Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Artemis Crock hadn’t dreamed in months. Or at least, not like this.

She drifted, weightless, suspended in a boundless plane of swirling light—hues shifting from indigo to gold, violet to crimson, like ribbons of a sentient aurora dancing through liquid sky. The air (if it could be called that) hummed with a frequency that wasn’t sound, but emotion. It was overwhelming—peaceful, warm, familiar.

And then she saw him.

Just a silhouette at first, framed by light. Tall, with unruly hair and a confident stance she could never forget.

Her heart froze. "No."

“Hey, babe.”

The voice—soft, sheepish, unmistakably Wally—shattered the stillness. Artemis turned slowly, terrified it was a trick, a hallucination, a cruel fragment of memory. But there he was, arms crossed, smirking just like he used to.

“But... you died,” she whispered, eyes wide. “You—”

“I know. Kind of?” he scratched the back of his head. “It’s... complicated.”

She didn’t move, afraid if she blinked, he’d disappear again. “Wally... if this is some twisted way of grieving—”

“It’s not a dream. Well, okay, it is, but also... it’s real. Sort of like a cross-dimensional call through the Speed Force, using your subconscious as a conduit. Point is—you’re actually here. With me.”

Her knees gave out. Or would have, if gravity existed. “The Speed Force?”

“That’s where I’ve been. Since the whole Reach thing. When I pushed past my limits, my body couldn’t hold up—it disintegrated, but my essence got pulled in. I didn’t die. I just got... promoted to a higher dimension.”

Artemis stared at him. “That’s the worst explanation of death I’ve ever heard.”

He laughed, the sound achingly real. “Yeah, I had a lot of time to workshop that. About two years.”

The lights pulsed gently around them. She took a shaky breath. “Why now? Why are you contacting me?”

Wally’s smirk faded. His expression turned solemn.

“I’ve been trying to reach you for months. But it’s hard. Time doesn’t work right here. I needed you to be open. To believe.”

“And now I do.” Her voice broke. “But... what do you want, Wally? Why show me this?”

He stepped closer, and the space around them seemed to bend with his movement. “I found a way back. A real one. But I can’t do it alone.”

Artemis narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean?”

Wally rubbed his neck, sheepish again. “Okay, so—this is going to sound insane. But the Speed Force has rules. My physical body was destroyed, so to return... I kind of have to start over. Like, from scratch.”

“You mean reincarnation?”

“More like... rebuilding. I can come back with my memories, personality—still me. Just... I need an anchor. Someone I’m deeply connected to. Someone who can pull me through.”

Realization dawned, cold and absurd. “You’re not saying—”

“I need you to give birth to me,” he said quickly, holding up his hands. “And yes, I know how that sounds, but I promise it’s not some weird Speed Force loophole fetish thing. It’s just... physics. Magical, timey-wimey physics.”

Artemis blinked. “Wally, that is not a thing people ask their grieving girlfriends to do.”

“I know! But you’re the only one emotionally tied to me deep enough to act as a conduit. Look, I’ll be me when I come out. Just younger. Temporarily. The Speed Force says I’ll age up fast once I’m out. But the pregnancy part? That’s normal.”

She gaped at him. “Let me get this straight. You’re asking me to... birth you. As a baby. Who will then turn into full-grown you?”

“Yes. But like, fast-forward. It’ll be me again. Same voice, same memories. Still love Big Belly Burger.”

She crossed her arms. “That’s not reassuring.”

Wally floated closer, eyes softer. “I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t the only way. I’ve waited two years just to see you. I want to come home. But only if you want me to.”

Silence fell between them.

And for the first time in two years, Artemis didn’t feel alone.

Chapter Text

There were very few times in Artemis Crock’s life where she felt like crawling into a hole and dying of secondhand embarrassment. This was one of them.

She stood in the middle of the Watchtower briefing room, surrounded by the League and the Team. Superman. Batman. Wonder Woman. Kaldur. Zatanna. Nightwing. Even Conner had shown up from Smallville for the call.

All eyes were on her. Her hands were clutched tightly in front of her. Her heart was racing. And the words had just left her mouth before she could find the brakes.

“So, uh... that’s it. Wally’s alive. Kind of. He’s in the Speed Force. He’s been trying to reach me for months. He can come back. But only if I... you know... give birth to him.”

Silence.

Dead, cosmic, cataclysmic silence.

She finished with a forced, shaky grin and two thumbs up. “...Surprise?”

The room didn’t explode into laughter, or horror, or even questions. It just froze. Like someone had collectively unplugged every brain.

Nightwing’s mouth opened and closed like a dying fish. Zatanna blinked as if trying to wake herself up. Conner tilted his head. Bart whispered, “...Whoa.”

From the League side, the reactions were no better. Batman looked like he was already trying to calculate an emergency extraction plan. Wonder Woman’s brow was furrowed in something dangerously close to concern. Hal Jordan was mouthing nope over and over. And Flash was deathly pale.

Superman spoke first.

“You’re saying... Wally wants to reincarnate through you.”

Artemis nodded slowly. “That’s the gist of it.”

“As a baby.”

“Yep.”

“With... accelerated aging.”

“Yuuup.”

“And this information came to you in a dream.”

“Well, a Speed Force dream,” she corrected quickly. “It felt real. He explained everything. He had the same voice, same awful jokes—definitely Wally.”

There was another long beat.

Then Barry, looking like he aged five years in five minutes, croaked: “Oh my god, I’m going to be his uncle again. Twice.”

More blinking. More silence.

Finally, J’onn J’onzz stepped forward, arms behind his back.

“I have scanned Artemis’s mind,” he said calmly. “Twice.”

Heads turned.

“Wait, what?” Green Arrow said.

“She requested it,” J’onn clarified. “I performed a deep telepathic verification. What she experienced... was real. At least, as real as the Speed Force allows.”

He glanced toward M'gann, who nodded solemnly beside him.

“I checked too,” she said. “No delusions. No mental tampering. The memory is intact. The vision was vivid, coherent, and—” she looked away, awkward “—very honest.”

Artemis cleared her throat. “I really wish someone had told me the Speed Force had a weird sense of humor about reincarnation rules.”

Beast Boy raised his hand slowly. “So... if we don’t do this... is Wally stuck in a cosmic lightning salad forever?”

“Pretty much,” Artemis said with a shrug.

Nightwing pinched the bridge of his nose. “Okay. Okay. Let me summarize: Wally West’s consciousness is alive in a hyperdimensional energy field. He needs Artemis to physically rebirth him to escape. And he’ll come out as... what? A fully grown adult in, like, a month?”

“Wally says two to three months, tops,” Artemis offered. “He called it a ‘baby speedrun.’”

Groans. Literal groans from several corners.

Zatanna looked like she was weighing the spiritual implications of this against her entire magical education. “That makes zero arcane sense. But also... it kinda checks out?”

Superboy leaned toward Nightwing and muttered, “Do we throw her a baby shower or a welcome-back party?”

Kaldur, ever the composed one, turned to Artemis with quiet concern. “And you are certain this is what you want?”

Artemis hesitated. The question cut through the weirdness like a knife.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I haven’t decided. But I’m not making this up. Wally’s alive. And he wants to come home.”

The briefing room was still a pressure cooker of disbelief, secondhand embarrassment, and fragile cosmic logic with Artemis standing planted at the center of it.

And then, like a well-timed meteor of chaos, Bart Allen cleared his throat.

“Well, hey,” he said, throwing both arms in the air with a bright grin, “look on the bright side!”

Every head turned toward him in slow, tired unison, as if the entire room had collectively realized: Oh no. He’s gonna say something.

Bart beamed wider. “At least it’s not a hedgehog situation!”

The silence was deafening.

Nightwing blinked. “I’m afraid to ask.”

“No, no, hear me out!” Bart stepped forward like he was delivering the punchline of a stand-up routine that only existed in his head. “You know—how some animals, like hedgehogs or wolves or those weird space rabbits I saw once in the future—they give birth to whole litters?”

He made an exaggerated exploding motion with his hands. “Boom. Surprise! Instead of one Wally? Artemis wakes up one morning and—bam!—six tiny, speed-talking Wests crawling all over the place!”

Artemis made a noise. It was somewhere between a groan and a strangled laugh of horror.

“I’M SORRY, WHAT?” Zatanna said, choking on her own spit.

“Please tell me that’s not biologically possible,” muttered Green Arrow.

“I—I don’t think so!” Artemis said quickly, waving her hands in alarm. “Wally didn’t say anything about speedster multiples! Just the one! Just... him!”

“Yeah, well, you also didn’t know reincarnation was on the Speed Force’s feature list,” Bart said with a shrug. “Maybe it’s like, ‘Buy one, get five free!’ Speed Force baby expansion pack!”

Superboy muttered, “This is how the apocalypse starts.”

“I’d name them—” Bart continued. “Wally, Molly, Folly, Golly, Jolly, and, uh—Bolly! Y’know, like Bollywood. Gotta keep it spicy!”

Barry actually facepalmed, which was impressive given his usual cheerful tolerance for Bart’s shenanigans.

M’gann looked deeply uncomfortable. “Guys, we’re talking about someone being pregnant with their dead boyfriend’s hyper-evolved reincarnation.”

“Technically not dead!” Bart chirped. “Just... dimensionally inconvenienced!”

Batman raised a hand. The room instantly fell quiet.

Batman stepped forward finally, arms crossed. “Then the next step is clear.” Everyone turned to him. “We monitor the pregnancy.”

Bart raised a finger. “Okay, but if she does end up with a speedster litter, can we agree now I get to be the god-uncle of at least two?”

J’onn tilted his head. “Given the precedent of Wally bending space-time to return from a dimensional singularity via gestational reincarnation... I would not entirely rule it out.”

Artemis whimpered.

Chapter Text

It had been two weeks since the dream.

Artemis Crock had tried everything to convince herself that Wally’s surreal Speed Force message was just a stress-induced hallucination.

Until this morning.

She sat up in bed with a gasp, hand flying to her stomach. There it was. Not a cramp. Not nerves. A flutter.

No—more than that. A rhythm. Faint, but unmistakable.

A heartbeat.

Not hers. Too fast. Too small. But steady. Pulsing like a drumline of light.

She placed both hands against her abdomen, her breath shaking. “Wally?”

No response, of course. But she felt it.

That familiar buzz, like a whisper of his energy. The same static charge that used to linger on her skin after he kissed her. A low hum of something warm and impossibly alive.

She didn’t wait to get dressed. Didn’t stop for coffee. She was still in sweats when she zeta’d to the Watchtower.

Batman turned mid-conversation when she stormed in, disheveled and very much not scheduled.

“I need to speak with you,” Artemis said, breathless. “Now.”

Without a word, he dismissed the League techs and gestured her into the glass-walled side chamber used for private briefings.

Artemis closed the door behind them, paced once, then turned to face him. “I felt it.”

Batman’s cowl tilted slightly. “Clarify.”

“The baby. Or whatever’s happening. I felt a heartbeat this morning.” She placed her hand over her still-flat stomach. “Not mine. Fast. Strong. Just like he said it would be.”

Batman didn’t blink. “Have you confirmed this with medical?”

“I am confirming it. To you.”

He didn’t sigh—Batman never sighed—but the subtle shift in his posture said he was reclassifying this as a high-priority anomaly.

“I’ll alert J’onn and Dr. Midnight. You’ll undergo a full scan.”

