A. N. Yes, it's been forever (Christmas 2015?) since I've posted anything anywhere. Life happens, big developments, yada yada, busy busy – you've been waiting long enough! Here's the third one-shot in this mini-series as a warmup to get back in the writing groove. I'll drop some notes and updates at the bottom A.N.

As always, hope you enjoy!

Iron Woobie

THREE.

It was strange, having superspeed and feeling the life drain from your body.

Wally was in the process of passing out, and what should have taken moments was taking minutes in his accelerated headspace.

Probably because this was a gradual, smooth unconsciousness, rather than the sudden result of blunt force trauma.

Yeah, that was probably it.

He had enough coherency to recognize the causes of this particular blackout. Hypoglycemia, dehydration, and a poisoned respiratory system. Not to mention just pure fatigue.

The speedster also had enough coherency to reflect on the setting. There he was, slumped against a wall in a Phoenix alleyway beside a backpack and Robin – the two of them stripped down to their undies. In "civvies", which for a couple of unprepared sidekicks in dire straits meant one step away from going full commando.

If Wally weren't staring his own death in the face he would have cracked a joke. Instead, he fought to stay conscious. Hold on. Just a few minutes longer…

This was certainly not the ideal time or place to pass out, but his body had had enough. His eyelids slipped close of their own volition, and he collapsed against Robin's shoulder as the all-too-familiar void claimed him.

None of this was what Wally had expected when he woke up that morning, ate a bagel, and watched last night's American Idol.

Really, who planned on dying in the desert on what seemed like any other ordinary day?

Eight hours earlier, eleven-year-old Robin was in deep. And also high up.

Ventilation shafts were usually his friend – and one of the few advantages he had over Batman in some situations – but in this case, they were the bane of his existence. He groaned as he rounded a corner and encountered yet another fork in the system, another choice to make, another five to ten minutes of uncertainty, climbing, and falling.

With all the metal surrounding him on all sides, vents were typically on either extremes of the temperature spectrum. In Gotham during the winter? Heat flowed through air shafts like water in a pool – saturating, sweltering, suffocating, and scorching all metal to the touch.

But here, in a remote facility in Arizona, during the summer? Icy winds buffeted Robin's hair and face, and he was grateful for the domino mask protecting his eyes from drying out. He shivered, and that made it even harder to hold the Block against his chest as he shuffled and slid his way in search of an exit.

It was a small miracle he hadn't dropped it yet. Robin glanced down at the Block in his possession – a rectangular, solid brick of data and answers, freshly hacked and stolen from the computer labs somewhere below him. His arm was tired from carrying the thing for what felt like over an hour.

He consulted his mental map, attempting to orient himself in the pitch-black, maze-like network of vents through which he was currently trying to escape. Left. I'll go left.

One hand wielding his handy tool for unscrewing grates in vents like these, Robin disabled a fan and another fence barrier – taking a chilling blast of air to the face – before continuing forward. One minute passed. Two.

And then…

Another dead end.

Fury welled up in the Boy Wonder's chest and head, and he curled a fist to punch at the offending wall denying him release from this prison of his own making. But he restrained himself. Because he was Robin, and he was stealthy, and he was going to find a way out of this.

His stomach rumbled. He was hungry. He ignored the hunger. Look at the facts.

There was no way he was getting out of this mess without some help. But he couldn't call Batman – he wasn't supposed to be out here on his own anyway, having infiltrated an illegal operation by stowing away on a delivery truck. And that meant he couldn't call anyone else in the League, who would most certainly alert Batman to his whereabouts and predicament.

So who could he call that could get here quick and keep a secret?

His stomach growled again, and he frowned, looking down. Out of his memory, a recollection of lunch one day about three months back came to mind. He was sitting beside Batman, across from the Flash and…

Him.

The startling image of a giddy redhead in bright yellow and red grew more defined and certain with each passing second of decision.

Him?

Maybe.

They barely knew each other, had only crossed paths about three or four times since that first meeting, but… they got along okay enough when their mentors introduced them. The other sidekick seemed excited to meet him, to work with him. A very optimistic, high-energy, fast being of almost unsettling cheer and humor that seemed very out of place in the Gotham diner where they'd shared a meal.

Robin shuddered at the mental image of the ginger consuming more food than he'd ever thought possible for a single human. ("Metabolism plus puberty," the guy explained around a mouthful of his fourth burger and counting. "Gotta get them calories somehow!")

To be honest, Robin hadn't decided if he totally "liked" the guy. They weren't buddy-buddy in the slightest. Yet. But Robin definitely didn't hate him, and for someone raised by the Dark Knight, that spoke volumes.

Besides, he realized he needed that speedster. Right now.

Yup, definitely him.

Robin sucked in an achingly cold breath of air and pulled up a phone number he'd hacked months ago after their first meeting, hugging the Block closer against his ribs.

No turning back.

He made the call.

Thirteen-year-old Wally West had a total scatterbrain for an uncle. And everyone knew it when he dropped off the grown man's forgotten lunch at his workplace, along with a note from the man's wife.

Uncle Barry laughed sheepishly as his coworkers cast knowing looks behind his back. (Typical Allen.) "Thanks, Kid."

"Third time this week, Uncle Barry. Aunt Iris says you need to take better care of yourself. Pay more attention to the little things."

"I know."

Wally raised his eyebrows playfully, wagging a finger at his uncle, friend, and mentor. "Do you? You know, you're not going to be very productive without proper nutrition, mister."

Barry laughed. "Okay, okay! Geez, what are you, my mom?" There was a slightly awkward pause at that, and then Barry rubbed the back of his head. "You're working out today, right?"

