wally had listened and nodded and kissed her forehead and said “That’s awesome, hon.” He hid the way his skin was crawling.

It was a Monday afternoon. Linda was in the nursery trying and failing to calm down a screaming Irey. They had switched off trying for twenty minutes now, but their daughter had lungs of steel and a whole lot to say.

Wally had retreated to the bathroom for a minute. He splashed his face with water, staring at his own bloodshot eyes in the mirror. Maybe he was the most ill-suited father on the planet, because he couldn’t stand it when they cried. He just couldn’t take it. He needed to fix whatever was wrong. He hated the idea that they were hurting or upset and he didn’t know why.

Over a minute ago, Wally had dug his cell phone out of his pocket and set it out on the bathroom counter. He hadn’t touched it yet.

But I can call her and ask and she’ll tell me I’m not crazy. 

Wally stared at the phone. He reached for it, turned it on, navigated to what he needed.

Just do it, he groaned inwardly. Stop being a complete baby.

He paused, sighed, and pressed his thumb against the contact named Mary W . He tentatively held the now-ringing phone against his ear.

“Wallace, is that you? Is everything alright?”

Her voice felt like little pinpricks against his skull, immediately. He couldn’t help but wince.

“Fine,” Wally said. One clipped syllable. He pinched the bridge of his nose with two fingers.

“Well, okay,” Mary responded. “Then what do you—"

“Mom, how did you get me to stop crying when I was a baby?” He asked it all in a single breath, the words coming out of him in one big jumble.

“Oh.” She thought for a minute. “Oh, well, that’s easy.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes. I just left you in your crib.”

There was a moment, where Wally pictured vividly in his head the nursery next door. He reminded himself quite vociferously that the twins were fine and with Linda and nothing was wrong and if something was wrong then he could be there in an instant, a nanosecond, he could be there five seconds ago, he could be there yesterday . They were fine. They were fine.

He leaned over the counter, pressing the phone closer to his ear. “You just... left me in the crib?” he asked softly into the receiver.

“It’s what all the magazines said,” Mary answered, matter-of-factly. “You let them cry it out, you know. It’s good parenting. It teaches them that— well, it teaches them.”

“Mmm,” Wally said, neutrally. He was blinking at himself in the mirror, watching little beads of sweat form on his brow.

“You were such a loud baby, you know,” Mary mused, almost like she was talking to herself. “Always howling, always screaming. Even when you were fine. It’s how I decided I never wanted a second one. I just couldn’t take it, I couldn’t. All the screaming.”

“The screaming,” Wally echoed blankly.

“But it really worked,” she said, and something in her voice was reticent, firm. Like she knew she maybe shouldn’t be saying it, that it was wrong of her, but it was so long ago and she had done it and she wouldn’t apologize. “It only took a few months, maybe. You’d cry and I’d leave you be and eventually you grew out of it. You just didn’t cry anymore, or hardly ever. People asked me all the time. ‘Mary, how do you get your son to stay so quiet?’ And I’d tell them, well, just some tough love, and a little bit of help from Dear Abby. You should try it, you know. Are the twins being loud? Just let them get it out of their system. They’ll learn.”

Wally was gripping the edge of the sink loosely with his left hand. He couldn’t quite look at himself anymore. He stared down at the bowl of the sink instead. 

“Okay, Ma,” he said.

It was quiet for a second.

“Wally,” Mary said, a bit hesitant. “You should call me more, hon. I could help. With your b—"

“Have a good day, Ma,” Wally interrupted loudly, and hung up.

***

Linda sighed from the nursery. “I know, sweetheart,” she murmured to the screaming bundle in her arms. She was walking in circles around the small room, bouncing Irey lightly against her chest. Wally had stepped out to take a breather and splash some water in his face.

“There isn’t anything actually wrong with you,” Linda said, in what she hoped was a reassuring voice. “Just so you know. It’s okay to just be upset, but physically you are completely fine, so. Don’t worry.”

Irey continued to wail. 

Linda grimaced. She was not very good at baby talk. This was one thing Wally excelled at; he loved playing with them, getting down on the floor, gripping their little fists, babbling at them in their own language and making them laugh. Linda felt like she never knew what to say. She was just... awkward. 

This made sense, she thought, when you considered that she had never really been around babies or small children much. Only child, no cousins she was close to, no friends with kids of their own. It was logical that she didn’t immediately know the perfect way to— and, well, now she was just making excuses. Right. Mom of the year.

“I used to think I’d never have kids,” Linda found herself saying to Irey. She paused, acknowledging that this was a crazy thing to say to her daughter, then reminded herself that Irey couldn’t yet comprehend language. “Isn’t that funny? I used to be so against it.”

This, miraculously, seemed to quiet Irey down. The sobs ceased, backing down to mewling whimpering noises. Linda laughed to herself, shifting Irey in her arms and settling down into the nursery’s rocking chair. Kids liked listening to the sound of their parent’s voices. Right.

“It’s a silly thing to say,” Linda continued, one hand rubbing Irey’s back, “But it’s true. I never thought I’d have time. I thought... well, I was so busy with work. I couldn’t imagine anything being more important than that. And I never thought I’d trust someone enough to raise a baby with them.”

Irey squirmed in her arms, making spluttering noises. Linda hummed, adjusting her head to rest in Linda’s elbow so she could actually see her baby’s face. 

“I got proven wrong on that one, didn’t I,” Linda said, leaning down to kiss Irey’s forehead. “Proven very wrong.” 

The first gift Wally had given her had been his stupid, infuriating smile that lit her on fire. The most important gift had been a family. His family. His big, eclectic family, full of funny and kind and infuriating people, who accepted her into their lives without a second thought and loved her for exactly who she was. This was something she had never had before. Something that was almost too good to be true.

“Stupid kid,” she said fondly, staring up at the ceiling. The stupidest kid she’d ever met. Wally, twenty-one, with bright red hair and that goofy smile and the incurable condition of being a complete asshole. In other words, her perfect match. 

Irey breathed rapidly, in and out, and then started to cry again. 

“Oh, shh, shh,” Linda said, cursing inwardly. So close. 

“There was another reason,” she continued, just to say something. In the spirit of transparency, and everything. Even babies deserved the truth. 

“I never thought I’d be a very good mother,” she admitted, hugging Irey to her chest. “Shh, baby, I know. It’s just that I’ve never been maternal . I was always too loud. Too angry. I decided when I was in fourth grade that I was never going to tolerate anyone who didn’t like me exactly as I was, which meant I did a lot of glaring and a bit of hissing and I think all the other kids were too scared to talk to me even if they wanted to. I pushed people away on instinct, because I thought no one would ever like me if they did get close.” 

Irey cried, interrupted only by little hiccups. Linda reached for a tissue from the changing table next to her, wiping the tears from her baby’s cheeks. 

“I just wanted to say,” she whispered, kissing the top of Irey’s head, “That I want you to always be loud. You’re not like your brother, and that’s fine. Keep crying if you want to cry. Don’t ever tell yourself to be quiet. And— and people will love you. For you. So don’t worry like I worried. Okay?”

Irey, who finally seemed to have tired herself out, fell quiet except for periodic hiccups. 

“Thanks for listening,” Linda smirked, kissing the top of her head again. Her baby, who cried like the world was ending, who always made herself known. 

You’re going to be special, she thought. I’m so glad I get to be your mother. I wouldn’t let anyone else do it. 