Artemis crossed her arms. “I want you to know I’m taking this seriously. As ridiculous as it sounds, I know what I felt. And if Wally’s really... in there... we need to be ready. Because this isn’t just a pregnancy.”

Batman gave the slightest nod. “This is a cross-dimensional event involving unstable cosmic energy. We will prepare accordingly.”

She let out a slow breath, unsure whether to feel relieved or more freaked out. He looked at her like she was a new entry in his case files. “You’re not just carrying Wally. You may be the only living bridge between this reality and the Speed Force.”

“Well,” Artemis said, rubbing her temple, “that sounds healthy and not at all terrifying.”

Batman turned to leave. “Get ready for the scan. And Artemis—” She looked up. “If you feel anything else abnormal... anything new... report it immediately.”

“Define ‘abnormal,’” she muttered.

He paused at the door.

“You’ll know.”

Chapter Text

Artemis hated med bays.

She hated the smell of disinfectant, the humming machines, the weird sterile calm of the whole place. But mostly she hated being on the table instead of beside it.

“Just relax,” Dr. Midnight said in his usual soft, no-nonsense tone. “This’ll only take a few minutes.”

“Easy for you to say,” Artemis grumbled, pulling up the hem of her shirt as she laid back on the exam table. “You’re not about to get slimed.”

He chuckled faintly as he squeezed the bottle of gel.

“Cold,” he warned.

SHLORP.

She winced. “Ugh. Nope. Still gross.”

“It helps with conductivity for the scan.”

“Could’ve used a warning with a heater setting.”

Dr. Midnight only raised an amused eyebrow before picking up the wand. With a few careful movements, the machine beside her began to beep, flicker, and display a swirling grayscale image.

Artemis squinted at the screen. It mostly looked like cosmic static.

“...Is that me or a weather system?”

He didn’t answer at first.

He adjusted the wand. Zoomed in.

And then—there.

A little flickering light. Rhythmic. Fast.

A tiny shape, just beginning to take form. Not even fully human yet, but unmistakably alive. The heartbeat was rapid, strong, fluttering like hummingbird wings in her chest.
Dr. Midnight’s voice was calm and certain.

“One baby. Male. Development’s unusually fast but stable. I’d estimate this fetus is about four to five weeks along in terms of growth—even though it’s only been two since you reported the vision.”

Artemis stared at the screen, barely breathing. “So... just one?”

He nodded.

“Definitely just one?”

“Yes. One healthy fetus.” He looked at her. “Wally.”

She swallowed hard.

There it was. Confirmation. Not just a dream. Not just some metaphysical maybe. Wally was really in there.

Alive.

Growing.

She blinked, suddenly overcome by a tightness in her chest. Not fear this time—though there was still plenty of that. But something else too.

Hope. And panic. And love.

“This is the weirdest day of my life,” she said softly, wiping at her eyes before the tears could finish forming.

“I imagine that’s saying a lot for someone in your line of work,” Dr. Midnight said gently.

Artemis nodded. “You have no idea.”

The Watchtower’s emergency alarms blared.

Red lights pulsed. Zeta tubes lit up. The League and Team were rushing into the central hall with mission-ready expressions.

“Status report?” Nightwing demanded, stepping in with Kaldur and Zatanna right behind him.

“Is it the Reach?” asked Green Lantern.

“Boom Tube activity?” Superman asked, already scanning the area.

“No,” came a cheerful voice from across the room. “It’s so much better!”

Zzzzt!

Bart Allen blurred into view right next to Artemis with an enormous grin, and he dramatically gestured like a magician revealing the grand finale.

“Feast your eyes, people!” he bellowed with absolute glee. “Upon the glorious return of Wally West!”

He flourished both arms toward Artemis’ midsection like he was presenting a prize on a game show.

Artemis froze—ice cream spoon halfway to her mouth, wearing a giant hoodie, pajama pants, and zero makeup.

There was an agonizing silence as the entire League and Team stood blinking at the scene.

Artemis slowly turned toward Bart, her expression blank with murderous intent.

“You absolute jerk,” she growled.

He blinked. “Uh—what?”

SPLOT.

A full spoon of ice cream slammed directly into his cheek.

“OW—cold cold cold cold—!”

“Do you even think before you speed around calling emergency meetings?! I’m in my snack mode! I’m pregnant! You just summoned the literal Justice League to watch me mid-craving like I’m some walking baby shrine!”

Bart was wiping at his face, still stunned. “I—okay, but listen—in my defense—you’re glowing in the spiritual, Speed Force-y sense and that feels like a priority broadcast—”

“Bart,” Kaldur interrupted, calm as ever, “you activated a full planetary priority alert.”

Batman loomed at the edge of the crowd. “You interrupted three international operations, Bart.”

“Yeah, but technically, this is interdimensional!” Bart offered helpfully.

Artemis stood up with a dramatic groan and shoved the ice cream into his hands. “Hold this. And pray I don’t sit on your face.”

She turned to face the gathered heroes, cheeks pink from a mix of rage and embarrassment.

“It’s true,” she said, raising her hands. “As surreal as it is, this is happening. Wally is… coming back. Through me. Via Speed Force metaphysical pregnancy. And no, I don’t understand it either.”

Someone coughed.

J’onn and M’gann exchanged a silent nod before J’onn addressed the room.

“I have scanned Artemis twice since her initial report,” he confirmed. “Her story has been entirely truthful. The fetus’s energy signature is identical to Wally West’s.”

M’gann nodded, eyes glowing faintly. “It’s really him. His consciousness is faint, but it’s there. I can feel it.”

More stunned silence.

Zatanna muttered, “Okay, that wasn’t in the Book of Destiny.”

Barry rubbed his temples. “How do we even plan for this?”

“I don’t think you do,” Artemis sighed, flopping back onto the bench. “You just survive it. One ridiculous moment at a time.”

Bart, still with ice cream on his face, gave her a sheepish grin. “So... you are excited though, right?”

She looked at him for a long moment.

Then she glanced down at her belly—still flat, but warmer somehow. Humming faintly with impossible energy.

A small smile tugged at her lips.

“Yeah,” she said softly. “I am.”

Bart grinned. “Told ya.”

“But next time you try something like that again,” she warned, “I’m launching you into orbit.”

“Worth it,” Bart said, already licking the spoon.

Chapter Text

The Watchtower conference room was unusually quiet that morning. Until Artemis walked in.

Well—shuffled in, actually.

Oversized hoodie. Messy ponytail. Giant sunglasses. And the kind of sleep-deprived energy that could only be forged in the fires of supernatural exhaustion.

She dropped her datapad onto the table with a thud and slumped into her seat, pulling down her shades to reveal colossal under-eye bags that looked like she'd gone three rounds with Klarion.

“Morning,” she croaked, voice hoarse and soul somewhere in another dimension. The League stared.

Black Canary tilted her head. “You okay?”

Artemis gave a slow blink. “Wally kept me up all night.”

Green Lantern blinked. “Wait. Baby Wally?”

“Yup.” She pointed to her belly like it was a war crime. “That little lightning rod was doing laps around my insides. Kicking. Vibrating. At one point I swear to God he tried to punch my kidney. I haven’t slept since Tuesday.”

Flash—Barry—snorted suddenly, covering his mouth with his hand.

“Oh no,” he said through a poorly contained laugh. “Ohhh man. That tracks.”

Artemis glared at him through bloodshot eyes. “What tracks?”

Barry was already giggling. “When Mary was pregnant with Wally, she said the exact same thing. Hyperactive little speed-nugget would start running at 2 a.m. She used to lie there swearing he was building a treadmill in her ribcage.”

“I hate that this is hereditary,” Artemis muttered, faceplanting into her arms on the table. “He vibrated so hard at one point I thought my appendix was gonna phase out of my body.”

“I’m so sorry,” Barry said between chuckles, clearly not sorry.

Batman, unfazed as ever, tapped a few buttons on his tablet and pulled up biometric data.

“Given Wally’s Speed Force entanglement, it’s likely he retains a degree of enhanced cellular motion, even in his fetal state.”

Artemis lifted her head, eyes red-rimmed.

“In English, please.”

“He’s still got his speed,” Batman said simply. “And he’s using it.”

Artemis slumped even deeper into the table. “So what you’re telling me is: my unborn, dimensionally resurrected boyfriend has super-speed hyperactivity, and I just have to live with that?”

“Yes,” Batman replied flatly. “Possibly for several months.”

“Joy.”

There was a long pause.

Then Barry, barely holding back laughter, added, “Hey, look on the bright side—at least he’s getting a head start on leg day.”

“Barry,” Diana warned.

“Sorry!”

Artemis glared at him. “If this kid comes out doing laps before he learns to crawl, I’m leaving him with you for a weekend.”

Barry raised a hand. “Deal. Just make sure he doesn’t vibrate through the crib.”

Artemis threw her hood over her head and groaned.

“This is my life now,” she muttered into the table. “A cosmic baby cardio class. Awesome.”

Chapter Text

It was supposed to be relaxing.

That was the whole point of the girls' brunch—get Artemis out of the Watchtower, out of League drama, out of Speed Force-laced science talk, and into a booth at a low-key, hero-friendly café in Metropolis. One with big booths, zero paparazzi, and a menu that M’gann swore by.

The crew showed up in full force: M’gann, Zatanna, Cassie, Barbara, Karen, and Raquel—all armed with oversized sunglasses, low-key glam, and a shared mission to make Artemis chill for a few hours.

She was trying. She really was.

At first, it went well. They ordered everything. Pancakes, waffles, omelets, a suspiciously spicy shakshuka that Cassie swore was a new craving, and lasagna—Artemis’s own contribution, because apparently, her fetus had demanded “breakfast and dinner.”

But by the time the plates arrived, Artemis was leaning on one elbow, fork in hand, staring down at the lasagna like it had personally insulted her.

Barbara raised an eyebrow. “You good?”

Artemis sighed, poking the pasta like it might become appetizing if she glared hard enough. “I swear, if I eat one more bite of lasagna, I will explode.”

“I thought that was your go-to comfort food?” Zatanna asked, sipping her iced coffee.

“It was.” Artemis flopped dramatically into the booth cushion. “But this kid’s taste buds change faster than Bart on caffeine. Last week it was lasagna, this week it’s just—ugh.”

Karen nudged her. “Well, what do you want?”

“I don’t even know,” Artemis groaned. “Everything smells weird. I had a dream about licking sidewalk chalk last night. I think my body’s broken.”

“I think your body's building another human,” Raquel said dryly. “Kinda comes with a price tag.”

Artemis grunted in agreement and reached for her water. And that’s when it happened.

A waiter passed their table. A tray of desserts perched on one hand—delicate, glistening towers of ice cream. Scoops of strawberry, chocolate, caramel swirl, with sprigs of mint and actual edible glitter on top.

The girls kept talking. Artemis?

Artemis froze.

She sat upright like someone had just shouted her name from another dimension. The glass of water wobbled in her grip. Her pupils dilated like she’d seen a mirage in the desert.

“Is that...” she whispered.

Cassie blinked. “What?”

“Ice cream,” Artemis said, her voice trembling. “Glitter ice cream.”

The waiter moved on.

Artemis snapped to her feet.

“HEY!” she half-shouted, half-squeaked, waving her arms wildly like she was hailing a taxi on fire. “Waiter! WAITER! PLEASE—ICE CREAM—HELLO—YES—OVER HERE—HORMONALLY DERANGED PREGNANT WOMAN REQUESTING EMERGENCY SERVICE—”

Heads turned across the café. Zatanna put a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing.