"Yup. Might start with the gym for some strength training, warm-up with a jog down Main, then some cross-country and endurance training for cardio – later, when it's not as hot."

Summer vacation was only boring as long as you had nothing to do. And with just six months in the actual crime-fighting, hero-ing business (finally, after a whole year of just figuring out how to use and control his newfound speed) Wally was anxious to turn every day into an opportunity to stretch his legs. And improve.

Because boy was there room for improvement.

"Leg day?" Barry asked with a smirk. Leg day, code for speed-sprinting. Raising his max speed so he could easily zip up to Mach One and then slow back down to baseline – without tripping – was Wally's goal for the summer.

"Never skip leg day." Wally grinned.

"Now, remember." Barry set his brown bag lunch down on his desk and ruffled Wally's hair just to irritate him. "Stay safe out there, hydrate frequently, and don't push yourself, all right? We don't want another repeat of last summer, Kid."

"Obviously. No wipeouts." Wally rolled his eyes. "I'll check in later, yeah?"

"Sounds good."

The day was still young, the sun still rising in the sky just one hour past dawn. Wally stretched with a yawn at the intersection outside the Central City PD headquarters, waiting for the pedestrian right-of-way to cross the street. Maybe I'll grab some coffee for an extra boost before I get started. Or would that be overboard?

Two seconds later, his phone rang.

Digging it out of his pocket, Wally frowned. Unknown number. He picked up. "Y'ello! Whatever it is you're selling, I don't want any–"

"Kid Flash?"

Wally froze.

He swallowed. Looked to his right and left at the passersby hurrying on their way to work that morning. Glanced at the sign giving the okay to cross the street. Strongly debated turning back inside to get Uncle Barry.

How does someone know my secret ID? And my civvie number, for crying out loud?

"Kid Flash? … Hello? Is anyone there?" The voice was a whisper, an urgent rasp with… a slight echo?

Steeling himself, Wally sucked in a breath and muttered, "Who is this?"

"It's… it's Robin."

Wally's mouth gaped a moment, and he eked out under his breath, "Boy Wonder?" Need to keep this end of the conversation vague, might be eavesdroppers.

He recalled the few times the two sidekicks had met in the past six months that Wally was out as an official hero. The other guy seemed a bit standoffish – aloof even. Not a total killjoy or antisocial, exactly, but… obviously the partner to the Batman. Analytical, reserved, and a bit put off by Wally's… essence. Probably didn't have many friends, and it showed.

(You're one to talk, dork, Wally reminded himself. Not like you have much experience in the friend department.)

Still. Coming from Central City, where he was hailed and adored by all, Wally got the impression through their limited interactions that Robin just didn't like him very much. So what gives? Why call now?

Wally's eyes narrowed. "Wait a sec – how'd you even get this number?"

"Not important."

"Uh, I kinda beg to differ–"

"Look, I'm in a tight spot so I don't have time for banter, okay? I–" Robin fell silent for a moment, and there was shuffling in the background before he continued in a low whisper, "I need a huge favor – and to swear you to secrecy."

"Ooo. Fancy."

"I'm serious. Whatever happens, don't tell Batman."

These Gothamites are so dramatic. Seriously. "Mum's the word… What's the favor?" Wally bit his lip, nodding casually at some businesswomen walking past.

"An extraction."

"Ah, wisdom teeth giving you trouble?" He joked to hide the nerves of having the Dark Knight's apprentice call him up on his freaking civvie phone.

"What? No – okay, long story short, I'm currently holed up in some air vents at this place in Arizona, and I desperately need a ride out of here."

"A ride? What do you think I am, a taxi?" Wally glanced at his phone incredulously. "And why the heck are you in Arizona anyway? Where's B – the Big Guy?"

"Please? I don't have any other – I'll owe you." Robin sighed on the other end of the line. He sounded really on edge, adding, "I can send you the coordinates and… and just meet you at the curb. In and out, back to the Zetas, and I'm out of your hair."

Wally cocked his head in a momentary thought, checking his watch and doing some mental math for distance and his speed. Well, he was going to be doing some endurance training today , he couldn't pass up the chance to hang with Robin one-on-one, without the guy's mentor breathing down his neck. Could turn out to be a bonding moment or something.

With a shrug, Wally nodded to himself. "Yeah, I'm in. I'll Zeta to Phoenix, and then… take the highway, I guess. Might take an hour or so, that okay? It'll be a hot one, gotta pace myself for the return trip."

"That's fine." Robin sighed in deep relief. "Thanks. You're a lifesaver. And um – you can radio me on the comms when you get close."

"Right. See you then."

There was a Zeta-Beam station at the STAR labs facility in Phoenix – the national branch for studying meterology and natural disasters – and Wally stepped through in full Kid Flash regalia after dumping his civvie clothes behind a dumpster back in Central. He'd come back for them later, since he needed to travel as light as possible. After signing a few autographs of interns at STAR labs and using their Wi-Fi to look up the coordinates Robin sent on his phone, Wally stepped out into the outskirts of Phoenix and groaned.

It was hot. So hot. The weather app said it was… oh, God. 120 degrees Fahrenheit? What kind of hell state is this? Wally's phone was starting to overheat, so after memorizing the directions, he plopped it in his backpack for safekeeping. After stopping at a drug store in Phoenix to stock up on some snacks and water – and winking at the stunned cashier – he didn't hesitate before taking off towards his destination. The place seemed like a small blip in the middle of nowhere on the map, the nearest town having a population of less than 3,000 people.

It was calming, running the interstate. Wally's mind wandered, his legs moved on autopilot, and his hair flew in the breeze. Despite the mystery behind his being out here in the first place, he loved this.