And she had two of them. Wasn’t she the luckiest person on the planet?

***

Wally awoke with a jolt, a strangled gasp halfway through his lips. His brain ran through the usual dance routine. The dream was over, Linda was sleeping next to him, the baby monitors showed the kids were safe down the hall in the nursery. Everything was fine. He was still shaking so violently he could barely see. 

He had always had nightmares. Of course he had. Every superhero did. He hadn’t realized just how much worse they would become after having kids.

Wally sucked in a breath. His heart was thudding desperately against his ribcage. His skin felt hot, like he had a fever, and there was sweat beading on his brow and his mouth was dry and his veins were shot through with fire. He itched all over. All he could do was run.

So he did.

He hadn’t done this in years. But he stepped out of bed, went down the stairs to the first floor, opened the front door and shot off like a rocket into the night. Sometimes when you couldn’t sleep the only thing you could do to cool your nerves was run like you were trying to burn your cells off.

He did, for a while. Wally didn’t know where he went or how many times he ran in circles. Eventually he tired himself out, and came to a halt on the sands of a beach somewhere. He had no idea where he was, or even which ocean he was looking at. It was the dead of night still. The place was completely deserted.

He sat down on the cool sand, pulling his knees up in front of him.

You’re being stupid, Wally, he chastised himself. Since when do you let bad dreams bother you?

Trick question. Since always.

This one had been a strange combination of a stress dream and childhood memory. He’d found himself thrown into prison, just a teenager again, and no matter how hard he screamed no one came to get him. He was behind those bars forever. He never got to meet Linda and he never had his kids and he was stuck, he was just stuck, all because no one had cared enough to come bail him out. 

Wally pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and stared at it for a minute. He reconsidered, briefly, seeing as it was the middle of the night; but he punched in the number anyway.

“Wally?” Donna answered, just a few rings later. “Everything okay?”

He smiled a little at the sound of her voice. “Yeah, yeah, it’s fine. Sorry to call you so late. Or— er— so early. I just... I guess I just wanted to ask you something.”

“Mm, okay. Shoot.”

Wally took a long, laborious breath in.

“Do you remember when we were thirteen, and— and we went to the movies, but we almost got arrested because Roy kept trying to climb onto the roof?”

“Of course I remember that,” Donna responded gently. She seemed to realize there was more to this, and said nothing further.

Wally swallowed. “Do you remember what I said?”

A pause. He could hear Donna breathing in.

“Yes,” she said.

“What was it?”

“Well... you were twice as antsy as the rest of us. You didn’t think it was a joke. You kept saying you couldn't get arrested because your parents couldn’t afford to bail you out.”

“I did say that,” Wally mumbled, rubbing a hand over his face. He sighed. 

It was quiet for a minute.

“I never really understood that,” Donna said carefully. “It’s not like... I mean, Barry and Iris would never have left you there.”

“Yeah,” Wally said. “Well. I lied.”

Donna swallowed. “I figured.”

He’d forgotten about that night, but it had come back to him now. He remembered snapping at Roy, yelling even, begging him to get his stupid ass off the fire escape and stop trying to climb the roof before the theater attendant came back and they got into real trouble. Roy had called him a killjoy, but had eventually complied. When Wally said My parents wouldn’t be able to afford bail what he meant was My parents wouldn’t care enough to bail me out of jail, but of course he’d rather jump off that fire escape himself into oncoming traffic than say it out loud. 

The other, deeper truth was Maybe this will be the thing that finally drives him to kill me. What would his dad do, if Wally ended up in prison? If he was forced to bail Wally out? He certainly wouldn’t be happy. Wally could picture how that conversation would go all too well, and there was no universe in which it wasn’t ugly. Maybe having a delinquent for a son would be one step too far. Either he’d kill Wally or leave him to rot, and he wasn’t entirely sure which was worse. 

Wally shuddered at this unwelcome return to his teenage self’s psyche. What will Dad do wasn’t a thought he’d had to entertain for a long, long time. 

“It wasn’t about money,” Wally continued, grabbing at tufts of hair with one hand while he stared down at the white sand of the beach. “It wasn’t... it wasn’t about the money.” 

Donna sighed. “I know,” she said.

Silence. Wally listened to the rhythmic crash of the waves onto the shore.

“Wally,” Donna said, more lighthearted. “If you were that worried about getting arrested, you could have just. You know. Run.”

He laughed, a little. “Well, then that would just make me a bad friend.”

Donna chuckled. “Not if you broke us out later.”

 “It’s, you know, it’s the principle of the thing. Or something like that.”

“Mhmm.”

Why was I scared my dad would kill me, Wally thought to himself. Why was that something I was scared of?

“Thanks, Donna,” he whispered into the receiver. He tried to think of answers to her inevitable For what? For picking up. For talking to him. For reminding him he wasn’t crazy.

But she didn’t ask. “Of course,” was all she said. “Call me anytime. Always call me.”

“Yeah,” Wally said. “Yeah.”

Quiet, for a minute. He could hear her try to stifle a yawn.

“Goodnight, fleetfeet,” Donna said. “Be safe.”

“Goodnight, Donna.” He hung up.

Wally shoved his phone back in his pocket. He stared out at the sea.

What will Dad do. That used to be a constant worry, a pulse beating dully in the back of his head.

Wally sighed. He laid all the way back, until he was covered in sand and all he could see were the stars above him.

***

“And the hedgehog couldn’t sleep all night, so excited for the hula-hoop contest— Linda, is this really the best literature available for babies?”

Linda laughed next to him. They were both on the living room couch, each holding a baby, while Wally displayed an open board book with his free hand. Everyone always said reading to babies was good for them. 

“They don’t care about the story at their age,” she chuckled. “Obviously.”

“Well, I care, and this story stinks. Why would a hedgehog care about a hula-hooping contest anyway? I mean, what happened to— to— the little geniuses, or whatever.”

“Little Einsteins?” Linda was practically cackling now. “That’s a TV show, babe, not a book series.”

“Ah. Well, what would I know about kid’s books. Anyways, the point is—"

At that moment the landline started ringing. Wally tossed the book onto the couch beside him, ignoring Linda’s continued laughter, and reached for the phone. 

“Hello?” he asked, pressing it to his ear. 

“Wally,” said the undeniable voice of Max Mercury, “Is everything alright?” 

Wally blinked. “Um,” he said tentatively. “Yes?”

“Are you certain?”

“I don’t know, Linda, is everything alright?” Wally glanced over to his wife, who was giving him a quizzical eyebrow raise. 

What? she mouthed, and he just shrugged. “Max wants to know.”

“Everything’s fine,” Linda said warily, loud enough to be picked up by the phone’s speakers. “Everything better be fine. Right, Max?”

“Hm,” was Max’s only reply. There was a brief pause, before he said simply, “Alright. Disregard.” The phone beeped unceremoniously.

Wally stared down at it, partly in disbelief. “Uh... ”

“What the hell was that all about?” Linda asked wonderingly.

“Beats me. Maybe the old man’s finally off his rocker.”

Linda pursed her lips thoughtfully. “Maybe he foresaw our deaths or something.”

“If he had foreseen our deaths, you’d think he’d at least come and see us in person.”

Linda tapped a finger on her chin, quirking an eyebrow.

Wally snorted. “What, what is it?”

“I’m just saying. You really never know with Max.”

