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Wally turned over groggily, his bleary mind still thick with sleep as he flung his arm over to try to grab for his blanket. However, his arm didn't hit the warm comfort of his bedspread, but instead sank into a pool of an insanely cold powdery substance. The speedster gasped wildly, the hope of sleeping in quickly disregarded as he forced his heavy eyelids open.

Early morning sun was drifting over snow covered scene of rural trees and snowy hills of fresh snow that rolled on endlessly into the horizon.

Wally blinked in confusion at the mass amount of snow, humongous drifts towering high above his head, and the occasional rain of little flakes of snow that would be blown from the drifts by a chilly wind that sunk through his skin as surely as it blew through the barren trees.

This wasn't wear he had gone to bed.

In fact, he was the only fleck of color in this winter wasteland – bright red Flash pajama pants. And that was it. If he wasn't a speedster, and his blood didn't pump faster than an average person's, then he was sure he'd be suffering from hypothermia or something, and as it was he was starting to shiver. But that was his logical part of his mind, and the rest of it was clouded by sleep, as he'd only been up long enough to lazily shift himself into a sitting position, which he hadn't moved from. Snow had begun to pile up over his knees again already, and Wally shook his orange hair madly as he forced himself into a standing position, trying to rid himself of the snow that clung to him. Once he'd done that, he just stared and stood at the white nothingness and vast expanse of tree line.

"Hello?" He asked the air, but he didn't really expect an answer. However, it still felt empty when no one answered back.

The redhead shivered again, hugging himself tightly to keep in the body heat he was able to produce. Thank goodness he'd eaten a big dinner, or he'd be wiped.

That's when Wally's eyes widened. He did feel low on fuel. But that was impossible unless he'd run here…

The teen ground his teeth in frustration.

"I thought I'd kicked that habit!" Wally told the white, nothing filled, world around him, just to fill the space. He hadn't been a sleepwalker since he was ten. Wally's lips twitched a little at a corny joke that flickered in his mind, Well, I'm not a sleepwalker. I've graduated to sleeprunning now.

"Uncle Barry's gonna kill me." Wally proclaimed, and then reached for his ear. He was suddenly grateful he'd taken Rob's advice and started to sleep with a communicator in his ear (something that had been recommended after both had been kidnapped…multiple times.)

"Hey, Uncle Barry? You up?" Wally asked, having switched to his Uncle frequency. He winced at the sudden torrent of words that hit him.

"Wally? Wally! Where are you?" Barry flung out at him, "We've been worried sick! You know it's eight in the morning, right? Me and Iris have been running around the city! We were about to call in the League!"

" What? No! You didn't, did you?" Wally asked, guilt from worrying his uncle and aunt taking back seat to the thought of the League knowing about his, uh, habit. His cheeks turned a deep shade of red when he began to wonder what would happen if Artemis found out. He'd never hear the end of it!

"No, not yet." Barry informed him before his voice got serious again, which was a strange tone to be taken with his Uncle's usually playful voice, "Now where are you? What happened? Are you okay? Are you in danger?" Barry's words blurred into superspeed, which was fine with Wally, but he knew Iris would be listening in and would be stumped by the sudden change in pace.

"Uh, I'm somewhere snowy, Alaska, or Canada or something like that. Maybe even the Arctic." Wally started, his voice hesitant, "And I'm fine, only a little hungry. But, I think I might have started sleepwalking again. Well, sleeprunning."

"Sleeprunning?" Barry asked, his voice suddenly dropping the stern pitch and instead turning into worry tinged with curiosity.

"Well…I just woke up here." Wally said, and shivered again, "I-It's pretty chilly. Think you can track my signal or something? Tell me where I am or something so I can run home?" Wally suggested.

"Just a second," Barry assured, and Wally could sense the immediate worry had left his uncle. Though, long-term, he was sure he'd be asked about this again…a lot.

(Three Days Later)

An angry voice greeted his slumbering ears, and suddenly Wally felt the sharp end of a broom start to prod him.

"Wha-?" Wally groaned out, stretching, when suddenly he felt himself falling and colliding with a hardwood floor.