M’gann’s eyes sparkled. “I think she’s found her new craving.”

The waiter, stunned but responsive, did a rapid U-turn and approached the table. Artemis was already grabbing the dessert menu like it held the key to life itself.

Karen muttered to Barbara, “She’s glowing like an Olympic torch.”

Barbara smirked. “Honestly? Iconic.”

The waiter nodded quickly and disappeared. Artemis slumped back into her seat like she’d just survived a boss battle.

“I have no shame,” she declared.

“You shouldn’t,” Zatanna said, raising her coffee in a toast. “Wally West coming back through you is the weirdest miracle the League’s ever had. You deserve ten sundaes and a tiara.”

The others lifted their drinks in agreement.

Artemis grinned through the chaos. “He better remember all this when he gets here. I want lifetime back massages. And at least a thank-you plaque.”

“Knowing Wally?” M’gann giggled. “He’ll make it a song.”

Just then, the ice cream arrived.

Artemis locked eyes on it like a predator.

The table cheered. And for the first time all week—between the exhaustion, the kicking, and the literal body-rebuilding—Artemis laughed.

Chapter Text

The maternity store was bright, cheerful, and filled with the kind of pastel colors that made Artemis want to crawl under a table and hide. But she’d come in with a very specific mission: pick up a few essentials.

Pregnancy pillow? Check.

Comfy shoes? Check.

A suspiciously large amount of stretchy pants? Check.

Now standing at the checkout counter, she tried to look calm and collected, even though her brain felt like it was running through molasses.

The cashier smiled brightly. “That’ll be $127.50, please.”

Artemis nodded and pulled out her credit card from her bag.

“Could you please tell me your credit card number?” the cashier asked politely.

Artemis blinked.

Her mind went completely blank.

She stared at the cashier, eyes wide, mouth opening and closing like a goldfish.

“Uh…”

The cashier tilted her head, smiling patiently. “Ma’am? Credit card number?”

Artemis fumbled through the card, trying to remember those sixteen digits she had just typed in her mind a second ago. But all she got was nothing.

Her cheeks flushed bright pink.

“I—uh—I’m sorry,” she stammered. “I... completely forgot it.”

The cashier blinked, then giggled softly. “It’s okay, it happens more often than you might think. Want me to just swipe it for you?”

Relieved beyond words, Artemis handed over the card.

As the machine beeped and printed the receipt, Artemis whispered, “Thank you... thank you so much.”

Outside, she muttered to herself, “Okay, memory, get it together. Speedster baby or not, I cannot forget my credit card number again.”

Artemis stood in front of her apartment door, belly now undeniably huge and round—so big that bending over was no longer an option but a contorted exercise in futility.

Her arms were loaded with mail, her recent acquired essentials at the maternity store, and the ever-present water bottle she wasn’t allowed to forget. She jiggled her keys, finally managed to unlock the door, and pushed it open just enough to slip inside.

But as soon as she shifted the stack of mail to one hand, it all slipped—papers, envelopes, flyers—scattering like a miniature tornado at her feet.

For a long moment, Artemis just stared.

Then she let out a growl. Not just any growl—the most furious, primal, earth-shaking growl in the history of mankind.

She sank down onto the nearest chair, breathing hard, glaring daggers at the floor as if her mail was personally responsible for her life’s sudden inability to do basic things.

But despite the exhaustion, the frustration, and the utterly ridiculous reality of carrying the Speed Force wrapped up as a baby inside her, Artemis found moments that made it all worthwhile. She gently cradled her enormous belly.

She closed her eyes and whispered, “Hey, kid. I know this is crazy. I know I’m tired, and this is hard. But I’m doing this for you.”

Suddenly—a flutter. A tiny, unmistakable kick.

Artemis’s eyes shot open, a smile breaking across her face.

“Is that you?” she asked softly, pressing her hand to the spot.

Another little kick, this time stronger.

Like a thank you.

Like a promise.

Wally was there. Growing. Fighting. Living.

And even when the sleepless nights stretched on, and her patience thinned, Artemis knew one thing for sure: No matter what, she was grateful. Grateful for the chance to bring him back.

And she would keep hanging in there—for him.

Chapter Text

Dr. Mid-Nite dimmed the lights as Artemis settled onto the examination table, already bracing herself for the cold gel of doom.

“Alright,” he said calmly, “let’s check how Speed Jr.’s doing.”

Artemis grunted. “If he’s doing backflips again, I swear—”

The gel hit her skin.

“GAH! Every. Single. Time.”

Dr. Mid-Nite chuckled. “You know the drill by now.”

He passed the wand over her belly, and the screen flickered to life.

M’gann and Zatanna stood beside her today, both invited to keep her company, watching the monitor with soft smiles.

“There’s the heartbeat,” Dr. Mid-Nite said, nodding. “And there’s his little spine… and—wait, hold up…”

He squinted, adjusting the view.

Artemis craned her neck. “What?”

Dr. Mid-Nite tilted the screen toward her. “Well, would you look at that…”

Zatanna gasped.

M’gann giggled.

On the screen, little Wally—barely the size of a watermelon—had one tiny hand lifted. Two tiny fingers extended. A perfect peace sign.

“Is he—?” Artemis blinked.

“Making a peace sign?” Dr. Mid-Nite confirmed. “Yep.”

“...Like he’s saying ‘just chillin’?’”

“Yep.”

M’gann clasped her hands to her mouth, giggling. “That’s so Wally.”

Zatanna laughed, pointing at the monitor. “Look at him! Not even born yet and already acting like a show-off.”

Artemis just stared at the screen, eyes softening. Her lips tugged into a crooked smile.

“Of course he’s chillin’,” she murmured. “I’m the one doing all the work.”

Little Wally kicked in response.

“Yeah, yeah,” Artemis whispered to her belly. “I know. You’re grateful.”

Chapter Text

Artemis had no idea what to expect when the Team said they were throwing her a baby shower. Honestly, she was terrified.

But now, seated in a circle of chairs in the Watchtower’s sunroom-turned-party-zone, surrounded by streamers, snacks, and an alarming number of red-and-yellow decorations, Artemis couldn’t stop smiling—even if she was silently plotting Bart’s doom.

“Okay!” M’gann clapped, beaming. “Gift time!”

First up was Dick. Ever the showman, he strutted over with a smug grin and presented a glimmering silver gift bag.

“Behold!” he announced. “Bling diapers.”

Artemis pulled out the contents—baby diapers studded with tiny gold stars, glittery trim, and what she hoped were fake rhinestones.

She blinked. “…Are these… absorbent?”

“No clue,” Dick said proudly. “But they’ll slay.”

She squinted at him. “You do realize he’s just going to poop in these, right?”

“Stylishly.” Dick winked.

Next came M’gann, offering a box wrapped in red paper with little yellow lightning bolts. Inside was a bright red bouncy ball.

Artemis smiled instantly. “He’s going to love this.”

“I thought so too,” M’gann giggled. “He always bounced off the walls anyway. Might as well give him something to aim at.”

Conner, cheeks faintly pink, stepped forward and placed something in her lap. It was a roughly carved wooden doll—lopsided and a little blocky, but clearly made with care.

“I didn’t know what to get,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “So… I made this.”

Artemis stared at it for a second, then smiled warmly. “It’s perfect. Thanks, Conner.”

Kaldur followed with a neatly wrapped bundle. Inside were soft ocean-themed baby towels, tiny bath mitts, and a set of squirtable sea creature toys.

“I remember how much Wally enjoyed water fights,” Kaldur said with a rare smile. “This seemed… appropriate.”

Artemis nodded. “He’s probably going to flood my bathroom.”

Kaldur gave a small bow. “May they bring some calm in the chaos.”

Zatanna handed her a small velvet box. Inside was an old, well-loved music box. When Artemis wound it, a soft melody chimed out—gentle, nostalgic, and undeniably magical.

“It used to help me sleep when I was little,” Zatanna said softly. “I think Wally might like it too.”

Artemis’s throat tightened. “Zee… thank you.”

Then came Barry, practically bouncing on his heels with excitement.

“Alright, this one’s a must-have!” he said, handing her a tiny red box. Artemis opened it to find a miniature version of Wally’s iconic red goggles of his suit.

“They’re non-functional, obviously,” Barry explained, “but I figured once he’s old enough to crawl, he’s gonna demand these back.”

Artemis laughed. “You’re not wrong.”

And finally—Bart.

He zipped over, practically vibrating with glee, and dropped a gift bag in her lap. Artemis opened it slowly.

Inside? A bright red maternity shirt emblazoned with the words: “FASTEST MOM-TO-BE”

Artemis stared at it. Then stared at Bart.

“…Really?”

Bart beamed. “I thought it was thematic!”

“You would.”

The Team burst into laughter.

Despite the embarrassment, Artemis couldn’t help it. She laughed too—hand on her belly, surrounded by the strangest, most loyal group of heroes she could ever ask for.

And from deep inside, little Wally gave a reassuring kick.

He was ready, and so was she.

Chapter Text

The Justice League's debriefing had been relatively routine—monitoring intergalactic threats, debating alien diplomacy, the usual.

That peace shattered in one high-pitched, panic-fueled voice over the comms: “MY WATER JUST BROKE!!”

Artemis’s voice blasted through the Watchtower’s main speakers like a bomb. Everyone froze.

Then all hell broke loose.

“SHE’S IN LABOR!” Shazam shouted, launching into the air as if that alone could fix it.

“Do we have a medical team ready?! Who’s got towels?! Do we need towels?!” Green Arrow asked, spinning in place.

“I don’t think towels help with dimensional rebirth!” Hal Jordan blurted.

Aquaman calmly said, “This is worse than the Starro incident.”

Superman was halfway to punching a hole in the side of the Watchtower just to make a shortcut to Earth. Even Wonder Woman was pacing like a worried aunt.

Only one figure remained motionless—arms crossed, cape unmoved. Batman.

He pressed a button on the console and said in the calmest voice imaginable, “Nightwing. Bring Artemis to the Watchtower. Now.”

Then he turned slowly to the League. “Everyone else: stop panicking. You’ve fought gods. You can handle a birth.”

“...Can we, though?” Captain Atom whispered.

Meanwhile, on Earth, Artemis was in full labor-mode, pacing the floor of her apartment like a caged tiger, one hand on her belly and the other holding her communicator.

“WHERE ARE YOU PEOPLE?! I AM NOT HAVING A SPEED FORCE BABY IN MY LIVING ROOM!”

The Team was already in motion.

Nightwing appeared with Zeta tube coordinates, Zatanna began prepping calming spells, M’gann levitated the hospital bag while Conner carefully lifted Artemis (against her will) like she was made of glass.

“Put me down—Wally is not gonna be born in the air like Simba!!”

“Too late,” Conner said calmly. “You’re Simba-ing.”

Back at the Watchtower, the League cleared the med bay as Dr. Mid-Nite prepped for the most scientifically improbable birth in the known multiverse.

As Artemis was Zeta-beamed into the room—sweaty, furious, and yelling about how someone better give her ice chips immediately—Batman turned to Barry Allen.

“Ready to meet your nephew again?”

Barry grinned, his eyes misty.

“I’ve been ready for two years.”

Chapter Text

Nothing—nothing—in Artemis’s life had prepared her for this.

Not undercover missions. Not League briefings. Not nearly dying in alien invasions. Not even that one time she had to babysit Bart and Beast Boy together.

This was on a whole new level.

