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( 1 )

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The last thing Superboy remembered about seeing Kid Flash last was the speedster taking a tumble onto the floor outside the bathroom, sprawled out of his back and clutching at his bleeding face when Superboy accidentally knocked the bathroom door clear out of the wall and into his broken nose.

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The last thing Aqualad remembered last was treating that broken nose, though the other boy insisted in the medical sector with a ridiculously confident grin that he could heal on his own just fine.

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Artemis remembered training — or if preferring to accurately call it target practice — and focusing all of that drive to hit the cocky little target as she aimed her book bag for the back of his red head.

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The last time Roy saw him was when Artemis had been introduced to the team.

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Robin remembered fighting heatedly with him over something stupid — the results of a videogame score or maybe even some harsh teasing about Wally's failed advances once again on M'gann that afternoon— two hours before the League called in, before reports about a possible kidnapping, before panic set in.

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( 2 )

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Wally couldn't get his body to move, let alone remember how he ended up in this room. His restraints were

like iron and his limbs were… floaty. Oh, drugs, oh, definitely. From his position propped up against the wall (white) directly across from the sliding, soundless door (white), he stared up dizzily at the ceiling lights (florescent and white). The bad guys needed a better interior designer. Like whoa.

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"…What do you mean 'missing'?" The eyes of Batman's cowl narrowed pointedly as his protégé asked this loudly. The rest of Young Justice shifted uneasily as an unacknowledged staring match between the massive, dark figure on the monitor and Robin started.

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This place gave him the willies. Major willies. His legs were cramping from the restraints (surprise, surprise, they were white) and his bruised wrists fastened behind him. No clock. Can't tell how long he had been in here. And he was sure if there had been a clock, it would have been white too. The hell?

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"Unless anyone on this team has seen or heard from Kid Flash in the last forty-eight hours, the person who has spoken with him last was Flash and at the location of Flash's home. Kid Flash was seen inside the house around eight pm before he went into outside to throw out a trash bag."

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The drugs kicked in full-force and Wally slide further down with his back to the thin, satiny feel of wall, slumping, groaning. Which direction was the ceiling and floor again? Up or down? He couldn't tell.

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"So he was kidnapped," Aqualad said, reiterating, dulled in his expression.

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He was even in dressed in white. When had the bad guys taken in his clothes…?…and… Wally's head throbbed harder, his eyes slowly rolling backwards in their sockets… why was everything…

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"The League has been sent out. We're doing all we can."

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so bright…?…so…white…?…

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"Not enough," Robin muttered, as the monitor darkened with the cut transmission, "We're going out to look too." Behind him, Superboy and M'gann nodded decisively. Artemis's hands gripped around her bow, hard enough to break it in two if she wished to. Aqualad shut off the monitor in the lobby silently, grimly.

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( 3 )

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The white room.

Sometimes he would see it.

Sometimes he would only see (white) the sterile blindfold (white) when he was given food (white) and or using the toilet (white) inside the room (white).

But it was white (white).

Always white (white).

Always (white).

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One time… he thought… he might have tried to remove the one-piece uniform. That captured his arms and his fingers in durable (white) fabric. That encased them. Trapped them. Like he was. Trapped.

Given the chance, if his arms were free, his fingernails would have dug straight into his flesh.

Just see color.

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One time… he bit down on his tongue hard enough to taste something filling his mouth as slick and metallic and foreign. He spat something warm and fluid onto the floor and realized that the blindfold had been in place.

When it was removed later, the floor (white) had already been cleared of the mess.

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There was always…someone. Someone who fed him. Someone who never touched him, talked to him, and walked soundless— with padded (white) shoes if he could see them— as if they were never there in the first place.

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His eyes hurt. From the light (white). The headaches were something that was always there. Keeping him company. His wrists were free from their restraints. But that had been… how long ago…

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Screaming had been something he had forgotten to do. If no one would answer… what was the point?