Wally gasped dramatically. “Whoa. You would say this about our esteemed friend and crime-fighting partner Maxwell Mercury—"

“Maxwell?” Linda laughed, shifting Jai in her arms. “Oh, he might come running if he heard you calling him Maxwell .”

“He might come running after hearing your slander!”

“Mm. Maybe this was all a long game to get us to invite him over for dinner.”

Wally chuckled. “We invite him over for dinner all the time. He never comes!”

“Yeah,” Linda mused. “‘Cuz he’s an old bitch.”

“He’s actually not that old, in the grand scheme of things,” Wally said studiously.

“Then he’s just a bitch.”

Wally laughed weakly. At this point his eyes were watery.

“Your mama has a mean streak,” he said, nestling Irey tighter against his chest. “Did you know that, sweetheart? I married a hateful, paranoid woman.”

“Your daddy loves my hateful and paranoid nature,” Linda whispered to Jai.

This was true.

“Lies and deceptions!” Wally proclaimed, falling dramatically onto Linda’s shoulder. She reached up to pat at his cheek with the hand that wasn’t busy holding Jai. 

“Quit stalling, dear,” Linda said sweetly. Wally sighed, sat up, and reached for the book.

***

It was a Wednesday afternoon. Linda was out in town for a rare few minutes to herself, Wally had just put both kids successfully down for a nap, and the house was truly quiet for the first time in far too long. Wally tromped down the stairs, yawning into his hand. 

He walked into his kitchen doorway, and froze.

Max Mercury was sitting at his kitchen table. He had a saucer and knife out in front of him, layering Wally’s spreadable cheese over a pile of Wally’s Ritz crackers one by one. 

He sighed, entered the kitchen, and fell into the chair opposite Max. “Nice people usually knock, y’know,” he said, but it was halfhearted. Barely anyone in this family knocked anymore.

“Apologies,” Max said, in the least apologetic tone Wally had ever heard.

“Are you here because of that phone call from yesterday? Because that was just cruel, Max, saying something so ominous and then hanging up.”

“Yes.” There was a brief pause while he ate a cheese-covered cracker. “I wanted to talk to you alone, without Linda.”

Something in this made Wally’s blood freeze over. “Um,” he said uncomfortably. “Why?”

Max grimaced. “So you could retain a bit of dignity,” he answered.

Wally scoffed. “Now that the hell does my dignity have to do with—"

“Something’s wrong with the Speed Force,” Max said impatiently. “Relatedly, something’s wrong with you .”

Wally blinked slowly. “Explain,” he demanded.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t felt it,” Max said unhelpfully. “It’s taken me days to figure out the source, but you can’t have missed it. There’s been an anomaly— quite a noticeable one— and it’s because for some time now you’ve been an active conduit for the Speed Force.”

Wally rubbed at his chin. Hm. “Max,” he said carefully, “We’re all conduits of the Speed Force. That’s, like, the whole deal.”

Max sighed. Wally felt that this sigh was unnecessarily condescending.

“We’re all conduits,” he explained, holding out a hand. “But it’s usually passive. We only interact with the Speed Force when we choose to draw on it. And it’s always us, pulling bits of Speed Force energy into our bodies, to use as... fuel, sort of.”

Wally nodded along. This sounded close enough to comprehensible.

“Right now,” Max continued, “You have Speed Force energy inside you .”

Hm.

Wally grimaced. “And that’s... not supposed to be happening?”

“Right in one,” Max said drily. “Wally, the thing is, you’re not reaching for it at all. It’s like... the Speed Force is reaching back for you . Like it’s... bleeding into you, straight into your veins.”

It was like Wally’s mind fractured, into several different pieces, all spinning in different directions and absolutely none of them working properly.

“And frankly,” Max added, “I’m disappointed that you didn’t come to me or Jay when you noticed something was wrong.”

“You’re— hang on,” Wally protested a bit mulishly, holding up a hand. “I never noticed anything was wrong! Nothing’s wrong!”

Max gave him a hard look. “Don’t be obtuse, Wally.”

“Then stop being fucking cryptic!”

“I explained everything in perfectly clear terms,” Max said stubbornly. “Wally, if you can’t feel the Speed Force in you right now, then we’ve got bigger fucking problems.”

Wally searched his face, completely at a loss. “You’re serious?”

“I can see it in you right now,” Max insisted. “Radiating out of you, like you’re on fire .”

“But I’m not running,” Wally said dumbly. “I’m not going fast or— or anything.”

“That’s the interesting part,” Max said. He paused. He stared at Wally. He ate a cracker.

“You’re a complete fucking nightmare,” Wally mumbled.

There was a moment of quiet. Max stared at him like he was trying to glean the secrets of the universe.

“Wally,” Max said in a strange tone. “How have you been doing lately?”

Now this was just cruel.

“ Fine ,” he said curtly.

Max raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “And if I asked Linda, would she say the same thing?”

“ Yes !” It was probably the truth, anyway.

Max just looked at him, expression scrutinizing, almost pitying , and it made Wally’s heart thud noisily against his chest.

“You’re not really renowned for your honesty, Wally, but can you honestly look at me right now and say you’re alright?”

This was too far. This was crossing a line. Wally could feel anger burning and sizzling inside him.

“You’re really going to sit over there and call me a liar?” he asked, not quite believing what was happening. 

Max gritted his teeth. “Well, if you’re not going to be truthful with me about the Speed Force, then reason do I have to believe you’ll be truthful about—"

“You still think I’m hiding some Speed Force connection,” Wally said in disbelief. “And you think I’m lying about it!”

“Well, what am I supposed to think?” Max shot back, raising his voice for the first time. “I refuse to believe that you cannot feel that damn cyclone inside of you.”

“Well, I—"

“Use your head for once! Do you know what could happen if this came exploding out of you? If you were near other people, especially non-speedsters?”

“I’m not dangerous!” Wally insisted, near screaming, because this made every inch of his skin feel like it really was on fire. 

“How good is your control of the Speed Force? How precise? Could you stop it from hurting anyone if it leaked out of you?”

“Why are you interrogating me?” Wally cried, and he couldn’t stop feeling dizzy, and his eyes couldn’t quite focus on one thing. “Why are you talking to me like I’m five , you have no right to be doing this, you just came— came barging in, and you’re—"

“Wally.” Max seemed very far away.

Wally stood from his chair and stumbled back a few inches, breaking away from the table and pacing anxiously around the kitchen. He felt like he had to put distance between himself and Max Mercury, who could see fucking everything , always.

“I don’t know why you’re doing this,” he murmured, his voice quieter than he’d meant it to be.

“Wally... ” His name sounded strange. Like Max had forgotten they were supposed to be arguing.

“He’s saying I’m dangerous,” he said, almost to himself. The dizziness turned his pacing sluggish and meandering. “Why would I be dangerous…”

“Wally,” Max interrupted sharply, and Wally froze. This was unambiguously a command. “I need you to pay attention and listen to my voice and to what I am saying. Because I’m not certain you’re fully conscious right now.”

“What?” he asked, almost woozy. “Of course I’m conscious, what kind of question is—"

“What was the last thing you said?”

Wally’s brain swam. He felt vaguely nauseous. “Well, I was yelling at you.”

“So what were the words you said?”

“I— I— I don’t know, it doesn’t matter!”

“Wallace,” Max commanded sharply. “This is important.”