Some time later as he drew closer to Robin's location, the speedster tapped his comms and turned it to the Boy Wonder's channel. "KF to Robin – I'm about four minutes away, over."

There was nothing but static.

"Uh… Robin, this is Kid Flash. I'm getting closer… You copy?"

No response.

Huh. Bad signal? They were out in the boonies.

Wally picked up the pace, and a few seconds later he was standing on the side of the highway. No sign of Robin. This better not be a prank.

Spinning around in frustration, Wally considered the dirt path leading perpendicularly away from the road. About half a mile away, a building stood on a hill against the sky. Must be it. He followed the path.

A large, electrified, chain-link fence surrounded a seven- or eight-story tall, wide, gray building. Solar panels, chimneys, and satellite dishes decorated the roof. A manned gate barred entrance to the base, and armed guards patrolled the grounds in regular intervals.

No sight of Robin. A frown crossed his face. Something's not right…

Wally tapped his earpiece again. Still nothing but static. "Robin, come in. Come-in-come-in-come-in."

"Come out, come out, little thief!"

Ignoring the chatter from Kid Flash in his ear, Robin crawled as silently as possible, trying not to make any noise alerting the facility to his exact location. He was cornered, and his pursuers knew it. Should he try to break out the ventilation system, take his chances fighting on the ground, find an exit that way?

Voices echoed through the metal shaft, taunting him.

"We know you're there."

"The jig is up! Let's not draw this out any longer."

Robin hurriedly rounded a corner, and his knee hit the wall with a wince-inducing clang.

"There you are," growled a voice through the grate right below him. "You're not getting away, kid."

Robin's heart skipped a beat.

Uh-oh.

BOOM.

Just then, a loud explosion from inside the building made Wally jump, and made the guards in view running around in shock and disarray. Thick plumes of gray and green smoke started pouring from the windows – and those chimneys up top.

Robin said he was in the air vents.

Wally's irritation melted into concern. He had a hunch that Boy Wonder was connected to that blast somehow... And might still be in there.

Wally circled the perimeter again before resigning himself to the fact that stealth was just not going to be his friend in this extraction. He got a running start, pulled his goggles back on over his face, and held in a deep breath. Then he rushed the front gate, vaulting over the barricade and leaving the startled cries of the guard behind him.

Pick up speed – faster, faster, and up we go! Wally raced up the side of the building. Eight floors was always stretch, but he made it high enough to dangle by his hands off the side of the warehouse. His foot gained some traction on a window sill, and he shoved himself over edge, rolling away from the side of the building just as bullets peppered the space he'd just occupied. Yikes. These guys meant business.

No time to dilly-dally – he couldn't hold his breath forever. Wally lunged towards one of the fume hoods, yanked away the grate, and dropped down an air shaft. One hand reached up to switch his goggles to infrared. I can hold my breath for maybe ten seconds more – gotta make them count.

Wally didn't like air vents too much. They were so small and constricting that claustrophobia was bound to kick in if he spent too much time in them. So he moved quickly, trying to judge the direction of the smoke for where the source could be, while scanning for any sign of life.

He rounded a corner and suddenly stumbled upon a bright splotch of red and yellow on his display. Found you! Right before his hand collided hard with something with sharp edges. "OW! Son of a–"

… Oops.

Gas flooded Wally's nose, mouth, and lungs, and… yup. It was poisonous. He started hacking so hard he nearly hurled right then and there at the burning stench, before turning his attention to the limp form of the other person in the ventilation shaft. No wonder Robin wasn't answering – he probably passed out when the gas first blew. Wally got a good handful of the Boy Wonder's uniform and the heavy box, and dragged them back the way he came.

Not for the first time, Wally was deeply thankful for all those upper body workouts Uncle Barry put him through on a near-daily basis back in the spring. He miraculously managed to haul the other sidekick and the strange item up over his head through the fume hood leading to the roof, and then pulled himself up behind them.

Panting and coughing, Wally clutched his chest. It burned. Really hurt to breathe. Made his eyes tear up, even through the protective goggles. His head felt lightweight, and Wally closed his eyes as his equilibrium rebalanced itself. Wouldn't want to dizzily stagger off the side of an 85-foot tall building or anything.

Wally had only had about three to five seconds of exposure – and it was already this bad? Robin had been stewing in the gas for longer, and was out cold. Not to mention the guy wasn't wearing actual goggles like Wally's. Not good.

We've gotta clear the area. Get out of here.

Without any further thought, Wally stashed the strange Block into his backpack, frowning as he tested the extra thirty or forty pounds of weight, before hoisting Robin over his shoulder. Eyeing a gutter pipe – it'll have to do – Wally grunted before sliding down the side of the facility. The hot metal scalded his hands through his gloves a bit, but his feet were finally back on the ground where they belonged.

"Okay," he exhaled, readjusted the weight of his burdens, and took off.

Faint sirens wailed and gunfire crackled in his wake as Wally bolted down the road to the main highway, putting some distance between them and the facility. After making his way down the interstate a bit, he slowed down and carefully lowered his burdens on the side of the road. He dropped to his knees beside the Boy Wonder, rubbing sweat off his own forehead.

"Hey, Robin. Wakey wakey." He shook the guy's shoulder a little.

No dice.

Just as Wally was wondering if he would have to perform mouth-to-mouth on the sidekick to the freaking Dark Knight, Robin shifted and coughed, eyelids fluttering in the glaring sunlight.

Thank God. No liplock today.

The ginger leaned away in relief and dug out a bottle of water from his backpack, handing it to Robin who squinted at the sky, dazed. "Hey, dude. 'Sup?" Kid Flash idly muttered as he tried to get Google Maps to work with the poor cell service. Have to figure out where we are. And where to go…

"… You made it."