She was laid out in the Watchtower med bay, sweat-soaked, teeth gritted, fists clenched so tight her knuckles were bone-white. Lights flickered overhead as static crackled through the air—mini Speed Force surges causing interference with the equipment.

“You’ve got this, Artemis!” M’gann called from beside her, telekinetically steadying the medical instruments.

Zatanna kept a protective ward humming in the air to buffer any Speed Force outbursts.

Dr. Mid-Nite had definitely not trained for this level of supernatural childbirth. And Artemis?

Artemis was in agony.

“I’m gonna kill him!” she howled as another contraction hit. Her voice echoed through the entire Watchtower.

“WALLACE RUDOLPH WEST, I SWEAR TO EVERY GOD THAT EXISTS—WHEN YOU GET OUT, I’M GOING TO STRANGLE YOU BACK INTO THE SPEED FORCE MYSELF!”

She thrashed against the bed, muttering every curse word known to man—and maybe a few alien ones she’d picked up from M’gann and Kaldur.

Normally, she’d be crushing Wally’s hand right now, but noooo. That little bastard was the one causing all this from the inside.

Instead, Artemis gripped the side rails and screamed, “YOU’RE LUCKY I LOVE YOU, YOU RIDICULOUS LIGHTNING-INFUSED NERD!”

There was a sudden pulse of light in her belly, a flicker of gold that made the medical monitor beep excitedly.

Dr. Mid-Nite checked her status. “It’s almost time! He’s moving fast—very fast!”

“NO SURPRISE THERE!” she roared, arching forward with another contraction.

Even Batman, waiting silently in the corner, flinched.

“Someone… someone give me ice chips or a punching bag!” Artemis barked.

Conner wordlessly handed her a stress ball shaped like a Flash logo. She bit it.

Barry muttered, “That was custom made...”

“Shut. UP.”

Then, suddenly—one more blinding surge of Speed Force energy pulsed through the room. Lights flashed, and the temperature seemed to spike for just a second.

And Dr. Mid-Nite leaned forward with shock in his voice: “He’s coming!”

There was a final surge of glowing light—gold and white and tinged with that unmistakable crackle of Speed Force energy. For a moment, the med bay was silent, lit with the afterglow of something ancient and cosmic and unspeakably strange. Then—

A tiny sound.

Not a cry. But a bright, unmistakably happy little—

“Yay!”

Dr. Mid-Nite blinked. “Did he just...?”

“Oh my god,” Zatanna whispered, “he came out cheering.”

“Of course he did,” Dick muttered with a tired grin. “That’s so Wally.”

Wally West—tiny, warm, wrapped in a soft cream-colored blanket patterned with little red Flash logos—blinked open his bright green eyes. He looked around with a suspiciously knowing expression for a newborn, wiggled his tiny fingers, and made another delighted squeak.

Artemis, soaked in sweat and tears, finally let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding for nine months. Nine impossible, insane, exhausting months.

“Gimme,” she rasped hoarsely.

Dr. Mid-Nite gently handed him over, and the second Wally touched her arms, he gave a sleepy little coo and rested his tiny head on her chest.

“Hey,” Artemis whispered, smiling through the exhaustion. “There you are.”

The room slowly filled with the Team—one by one, they stepped forward. Not rushing, not loud. Just present.
M’gann wiped her eyes. Conner nodded solemnly. Kaldur placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. Bart grinned with tears in his eyes, trying and failing to play it cool.

Dick just leaned in close and whispered, “Welcome back, Wally.”

Even Barry was quietly crying, kneeling beside Artemis, brushing a hand softly over Wally’s tiny blanket-covered back.

“You came home, kid,” he whispered. “You really came home.”

Artemis looked down at the baby in her arms—his little hand curled loosely around her finger, his breath steady, calm, alive.

“Only you,” she said with a laugh-shudder, “would make a dramatic Speed Force comeback as a baby.”

The little Wally gave another tiny, cheerful “Mm!” and nestled deeper into her arms.

And for the first time in two years, the Team—and Artemis—felt whole again.

Chapter Text

The Watchtower’s med bay had seen a lot over the years—alien biology, magical parasites, but this?

This was new.

Artemis lay on the recovery bed, half-dozing while the rest of the Team waited nearby. Little Wally, now dressed in a teeny red onesie (yes, it had a lightning bolt), was being gently scanned by Dr. Mid-Nite under Batman’s steely gaze.

“I’m telling you,” Dr. Mid-Nite muttered, “this kid is rewriting every medical textbook I’ve ever read.”

Batman didn’t blink. “Explain.”

Dr. Mid-Nite pointed to the monitor. “Full head of ginger hair. All twenty primary teeth are already in. Perfectly aligned, no growth defects, no calcium deficiency. And his skeletal structure is developing at an accelerated—but stable—rate.”

Batman folded his arms. “So, a speedster baby that’s already teething.”

“Finished teething,” Dr. Mid-Nite corrected grimly. “He's ready for steak.”

From her bed, Artemis groaned. “I knew I felt something freaky when he bit my finger earlier…”

Dick peered over the doctor’s shoulder. “So we’ve got a super-baby with adult-level bone density and a full set of chompers?”

Dr. Mid-Nite nodded. “He's like a turbo-charged toddler who just hasn’t figured out language yet.”

“Yet,” Batman repeated, narrowing his eyes like he was already preparing for toddler Wally launching himself through walls.

Meanwhile, the “baby” in question sat happily on Artemis’ lap, cooing and playing with the drawstring on her hoodie. His messy red hair stuck out at every angle like a static-charged dandelion puff.

Artemis stared at him.

“You have teeth. You have teeth. You’re like… a redheaded piranha.”

Wally responded by giggling and giving her hoodie a friendly, toothy gnaw.

Bart leaned over her shoulder. “Okay but like—respect.”

Chapter Text

The Watchtower’s private recovery suite had grown quieter since the birth chaos had died down, and for once, Artemis finally had a moment alone with Wally—just her and the baby with the soul of a speedster and the appetite of a small bear.

She sat back on the medical bed, legs curled beneath her, cradling him gently in her arms while feeding him a warm baby bottle.

“You know,” she muttered, eyeing the bottle, “nine months of pregnancy and not a drop of breast milk. Not one.”

Baby Wally suckled with his usual speedster enthusiasm, then paused—pulling the bottle away just long enough to flash her a suspiciously mischievous, full-teeth grin.

Artemis raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t even start with me, West.”

He wiggled and gave a little hiccup that suspiciously sounded like a snicker.

“I swear,” she said, tapping the bottle back to his mouth, “you’ve been out of the womb for five minutes and you already think you’re smarter than me.”

Wally accepted the bottle again with mock innocence, but his eyes sparkled with that classic Wally mischief.

She leaned her head back against the pillow, sighing through her nose.

“Just finish your bottle, you weirdo reincarnated speed-goblin. You owe me sleep, sanity, and three months of back rubs.”

Wally kicked his feet in response, making happy gurgling sounds.

“I’m not kidding,” Artemis said sleepily, though her hand gently brushed through his wild ginger hair. “Once you're big enough to understand full sentences again, I’m handing you a to-do list. You owe me.”

He gave one last little suck, then yawned—wide, toothy, and smug.

Artemis rolled her eyes but smiled.

“…Yeah. I missed you too, dumbass.”

Chapter Text

It had been one week since Wally was “born,” and Artemis had already come to terms with the fact that her life would never be normal again.

But she wasn’t ready for this.

"Okay, kiddo," she said, setting Wally down on his changing mat with a fresh diaper in hand. "Nice and easy, let’s do this like a team, alright?"

Wally grinned at her. A big, toothy, scheming grin.

“Wally,” she warned, narrowing her eyes.

He giggled.

Then, like some red-haired blur of chaos, he crawled.

Not stumbled. Not wobbled. Crawled, fast and coordinated like a tiny greased-up gremlin on a mission of mass inconvenience.

“WALLY!” Artemis shrieked, diving for him as he zipped across the floor, still completely naked and laughing like a maniac.

He skidded under the coffee table and popped back out the other side, heading toward the hallway.

“You little freak of nature!” she yelled, tripping over the diaper bag as she scrambled after him.

“BAH-HAHA!” was Wally’s only response, cackling like he knew exactly what he was doing—and enjoying every second.

By the time she finally caught him (with the help of a strategically placed couch cushion), Artemis was out of breath, Wally was giggling in triumph, and the diaper was still untouched.

Wally just grinned up at her like an innocent angel. Then tried to crawl again.

She slammed her hand gently on his chest to keep him down. “Don’t. Even. Think about it.”

He wiggled, flashed another grin…And farted.

Artemis blinked.

“…Awesome. That’s your payback plan?”

Chapter Text

Of all the toys scattered around Artemis’ living room—a pile that had grown absurdly fast thanks to both the Team and League spoiling him—Wally had chosen a clear favorite.

A simple, old-school shape organizer.

It was a red-and-yellow plastic cube with a bunch of colorful geometric cutouts on the sides. Stars, circles, triangles, squares—all with matching chunky pieces that rattled when you shook them. Classic. Unassuming. And, apparently, Wally’s version of the Batcomputer.

He sat cross-legged in the middle of the floor, pacifier firmly in his mouth, his fiery hair fluffed out in all directions like he’d just lost a fight with a wind tunnel. His tiny fingers gripped a blue star piece as he rotated it with scientific precision.

Thwip. Into the star-shaped hole it went.

Artemis peeked from the couch, hiding her smirk behind her tablet. “You know that’s not actually a Rubik’s Cube, right?”

Wally didn’t respond. Just sucked once on his pacifier, squinted hard at a yellow triangle, and furrowed his brow even deeper. The level of intensity on his face could’ve given Batman a run for his money.

Chomp. Chomp. Deep frown.

He turned the triangle upside down. Left. Right. Pacifier bobbing with each little chew.

Thunk. Triangle in.

He gave a satisfied grunt—like a mini engineer solving quantum mechanics with primary-colored plastic—and reached for the circle.

Artemis chuckled. “You’re seriously acting like that’s a world-ending puzzle box.”

Wally glanced up, deadpan and serious, pacifier still in his mouth.

Then, slowly, without breaking eye contact, he reached over… picked up the square…

…and slammed it into the wrong hole.

Artemis blinked.

“…You little troll.”

He grinned around the pacifier, smug.

Chapter Text

It was a quiet morning on the Watchtower—rare, and likely fleeting—which meant Artemis was soaking it in for all it was worth.

Wally, now about the size and motor skills of a six-month-old despite only being a couple weeks out of the Speed Force, had just gotten dressed in a new outfit: soft green onesie, tiny cotton socks, and his new pair of baby mittens.

M’gann had picked them out. Artemis suspected they were a thinly veiled attempt to contain the chaos. He looked absolutely ridiculous—ridiculous in the most devastatingly adorable way.

Padded little hands. Chubby socked feet. That same slightly smug, wide-eyed look like he was plotting world domination through pure cuteness.

“Alright,” Artemis said, pulling out her phone, “hold still, I need to document this crime against my ability to stay mad at you.”

Wally sat wobbling upright on his blanket, arms out like a tiny plush doll. He gave a bright coo of approval and then—

“Chu!” A tiny sneeze escaped his button nose.

Artemis grinned. “Aww, bless y—”

ZAP!

A sudden poof of gold lightning sparked from his little body with a soft crackle, lifting every ginger hair on his head straight upward in a wild, frizzy halo.

Artemis stared.

Wally blinked.