“Don’t call me that,” Wally snapped, tugging roughly at his hair, “Don’t fucking— call me that.”

“What?”

“Wallace. I fucking hate Wallace .” The only thing worse than Wallace was Wallace Rudolph , which was just obscene. Wallace meant he was nine again, and his mom was screeching at him from the other room. Wallace meant that stupid house and that stupid street and his stupid life, meant the certainty that nothing would ever change. It will feel like this forever .

And... and... why the fuck was he thinking about that right now?

Max was looking at him like he might explode any minute. Wally noticed, absurdly, that all of his cheese-covered crackers were gone.

Old bitch, he thought wryly, because wasn’t Linda always right. 

Suddenly he didn’t feel so nauseous. Everything cleared up.

Wally collapsed back into the kitchen chair, head falling into his waiting hands. “Shit, I don’t even know what I’m saying,” he rambled. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright, son,” Max said carefully, and Wally knew it was bad because Max only ever used son on very rare occasions.

“I don’t think I’ve slept in a week,” he mumbled. “The kids... I mean, I’ve never been so stressed. Like all my synapses are firing at once. I don’t— I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Wally glanced up, peeking at Max’s weary face. And he did look tired . And knowing, like it always was, like he was burdened with knowledge that none of the rest of the world could comprehend. He certainly knew more than Wally did. About everything, sure, but definitely about whatever the hell was going on right now.

“Kids will do that to you,” Max said, in a tone that was probably meant to sound sympathetic.

Wally stared at him for a second. The old man’s face refused to give anything away.

“Max,” he said. “What the fuck is happening to me?”

Max gave him a look that was almost kind.

“You’re fine,” he said, not very reassuring. “Don’t think too much about it. I’m going to... I’ll get back to you in a few days.”

“What?”

“I’m going to do some research.” This probably meant whatever freaky meditation he liked to do. “Wally... talk to someone, would you? I’ll feel it if something really bad happens, but... do me a favor and calm down. Talk to someone, about whatever’s got you wound up tighter than a spring.”

“And that’s it?” Wally asked faintly. “I thought you were all... you know... worried I was going to explode?”

“Not anymore. Like I said, I’ll reach out in a few days once I know more.”

This was wonderfully cryptic, as always. 

Max squeezed his shoulder lightly on the way out. Actually squeezed his shoulder.

“Oh my god,” Wally said to himself, “I’m going to die .”

***

“There’s someone here to see you,” Joan had murmured while she passed him on the stairs, and when Jay stepped onto the first floor there was an angry-looking Linda Park at his kitchen table.

Well, not angry, maybe, but frustrated. She was leaned all the way back, arms crossed tightly in front of her, looking like she wanted to beat some sense into the whole world.

“Morning,” Jay said, wandering over to the cabinet to grab a coffee mug. “What can I do for you?”

She grimaced, and took a deep breath in. “I need your help,” she said, like it was painful.

“Shoot,” Jay said, reaching for the coffee pot Joan had made earlier and watching the liquid pour into his mug. “Helping’s what we do around here.”

Linda was quiet. She waited until he had replaced the coffee pot, wandered over to the kitchen table, and sat down across from her before saying anything.

She stared at him. “He won’t talk to me, Jay.”

“Hm? Who?”

“You know who ,” she said, rolling her eyes. “He won’t talk to me. He’s stressed all the time, halfway panicked, like he can’t even see what’s right in front of his face.”

Jay set the mug down on the table in front of him. “Linda,” he said gently. “The man’s a new father. A little panic is expected.”

“Don’t— don’t do that,” she groaned, scrubbing at her forehead. “Don’t grandpa me, okay, I know what I’m talking about. This isn’t new baby jitters. It’s something— deeper.”

“How can you tell?” he asked evenly. Maybe what you need is some grandparenting right about now, he thought wryly to himself.

“It’s like he’s sick or something,” she said, a bit more hesitantly. “Like he’s running a fever. He’s always a little too warm. And he keeps shaking . Sometimes I can’t tell if he’s using the Speed Force or not, it’s like he can’t make it stop, like he’s just vibrating in place all the time. He’s distracted. He won’t tell me what’s wrong. And it’s scaring the shit out of me.”

“That sounds frightening,” Jay decided on. It would probably not be a good idea to scare her right now, especially if it turned out to be nothing. “Hm... maybe I could go and talk to him this week, or send Max. We’ll figure out if anything’s wrong with him.”

Linda looked pained. “Jay, if he’s not talking to me, then—"

“Then he probably won’t have anything to say to an old man, either,” Jay conceded, holding up his hands. “You’re right. But we can try, and if nothing else we’ll be able to tell if there’s something up with the Speed Force.”

He studied her face. She seemed to play with this idea for a minute, and then nodded. 

Jay also noted the blotches under Linda’s eyes. Twins’d do that to you, for sure.

“Linda,” he said gently. “Why don’t you bring the kiddos over here in the next few days. For however long you like. Joan and I would take good care of them.”

She looked at him skeptically. “You’re saying... ”

“I’m saying you could use a break, you and Wally both. And a chance to talk.”

Linda furrowed her brow, pondering this, and eventually sighed. “Jay,” she said gratefully. “That would be a lifesaver.”

“It’s no problem at all,” he insisted. “Whenever you want. You know us retirees don’t have anything better to do.”

“I wouldn’t call a full time JSA member a retiree,” Linda quipped. “But I’ll take your word for it.”

***

Wally sat cross-legged on the edge of the picnic blanket, staring absently out at the scenery of the park. The grassy area he was in was right next to the basketball court, where a couple of teenagers were attempting to instruct a kid who looked about four years old how to shoot the ball. Wally chuckled. He looked down at his watch once, then twice, and then there was a yellow streak of lightning bounding towards him. 

“You’re late,” Wally said, wagging a finger back and forth.

Jesse flipped him off. “You should be glad I came at all, Wallace West. Work’s been insane today, I almost had to give up my lunch hour.”

“Really? And I thought all those times you blew us off because of ‘work’ were just because you were too scared to try my cooking.”

She flipped him off again, with much enthusiasm. Predictable.

“Anyway. Oh wow, you brought lunch and everything?” Jesse asked, smoothing back her windblown hair.  “I almost stopped by a fast food joint on the way here for a burger.” 

Wally raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t I tell you I was bringing lunch?”

“Well, yes, but—"

“I’m ordinarily not very thoughtful, responsible, reliable, or trustworthy?” Wally asked wryly.

“Hey, you said it, not me.” Jesse grinned. “God, I’m famished. Toss me a sandwich.”

They ate. They made inane conversation. Wally tried to jump in where he could, but it usually wasn’t even necessary. Jesse was a talker like him, especially when it came to complaining about work. Or Rick. Or the general state of things.

“Wally,” Jesse said curiously, when she had finished off the last of the lemonade he had brought. “Are you dying?”

He choked on his sandwich. “What?”

“You’ve barely said two words this whole time. Normally whenever we talk we end up shouting over each other after thirty seconds. Plus you look like shit, and you never ask me to get lunch with you without Linda.”

It actually made him smile. Trust Jesse to tell it to you straight. 

“I’m not dying,” he assured. “Just... wanted to talk about something.”

“Ooh. That sounds serious. Let me guess: you realized you made a monumental mistake and are ready to name me as godmother of at least one of the twins.”

It startled a laugh out of him. “Jesse, you don’t even like kids!”