"Yup. Think we can rest for a second while I get my bearings–"

Wally broke off at the faint sound of multiple revving engines. Whipping his head around, he could see three or four motorcycles and a few cars and trucks in the distance – and getting closer by the second.

"Actually, scratch that. Alley-oop!" And they were off again. Wally accelerated from a brisk jog to a full run, Robin riding piggy-back this time, and the weighted backpack strapped tight to his chest.

That gas he'd inhaled at the facility was rapidly taking its toll. He was barely hitting 120 miles an hour, a few of their pursuers were keeping up, and he already started to feel that vague stitch in his side. It'd been year since he'd felt the sensation. Disconcerting, to say the least. I'm not that out of shape, am I?

About a minute into what had suddenly developed into a long-distance, high-speed, cross-country chase scene, Robin spoke up from behind Kid Flash's head. "Why're you going so slow? Thought you could–" He broke off to cough awkwardly. "Thought you could break the sound barrier."

Panting as he ran to an internal rhythm, Wally snorted in disbelief. (And instantly regretted it as a cloud of dust went up his already sore sinuses.) "You're kidding me, right? I'm hauling you – and a big ol' sack of bricks – in the summer heat, across the Sonoran Desert, trying to pace myself because I have no clue where the heck we're going!"

A beat. "Oh."

"Yeah. 'Oh.' Not to mention, I don't have my hands free to guard your neck from the magnificent whiplash you'd get from hitting Mach One. Trying not to kill you while I'm saving you and your little contraband here. As long as we're not in firing range for those guys, this is as fast as we need to be going."

"Ri-right."

Wally wheezed, and his diaphragm yelled at him for all of this unexpected abuse of his body. "Plus… got a good whiff of that gas back there… Not fun."

"Gotcha."

"Just– just leave the running stuff to me, okay? I'm kinda good at it." Kid Flash snickered despite their situation.

"You're right. Sorry. No backseat driving." Robin squinted through his domino mask, rubbing dust off the whites. That didn't help his visibility much – his eyes hurt. From what he could see, it was a long stretch of asphalt ahead. A long stretch. "How long do you think you'll have to go?"

Wally shrugged a little as he mused out loud in between breaths. "Well… there was a small town on the way here – Wellton, I think? But the nearest hospital is in Yuma, a bit farther west from here–"

"Can you get to Phoenix?"

"Phoenix?" Wally grimaced, thinking about how far away the capital city was. "I mean, it's in the opposite direction. But, I guess I could? Not sure if I can last that long… Why?"

"Because Yuma's within 10 miles of the Mexican border. It's probably a good idea to not start a fight with armed enemies there, if it comes to a confrontation. Wouldn't want to start an international incident. Kind of the opposite of what we're going for." Robin blinked hard, his vision blurring heavily.

"Right, right… 'Cause you don't wanna tip off Batman..." Wally's muscles were starting to cramp, and he rolled his shoulders with a wince. I've pushed myself harder than this. So, yeah, I think I can make it. Don't wanna let Boy Wonder down, after all. "Phoenix it is. Kinda runnin' low on options here, though. We've got about a half-mile lead on our friends back there. You got an idea to shake 'em once I pull a U-turn?"

"Um…" Squinting his practically useless eyes, Robin reached down to his utility belt, navigating the pockets from memory. "I've got a few smoke bombs left – and a flash bomb. When we get close, I'll throw up a screen and toss the flash. That'll make a gap in the path as they swerve to avoid it, and you can run right through."

"Then I step on it, and we get the heck out of Dodge." Wally smirked as he tightened his grip on Robin's legs and prepared to spin. "You know what? It's a plan. Here we go!"

It was a bit like playing chicken. The fastest kid in the world zooming towards an entourage of armed and angry motorists, putting trust in his rider that they wouldn't get mowed down by gunfire and/or run over in just a few seconds.

Wally had actually never gone into combat with someone besides Uncle Barry at his side yet. And Robin had never fought with a speedster. Their little setup was a first for both of them. It was exhilarating just as much as it was nerve-wracking – untried, untested, unknown potential.

But with remarkable accuracy and precision, Robin launched an arsenal of tiny explosions that set up a cloud of gray and black dust in the road between them. Wally focused his perception as he anticipated the bullets that inevitably came piercing through the thick haze, zipping to and fro with expertise that only came from a year's worth of practice with his mentor. Robin clung tight to the speedster's back, amazed at how easily the other sidekick slipped and dodged. He palmed his own pièce de résistance, watching for the right moment.

"Head's up!" he shouted beside Wally's ear over the shouts of gunfire and roar of engines.

The flash bomb went off just a few yards in front of the speedster's feet, and Wally grit his teeth as he raced right for it, hoping he wasn't about to plow headfirst into an SUV.

But sure enough, there was nothing but air as he punched through the smoke screen and left the disoriented enemy in the dust. All in all, the whole maneuver only took about ten seconds, but it felt like an eternity. Still… they pulled it off.

"That actually worked." Robin sounded surprised, impressed even.

"That was… awesome!" Wally gasped with a grin, just pumped that they weren't dead. A bullet just barely grazed his ear back there, but he could hardly feel it under all the adrenaline. "A'ight! Next stop, Phoenix."

A third of the way to Phoenix, Wally was feeling the burn in every way.

What little of his pale skin wasn't covered by his uniform or cowl was getting completely roasted under the sun. (Sunscreen. Duh. Knew I forgot someting.) He was starving from having burned away his breakfast calories hours ago, and his stomach was starting to eat itself. Lactic acid was already starting to build up in his thighs and calves as his metabolism went haywire trying to purge the poisonous gas in his system. And the gas itself made his lungs and eyes ache.