Then grinned around the pacifier he’d somehow re-stuffed into his mouth.

She slowly lowered the phone.

“…You look like a ginger Pomeranian.”

He wiggled happily, making a soft “mmf!” sound and flopping his mittened hands like proud paws.

Another sneeze. “Chu!”

CRACKLE—POOF!

His hair fluffed up even more, static puffing it into an untamable ginger explosion.

Artemis groaned into her hands. “Oh great. I’m raising a lightning-powered powder puff.”

From the doorway, Dick stifled a laugh. “So... Baby Flash or Baby Fluff?”

“Keep talking, and you’ll be next to wear mittens.”

Chapter Text

“C’mon, Artemis,” Barry said with a grin, holding up the brand-new, safety-rated, velocity-adjusted baby carrier. “He’s a speedster. He needs to feel the wind in his hair.”

Artemis squinted at him. “Barry, he’s two weeks old.”

“He’s technically closer to seven months physically!”

“He sneezes lightning!”

Barry patted the carrier proudly. “And this little harness is made with friction-resistant fabric, custom STAR Labs tech cushioning, and a triple containment system. It’s safer than your bed.”

Artemis folded her arms, unconvinced. “If he throws up on you mid-Mach two, I’m not helping.”

Barry just winked. “That’s why the goggles come standard.”

Five minutes later, Wally was strapped securely into the tiny custom red carrier on Barry’s chest, his fluffy ginger hair already poking out of a speedster-designed hood.

His tiny hands gripped the edge of the carrier, pacifier firmly in place, green eyes glowing with excitement.

“You ready, lil’ guy?” Barry asked.

Wally responded by kicking his socked feet and letting out the happiest, most chaotic giggle the world had ever heard.

“Alright! Let’s go for a walk!”

To the average observer on Earth, it was a barely visible blur of red and gold streaking across continents.

Through Paris.

Across the Serengeti.

Zipping over the Himalayas and surfing across Australia’s coastlines.

Barry kept a tight hold on his nephew the entire time, adjusting wind pressure with micro-speed shields, occasionally doing little loop-de-loops just to make Wally squeal with joy.

And Wally?

He was having the time of his tiny life.

Every time they zipped past a new monument, he’d let out a bubbly little “Waaah!” and wiggle in his harness like a ginger cotton ball in full celebration mode.

In the mirrored reflection of a Tokyo skyscraper, Barry caught sight of them—his own ridiculous grin, and Wally’s wild hair plastered back by speed force and joy.

“Best walk ever, huh?” Barry asked between laughs.

Wally drooled happily and let out another tiny, delighted, “Yaaaay!”

Back at the Watchtower, Barry unstrapped a windblown, exhilarated baby Wally and handed him off to Artemis.

She blinked. “He smells like ocean salt, tulips, and… is that curry?”

Barry coughed. “Uh, yeah. We made a quick stop in Mumbai.”

Wally yawned, then let out a sleepy burble of triumph, still wiggling with leftover energy.

Artemis sighed. “You’re never going to be normal, are you?”

Wally grinned.

Chapter Text

It was late afternoon in Artemis’ apartment, sunlight filtering softly through the windows. The air smelled faintly of lavender baby wipes and reheated takeout, and the sounds of the Watchtower’s distant hum were replaced by the gentle squish-squish of Wally sucking contentedly on his bottle.

But Artemis wasn’t the one feeding him today. Instead, Paula Crock, sharp-eyed and unshakably calm in her wheelchair, held Wally with the effortless confidence of someone who’d once handled landmines and automatic weapons for a living.

“He’s got a strong grip,” she said casually as Wally latched onto the bottle with both mittened hands. “Almost pulled the thing out of my hand.”

Artemis, curled on the couch nearby, let out a half-laugh, half-sigh. “Yeah, that’s him. Comes back from the Speed Force, and the first thing he wants is total control over his meal plan.”

Paula smiled but didn’t look up. “Smart boy.”

A beat passed, and Artemis exhaled again, leaning her head back.

“I still can’t believe how okay you’ve been with all this.”

Paula arched a brow, still rocking Wally gently in her arms. “All what, exactly?”

“You know.” Artemis gestured vaguely. “The whole… I-gave-birth-to-my-dead-boyfriend-because-he-was-resurrected-by-Speed-Force-via-quantum-pregnancy thing.”

Wally made a tiny squeak around his bottle as if in agreement.

Paula chuckled—low, amused, and completely unbothered. “Sweetheart, I was a mercenary in the 80s.” She gave a dry smirk. “This? This is tame.”

Wally finished the last of his bottle with a dramatic slurp. Paula gently eased the bottle away and dabbed his chin. He blinked up at her, big green eyes wide and curious and filled with familiar Wally mischief as he then opened his mouth—

“Gaa… gah… gaaah-ma…”

Artemis froze. “Wallace Rudolph West—don’t you dare.”

Wally kicked his legs excitedly, babbling louder. “Gaaah-ma!”

Paula’s eyes twinkled as she turned to her daughter with a smug smile. “Well. Looks like someone knows quality when he sees it.”

Artemis buried her face in a pillow. “You’re not Grandma.”

“Too late,” Paula said sweetly, bouncing Wally just a bit. “You can’t undo baby logic.”

Wally giggled and repeated it with even more confidence. “Gaaa-ma!”

“I hate everything,” Artemis mumbled into the pillow.

Paula gently shifted Wally in her arms, adjusting him so he nestled comfortably against her shoulder. He let out a sleepy sigh, his tiny hand curling into the fabric of her cardigan.

Then, with the kind of quiet grace that only came from years of hard-won experience, Paula handed him back to Artemis.

“He’s getting heavy,” she said lightly. “You might have to start doing wrist curls.”

Artemis chuckled and pulled Wally close, letting him rest against her chest. His pacifier bobbed gently in his mouth, eyes half-lidded with post-bottle drowsiness.

Paula looked at them for a long moment. Then, in a softer voice than Artemis was used to hearing from her mother, she said:

“I know this wasn’t the plan. Not any version of it.”

Artemis glanced up, unsure what to say.

Paula gestured with a nod. “Speed Force. Resurrection. Having your dead boyfriend reincarnate through your own womb. It’s the kind of thing that would break most people. Or make them run.”

Artemis snorted. “Funny. He ran first.”

Paula smiled faintly but didn’t laugh. Instead, her eyes softened in that rare way they sometimes did when she was being... real.

“But you stuck with it,” Paula continued. “You carried him. You didn’t flinch. You didn’t abandon him—even when it hurt. And that’s more than I can say for the man who gave you half your DNA.”

There was a long silence.

Artemis looked down at Wally, who had shifted in her arms and was now sleep-smiling, as if hearing every word. She brushed a bit of fluffy hair back from his face.

“You talking about Dad again?”

“I’m saying,” Paula said calmly, “that your father was a mistake I rushed into. Young, stupid, angry at the world. He was charming, sure, but he didn’t stay. He didn’t love like he was supposed to. He never earned the title of 'father.' Not really.”

Artemis’s jaw tightened, but she stayed quiet.

Paula reached out, gently placing a hand over Artemis’s.

“But Wally? He did. He earned everything. Every moment, every laugh, every heartbreak.” She looked down at the baby in Artemis’s arms. “And now he’s back. Maybe not in the way you expected—but he’s here. And he’s yours. Again.”

Artemis blinked hard.

Paula’s voice dropped lower, more intimate. “So yes. It’s strange. It’s not normal. But after everything this world has thrown at us?” She squeezed Artemis’s hand.

“I think he’s worth all of it.”

Artemis took a deep breath, holding Wally tighter.

Then, very softly, she said, “Yeah. He is.”

Chapter Text

It had taken three tries, one accidental blanket face-plant, and a brief escape attempt, but Artemis finally stood victorious over the battlefield that was her couch.

“Ha!” she crowed, tugging the last corner of the baby blanket into place.

Wally West—reincarnated speedster, former hero, current six-month-old menace—was now swaddled so tightly he could barely twitch. Only his ginger-haired, freckled head stuck out, his expression a mix of betrayal and disbelief.

He squirmed. He wriggled. Nothing. The Blanket of Doom held firm.

Artemis threw her head back and laughed—loud, genuine, uncontrollable laughter. “Oh my god, you look like an angry little burrito!” she wheezed.

Wally let out an indignant squeak, which only made her laugh harder. She pulled out her phone and snapped picture after picture, capturing him in all his worm-like frustration.

“These are going in the blackmail folder,” she announced smugly. “For when you start walking and make my life a living hell.”

Wally responded with a glare so intense it could have melted steel.

Chapter Text

The Watchtower’s main lounge was in chaos—but the good kind.

M’gann was holding Wally up under his little arms, swaying him gently while he giggled. Zatanna leaned in close, tickling under his chin. Cassie was snapping pictures on her phone.

Even Diana, who rarely let her composure slip, had her hand under her cheek as she cooed, “Oh, he’s darling.”

Wally soaked it up like a seasoned celebrity. His tiny freckled face was lit up in a grin far too smug for a nine-month-old, dimples showing as if he knew he was the center of attention. Every now and then, he gave a squeaky little coo, which only made the women melt harder.

Artemis stood nearby, arms crossed, watching this circus. Part of her wanted to roll her eyes into another dimension—this was supposed to be her debrief day, not The Baby West Fan Club Hour.

But then she caught a glimpse of him—ginger hair puffed, cheeks round, looking way too much like the same cocky idiot she’d fallen for—and something warm crept into her chest.

She let her smirk creep out and said, loud enough for the room to hear.

“Yup. I made that.”

The girls laughed, and even Artemis had to bite back the smallest laugh herself.

Wally, naturally, responded with another little coo—followed by the world’s tiniest wink.

Chapter Text

Artemis was halfway through her usual morning routine—hair a mess, coffee mug in hand, sleep still clinging to her brain—when she wandered into Wally’s room.

She reached for the light switch.

“Morning, troublemaker. Hope you didn’t melt the rug again—”

She froze.

Wally—baby Wally—wasn’t baby-sized anymore.

Instead, a bright-eyed, ginger-haired toddler with the same mischievous grin, gripping the crib railing with pudgy hands and bouncing slightly on his bare feet.

“Buh-buh!” he chirped, proud as anything.

Artemis dropped her coffee.

“WALLY?!”

He jumped. Literally. His tiny legs launched him straight up into the air like a frog on a trampoline before he landed with a triumphant flop, laughing as if nothing was remotely out of the ordinary.

Artemis gaped like a fish. Then scrunched her face and pointed a shaky accusatory finger at him. “Nope! You were a baby yesterday! I am not dealing with any of this Speed Force accelerated growth nonsense this early!”

Wally just giggled and wobbled upright again, cooing happily and holding his arms up like he wanted a hug. Or possibly to do parkour off the walls. Hard to say.

He gave her that familiar look—the one that said you missed me, didn’t you?—and even though he couldn’t speak yet, Artemis could practically hear the smug little “heh” in his brain.

“Oh no. No no no,” she muttered, still pointing at him. “You do not get to just skip entire months of infancy and act like it’s cute.”

Wally giggled and threw his arms over the crib rail. He bounced—poorly—and nearly tipped over the side.

Artemis lunged forward and caught him. Wally cooed hugged her around the neck in gratitude, burying his little new-toddler face in her neck.

Artemis sighed, rocking him slightly, “I don’t even own toddler clothes yet.”

He patted her face with both hands, drooled slightly, and squeaked, “Mah!”