“That’s mostly irrelevant.”

“Mm. Well. Dead wrong, I’m afraid.”

There was a brief pause. Jesse raised two eyebrows.

“Okay. Well. I’m all out of jokes, Wal,” she said, spreading her hands. “Out with it.”

“Let me—" he broke off with a grimace. “Hm. I... ”

She grimaced. “Jesus, Wally, is it really that serious?”

“No, no, it’s— it’s just hard to say is all. Give me a sec.”

“Um. Well, okay.” Jesse rubbed her hands together, a little awkwardly. She stood up, paced a little bit away from the blanket, and turned to watch the kids playing on the playground.

Wally was, secretly, very grateful for this. He could gather his words now that he didn't have to look her in the eyes. Just say it, get it over with.

“You know,” Wally said, “My dad used to beat the shit out of me.”

It was quiet, for exactly four and a half seconds. Just long enough for him to panic.

“I didn’t know that, actually,” Jesse spoke up. She was looking out at the playground, not at him. Her voice was mercifully neutral, and even, and not the slightest bit shaken.

Wally swallowed. “Yeah. Um, nobody knows, actually. Or practically nobody.” Just him and Mary West, like always.

“Oh.” She glanced back over at him. “Why... why say something now, then?”

That was the real question. Wally cleared his throat.

“Max came to talk to me,” he said, stumbling over his words a little. “He said— I just— I don’t think I’m doing very well. I think it’s freaking me out, that I have— that I’m a dad now, and I’ve never— talked about it. You know.”

“That would make sense,” Jesse said thoughtfully. She thankfully did not comment on his awkwardness.

“I wanted to ask you something,” Wally said quickly, before he could chicken out. “And it’s kind of. Um. Stupid. But I wanted to ask anyway.”

She raised a curious eyebrow. “Um... if I would be willing to be godmother of both twins?” she asked lightly. “Yes, absolutely, I thought you’d never ask.”

He laughed weakly. “Jesse... ”

“Sorry, sorry. Habit. What did you want to ask?”

Wally picked at a loose thread on the corner of the picnic blanket. 

“Do you think it was selfish?” he asked.

Jesse frowned. “What?”

“To have kids. Even after... everything.”

Jesse snorted. “What, you think... you think because you had a bad childhood you should be barred forever from having kids?”

Wally’s mouth twisted. Maybe that’s not too far off, he didn’t say.

“Well, that’s not how it works,” Jesse said smartly. “Just because your dad was shitty doesn’t mean you’ll be.”

“It just feels like... ” Like I’m tainted forever. Like he’s still living inside of me somewhere.

“It doesn’t really matter what it feels like,” Jesse cut in with a nonchalant shrug. “It’s just... you know. Not true.”

He sighed. “Jesse—"

“I’m serious,” she insisted. “I mean, you don’t just wake up one morning like ‘oh no, suddenly I’ve transformed into my shitty dad.’ You...  make your own choices, you know. And look at me! Every morning I pray I don’t turn into my mom, and bam! Not one gray hair yet!”

Wally snorted. “I... okay. Okay. Yeah. I’ll take that.”

She gave him a thumbs up, which made him laugh again. It was quiet for a minute.

“Wally,” Jesse said eventually. A bit more hesitantly. “You said you’d never talked about this before.”

“Nope,” he said, popping the ‘p.’

“Not— not even to Linda? Or Jay?” she swallowed. “They... don’t know?”

“Um. Not as such, no.”

She turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow. “Why tell me, then?”

Wally’s hands tightened and untightened around each other. He stared down at the grass. “‘Cuz I knew you wouldn’t freak out on me,” he admitted.

She scuffed the heel of her shoe on the grass. “Ha,” she said. “Ha. Smart. And correct! Unlike those other poor mushy saps in this family.”

“Exactly.” 

“Can I... ”

“Hm?”

“Can I just. Say something. For the record and everything.”

“Um.” Wally shrugged, unsure of where this was going. “Sure?”

Jesse breathed in.

“You’re not gonna hit your kids, Wally,” she said, in that blunt, matter-of-fact way she had. Like it was obvious, complete truth, objective fact. “Barry taught you better than that. Besides, if you ever did anything bad, Linda would throw your ass to the curb immediately.”

Wally was silent. He stared expressionlessly out at the basketball court.

“Wally? Earth to Wally?” 

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. “Would you believe me if I said that’s exactly what I needed to hear?”

She smirked. “I’m just that good.”

“Don’t get too excited,” Wally protested, pointing a finger, playing it up to distance himself from that emotional mess. He stood, reaching down to grab the picnic basket and gathering up the blanket.

“Oh, like I give a shit about your opinion of me,” Jesse quipped, following his lead. “‘Sides. I don’t even like you.”

Because it was one of their jokes, and it was familiar, and it made Wally’s eyes crinkle. “That’s good, ‘cuz I don't like you either.”

Jesse grinned. And she surprised him, then, by stepping forward and wrapping two arms around his torso. Wally blinked before returning the embrace, dropping the blanket back onto the grass. When was the last time Jesse had hugged him? When Linda died?

“Walls,” she said, head against his chest, “I think you need to talk to Iris.”

“I wish you weren’t right all the time,” he mumbled into her hair.

She took a deep breath and leaned back, releasing him. “Okay, well,” she said cheerfully. “I’ve gotta get back to the office. You’ve distracted me long enough. Tell Linda the sandwiches were good.”

“Hey, I made the sandwiches!”

“Then tell Linda the sandwiches were bad. SEE YA, WALLY!” And without further ado, Jesse had disappeared in a streak of yellow lightning back towards the Quickstart building.

Wally laughed quietly to himself, reaching for the handle of the picnic basket. Some things never changed.

***

A day to themselves. That was the pitch Linda had brought to him earlier that week, and here it was: both babies were with the Garricks, and he and Linda were alone in the house. A day all to themselves. It would be good for them. Right.

There was a plan, even: have a relaxing morning, go out to lunch, together, just the two of them, and then spend the afternoon doing all the chores and cleaning that they didn’t usually have time for. It was good, and it was very, very gracious of the Garricks to offer. 

He was not with the babies. Linda was not with the babies. His babies were not in his house. 

Wally felt slightly cross-eyed.

Linda was upstairs in the shower. He was just sitting in the living room, failing at watching the news station that was on in the background. His fingers drummed against the arm of the couch incessantly. Just one more time wouldn’t hurt. Who would even notice?

Quick as he could, Wally stood and dashed out of the house through town. Onto the Garricks’ street, up their driveway, just up to the living room window— one little peek inside, to see the two of them safe and happy and fine— and then he was back, returning to the living room couch with a sigh.

“Wally!” Linda was calling from upstairs. 

“Yeah?”

“Didn’t you hear me shouting for you? I was going to ask if you wanted to go eat at that one Italian place!”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, sure.”

Linda came down the stairs a minute later, following him into the living room. Her damp curls were sticking to her forehead. God, she was beautiful.

“Are you alright?” she asked, perching on the arm of their recliner. “You look a little... pale.”

“I’m fine,” Wally insisted with a shrug. “I think exceedingly pale is pretty much the norm for me.”

“Ha, ha. That is true.” Linda stood and wandered through the room, disappearing into the kitchen. “Want anything for breakfast?”

“Uh, I ate already,” he said sheepishly.