Lessons from Uncle Barry came to mind, about endurance. Not even a speedster was immune to total burnout and worse. Just like any other normal human, factors like food and water, climate and terrain, and just basic fitness level came into play. They just had a lot more time to deal with the factors – or succumb to them – than the average person.

Wally didn't know how much time was left.

Still, at least he was awake. Couldn't say the same for the guy on his back.

Robin was dead to the world. Again. And if it wasn't for the guy's unconscious hacking and shaky breathing against Wally's shoulder blades, he'd be worried the Boy Wonder was dead for real. And here I thought this was going to be a bonding experience. Ha.

When Robin first stopped responding to Wally's prodding and questions, he felt his gut clench – and not just in pain or hunger. "Oh, this is not good." Not good, not good, not good. He couldn't let Robin kick the bucket. Not on his watch. Forget what the freaking Batman would do to him, Wally actually liked the guy. He'd admired him for years, followed his work, even got inspired to become a hero because of him. And Wally just got to meet him. He wanted to…

For the love of Pete – he wanted to be Robin's friend. Wanted to get on his good side. That was why agreed to attempt this whole extraction in the first place. He wanted to make a good impression, wanted to impress the other sidekick.

He wanted Robin to like him.

You just might be my first real friend. Ever. There is no way in heck I'm going to your funeral, Boy Wonder. Not on my watch.

Wally ground his teeth together in frustration as he fought back another wave of nausea. His backpack thumping against his stomach and rib cage with every step wasn't helping. That big Block inside the bag hung like an anvil around his neck, along with what was left of the snacks and water Wally'd stocked up on earlier that day. He wanted to dump the weird brick, but he didn't. If that thing – whatever it is – is important enough to Robin to cause all this mess, then I'd better not give it up now.

Salty sweat started to trickle behind his goggles into his eyes, and he couldn't spare a hand to rub it away. Wally sighed.

I need to pee.

His vision was so blurred it was white. And all he could hear was a pulsing, irritating string of one syllable.

"…ob. Rob. Rob. Rob. Rob. Rob."

Robin fought to hold onto this moment of consciousness with a groan.

"Rob – Oh, thank God. How ya doin'?"

"… Not too asterous."

"C-come again?"

"Not asterous. Aster – opposite of disaster," Robin breathed, tears involuntarily leaking from the edges of his eyelids.

"Makin' up words now – ya must be goin' de-delusional, buddy." The speedster's speech came out in a stuttering, slurred jumble of words.

"Nah, don't worry… I'm always like this. How about you?"

"H-hangin' in there."

"How are you still running? I can barely stay awake."

"Metahuman… If I didn't have good constitution, I woulda-woulda died real quick a long time ago. Take a lotta hits, run into a lotta things, got a killer metabolism – and n-not to mention puberty! Ha… What'd Flash say that one time? 'A racecar's only as good as its chassis'? Or something. Dunno what it means, but like…" Kid Flash was rambling, almost to himself. Probably to help himself stay awake. Stay sane.

"Are we still being chased?"

"I dunno – maybe? I didn't hear any engines when I slowed down a while back for a water break. Speaking of, here." One of the speedster's hands dropped it's hold on Robin's leg for a moment, something hard and round poked into Robin's face, and he took a long swig of the offered canteen of lukewarm water. It helped. A little.

"How long was I out?"

"No idea. Can't re-re-really tell time when I'm running and-and can't see my watch."

Robin swallowed with a dry mouth and throat. He felt so lightheaded that it was a good thing Kid Flash was holding onto him. Dehydration, along with poisoning from that gas. "How far to Phoenix? And a hospital?"

"Again, I dunno. No hands free. But you– can ya check the map on my phone?"

"Wouldn't help. I can't see much," Robin breathed, his limp form slumped against Kid Flash's back.

"Wonderful. Yeah… Look, dude." Kid Flash sounded shaky, uncertain. "I-I mean, I know you're trying to keep all this hush-hush? But it's – we're not in a good place, and I'm startin' to tap out here... I really… I gotta…" He sighed heavily. "I really gotta call Flash."

Robin frowned and rubbed his now-numb eyelids through his mask.

"But I need your okay, 'cause… 'Cause then it's all gonna be a thing… And-and-and Batman's for sure gonna f-f-find out, so…"

Despite his own declining physical condition and the reality of their circumstances, Robin still opened chapped lips to object. If Batman found out, it'd defeat the purpose of this whole mission. He really wanted to keep this under wraps, keep the existence of the Block and its contents a secret – otherwise, this might all have been for nothing, and–

And then he stopped himself.

He cleared his brain and started to rationalize, to look at the facts. Empirically, and objectively.

The facts about Kid Flash.

Kid Flash, who'd picked up the phone that morning, who'd said 'yes' to a huge ask out of the blue, who'd dropped everything to head straight to another state, who'd gone above and beyond what Robin had asked, who'd suffered the same poison attack Robin had and managed to pull off the extraction anyway. Who was now carrying him long-distance at personal expense, and – Robin shifted his foot and slightly tapped the backpack, verifying the Block was still in there – and still managed to hold onto the stolen data the whole time?

And then Kid Flash sounded almost defeated, apologetic in a simple – and Robin admitted, obvious – request for approval to ask for help. And wasn't that crazy? Kid Flash felt guilty, even after all the amazing things he'd done today. Heck, he was saving Robin's life, even though he was hurting just as much.

It was Robin who felt guilty. He'd already asked for too much from the teenage speedster. Now was no time for stubbornness. He sighed in resignation, knowing the right answer.

"Yeah. Make the call."

"You-you sure? 'Cause if it's important, I could–"

"I'm positive. And, thanks."