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He didn't dream. Dreaming required sleeping. And sleeping… didn't come easy…

If he dreamed… he might hear noises. Any noises. See… color. Faces.

He thought he was dreaming… the day the hidden, sliding door (white) noisily opened.

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( 4 )

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"The psychological damage is… too extreme."

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Down the adjacent hallway of the hideout, Superboy rammed his forehead solidly against a guard's head, and the disarmed guard shrank into himself on the ground, shrieking in agony, when he was dropped.

Robin sprinted by, yelling over the cries, "I've tracked the signature of the room! Find everyone else!" He didn't bother stopping to check if Superboy did was he was told, panting, skidding to a stop to what appeared to be an untouched, unquestioned-of-its-particular-existence, gray wall. His readings were blaring.

Sweating, daring to hope, Robin worked his fingers furiously over his miniature, glowing keyboard.

Comeoncomeoncomeoncomeon…

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"There's a high probability that Kid Flash was kept in that room the entire time he has been missing."

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"—Yes!" The gears in the hidden door made a frenzied, steely noise as it pushed and ground itself open. Robin leaped into his destination, tucking and rolling, and stood upright, looking wildly around.

…No one.

The room was empty.

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"This is not a situation that can be healed quickly. Or even completely at this point."

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No… wait

…He had almost missed him.

His best friend blended perfectly into the bare, white room with how sickly pale his skin on his face was. Wally's hair had been tucked away into the one-piece uniform that covered every inch of him. He had not moved, not even once, since he heard Robin enter, clomping in his steel-toed boots.

"…" Robin stooped down in front of him, reaching out to undo the white blindfold over Wally's eyes. His eyes were tightly shut when Robin did. As if dreading something to come.

"Who… are you?" Wally's lips barely parted to form words. "What…" A chill ran through Robin. "am… I?"

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"We are still investigating who was behind this. But it is important to keep in mind that he hasn't seen any of you in almost a year. Or any other human being for that matter. He's not going to be all there."

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Robin's throat clenched. "Wally…" he whispered, "It's me… Dick… Can you open your eyes for me?"

Eyelashes fluttered apart. Bit by bit.

The whites of Wally's eyes were tinted yellow and bloodshot. A few seconds passed by and they widened impossibly big before the sixteen-year-old vomited onto the floor loudly.

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"But everyone's hard work has paid off. We're all very fortunate that he is still alive."

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( 5 )

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He slept. It was the people who saved him injected into his arm after he stopped throwing up. It made him sleep for a long time. He slept with his white blindfold on. The colors… they hurt.

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They told him that this 'Mount Justice' was where he lived. That he was 'Wally'. They told him he didn't remember because of 'amnesia'. He asked if that tickled. They laughed. He didn't know why.

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The man in the bat costume was very… nice… to him, though other people seemed to avoid him. Another man, a man in a skin-tight red costume, stood a good distance away from where they were and slipped his headwear back, his bright blond bangs tumbling down and brushing his face.

"Wally? Do you know who this is?" The same man with the bat costume asked him patiently.

"…" His green eyes squinted a little. "No," he admitted finally, and then added guiltily, "sorry."

The blond man smiled at him from across the lobby, fixing his cowl.

"…Don't worry about it, kiddo. You'll be back to your old self someday soon. Just take your time."

And it was… sad.

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He felt a little useless. He apparently was this… 'superhero' of some kind… like the people who saved him and… he didn't even what kind of 'powers' he had. Not that he was allowed to find it. They told him that he could hurt himself without the right control. It just baffled him when he found himself somewhere in middle southeast Europe instead of the downstairs kitchen — where he was originally heading.

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The first time since he had been imprisoned, he felt the morning grass beneath his bare feet. He wiggled his toes against the feeling of it so cool and scratchy, and began to cry heavily.

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( 6 )

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The rest of Wally's teammates were careful around him.

He still didn't not remember who was, who they were, and sometimes… where he was at the time. It was like watching a confused and lost child wander around, amazed at his unfamiliar surroundings. It was almost unbearable for some of them to see that drastic change in attitude from what they already knew about him.