“It’s fine. Not like I’ve ever been able to keep up with your appetite.”

He listened to the sounds of her shuffling in the kitchen, making herself breakfast. Wally’s leg bounced almost violently. He checked his watch, checked it again, checked it a third time, and then repeated his now-practiced routine. Off the couch, out the door, across town, see his babies, rush back. Easy. He could do it with his eyes closed.

This time when Wally rushed back into the house, Linda was standing in the middle of the living room with her hands on her hips.

Wally blinked. Oh. Oh no.

“What are you doing?” there was a serious edge to Linda’s voice that gave Wally pause. He swallowed.

“What do you mean?” he asked, carefully. As casually as he could.

Linda just looked at him, face slowly twisting into incredulity. “I’ve known you since you were twenty-one, Wally,” she said, almost accusatory. “You think I don’t know what the Speed Force looks like?”

His stomach dropped.

“I was... ” he gulped, unsure of anything he could say that wouldn’t sound crazy. “Sorry, I was just—"

“That was five times,” Linda snapped, raising a hand. “Five times, in less than thirty minutes! You want to tell me what the hell this is about?”

He was sweating, now, drops pouring down his back like it was a hundred degrees. “I was just checking on them,” he admitted, glancing down at the floor when Linda’s brown eyes became too sharp to look at directly. “I got nervous, I was just— just making sure they were fine. I know it’s stupid, I know, I’ll try and—"

“You can’t keep doing this,” Linda said, almost wonderingly. “This isn’t just— this isn’t normal. It’s been months now, and you keep lying to me about it!”

“I’m sorry.” No other words would form on his tongue. He had nothing else to say. 

Linda scoffed. She turned around, paced the length of the room and back, scrubbing a hand face over her face in frustration. “I thought you were sick,” she ranted as she paced, “I still think you might be sick, and you— Wally, we’re new parents, we’re supposed to be a team. You won’t fucking talk to me. You won’t even tell me the truth now . Do you realize how much you’re scaring me right now?”

“I’m not lying,” Wally protested quietly. He was just staring at the wall at the other end of the living room. He didn’t feel like he was present in his own body. 

This was enough to bring frustrated tears to Linda’s eyes. She walked closer to him, staring at his face. “You think I can’t tell when you’re hiding something from me?” she cried, a bit softer. “Wally, you’re running yourself ragged. You get hysterical when the twins aren’t in your eyeline. You’re not sleeping. You’re making yourself sick. What do you know that I don’t know?”

“Nothing,” Wally insisted, because it was true, it was true, it was . He dropped his head down, squeezed his eyes shut, shook his head back and forth and back and forth. “I’m not hiding anything, I swear, I’ve just been— I dunno— nervous, that something would happen to them—"

“They’re with Jay and Joan ,” Linda shouted. “They haven’t been there for an hour! If you can’t trust the Garricks with our babies, then how—"

“I don’t know ,” Wally said, almost pleading, stop asking me stop asking me please stop, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I just—"  

“Wally,” Linda said, almost desperately, searching his face for any kind of clue, “What are you so afraid of?”

His heart was beating too fast. Way too fast. He felt dizzy, like the room was spinning and tumbling around him.

“I’m sorry,” Wally said, through gasping breaths, “I don’t know, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I—"

“Wally?” Linda asked faintly. As if from very far away, Wally registered that the anger had dropped from her voice, replaced by concern. 

His skin was on fire. He could feel the pull of the Speed Force inside him, like ozone, lighting up every vein without him even trying to call on it. His hands were shaking so hard they were starting to blur at the edges. He was going to— oh, god, maybe he was going to explode, like Max said, right here in the middle of his living room, and take his whole house and Linda with him-

“I have to—" he said, panting, “I have to— to get out—" 

Linda reached out a hand to try and touch his face but he had already turned away from her and he was bounding out of the house, Speed Force guiding his legs like rocket fuel, propelling him down the street and through Keystone at a speed so high he couldn’t even register his surroundings.

He was moving on instinct and momentum alone. He had no idea what direction he was moving in or where he was going, right up until the moment he realized his feet had guided him to the place he always went to when he was scared.

Wally almost tumbled over himself as he stopped dead in the Garricks’ front yard. Whiplash hit his body like a thunderclap. He stumbled his way up the porch, thrust open the front door with his sweat-slicked right hand, and burst inside. 

Jay hurried into the foyer when he heard the noise.

“Wally?” he asked, reaching out to grasp Wally’s trembling shoulder, “Oh God, Wally, what’s the matter?”

Wally just shook, staring silently into Jay’s horrified eyes. And he dissolved into tears.

“I should never have had kids,” he sobbed, choking on his own saliva. “Fuck, fuck, I should never have— I should have— I—" And he ran out of words entirely, head crushed against Jay’s shoulder. 

Jay had wrapped two strong arms around him and held Wally against himself, tightly, like a vise. Wally’s whole body was convulsing. Jay said nothing, asked no questions, just held onto him and pressed his right hand against the back of Wally’s neck, holding his head against the space between his neck and his shoulder.

It took him almost thirty seconds to stop sobbing. It took him too late to realize that the only reason he had stopped was because he was suddenly very short of breath, and then he was lightheaded, and then his legs couldn’t quite hold him up anymore and then he was slipping and tumbling from Jay’s grasp onto the floor and then everything was dark.

***

Wally was lost. 

The hot, raging storm in his veins that he’d failed to suppress for weeks now was around him. He was swimming in it, like soup. He knew in an instant it was the Speed Force. Nothing else felt like that. It crackled, alive with energy, a swarm of lightning. He couldn’t quite feel his own body. He was just floating, unable to resist, unable to do anything at all.

It was like a shot of adrenaline straight to his heart when he heard her voice. He didn’t quite know how it was coming through, but his consciousness grabbed for it like a lifeline. 

“Wally.” The word was gentle but also firm and authoritative, with power behind it.

One word, and his mind pulled back into focus. If he concentrated enough, he could vaguely see her. Her face, her arms. It seemed so far away, but he could feel her hand grasping his own.

“I’m right here,” she was saying, and he clung to her words. “I know you’re in there somewhere, and— and I’m right here. Okay? You’re fine. You’re alright.”

And his limbs were pulled back by the energy soup of the Speed Force, and the lightning storm around him was so loud he could barely focus enough to think, and he felt so exhausted he felt incapable of doing anything. But he dragged his arms forward, surged towards the voice, towards Linda, until it was like he tore through an invisible membrane with a loud popping sound and broke out of the Speed Force and then was wrapping his arms around her as tight as they would go.

The storm was gone. Everything was quiet. He was just in Jay’s living room, laying on his couch, and Linda was hugging him to her, crying into his shoulder.

“Wally,” she cried, pressing kisses to his temple, “Wally, you came back.”

He buried his head in her shoulder. “I love you,” he said, because it was the truest thing he could think of, and then felt himself slipping back into the shadows of unconsciousness.

***

When he came to there was a cool, numbing feeling like novocaine flooding through his body. Wally groaned softly, blinking awake.

“Wally,” a voice said over him. “It’s all right, son. You’re fine.”

He blinked up at the speckled ceiling. “Linda,” he said groggily, before he said anything else.

“She’s upstairs with Joan and the kiddos,” Jay assured, because that was Jay sitting in the armchair next to the coach. He laid a hand in Wally’s hair. “Everything’s fine.”