“…Are you trying to say ‘Mom’? Or ‘my bad’?”

He gave her a lopsided grin. It was probably both.

Chapter Text

“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” Artemis muttered, holding up a tiny tank top like it was the holy grail of toddler fashion, “but… this might actually be the cutest thing in existence.”

Wally stood proudly on the changing table, arms stretched out like he was showing off the latest look from Toddler Vogue. His new outfit was, in a word, iconic.

A bright yellow tank top with a bold red Flash emblem across the chest—except the hem rode up just enough to expose the roundest baby belly in the entire Watchtower. Red shorts with lightning bolt trim hugged his chubby legs, and red toddler-sized sneakers completed the look, Velcro straps flapping slightly as he bounced on the balls of his feet.

But the pièce de résistance?

A miniature version of his Kid Flash suit’s red goggles, sitting slightly crooked across his forehead.

“Barry picked those,” Artemis told him, tapping the goggles gently. “Said you would want them back.”

Wally adjusted the goggles with dramatic flair, then posed like a miniature action figure—hands on hips, head tilted, tummy fully out.

“Zooooom!” he squealed, hopping in place and flailing his arms like airplane wings.

Artemis laughed despite herself. “You are way too proud of that belly.”

“BAH!” Wally replied with a single, triumphant shout. Then, without warning, he dropped to all fours and bolted out of the room like a ketchup-and-mustard-colored missile.

“WALLY—!”

By the time she made it into the living room, he’d already done three laps around the couch, his tiny sneakers squeaking with every corner he took, goggles somehow staying in place the entire time.

He skidded to a stop in front of her and raised his fists in victory. “Ta-DAH!”

“You know what?” Artemis sighed, arms crossed and a smirk tugging at her mouth. “Fine. Be the most dramatic toddler in history. Just don’t burn the house down before dinner.”

Wally saluted.

And then he zoomed off again.

Chapter Text

“Okay, Wally,” Artemis said, spoon in hand and bib secured like battle armor, “today we’re trying apples and sweet potato. You ready?”

Wally was already bouncing in his high chair like it was a spring-loaded rocket launcher, tiny feet kicking, arms waving, and his red goggles firmly in place.

“FOOD!” he declared, banging the tray with both hands. “FOOOOD!”

Artemis smiled. “At least you’re not picky.”

She dipped the spoon into the warm orange mush and brought it to his mouth. Wally leaned forward, mouth open wide like a baby bird—

SPLAT.

He missed. Somehow. Despite looking directly at it.

The spoonful of baby food smeared right across his cheek and into one of the goggles, which he didn’t even react to.

“Okay. We’re off to a great start,” Artemis muttered.

She wiped his face, tried again.

This time it got into his mouth. He made a happy noise, swallowed fast, and then—

WHOOSH.

He wiggled so hard with excitement he knocked over the bowl, flinging globs of orange puree into the air like a food-themed sprinkler system.

Artemis ducked. “Wally!!”

The spoon ricocheted off the table. A splash of sweet potato hit the wall. A lone chunk of apple puree plopped into her hair.

Wally clapped his sticky hands, grinning ear to ear. “YAY!”

She gave him a look. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“FOOD!” he yelled again, somehow managing to boop her nose with his mush-covered thumb.

She sighed and grabbed another bowl. “Alright. Round two. But if you destroy this kitchen, I’m feeding you while zip-tied to a wall.”

Wally’s only response was to grab a glob of applesauce in both hands and faceplant into it.

Chapter Text

After the battlefield that was dinner, Artemis had no choice but to throw Wally straight into the tub.

Literally.

“Soap up, speedster,” she warned, sleeves rolled up and sponge in hand. “You’ve got applesauce in your ear somehow.”

Wally, now squeaky clean and smelling like baby shampoo and citrus bubble bath, stood damp and defiant on the bathroom mat, swaddled in a bright red towel like a miniature cape.

And he had one goal: escape.

“Noooo dress!” he declared with all the righteous fury of a gremlin who had tasted freedom.

He bolted down the hallway, towel flapping behind him like a heroic (and slightly soggy) banner.

Artemis sighed, already walking after him at a casual pace. “Nice try, Lightning McStreak, but you haven’t unlocked your powers yet.”

Ten seconds later, she caught him by the towel.

“Gotcha.”

“NOOOO!” he protested as she scooped him up.

“Yeah yeah, betrayal of the highest order,” she deadpanned, carrying him back like a potato sack. “Let’s get your butt in some pajamas before you catch a cold.”

She sat him down and pulled out his pajamas—soft cotton, pale yellow with red trim and tiny lightning bolts all over. Wally pouted the whole time, arms crossed and nose scrunched.

But when Artemis started sliding the pajama shorts on, she snuck in a surprise—

Tickle tickle tickle.

“EEEEE!” Wally squealed, instantly giggling and flailing as she tickled his little feet.

“Ah, there’s that smile,” Artemis said, grinning. “Don’t think I won’t weaponize tickles again.”

Still giggling, Wally plopped down on his diapered butt, reached for his socks, and—clumsily, determinedly—pulled them on by himself.

One inside out. One upside down. But they were on.

Artemis blinked, then gave a quiet, proud smile. “Well look at you, big guy.”

Wally beamed up at her, cheeks flushed, hair damp and wild. The image of adorableness.

Chapter Text

It was a rare quiet afternoon in the Crock-West apartment.

Artemis sat cross-legged on the carpet, sipping iced tea, while Wally sat across from her with a brand new toy: a set of brightly colored stacking learning cups.

“Alright, little man,” she said, “let’s see what that genius brain of yours can do.”

Wally, tongue slightly sticking out in deep focus, carefully grabbed the biggest cup and set it down. Then the next biggest. Then the next. His eyes narrowed with intense concentration, little fingers moving with surprising care.

Cup after cup stacked perfectly on top of each other.

When he placed the tiniest one on top like a cherry on a sundae, he looked up with wide, proud eyes.

“Ta-DAAA!” he cheered, throwing his arms up.

Artemis grinned. “YES! Good job, Wally!”

She clapped, genuinely impressed—and Wally lit up, immediately mimicking her by slapping his palms together with exaggerated gusto. “Pah! Pah! Pah!”

She laughed. “That’s slapping a mosquito, not clapping, but close enough.”

Deciding to make it more fun, she gently dismantled the tower. “Alright, genius. One more time?”

Wally wiggled his fingers dramatically. His bright green eyes twinkled. And then—

ZOOOOOM!

In the blink of an eye, cups were gone from the floor—and stacked again in a perfect tower. It took less than half a second. Maybe a quarter of one.

Artemis blinked, wide-eyed. “Wait. Did you just—”

Wally squealed with glee, doing a little victory dance around his perfectly constructed stack, goggles slipping over one eye.

Artemis just stared at him, stunned. “Wally… that was your first actual burst of speed.”

Wally spun in a circle, flopped on his back, and grinned up at her like he knew exactly how awesome he was.

He pointed to the cups.

“Again?” Artemis asked, raising an eyebrow.

He nodded furiously.

“Well… alright, baby Flash. Just promise you won’t try to vibrate through the furniture. And we’re definitely going to the Watchtower after this.”

Chapter Text

“Let me get this straight,” Nightwing said, pinching the bridge of his nose while trying not to laugh. “Wally… crawled through the toy shelf. Literally.”

Artemis crossed her arms. “Yes. He phased. Through wood.”

“Guess he’s back,” Bart said, munching popcorn like this was a movie. “Did he at least grab a snack on the way through?”

“Do you think his baby metabolism can handle vibrational distortion?” M’gann wondered aloud.

Barry just grinned proudly. “That’s my boy.”

Batman, naturally, was less enthused. “We need controlled evaluations.”

“Moderate evaluations,” Artemis corrected, glowering. “I swear, if anyone sticks a power dampener on my toddler—”

“Nothing invasive,” Batman replied calmly. “But we do need to know how advanced his powers are.”

The lights dimmed, and a section of the space was cordoned off like a toddler-sized racetrack. Foam walls. Rubber floors. Speedster-proof safety netting. And a tiny starting line.

“Okay, Wally,” Barry knelt down with a wink. “You’re just gonna run from me to Bart, alright? No phasing through the floor this time.”

Wally stood at the line in his signature yellow tank top, red shorts, sneakers strapped on, and yes—his red goggles firmly in place. He looked very serious.

“Zoom?” he asked.

“Zoom,” Barry confirmed.

Wally leaned forward in a perfect little runner’s stance. Bart, across the room, grinned and gave him a thumbs-up.

“On your mark…”

“Get set…”

FWOOOSH.

Before “go” was even out, Wally disappeared from the starting line and zipped straight across, tackling Bart with a delighted squeal.

“Oof—he’s got your tackling form too, Grandpa,” Bart wheezed, brushing his hair back.

“Not bad,” Batman said, watching behind the glass with the Team. “He’s clocking low-level speed force bursts. Accelerating faster than expected.”

“He also just bit Bart’s shoelaces,” Zatanna pointed out.

Sure enough, Wally was sitting in the middle of the room gnawing happily on a lace, vibrating just enough to not get caught when Bart tried to grab him.

Artemis facepalmed. “I’m raising a chaos goblin with the power of a lightning bolt.”

Nightwing grinned. “You mean… again.”

Chapter Text

If there was one thing Artemis had learned in the past week, it was this:

Wally West could no longer be trusted on his own two feet.

Not in the grocery store.

Not in the Watchtower.

Not even in their own apartment.

The kid would vanish in a poof of wind and a trail of laughter if she so much as blinked. And finding him usually involved overturned furniture, suspiciously missing snacks, and sometimes, a confused Martian with peanut butter in her hair.

So, during one particularly stressful morning—after Wally had managed to run laps around the kitchen, scale the couch, and phase through the bathroom door just to splash in the toilet—Artemis decided it was time.

She got the harness.

Not just any harness. A reinforced, League-grade, friction-resistant toddler leash—complete with a retractable auto-coil tether, anti-vibration buckles, and an adjustable chest strap featuring a cartoon lightning bolt.

It was either that, or sedating him with cartoons all day. And even those only worked for fifteen minutes.

When she first put it on him, Wally blinked, looked down at the snug little vest strapped across his chest, then tugged the tether.

ZIIIP.

It snapped him gently but firmly back to her side with a little boing.

He blinked again. “Wha?”

Artemis smiled sweetly. “Oh, did I forget to mention? It retracts.”

Wally’s eyes narrowed. He zoomed forward—

ZIIIP.

Back he came.

He tried again. ZOOM—ZIIIP.

And again. ZOOM—ZIIIP.

After the third attempt, he looked up at her, eyes wide with betrayal. “Cheateeerrr!”

“Nope,” Artemis said, sipping her coffee like a victorious gladiator. “Mom.”

Chapter Text

It was supposed to be a peaceful afternoon.

Iris had prepped the living room—removed all breakables, set up soft rugs, and even laid out a few snacks in the faint hope that maybe— three toddlers with West/Allen DNA could behave for an hour.

Artemis arrived with Wally in tow, looking only slightly disheveled and holding the leash-harness like a survivor clinging to a lifeline.

“I just want to say I tried to leave him at the Watchtower,” Artemis said. “They locked the doors on me.”

Wally stood beside her, decked in his yellow tank, red goggles, and a dangerous level of confidence. His eyes scanned the room.

“It’s okay. Believe me, I know.” Iris rolled her eyes, and that’s when Wally saw them.