Superboy tried to keep conversation short with him or risk confusing him more. Aqualad offered simple and smiling explanations to his questions. M'gann made him burnt cookies, imagining that it might jog his memory, and proven disappointed when he rejected them, shoving his half-eaten one away, his freckled face contorting in revulsion. Artemis keeps Superboy's tactic in mind, even though torn by it.

Even Red Arrow stopped by briefly, unsure about how to approach Wally, and becoming livid once he learned that the person responsible had not been caught by the Justice League.

And Robin… just kept trying.

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"Feel like video games, Wally? I've got 'Silent Hill'. I know how much you freak out over it."

The other boy shrugged, gazing blankly at the dark screen of the television but not interested in what he was seeing. "…I might not know how to play. That wouldn't be fun for you, would it?"

Robin grinned. "Taught you how to play last time." The acrobat patted an empty spot beside him on the floor, clicking a few buttons on his electric green controller, grin still in place. "Come on. Let's go."

"…I don't think I like video games." Wally rose to his feet off the couch, heading for the elevators.

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On the second floor was where Robin heard the blood-curdling screaming. But he could only see M'gann, pinning a horrified stare at the closed bathroom door, and then at her shorter teammate as he raced over.

"What the heck is going on?!" he demanded, and then recognized who was screaming behind the door. His hands tugged around the doorknob as it turned loosely but did not open. "…Wally!"

She was trembling. Her hands. Her lips. "I… just shut the bathroom door. I didn't…"

"Wally," Robin yelled over the screaming, and what sounded like fingernails clawing against the other side, "Listen to me! I need you to turn the knob! It opens from the inside!" He tried again with no avail, heart pounding as the screams increased in volume, "He's leaning on the door… I can't…"

"S-should I phase him from the bathroom?" M'gann asked frantically.

"…He'll have a heart attack," Robin said after a moment, running his hands through his hair, flustered, "Wally, please!" Surprising them both, the bathroom door burst open and the red-haired boy crawled over the threshold, until he reached the corridor wall and pressed his right shoulder flat to it, gasping. Snot and tears shone on his face. His fingernails and fingertips were bleeding badly by the looks of it.

When Robin crouched down by him, touching his shoulder, Wally flinched away, gasping harder.

"You need to calm down. You're hyperventilating," the younger boy told him gently, fiddling with his utility belt, "…Don't pass out of me, dude. Do you need a rebreather?"

Wally's teary green eyes glanced over at him. He latched onto Robin's hoodie for support and buried his face into the fleece material, arms clasping needy around him.

"I'm so sorry," M'gann whispered to them both.

"It's fine. He's going to fine." Robin said automatically, returning the hug around the other boy. "…Did you know he's been sleeping on the roof since he's gotten back?"

"…The roof?"

"It's the most open place he can probably think of." He shook his head. "After being what he's been through with a closed room… I would want to do the same thing."

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( 7 )

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One Wednesday lunch, Artemis came into the kitchen to see Robin perched on a stool, drinking something steaming from a coffee cup, and Wally blinking rapidly as he gazed into the fridge.

"What's the matter?"

He frowned. "I still have trouble with colors." Wally closed the fridge door decidedly and she reopened it to fish out something in a small, blue container, popping it open in a corner and sniffing it cautiously.

"Sucks."

"Tell me about it," Wally replied with a goofy look. She closed the container.

Did… he…?

Artemis hesitated a moment then jutted a hip, placing a hand on it.

"You're a jackass," she stated seriously, blandly.

Robin almost choked on his next sip of tea, glancing up at the scene enfolding.

Wally's eyebrows lowered confused. "…what?"

"And your pick-up lines are cheesy. You don't know the difference between 'yes' and 'no' when it comes to girls, and you have no taste in music. I mean, Hawthorne Heights? Really?"

"…" The red-haired boy didn't look like he knew what to say.

