When the league was doing nothing, they stood by doing nothing. Unaware of what their friend was going through. Until they awoke to his own vision.

Should I die before I say goodbye, know I've been human. I know the pain. Mine just lasts a bit longer. Shorter in your eyes. But I have lived forever, and reached its end on countless occasions. I don't think I'm going to be here much longer. I've always been faster. Always been first. Why not win this race too?

-.-

The Watchtower was quiet. Though that was expected with Flash's vacation and no known crisis or end of the world. A simple day. For the league and its founders.

Earth was another story as forensic scientists were doing a thorough scan of the lab area as Emergency vehicle drivers took one of their own to the hospital. No one was sure of what happened. One minute he was fine. The next minute his body was moving spastically and he fell onto the floor. Scientists there were searching for anything that could have caused it. They would find out what happened. For Wally.

He lay motionless in the vehicle as he was taken to the hospital. Reporters were already showing up. It was going to be a long day.

"Can anyone tell us what happened?" asked on reporter. The head scientist walked up.

"One of our scientists seems to have had a seizure," he said picking his words carefully. Though the reporters continued bombarding him with questions.

-.-

Upon arriving at the hospital, the EMT's ran him inside. His heart beat was slowing down. They were losing him. An oxygen mask was placed over his mouth to keep him breathing.

He was placed in a sterile white room for the doctors to work to save his life. They said simply, he had fallen into a coma. How? They didn't know. But they would do what they could to save him. A young forensic scientist of Central City. Wallace West.

-.-

"Any one here from Flash?" Shayera asked nonchalantly. One of them always got a call from Flash when he wasn't in. He had a way of annoying people even when he wasn't there. Sometimes without even talking or doing anything to them. Knowing he could in the blink of an eye could be annoying.

"No," said John, followed by a round of people saying no and a grunt from Batman that could be heard as no.

"Odd. Normally he'd call," said Shayera. Her nervousness could be seen as her feathers puffed out. John put his hand on her shoulder.

"Probably ate too much and is now sleeping it off," he joked. He would never sleep from eating too much. That would be impossible. He ate enough to feed an entire third world country.

"Yeah. I'm sure he's fine," said Superman. Diana nodded her head. J'onn however seemed distant. Like he was listening to something. Or sleeping. A strange Martian habit. Or part of his lifestyle. They left going their separate ways, Superman to work, John to Oa, and Shayera to the monitors. J'onn stood still. He was listening to the faint and weak voice calling out.

…help…please…

J'onn knew that voice. He knew it as a happy and forgiving voice. Flash. But the voice was weak. Sick. Almost dying even.

"One to earth," he said walking into a vacant Zeta beam, "Central City."

-.-

He was hooked up to a heart monitor. An IV was pumping nutrients into his body. Water was also being sent into his blood stream. But he lay motionless. His skin grew colder. His body clammy. His breath grew weaker. He was on the last stretch.

-.-

Batman was looking through the league's medical records. He was convinced (blackmailed) by Flash and Nightwing to hold a party for the anniversary of the Justice League. He had to make sure that Alfred didn't cook anything that might kill a member of the league.

So far there were peanut allergies, milk allergies, both of which could easily be marked or warned for those with the allergies. He saw Flash's file and sighed. He told Alfred he'd go through them all (and Alfred was sometimes worse than the Joker).

He opened it up. Looking over it, he was surprised at what he was seeing. He was allergic?

-.-

J'onn listened for Flash all around Central until he came to a hospital. He transformed to look like a civilian and walked inside.

"Excuse me," he said walking up to a nurse, "I was wondering if you had seen a red haired man come in here. Wally West?"

The nurse looked at him with sad eyes.

"He hasn't come out of his coma sir," she said. His eyes widened a bit.

"May I see him?"

"Well… For a few minutes. He's in room 311. Third door on your right," she said pointing down the left hall. He walked down there quickly. He walked into the room and saw the pale and uncharacteristically still speedster. He walked over and touched his hand. It was cool with lingering death. J'onn focused on Wally's mind. Hoping to drag him out of his coma.

Hey J'onn.

He entered Wally's mind quickly. A void of nothingness. Silence.

"J'onn?"

He turned around. Behind him was a pale and almost transparent Wally.

"Wally. You need to try and wake up. You are…"

"Winning the race," he said.

"Excuse me?"

"I've always been faster. I always win the race. Why not this race too?"

A small smile came to the fading spirit's face.

"We won't let you die. Doctors are trying to save you."

"They won't find the answer. I think my last supper is what's doing me in. My just desert I guess," he said.

"What do you mean?"

"It's too late. I'm sure that it'll kill me soon enough. And here I thought my metabolism would've taken care of that problem."

He let out a full grin.

"Pretty pathetic really. Having that stupid allergy."

-.-

Batman reread the paper. Sure enough. He was allergic to beets. Apparently he had a horrible gag reflex if he smelt them. But eating them would leave him unconscious for a good long while. And as a speedster, being out cold could kill him with out proper doctors.

-.-

"I do not understand," J'onn said. Wally sighed.

"J'onn. It's okay. My body doesn't take this very well. I'll probably die. They don't know how to care for a speedster. And besides… Better they don't know who I am. Otherwise other members of the league could be in trouble."

J'onn left his mind. He changed form to look like a doctor. He was aware of medical procedures on humans. And he was aware of a speedster's metabolism. He hooked up another IV onto his other arm and more water. More nutrients, the higher chance of survival. He watched as the color began to return to Wally's face. His breaths were deeper and more regular. Even his pinkie seemed to be happy as it twitched. He was going to make it.

And only a few minutes later his eyes fluttered open. Bright green eyes examined the hospital room.

"Is this what it's like being dead?" he asked.

"You are very much alive Wally," J'onn said denying his friend's thought of death. Wally smiled.

"Good. Cause my stomach is killing me," he joked.

"Just how did you get your reaction?" J'onn asked. Wally looked away.

"Group potluck. Kind of had some of everything. Guessing someone used beets."

"…How can you be so calm? You could have died," J'onn said.

"I have as much chance dying out there as I do choking on food. And besides, no one makes it out of life, alive."

"You are strange."

"Strange as they come!" he laughed. J'onn frowned. How long before the headache that is called the truth runs rampant over the Watchtower followed by an extreme case of over protectiveness? Not long.

I is strange. I is using bad grammer. I is hoping for Review. Is you going to?