“Oh- right! Wally, these are mine and Barry’s kids, Don and Dawn Allen.” Iris explained sweetly, crouching down towards the three toddlers. She then turned her head to her children, “Don, Dawn, this is your cousin Wally. You’ve never seen him before because he was… indisposed.”

Wally stopped in his tracks. Because they both looked like carbon copies of Barry, with the same impish sparkle in their eyes and an energy that could’ve powered a city block.

They stood side-by-side like a two-kid phalanx. Silent. Calculating.

And for a solid fifteen seconds, no one moved.

Not a blink.

Not a breath.

Just staring.

Iris whispered, panic rising in her voice, “Oh no. Maybe they don’t like each other.”

But before she could launch into full-on Aunt Mode, Wally stepped forward—reaching out slowly—and placed a hand on Don’s shoulder like a wise little elder reuniting with long-lost brethren.

The tension shattered.

“TAG!” Wally yelled—then zoomed.

Dawn squealed. “NO FAIR!”

Don took off right behind him. “I’M IT!”

Three toddler speedsters exploded into motion, zipping across the room in bright-colored blurs. Laughter echoed. Cushions flew. Wally dove under the couch like a combat roll, Dawn phased through the coffee table, and Don ricocheted off the wall like a rubber ball.

“I’M THE FASTEST!” Wally yelled, zooming in reverse.

“NAH-UH!” Dawn shouted, launching into a spin.

Iris let out a sound that could only be described as a mother’s scream in slow motion.

“NO RUNNING IN THE HOU—OH GOD NOT THE LAMP—”

Crash.

Artemis flopped onto the couch and watched her son run on the ceiling. “Yeah. I’m gonna let you handle this one, Auntie Iris.”

Wally zipped by with a trail of giggles. “BEST! DAY! EVER!”

Chapter Text

Artemis barely had time to toss her hair up into a messy bun before the knock at the door came. She sighed, already suspecting who it was, and opened it to reveal Dick Grayson—casual jeans, dark jacket, and that half-smile that always meant he was both checking in and bracing himself for chaos.

“Thought I’d see how you were holding up,” he said. “And maybe how he’s holding up.”

Artemis stepped aside. “Brace yourself. He’s been… busy.”

The “busy” in question was currently sprawled on the carpet, crayons scattered around him, humming as he colored furious red scribbles across a page. Wally looked up the moment the door clicked shut. His big green eyes lit up.

“Rob!” he babbled, his face splitting into the brightest grin.

But Wally was already on his feet, arms stretched up as he toddled toward Dick.

“Rob! Rob!”

Dick froze for a heartbeat, eyes wide. Then he crouched, scooping the little speedster into his arms. Wally wrapped himself around Dick’s neck, giggling, repeating “Rob! Rob!” like it was the greatest word in the world.

Dick chuckled, but his throat tightened. “I haven’t been Robin in years, buddy,” he murmured, holding the boy close. “But… man, hearing you say it again—” He smiled into Wally’s hair. “—kinda makes me miss it.”

Artemis leaned against the wall, watching the scene unfold, her lips twitching into a soft smile despite herself. Wally’s tiny hands were patting at Dick’s cheeks like he was checking if his old friend was really there.

“Rob,” he declared one last time, before tucking his head against Dick’s shoulder with a happy sigh.

Dick exhaled, hugging him closer. “Missed you too, Wallman.”

Chapter Text

Artemis finally managed to wrangle her hyperactive toddler into his little red race car bed, complete with lightning bolt sheets and a stuffed pitbull nestled by his side.

Wally, still buzzing with residual energy, blinked up at her with those wide green eyes.

“Stowee?” he babbled, clutching his pacifier.

Artemis sighed, brushing his ginger hair off his forehead. “Alright, one story. But then you sleep. Got it?”

Wally nodded seriously, as though making a sacred pact. Then, with all the ceremony of a magician revealing a trick, he reached under his pillow and dragged out…

…a physics textbook.

Artemis froze. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

The book was massive, dense, with a title that made her want to pass out just looking at it: Quantum Kinetics and Applied Theoretical Mechanics, 4th Edition.

“Stowee,” Wally repeated, handing it over like treasure.

Artemis pinched the bridge of her nose. “Why couldn’t you want Goodnight Moon like every other toddler?”

Still, she opened the cursed tome and began to read, stumbling over every other sentence. “Uh… ‘The displacement of a particle over time can be calculated by… uh… differentiating the velocity vector with respect to—’”

She trailed off, glancing down.

Wally’s eyelids were already drooping, his tiny chest rising and falling steadily. His pacifier bobbed once, then stilled as he drifted into sleep.

Artemis let out a long, victorious exhale. “Finally.”

Carefully, she closed the textbook with two fingers as though it might bite her. Then she slid it across the carpet, as far away as physically possible, until it thunked safely against the wall.

“Never again,” she muttered, kissing Wally’s forehead before tiptoeing out. “Next time, you’re getting Dr. Seuss, you little nerd.”

Behind her, Wally gave a soft, sleepy giggle in his dreams.

Chapter Text

The rec room was tense.

On the big screen, three cars hurtled down a neon-lit track. Dick’s fingers danced across the controller, his eyes narrowing as Kaldur held the lead. Conner, hunched forward with all the focus of a soldier in battle, muttered under his breath like a mantra.

“Eyes on the prize… eyes on the prize…”

Kaldur’s car drifted flawlessly around a sharp turn—only for Dick to suddenly slap his free hand across Kaldur’s face.

“Grayson!” Kaldur sputtered, struggling to see as his car slammed into a barrier.

“Dirty tricks are fair game,” Dick said smugly, swerving into first place. And just as Conner was about to edge ahead—

“Hey boys,” Artemis called, stepping in with M’gann and Zatanna.

The trio turned. Zatanna was carrying a squirmy, bright-eyed Wally on her hip. “A certain someone wanted to bestow his lovings upon all of you.”

Dick gasped theatrically, clutching his chest. “You mean… my KF actually loves me?”

Wally wriggled free, hit the ground running (literally), and charged straight for Dick. He clambered into his lap and pressed his tiny freckled nose against Dick’s with a delighted giggle.

“Aw, buddy,” Dick laughed, rubbing back. “Okay, my day is officially made.”

Wally pulled back, clapped his little hands, and pointed. “Kah-duh next!”

Dick mock-pouted. “Guess I’ll share…”

Kaldur leaned down, still slightly exasperated from the video game sabotage, but allowed the toddler to rub his nose against his own. Wally beamed.

Finally, Conner crouched down, eyes wide. With a deliberately loud gasp, he asked, “Wally… can I get one too?”

Wally’s eyes twinkled. He giggled and zipped toward Conner, arms open.

But just before contact, Dick teased from the couch, “Oh, no, Conner doesn’t get one—he gets a knuckle sandwich.”

Conner smirked. “Good thing I’m hungry for a knuckle sandwich.”

“Knuckle sandwich!” Wally echoed, bouncing in place with all the seriousness of a war cry. He clenched his little fist, drew back like he was about to barrel into Conner’s chest—

—and then gently tapped Conner’s knuckles. “Nope! Chickun sandwich!”

Conner blinked, momentarily betrayed. “…What?”

“Chickun sandwich!” Wally repeated proudly, before collapsing into a fit of giggles.

Conner sighed, but the corner of his mouth betrayed a smile. “Yeah… that’s fair.”

Dick leaned back, victorious smirk plastered on his face. “Sorry, big guy. KF’s got jokes, too.”

Artemis, arms crossed but soft-eyed, chuckled. “Yeah. And apparently a very specific menu.”

Chapter Text

The Watchtower’s auxiliary training room had been repurposed that day—with the mats pushed aside and a stack of oversized flashcards leaning against the wall.

Black Canary knelt across from a six-year-old Wally West, who sat cross-legged in a bright yellow hoodie, red joggers, and his signature goggles perched on his forehead. He was twirling a pencil in his fingers fast enough to make it hum like a mini turbine.

"Alright, Kid Comet," she said with a smirk. "Today, we’re working on your ‘R’ sounds again."

Wally nodded solemnly, looking both determined and deeply skeptical.

“Let’s start with something simple,” she said, flipping a flashcard with bold red letters. “Say: Red Rover.”

Wally scrunched his nose and gave it a go.

“Wed Wobah.”

He immediately groaned and smacked his forehead with both hands. “Ugh, I hate Rs.”

“You’re still learning,” Canary said gently. “You’ve got a grown-up brain stuffed in a kid-size mouth. That’s a lot of gears to line up.”

She reached over and tapped his chin lightly. “Try again. But this time… say it with a big smile.”

Wally frowned. “Why?”

“Smiling opens your mouth just right. It’ll help your tongue hit the right spot. Trust me, speech therapy and martial arts—I know what I’m doing.”

Wally sighed but obediently grinned—wide and cheesy, like he’d just eaten three cookies and gotten away with it.

“Red Rover!”

It wasn’t perfect, but it was miles better.

Black Canary smiled. “There it is. See? Told you your mouth just needed a little backup.”

Wally blinked, then gave her a double thumbs-up.

Black Canary leaned back on her heels and chuckled. “He’s getting there.”

Artemis—watching from the doorway with a coffee and a deeply amused expression—shook her head. “At least he’s not calling Batman ‘Bah-man’ anymore.”

“Give it time,” Canary said.

Chapter Text

The West-Allen household was alive with laughter, clinking dishes, and the warm buzz of reunited family.

There was a ton of food, a lot of fast-talking, and laughter that bounced off the walls like ping-pong balls.

Artemis sat at the dinner table next to Wally—who was carefully unpeeling a roll at superspeed—while Barry passed the mashed potatoes, and Iris caught Bart trying to sneak pie before dinner with a motherly death glare.

Jay Garrick sat at the head of the table, smiling fondly at the sight of the next generation bickering over who got the last dinner roll.

For once, things were normal. Until Bart, cutting into his cornbread, casually said, “Y’know, I still can’t believe Wally came back through childbirth. Like—actual childbirth. That’s gotta be the weirdest return-from-the-dead story ever.”

Wally beamed. “I was awesome!”

Artemis gave him a kiss on the head. “Weirdest nine months of my life.”

Barry laughed, shaking his head. “Yeah, kiddo, that’s a one-in-a-million Speed Force story right there.”

Then he froze. His fork clinked softly on his plate.

Everyone noticed.

“...Babe?” Iris asked.

Barry slowly turned to her.

“If... Wally came back that way,” he said cautiously, “then hypothetically, if I ever died and came back the same way... you’d have to...”

Iris immediately dropped her fork. “Nope. We are not talking about this.”

“But like—would you? Would the Speed Force do that to you?”

“You mean,” Bart said slowly, going pale, “you come back as my— dad? Grandpa-Dad?!”

Artemis snorted.

Wally nearly fell off his chair laughing.

“No. Absolutely not. I am not giving birth to my husband, Barry!”

Barry stared into the void. “What would that mean for the family tree? If I got reborn as my own son, and Bart’s my grandson... but also kind of my...”

“...Uncle-brother-grandson,” Bart whispered, horrified.

Everyone turned as Jay Garrick, calmly sipping tea in the corner, muttered, “Thank the stars Joan passed on already. I don’t even want to imagine what the Speed Force would’ve done with our arrangement.”

“Maybe it’s random?” Barry said nervously.

Artemis waved a fork. “Not random. Wally said he needed an emotional tether. I was that. That’s why he came back through me.”

“Right,” Iris deadpanned. “So if you ever die, Barry, maybe try getting less emotionally attached to me before you fall into an extradimensional energy field.”