But Robin caught on to what she was planning out.

He set down his cup, smiling. "Wally, I saw your English homework yesterday and composition skills are—" Robin jabbed his thumb upside down, blowing a raspberry at him.

Wally's freckled cheeks darkened angrily. "—What the frick do you know, man!?"

"You'll never be able to reach the speed of light. Not even with all the Speed Force in the universe."

Artemis joined in again. "And what is with those ridiculous ear pieces on your costume? Tacky."

The older boy threw up his arms, fuming. "What is this? Pick On A Speedster Day!?"

Robin and Artemis grinned eagerly at each other. "What did you just call yourself?" Robin asked.

"A speedster…" Wally said slowly, his green eyes clouded, "I'm a speedster. I'm…"

"What do you remember?"

"…Everything. I think…" One of his hands touched his chest, the other on his ribs. "…I'm all here. All… Wally West. Aren't I? " Robin's grin couldn't get any wider. Artemis made a relieved noise.

"Good to have you back, man." He clapped a stunned but gladdened Wally on the back.

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"Thinking about sleeping in your own bedroom tonight?"

Wally nodded, his hand gripping the knob, his knuckles whitening.

"…I'm not going to be hurt. I just have to keep telling myself that," he murmured.

"It takes time," Robin said, calmly. "You don't have to push it."

"I can do it," the older boy insisted, eyes softening, "Thanks for… pretty much everything, Rob."

Robin snorted. "I don't do good night kisses."

"…Shut up." Wally scowled and closed his bedroom door to the other unruffled boy. A minute later, he reopened the door, laughing weakly, a little panicked, "…Okay, maybe I'll just leave it open a crack."

"Like I said," Robin said, turning at the heel. "…Just warn someone if you do go up on the roof."

"…I'll text you. And then keep you up all night with weather updates every five minutes."

"Pffft. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

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( 8 )

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The super computer in front of the two Justice League members began pulled up several, blue-glowing files and an enlarged image of a scrawny, dark-haired man with crooked lenses.

"It turns out the person who had taken Kid Flash has been notorious for running experiments on children. Mostly psychological, but a lot of his experiments were medical." In front of the three keyboards, Batman clicked something on the second one, and the image popped away. "His facilities have been traced back and shut down. They've just apprehended him outside Coast City."

"…I don't think I want to tell him," Flash declared, almost too faintly to hear.

Batman cleared his throat. "It looks like you don't have to," he brought up, back to Flash. The older man glanced around as purposeful footsteps fell behind him.

"Wally…" Flash pushed back his cowl, shocked. "How long have you…?"

"Uncle Barry… it's okay." Wally's green eyes stared up steely at the files. "…He's not worth it."

"How are you feeling, kiddo?"

"…" He took a moment to answer, rubbing his face into his hands. "It gets easier every day…? Especially with everyone helping me." Wally looked back up meekly. "…I'm sorry I didn't remember you. That was… shitty." From nearby, Batman made a disapproving grunt at his language.

"You couldn't help it."

Wally protested, "I still—" and clammed up when Flash hugged him suddenly, warmly.

"…When you disappeared that night, I almost thought it was for good…"

The younger hugged him back, saying embarrassed and a little quivery himself, "…Don't start crying in front of Batman." A light punch was placed on Wally's bicep.

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YJ isn't mine. THE SUMMARY COMES FROM THE PROMPT I FILLED BACK IN 2011 ON YJ-ANON-MEME, BUT NEVER PUBLISHED ON FFN OR AO3.

Today marks my 14th anniversary of having this account and publishing my fics. That's... 14 years, guys. Holy crap. I was trying to think of what to share with you all today and figured a throwback to Young Justice would be appropriate. I loved this fandom and writing for it. I suffered less by my anxiety and depression because of this fandom. I cannot tell you how much I am grateful, but especially for every single person who read and reached out to me. Thank you. I hope you liked this! Any thoughts/comments are deeply appreciated!