“The Speed Force,” Wally said faintly. “Can’t...  feel it.”

“That would be me,” said another voice. Wally shifted, painfully, and caught sight of Max in a rocking chair across from him. 

“You’re cutting me off?” Wally asked.

“More... siphoning it.”

“You’re stealing my speed?” he asked, frowning. “I thought I was the only one who could do that.”

“Well,” Max said insufferably, “You forget that I know everything.”

Wally laughed, but his ribs ached and it turned more into a cough.

“I’ll go get Linda,” Max said, standing from his chair. “Now that you’re awake you don’t need my services anymore anyway.”

Wally mumbled a thank you as Max left the room. 

He felt exhausted. Every inch of him ached. But he also felt... okay. Yes. Okay. He wasn’t on fire anymore.

“Jay,” Wally groaned. “What happened to me?”

Jay took a breath. “Max can explain it better than I c—"

“No, I— I want to hear it from you.” Wally shifted a little, so that he could see Jay’s face. Jay grimaced at him.

“Well... okay.” Jay sighed. “We don’t really understand a lot of it yet, Wally. But what we think happened is that you were stuck in the Speed Force.”

Wally hesitated. “But I was... here the whole time, wasn’t I?” he asked. He remembered seeing Linda. She had been holding him, even when he felt far away.

“That’s the funny thing.” Jay rubbed his hands together idly. “Usually when you get trapped in there, your whole body goes in the Speed Force. You physically go there. This time, physically you were here. Just your mind was stuck in there.”

Wally chewed his bottom lip, processing this.

“How did just my mind get trapped in the Speed Force?” he asked, a bit incredulously.

Jay gave him an artful shrug.

“Better ask Max that. Though he isn’t too sure either. We think Speed Force energy has been leaking into you for months, making you feel all funny. It isn’t really like anything we’ve seen before.”

Of course. Wally sighed, rubbing at his forehead. “But I’m... okay now?” he asked, just to make sure.

“Sure are. Max was sort of... filtering the energy out of you. And it shouldn’t happen again; he thinks this morning was a bit like a fever breaking. It should be over. And now that you know, you’ll be able to stop it if it happens again.”

“This doesn’t make sense,” Wally bemoaned. “That shouldn’t just happen , not if I didn’t do it on purpose. And how’d you get me out, anyway? I mean, my— uh— my mind.”

“Well, we did what we always do when you get stuck in the Speed Force.” Jay was smiling. “We called Linda.”

Wally paused. And smiled back. “Good thinking,” he murmured.

It was quiet for a minute. Jay reached over and grasped at Wally’s shoulder, tugging him over for a hug over the arm of the couch. Wally chuckled, leaning his head against Jay’s side.

“You scared us, junior,” Jay said frankly.

“I scared me ,” Wally agreed. “And I know... I know I scared Linda.”

Jay said nothing. Just squeezed Wally’s shoulder with one hand.

Wally dragged in a deep breath, then another. 

“I don’t want to be like this,” he said quietly. “I don’t want to be a... a mess.”

This felt like too much. Giving too much away.

Jay swallowed. “We’re all a mess sometimes.”

“Not like me,” Wally insisted. “You saw me earlier, Jay, I’ve been— I haven’t been... right.”

“Wally,” Jay said, and his voice had a serious edge now. “If you’re a mess like this, there’s always a reason. You find that reason, and say it out loud, and you’re halfway to fixing it.”

This made sense. Wally sniffled.

“I think I know the reason,” he said thickly.

“Well good, then. You’re a quarter of the way there already.”

Wally laughed weakly. “I thought you said it was halfway.”

Jay raised an eyebrow at him. “I said you had to say it out loud.”

Oh. Wally shut his eyes.

Because he knew the reason, and it was right there, and he had spent twenty years not saying it out loud because it was the only thing he knew how to do. It was the only thing he could do, the only thing he was capable of. If he said it, he would break apart. Maybe everyone would. He wouldn’t be able to hold himself together anymore. There was one thing Wally West had been afraid of his whole life, and it was the truth. 

There was something that scared him more now, though. Two somethings. 

“I’m going to... ” Wally swallowed. “I’m going to call Iris tonight. I think.”

This, horrifyingly, seemed to mean something to Jay. He nodded, patting Wally’s back. 

“Good,” was all he said. 

Wally took one more deep, shuddering breath in, and opened his eyes just in time to see his wife in the doorway.

“WALLY!”

He grinned as Linda flew into the room, and had no time to say anything at all before he was tackled to the couch in a hug.

***

“I need to talk to you about Dad.”

It was a week later. Wally felt better, massively better; he was no longer a shaky, hysterical wreck. He had talked to Linda. Been honest with her, like he should have been all along. Had held his babies and kissed their heads and told himself he could be brave. 

He had never said those words before, probably. My worst nightmare, he thought, and it made him laugh internally. 

“Alright,” said his Aunt Iris. She sounded gentle and patient and confused.

Vague explanations of I want to talk about something were all he had given her. With how antsy the whole family had been lately, he knew she’d probably guessed something was wrong.

He was standing in the kitchen in front of the bay window, leaning against the wall. Iris stood behind him by the table, arms crossed.

“Did you know?” Wally asked.

“Know what?” Iris asked cautiously.

“That he hit me.”

Iris’s face was suddenly ghostly white in the window reflection. Wally glanced away. Watching her expression was too much.

“What did you just say?” she asked faintly.

Wally swallowed. His tongue wouldn’t work. He couldn’t say anything. 

“My brother used to hit you?” she asked.

“He wasn’t really your brother,” Wally said thickly. “You were always better than us.” Better than me, he thought, better than all the Wests. You were always something more.

“I lived two doors down from him for eighteen years, that makes him my brother,” Iris scoffed. “Wally. You’re telling me he hit you. When you were younger.”

He nodded, silently.

Iris looked gaunt and sick and still, somehow, steadfast.

“I only ended up in the hospital once,” Wally said quickly, as if that was reassuring. “Mom, uh— didn’t want to drive me. Said she was too tired.” He coughed, a little, turning back to the window. He leaned his head against the glass and closed his eyes.

He could hear Iris crying. 

“I’m not telling you to make you feel sorry for me,” Wally clumsily tried to explain, squeezing his eyes shut, “I’m— well— it’s just I’ve been thinking about it, since the twins were born, and I— I— you didn’t know. And I thought maybe you should.” His eyes were wet. The glass was a cool pressure against his forehead. I never wanted you to know, he didn’t say, I never did. I shouldn’t have said anything at all.

“He was always a bully,” Iris said behind him, swallowing down tears. “He wasn’t a very nice boy. But I never thought... I never thought he would... ” 

She didn't seem able to finish.

“I think he just liked it,” Wally said, very, very quietly. “I don’t think it was ever a moral thing for him. Like... he felt obligated to punish me, or whatever. I think he just got bored with me.”

“And your mother?” Iris asked, voice shaking.

He shrugged uncomfortably. “She mostly just smoked in the next room. Um. Or told me to be more careful. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t remember a lot of it, really. It just kind of started... coming back.”

Iris stepped towards him, then, reaching out a hand to clasp his shoulder. She gently tugged on it, turning him to face her. 

“Why would you have to ask me if I knew?” Iris asked, looking him fiercely in the eyes. “How could you— how could you possibly think I knew? God, Wally, you... why didn’t you tell me then ?”