"A'ight. Okay. So, um, can ya do me a favor?" Kid Flash sucked in deep breaths, trying to catch his second wind while sprinting down a highway. "Can ya triple-tap one of my earpieces? It'll call Flash. Kinda like speed-dial."

"O…kay?" Robin managed to smirk as he blindly reached up his hands to feel around Kid Flash's spiky hair, finally finding and grabbing onto one of the lightning-bolt earpieces on the side of the speedster's head. Tapping it three times, he asked with an incredulous laugh, "So these zig-zags are like walkie-talkies?"

"Uh, yeah! What didja think they were for, aesthetic?" Wally huffed a laugh as well before stiffening as he listened. "It's ringing."

Barry Allen had been peering with one eye into a microscope for the past several minutes, straining his vision as he focused on the hair sample under the lens.

Finally satisfied with his observations, he leaned away from the instrument and jotted down some notes with a pen on a notebook nearby, then rose and stretched, his back popping as tension released from his shoulders.

It was a pretty slow day in the lab. Just him and resident coroner Leah, while the rest of the staff was out in the field or off-duty. He technically had the day off, too, but thought he'd stock up on hours for those inevitable missed ones whenever the city needed the Flash in the coming week.

Just as Barry made his way towards the coffee machine, his phone rang. Ah. Kid. Probably calling with some question or other…

"Hey, Kid, how's it going – What?"

Barry spun around suddenly, gripping his phone tightly with one hand as he almost dropped his empty coffee mug on the counter. Across the room, Leah jumped, eyes widening as Barry – cool, calm, collected, always slightly frumpled and tired-looking but ever-cheerful Barry Allen – looked shocked. And bewildered. And… afraid? There was definitely worry in those dark blue eyes.

"Okay, okay, I – look – Kid, just – just one sec." Putting his hand over the phone, Barry turned to Leah – the senior technician on duty and therefore his boss – and apologetically started to open his mouth.

Leah shook her head and waved him off quickly. "By all means, Allen – go. I'll cover for you when Richardson checks in."

Dr. Leah Bowman was not one to ask questions when it came to Barry's business. She just didn't give a fudge, as long as he kept doing the spectacular work he'd done to date, and as long as he made up his time later. Which he always did... though sometimes at three or four in the morning. It was a win-win arrangement for everybody, even if one of them was in the dark about what the other was up to when they suddenly left the lab during work hours. The middle-aged woman added with a slight smile, "And good luck with… whatever it is."

Barry hurriedly grabbed a few of his things and shrugged with a sheepish smile as he backed out through the double doors. "Thanks a million."

In the next half-second, Barry was out the lab's back door, in his suit, and six blocks down the street on the way to the city's Zeta-Beam. His phone connected to the Bluetooth in his earpiece, and he picked up the conversation with his boneheaded nephew. "What on earth are you even doing in Arizona, Kid? And why's Robin with you? Does Batman know–"

"Flash, long story short? We're poisoned, we're dehydrated, we've been chased halfway across a desert, and we're going to Phoenix. Can you meet us there?"

"I'm there."

"Oh. Wow. Right, Fastest Man Alive… Um, well we're gonna be coming in hot… P-pun intended."

"Eh, nice try. You all right, Kid? You don't sound so hot. Pun also intended." Barry paced in front of a Wal-Mart rubbing his head anxiously. It was really hot. Props to Kid for making it out there for what sounded like a long marathon of endurance running in these conditions, but his sidekick was no doubt overexerting himself.

"I'm fine, Fla–" The kid broke off coughing, a terrifying, wet and chunky, heaving cough that did not sound like the product of healthy lung function.

Barry pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to stave off waves of anxiety for his nephew. "Uh-huh."

"Look, five minutes, all right? … I see a sign for Phoenix Memorial Hospital."

"Okay, I'll see you guys soon." Barry hung up and sighed, turning to locate the hospital and get a medical team ready in the emergency room.

You're in big trouble, Kid. Stay safe.

Robin had passed out again. And this time, Wally was just about fit to join him.

They sped into Phoenix and followed the highway signs towards the nearest hospital before slowing to a jog. Wally scanned the streets for a good place to do something unpleasant-but-necessary before they got any closer to the hospital.

An alleyway? Ugh, fine.

Trembling from head to toe and on the verge of losing his grip on consciousness, Wally gingerly lay down Robin on the ground, along with the backpack, and spun out of his uniform until all he had on were his tighty-whities. Shoving the yellow uniform in a bag, he staggered over the Boy Wonder who lay sprawled out and oblivious on the ground.

His vision was swimming, and he stalled the inevitable by texting their location to his mentor through slitted eyes. "I r-really don't wanna do this, Robin. But, like. Civvies."

A motorcycle revved as it zoomed past their alleyway, and Wally ducked his head, plastering himself to the wall. He couldn't be sure their pursuers didn't have contacts in the city.

Wally grit his teeth. Why me?

But he knew he had to. Normally, medical care was a no-brainer for heroes, civvies or not. There was some patient confidentiality policy for them, or something. But neither of them could be seen like this right now: in uniform, far from their home cities, going for treatment at a hospital where medical records would be floating around. Not when they were being pursued by dangerous people who had it out for them. Their names couldn't be tied to their alter-egos, so…

I hope you'll forgive me for this.

Focusing on the task at hand, Wally started looking for some buttons or a zipper on Robin's uniform.

Barry followed his GPS to the alleyway in Kid's text, arriving to find a heck of a scene. A couple of unconscious adolescents stripped down to their knickers and a bulky, heavy backpack – stuffed with a massive hard drive, along with Robin and Kid Flash's uniforms.

The scrapes you get into, Kid. Honestly.