He pushed himself over, and found himself staring at a rather tall man with tanner skin, jet black hair and a faint goatee. The man began chiding him again, but Wally frowned when he realized the guy wasn't speaking any English. Wally bit his lip, guessing it was Chinese. Looking past the man, Wally stood up and glanced around. He looked like he was in a restaurant, judging by the menu hanging on the wall over by a register. At least he thought it was a menu. He couldn't read a word of it.

Wally turned back to the man apologetically, frustrated with himself as soon as he pieced it together. Running. He'd been sleeprunning again.

"Listen, I'm sorry," Wally said politely to the guy, who had given up trying to speak to the intruder who'd fallen asleep on one of the tables and was now just pointing to the door in the universal gesture for leave. Wally frowned dejectedly, wishing he could break some language barrier and apologize, but he was still a little groggy and he couldn't find a point to it.

"Sorry," he said again, not blaming the guy as he walked out the door and put his hand to his ear and onto his communicator.

"Uh, Barry? Yeah…You hungry for Chinese food?"

Iris and Barry were watching him worriedly, a look he'd learned well in the past week. Ever since he'd fist woken up in the Northern regions of Canada, he'd visited the coasts of Africa, Australia's famed outback, and now China. Wally had started sleeping in a clean set of clothes and a light jacket so he wouldn't be a shirtless mess in case he woke up somewhere in public. His sleepwalking was getting bad, and four days of it was rather troubling.

Wally shifted in his seat, shoving a giant wad of noodles into his mouth.

"Wally, I think we need to talk about this." Iris stated firmly.

"Talk about what, exactly?" Wally asked through a mouthaful of noodles, though he was pretty sure he knew what Iris was talking about. She wanted to talk about his sleepwalking. That was the last thing he wanted to talk about. Earlier, Iris had suggested peer mediation, but Wally had put his foot down. He couldn't even begin to imagine what Artemis would be able to do with something like that. Or Robin. Or anyone for that matter.

"The fact that you've woken up on a different continent every time you've gone to bed this past week. It's worrying, Kiddo." Barry reasoned, which would have sounded much more serious had he not sloshed out the words through his own mouthful of food.

"It's not that bad." Wally grumbled, seeing he wasn't going to avoid this conversation. He slumped backwards into his chair.

"Wally, this morning I had to run over to China. We're having Chinese for breakfast." Barry pointed out.

"It's not like it's affecting anything!" Wally pouted.

"Yesterday Cold hit you with his ice gun."

"Big whoop."

"After he tripped you."

Wally looked down in embarrassment, "Well…he has huge feet." He muttered quietly.

Barry exchanged a look of confidence with Iris, as though showcasing his infallible argument. Wally caught the look and he went back on defense, "I'll work on it!"

"That's what you said in Canada, eh?" Barry reminded him, and Wally seemed to wither a little in his seat.

"Honey, this isn't an attack. We're not making fun of you," Iris pointed out in that mom-ish way of hers, "We're just worried about it, that's all."

"I know, I know." Wally griped, his face hot with embarrassment, "But I don't know how to just quit!"

Barry was silent for a moment. Iris followed her husband's lead. And so did Wally.

"…What if we closed the door? And locked it?" Barry suggested to the room.

"That's how they have been." Iris pointed out kindly.

"Well, we're not going to build him a dungeon and chain him to the floor." Barry replied.

"Wait! That gives me an idea!" Wally beamed up after a moment.

Barry and Iris exchanged another look, though this one was filled not with confidence, but uncertainty.

"Geez, Barry, not so tight!" Wally nagged, the ropes squeezing hurtfully around his waist.

This was Wally's plan. To tie himself to the bed so he couldn't sleepwalk his way to over to another country again tonight. They'd already tied his feet to the bed post and bound another roped over his chest, securing his arms.

Barry loosened the bindings a little and started tying them together.

"Are you positive you don't want me to just…lock the door or something?" Barry asked carefully.

Wally paused, wishing he had thought of that earlier.

"…Barry, please just turn the light off and close the door."

Barry smiled at Wally's tone and then stood up, still eyeing the restraints warily.

"Okay. I'll untie you in the morning."

"Thanks." Wally mumbled, wriggling beneath his rope restraints. Then the lights went off and the door closed, a soft chink sounding directly afterwards.

Author's Note: This won't be very long. I saw this prompt and well…plot bunnies are unforgiving. I'm guessing a minimum of two chapters or a maximum of four. Please review! :D