“I don’t know,” he mumbled, helpless. “I don’t know, I— I guess I thought it was normal. I thought maybe... ” The words I thought maybe I deserved it never made it to his lips.

Her eyes were glassy. She said nothing, but took his right hand in both of her own and squeezed it between them.

Wally felt hot, wet tears running down his cheeks.

“Can you say it to me?” Wally asked, voice breaking. 

“Say what, dearest?”

“Tell me,” Wally choked out, “That— that if you had known. You would have kept me. That you would have kept me with you.”

She looked up at him. Tears welled in her eyes and fell down her cheeks, but she held his gaze with an iron-hard steadiness.

“Wally West,” she said firmly. “I would have stolen you away and kept you forever.” 

This , Wally thought, slightly hysterical, can’t be real . A sentence he’d shied away from for twenty years, and there it was, freely given. 

Iris held him close. Wally said, “Thank you,” thank you, thank you, because it was the only thing he could possibly say. 

***

“Hello,” Wally said softly. “I figured it was time me and you talked.”

He was sitting cross-legged in the grassy lawn of his backyard. It was evening, a few days... after. After everything. He felt calm, for the first time in a long time. Wally had kind of forgotten what that felt like.

He had drawn on just a tiny smidgeon of Speed Force energy; not enough to go speeding off. Barely enough to feel it at all. Just enough that he felt a little buzz in his veins. 

“Max finally told me his big theory,” he hummed. “The one he was too nervous to tell me before. Apparently, the thing that made my issues so unique was that I wasn’t consciously drawing on the Speed Force.”

He paused for a few moments of dramatic effect. 

“It wasn’t me reaching for you,” Wally said with a small smile. “It was you reaching for me.”

Though there were dozens of working theories, no one could ever come up with a solid answer on whether or not the Speed Force was sentient or not. Whether or not it could think. Whether or not it was aware, even the tiniest bit. The thing was that every speedster knew, deep down, that the Speed Force was a little bit alive. It was just something they could sense, in their bones.

Wally had no idea if the Speed Force could hear him right now. If it could comprehend language at all. But he had a sneaking suspicion that the Speed Force understood more than they realized.

“Here’s what I think happened,” Wally continued lightly. “I think you felt my panic. And you tried to... heal it, in your own way. You started flooding me with energy. Messing with my memory even, maybe. Drawing me into yourself whenever you felt me freak out.”

If he deluded himself enough, he could say that he perhaps felt a little hum of agreement beneath his skin.

Wally coughed. “And it didn’t really work, but. You tried. You saw me hurting and you tried to fix it. So. I just wanted to say thank you.”

A cool night breeze swept over his skin. Wally stared up at the stars. 

“But I need to start being honest,” he said softly. “And really dealing with things, instead of suppressing them. Instead of... you know... running away. So I’ll call if I need you. But I think I’m okay for now.”

He sat there, for a minute. And then he released the little bit of energy he had been holding. He hoped they had come to some kind of understanding.

Wally gathered his knees to his chest, just taking in the night air. He didn’t know how long he’d been out there before he felt a nudge at his shoulder.

“Hey,” Linda said, squatting down to sit next to him. She had a baby cradled in each arm. “You know, when I was walking out here, from behind it almost looked like you were... meditating.”

Wally’s face turned tomato red.

Linda burst into laughter. “Oh my god, were you really? Ha! I can’t wait to tell Max.”

“You will tell him nothing,” Wally said, holding up a finger. “Because then Bart will find out, and I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“Aww, my Wally, all spiritually enlightened.” Linda smiled, passing Irey over to him. “So. Did you have your conversation?”

Wally nodded, chuckling as Irey’s grasping fist caught his pointer finger. “Yes. I, uh... think I did.”

He had told Linda of his plans before he had come out here, no matter how silly it sounded to try and talk to the Speed Force.

He had told Linda a lot of things, lately. Or at least he was trying to.

“Did it go okay?” she asked curiously.

Wally thought for a minute. “I think so,” he said, and it was the truth. “I actually think so.”

His conversation with Linda had gone okay, too. Better than he’d always feared it would. There was a lot of anger, one thrown object, and a screamed I’m going to fucking find him and kill him. But blessedly, miraculously, none of that anger had been aimed at Wally. 

In the end she had just looked at him for a long time. And said I love you. He kept waiting for the You should have told me, but the closest she ever came was I wish I’d known. 

His only answer had been that he had avoided saying anything to anyone for so long that it started to feel impossible. Like it wasn’t something that should ever be said. Like he couldn’t pry it from his throat. 

Linda tossed something onto his lap, drawing Wally out of his thoughts. He blinked down at his cell phone.

“Um,” he said, baffled. “Thank you?”

“So I went into your phone,” Linda said. She turned away from him, blinking up at the sky. 

“Okay...?”

“And blocked your mother’s number.”

This caught him off guard. Wally snorted. “Really?”

Linda looked contemplative. “I acknowledge that it was done in the heat of the moment,” she said. “But it was either that or show up to her house with a baseball bat. So. I think I chose the milder of the two options.”

Wally laughed to himself, a bit hysterically. “I am so glad,” he said with a flourish of his hand, “that we haven’t seen her since the wedding. You two might have gotten in a fistfight.”

“All I’m saying is she better not show her face around here, or else she’ll get that fistfight.”

He shook his head wonderingly. “I love the hatred you hold in your heart.”

Linda chuckled. She bent down to lay her head on his shoulder. “Wally,” she said, no longer in a joking tone. “I think I’ll be perfectly happy if I never see your mother again.”

“Um,” said Wally, unsure of where this was going. “That’s understandable.”

“And I think I’ll be incredibly happy if you decide to not see her again. Or talk to her. If she just goes away forever.”

Wally stared out at the grass.

“Well, you made it easy for me, didn’t you,” he said quietly. “Her number’s already blocked and everything.”

Linda sat up, looking at him with a delighted smile and terrible hope in her eyes. “I did,” she said happily, and leaned back against his shoulder contentedly.

See, the one thing Wally had always been most afraid of had been the truth.

Two children had changed that. Had changed that in an instant.

I’ll be just like him. His fear, his panic, his constant companion. 

It had taken him weeks to realize that hiding beneath I’ll be just like him was a deeper, even more harrowing thought: I could never do that. Not to them, not to my babies, of course I couldn’t, I’d stop my own heart first, I’d never, ever, ever hurt them.

So how could he ?

Wally held Irey up to the sky, smiling up at her dangling little form. She squealed with laughter. 

My children are only safe when they are in my arms. That had been his one thought, his truth, on repeat for months and months. He knew now that it was not quite the whole truth. He wanted them close, because he wanted them to be protected. He wanted them to be safe.

Wally hadn’t been protected. He hadn’t been safe.

His children would be. He’d make sure of that. But the world wasn’t such a cruel place. They would be fine, even if he couldn’t hold them every minute of their lives like he wanted to.

“The sky is pretty tonight,” Linda mused, positioning Jai to look up at the stars.

It was. It was a clear night; stars went on in every direction. 

A nice, slow night, just the four of them. His wife and his children. His family.

“I love you,” Wally said, because it was always relevant. Linda smiled over at him, and he leaned over to kiss her.

“I love you too, you dork.”

He laughed. Then, so they didn’t feel left out, he kissed the top of Irey’s head and then Jai’s.

Wally found there was no reason in the world for any kind of panic.