He shoved aside his questions and frustration and slung the backpack over his shoulder, gathered the boys in each arm, and raced them into the emergency room where help was waiting.

Wally woke up with a pained gasp, jolting against unseen restraints and hyperventilating into something covering his nose and mouth. His bleary eyes saw nothing but sharp white light and he shrunk back into what felt like a pillow beneath his head as waves of discomfort rolled over his body.

What? Where? Who?

Everything hurt. Inside and out. His heart was racing, and he was completely drenched in sweat. Another frantic attempt to move his arms and legs was futile – something was strapping him down.

Was I kidnapped? What about Robin? What–

"Easy, Kid." An approaching blurry silhouette and the familiar, soothing voice of his uncle reached Wally's senses, and he started to relax his struggles. "You're okay. You're in the ICU."

"Oh." Wally took some deep breaths and tried to crane his head to look down. "What's with the restraints?"

"You started vibrating a bit. They just wanted to make sure you didn't hurt yourself by buzzing yourself off the bed."

"Nice." Wally frowned, sitting back as exhaustion caught back up to him.

"That poison really did a number on you. Both of you."

"Robin's okay?"

"He'll be fine. Was syncopizing – fading in and out of consciousness – but fortunately that didn't turn into anything more serious." Barry crossed his arms and sat back in the chair by Wally's bed – a hospital arrangement the two of them were way too familiar with – and relayed the prognosis. "You both were just shy of getting full inhalation burns. You're getting IV rehydration to get some fluids and salts back in your shriveled up bodies, along with oxygenation to clear out what's left of that gas still in your respiratory systems – you might be sneezing out green for a few days. Some vomiting, abdominal pain, diarrhea, body weakness, shortness of breath. Blistering from some wicked sunburn. Some classic side effects of heat exhaustion. The works."

"Well, that's fun."

"The doctors say you'll both make a full recovery, to take it easy for at least a week or two. They're going to keep you here under observation for at least twenty-four more hours. You two arrived in similarly bad shape – that airborne poison alone was enough to totally do Robin in, but you managed to push your body almost to the point of organ shutdown. It's a wonder there's no permanent damage."

"… Yikes. So we got lucky."

"Exactly."

Wally could tell Barry wanted to unleash a storm of scolding but was holding back for his sake. "Sorry."

Barry let the apology hang in the air, before releasing a deep sigh and ruffling Wally's hair. "I'm not going to lecture you right now, Kid. Robin told me everything that happened. Despite the idiocy of the whole day, you did good. You got both Robin and yourself out of danger, you had the forethought to get supplies, you called when you could do so safely, and you surpassed some physical limits to get the job done. You pulled through for someone in need. I'm not just impressed; I'm very proud of you."

Wally managed a small smile. "Learned from the best."

"Flattery won't get you anywhere, Kid. We're going to have a long talk later. You always call me. Not when things go south, but from the very start." Barry wore a tired-looking frown on his face. "You know better than that."

"Right." Wally looked down and nodded, steam clouding his mask as he sighed. "I'm sorry."

"I really owe you one. Heck, I owe you two."

"Hey, don't mention it."

The two of them, Wally and Robin, were out of uniform, riding in the backseat of a cab, masks still on and hooked up to oxygen tanks in their laps. Uncle Barry rode up front with the driver, directing him to the STAR labs facility where Alfred was waiting with a couple of wheelchairs for them.

When their condition had improved back at the hospital and they were done giving police statements on the facility and the armed guards still gunning for them around the state, they were approved for release and discharged. Each wore hospital gowns, since they arrived without shirts, pants, or shoes.

Slumped in his seat beside Robin, Wally averted his gaze, trying not to stare at those slightly bloodshot, blue eyes in the face the other sidekick was so careful to guard. Secret IDs were no joke, to any hero, but especially to the secretive Batman and Robin – and who was Wally to violate that?

"Seriously. You saved my life, dude." Robin suddenly reached over and flicked Wally's shoulder, and Wally turned to him quizzically. Robin seemed to debate something before asking hesitantly, "Hey… you want to meet up this weekend? Gotham or Central City, your choice – we could get pizza, maybe?"

A little floored at the offer, Wally glanced at the back of the driver's head and mouthed, In civvies?

Robin nodded. "Yeah. Not like we'll be doing anything else besides recovering. Why not?" Robin flashed a mischievous grin that Wally mirrored with one of his own. Sucking in a deep breath, the blue-eyed boy stuck out a hand to Wally. "Richard Grayson. But call me Dick."

Wally would later say he felt honored to get introduced to the guy behind the mask, the boy behind the Boy Wonder. That as he shook the hand of Robin, he did so with grace and maturity at this rare privilege.

But in reality, he was living in his own truth. And the guy's name was just ridiculous.

"Pfft– Dick? Your name is Dick?" Wally snickered behind his oxygen mask, and the other boy made the effort to kick him sideways in the shin. "Ow–sorry, sorry! I'm Wally. Wally West. But… I mean, you knew that. Duh." They pulled up to the labs just then, and Barry and Alfred opened the doors of the cab, helping the boys into a pair of wheelchairs. The laboratory was dimly lit and empty, all the STAR employees having gone home for the day.

Dick looked back at him, gears turning behind that piercing blue gaze. "You know, you're pretty cool, Wally." Alfred cleared his throat, and Dick shrugged. "Got to go – I'll text you."

"Right. You've got my number. Somehow." Wally quirked a smile.

"Take it easy," said Barry to the boy and his butler, "and tell Bruce I say hi."

"Will do. Thanks, Mr. Allen. For everything."

As Dick waved and they disappeared into the glowing portal of the Zeta-Beam, Barry entered Central City as the next destination in the teleporter's computer.

Meanwhile, Wally stewed on that brief exchange, before nearly leaping out of the wheelchair as it dawned on him. "Wait – Richard Grayson… I've heard that name before. And Bruce… maybe... Bruce… No. Way."

Barry raised an eyebrow at him, smirking. "For a genius, sure took you long enough."

"No way. No way. Bruce Wayne? Are you kidding me?"

"Well, looks like you're gonna have to get a new clearance level." Barry sighed yet again that day, rubbing the back of his neck as he was prone to do. "I'll set up an appointment at the Hall of Justice and a background check–"

"Bruce Wayne is Batman. Batman is Bruce Wayne. And… Richard Grayson is Robin! And I'm friends with him!" Wally's eyes were practically glowing neon green as his brain raced through the possibilities. "This changes everyth–"

"Kid?"

"Right."

"Just… cool it," Barry said with a laugh.

"Sorry."

"Let's go home. And you're grounded."

"Yeah, I figured."

BONUS.

Wally: hey, quick question

Dick: Yeah?

Wally: just realized
Wally: you never told me what was so special about that block
Wally: 1. what is it?
Wally: 2. why'd you have to get it alone?
Wally: and 3. was it worth all the trouble?

Dick: …
Dick: 1. That's classified.
Dick: 2. Also top-secret.
Dick: 3. Definitely.

Wally: that's not fair

Dick: Hey, what can I say?
Dick: It's a mystery. I'm mysterious.

Wally: you're really not going to tell me?

Dick: …
Dick: Ask me in about twenty years.
Dick: Just kidding.
Dick: Okay – keep this on the down-low, all right?

Wally: lips are sealed

Dick: It's data – very valuable, very dangerous.
Dick: I found out about it by accident and wanted to learn more.

Wally: why not tell batman at first?

Dick: Because it involves Batman.

Wally: oooooo

Dick: The thing is – it's a map.
Dick: But not any kind of map. It's a 3-D model, kind of like Google Earth.
Dick: It marks things like the Zeta-Beams and various heroes and their cities on Earth.
Dick: But it's not our Earth.
Dick: It's an Earth like a decade or two into the future.

Wally: wait, what?
Wally: what do you mean?

Dick: I mean, the buildings look totally different.
Dick: The tech looks way too advanced.

Wally: are there hover cars?

Dick: … Yeah, sort of?

Wally: awesome

Dick: Anyway, I zoomed in on Gotham and found me and Bats – in uniform.
Dick: Except it wasn't... Bats. I could tell.

Wally: no?

Dick: Well…
Dick: I was Batman.
Dick: The Robin was somebody else.

Wally: hold the phone
Wally: that raises so many questions

Dick: Exactly.
Dick: I had to find out more, right?
Dick: But I didn't want Bats to know because…
Dick: Well, it's just a projection.
Dick: It's not a fortune cookie.
Dick: But to think I replace Bruce and don the mantle?

Wally: pretty freaky stuff
Wally: and kinda freaky that those randos in AZ were projecting it in the first place

Dick: My thoughts exactly.

Wally: ok quick question
Wally: not sure I wanna know, but
Wally: what do you see in central city?
Wally: are barry and i there?

Dick: …
Dick: Barry's there, sort of.
Dick: And Kid Flash is there.
Dick: It's you two, but not really…
Dick: They're speedsters, but they look like a couple of glitches.

Wally: glitches?

Dick: Like I can't tell who – or what – they are.
Dick: They keep blinking in and out, and keep changing faces between two or three people.

Wally: now that's super freaky

Dick: Again, it's just a projection.
Dick: Probably doesn't mean anything.

Wally: right
Wally: probably means nothing

Dick: Gotta go – Bruce and I have to have a Big Talk(TM).

Wally: yikes
Wally: good luck

Dick: We still on for Saturday?

Wally: you got it!

A.N. And the rest is history!

A few notes: This chapter turned out a lot longer than I expected – since I usually try to keep these one-shots to around 5K words. But again, it's just a warmup after a long time out of the writing game. End result might have turned out a little rough around the edges, less streamlined than I'd like, but enough procrastinating!

For the premise, I always wondered how Kid Flash and Robin got to be BFFs, and I figured that given their very different backgrounds and tendencies, it'd take a while for them to grow on each other! This was an imagining of the first time they really started to "bond" through adversity – summer 2007, as a personal headcanon. And also an early incident where they started operating independently from their mentors – not just as "sidekicks", but as heroes in their own right. Fun to think about!

I'm trying to get a little more realistic with the finer details of hero-ing and medical complications. I found this great blog resource for writers looking to stay accurate and realistic with health and medical stuff, so if you want, check out ScriptMedic!

Many thanks to the dozens of people who messaged me over the past year and a half. You don't know how much it means to me, knowing that there are still people who read these stories and are still waiting for more. Your encouragement and patience is incredible, and I'm super grateful for Readers Like You.

As an update on Outlier, I've been dabbling with Chapter 20 ("Contingent") throughout the past year and a half. It's in outline stage, a few scenes nailed out. So after this one-shot goes up, I'll get back to that and really try to push it out by the end of August. I've made so many promises on release dates to so many of you through the many months that I've been working on it, and I've broken every single one of those. For that, I sincerely apologize. And I'm going to really work harder on getting a system and a routine going, write at least an hour a day, etc. Fingers crossed that I can get to posting something at a weekly rate by the end of the year.

And of course, we've all got YJ Season 3 to look forward to in 2018. So that's even more motivation to get the Outlier story/series back on track!

Anyway, thanks for reading! Feel free to drop a review if you feel like it, and to pitch ideas for the remaining chapters in this little series! I've got plenty of ideas, but I'm always open to more!

Take care. :)

Yours,

Iron Woobie