“Noted,” Barry said, paling. Then buried his face in his hands, groaning. “This is officially the worst family dinner I’ve ever been to.”

“Not for me,” Wally piped up cheerfully, stabbing a carrot with his fork. “This is hilarious.”

Chapter Text

The West-Allen-Garrick-Crock family were still processing the sudden dread about what it meant to die and then come back through birth, when two tiny forces of nature made everything more chaotic.

Don and Dawn Allen.

They watched Wally with identical expressions of wide-eyed suspicion.

He was... talking in full sentences.

He was… walking around like a grown-up.

And worst of all?

He could reach the top shelf where the cookies were.

Dawn pouted and clutched her toy bunny.

Don crossed his arms and looked very betrayed by the universe.

The twins exchanged a wordless look—the unspoken bond of siblings with one singular thought. And then… they started jumping.

Tiny, determined hops. Over and over again. Barefoot. Red-faced. Full of toddler fury and hope.

No words. Just pure conviction.

Boing. Boing. Boing.

Wally narrowed his eyes at their direction. “...What are they doing?”

Iris sighed, suddenly looking like she aged fifty years. “Don and Dawn want to ‘grow up fast like Cousin Wally.’”

“So… they’re jumping?” Barry looked utterly confused.

Artemis grinned. “Makes as much sense as the Speed Force logic that brought Wally back.”

Dawn kept jumping. “Gonna be biiiiig!”

Don grunted with effort. “Tall like Wawwy!”

Barry slowly turned to Wally. “This is your fault.”

Wally shrugged. “Don’t blame me. I was born again this way.”

Iris marched over and gently picked up the twins mid-jump.

“No more growing-by-jumping today,” she said firmly. “Go drink your milk and earn your inches the normal way.”

“But—!” they protested in unison.

“No ‘but,’” Iris snapped, looking every bit like a woman raising speedsters in a world of nonsense.

Wally whispered to the twins as they passed, “Try spinach next time. I think the Speed Force likes leafy greens.”

The twins gasped.

Barry groaned. “Why would you tell them that?!”

Chapter Text

Artemis dropped her bag by the door and kicked off her shoes.

“Finally—long day, grading papers…” she muttered, rubbing her temples. “Now I can just—OH MY GOD!”

Artemis yelped as she turned the corner into the living room.

Sitting cross-legged on her couch like she owned the place was none other than Jade. Maskless, relaxed, and smirking. On her lap sat an old photo album—one Artemis knew she’d hidden under her bed years ago.

Next to her, Wally giggled so hard he nearly fell over. “Jade, show me that one again!”

Jade flipped the page with exaggerated flourish. “Ah yes… classic. Artemis, age six, covered head to toe in chocolate cake. Look at that face—pure criminal mischief.”

Artemis’s jaw dropped. “You—how—WHAT are you doing here?!”

“Bonding,” Jade said sweetly, wrapping an arm around Wally’s shoulders. “You know, in-law quality time. Aunt and nephew. Family stuff.”

Artemis’s face burned. “That’s not in-law bonding, that’s straight-up blackmail material!”

“Semantics,” Jade replied, smirking as she turned the page again. “Ooooh, and here’s the one of you in the tutu recital. You cried because the sequins itched.”

Wally cackled, clutching his sides. “Artie, you looked so funny!”

“TRAITOR!” Artemis jabbed a finger at him. “Don’t laugh at this! She’s corrupting you!”

“Correction,” Jade said smoothly. “I’m enlightening him. Every kid deserves to know how lame their ‘parents’ used to be.” She winked at Wally. “Isn’t that right, kiddo?”

Wally nodded furiously, still giggling.

Artemis groaned, burying her face in her hands. “I swear, one of these days…”

Chapter Text

Artemis slid a cutting board full of diced onions into the sizzling pan while Wally carefully (and a little too slowly) stirred the sauce with a wooden spoon. He was concentrating so hard his tongue poked out of the corner of his mouth.

Then, without warning, he said, “Grandma Paula’s Vietnamese, right?”

Artemis froze mid-stir of her own pan. “…Yeah? Why?”

Wally nodded seriously, still stirring. “So that makes you half-Vietnamese. Which makes me quarter-Vietnamese…Technically.” He emphasized the word with the gravitas of a scientist declaring a breakthrough.

Artemis blinked at him, the corners of her mouth twitching. “…Wally, where did that even come from?”

He shrugged, finally looking up at her with a little grin. “Dunno. Just thought it was cool. Means I’m extra special.”

Rolling her eyes, Artemis ruffled his already-messy ginger hair. “You were already special, dummy. But yeah… I guess you’re technically a quarter-Vietnamese speedster.”

Wally puffed up proudly, setting the spoon down like he’d just accomplished something monumental. “Fastest quarter-Vietnamese kid alive.”

Artemis laughed despite herself, muttering, “God, you’re impossible.”

Chapter Text

The apartment was quiet except for the sound of papers shuffling. Artemis sat at the dining table, red pen in hand, while Wally perched cross-legged on a chair beside her, his tongue sticking out in concentration as he looked over a student’s essay.

“I gotta say, though,” Wally went on, tapping the essay with the back of the pen she’d given him, “I never pictured you as a professor. Archer, fighter, vigilante, sure. But grading college kids’ essays about Shakespeare?” He grinned up at her. “That’s a plot twist.”

Artemis set aside a finished paper, lips quirking. “I like it, okay? Literature’s been my thing since forever. It’s nice to have a job where I can actually use it. Makes me feel… normal.”

For a moment, Wally looked at her softly. His affection for her accentuated by the natural softness of his chubby freckled cheeks.

Then, he leaned back in his chair and folded his arms smugly. “Well, if any of your students ever give you trouble, just tell them their papers were graded by a six-year-old.” He tapped his chest proudly. “Instant humiliation.”

Artemis blinked at him—then broke into laughter, covering her face with one hand. “God, Wally, don’t you dare tell anyone that.”

Wally’s grin only widened. “No promises.”

Chapter Text

Artemis was sitting cross-legged on the balcony, sipping her lemonade while Wally sat beside her, his little legs swinging idly as he drank his own lemonade from a straw. A soft breeze carried the scent of the nearby flowers, and the city hummed faintly in the distance.

Then, something delicate landed on Wally’s nose.

He froze.

Artemis blinked. “Wally… do you see that?”

The six-year-old’s eyes were wide and focused. A tiny orange-and-black butterfly had perched on the tip of his nose, and Wally wasn’t moving a muscle, not even blinking, as if his entire being had shrunk to avoid disturbing it.

Artemis’s heart melted. “Oh my god… hold still, don’t move.”

She fumbled for her phone, holding it up carefully. Wally’s gaze was locked forward, so concentrated it was almost funny, though incredibly adorable.

Click.

She snapped the picture just as the butterfly fluttered its wings, sensing it was time to go. With a gentle whisp, it lifted off, leaving Wally blinking and staring after it, a small, awed smile tugging at his lips.

“Good job. That was perfect.” Artemis whispered, crouching to pat his head.

Wally grinned. “I like butterflies.”

Artemis tucked her phone away, glancing at the screen and thinking how rare these little moments were. “Yeah… me too, kiddo. Me too.”

For once, the tiny speedster’s hyperactive energy was replaced by stillness, and it was quietly magical.

Chapter Text

Artemis walked into Wally’s room, surveying the organized chaos of toys, plushies, and blocks. He had outgrown most of the baby and toddler gear, and it was finally time to figure out what to do with it all.

“Wally,” she began, crouching to his level, “what do you want to do with all your old toys? Your baby stuff, the blocks, the plushies…”

He paused, thinking seriously, his little hands folded in his lap. “Hmm…” He tapped his chin with a finger. “I… I think I want to donate them.”

Artemis blinked. “Donate them?”

Wally nodded solemnly. “Yeah. There are a lot of kids out there who don’t have toys like I did. I want them to have fun… like I did. And maybe it’ll make them happy.”

Artemis felt her chest tighten with pride. She crouched lower, ruffling his red hair affectionately. “Wally… that’s really sweet. I’m proud of you.”

He grinned up at her, eyes bright. “Thanks, Artie.”

She smiled, standing and stretching. “Okay, let’s make a plan. We’ll pack them up, find some kids who’ll enjoy them, and make it happen. Deal?”

“Deal!” Wally said, bouncing on the balls of his feet with excitement, already imagining the joy his old toys could bring.

Artemis watched him for a moment, her heart full. This was her little speedster, growing up so fast, yet keeping that big heart of his intact.

Chapter Text

Will Harper’s home was modest and lived-in—childproofed corners, soft toys tucked into bins, and the unmistakable scent of apple juice and markers lingering in the air.

Six years old and full of nerves, Wally stood behind Artemis, peeking around her leg as she rang the doorbell. He tugged at the hem of his yellow hoodie, goggles resting on his forehead like a shield.

The door opened, and Will smiled. “Hey.”

Artemis gave him a quick nod. “Thanks again for having us over.”

“Always. Come on in—Lian’s been excited all day.”

Inside, the sound of tiny feet on hardwood echoed before a blur of brown hair and mismatched socks zoomed in from the living room.

Three-year-old Lian Harper skidded to a stop in front of them, eyes lighting up the moment she saw Wally.

“YOU!” she squealed.

Wally blinked. “...Me?”

Lian held up a slightly worn, hand-stitched Kid Flash doll with a wide, proud grin. “I know who you are! You’re Kid Flash! Auntie Mouse told me lots of stories!”

Wally flushed pink instantly. “She… did?”

Artemis chuckled softly behind him, ruffling his hair.

Lian nodded so hard Wally feared her head might pop off. “She said you were the fastest, silliest hero ever! And that you always helped people! And that you loved her so much that you zoomed into space!”

Wally scratched the back of his neck. “I guess I kinda did.”

Lian’s smile softened. She hugged the doll tightly to her chest and said, “I wanted to be a hero too. So I could find you and bring you back. I didn’t want Auntie Mouse to be sad anymore.”

Artemis’ breath caught.

Wally stared at her, wide-eyed, unsure what to say. Then, very slowly, he stepped forward and stood in front of Lian.

“You already are a hero,” he said quietly. “You helped bring me back just by loving her that much.”

Lian’s eyes sparkled. “Does that mean I get a sidekick name?”

Wally grinned. “Only if I get to help you pick it.”

“Deal!”

From behind them, Will quietly watched the exchange with crossed arms and a faint smile. “She’s had that doll since she was two,” he said to Wally. “Wouldn’t let go of it. Not even during nap time. I think she always believed you’d come back, just like her stories said.”

Wally looked up at his girlfriend-turned-kinda-sorta-mother, his expression softer than usual.

And Lian, clinging his hand like they’d been best friends forever, held her Kid Flash doll close to his chest and declared: “You’re back now. So no more running away, okay?”

Wally smiled. “Okay.”

Chapter Text

Artemis had braced herself for the worst.

Toys scattered across the floor, snack wrappers under the bed, clothes somehow both on and off the dresser—Wally West, even at six, had the potential to turn his room into a disaster zone faster than the average person could say, “Whirlwind.”

So when she stepped into his room one quiet afternoon, she froze.

Because everything. Was. Perfect.

Books neatly aligned on the shelf, color-coded by spine. Toys stored by size and theme in labeled bins. Clothes folded and sorted. The blanket on the bed pulled tight enough to bounce a coin. His pitbull plushie sat at the pillow like a silent sentinel.

And in the center of it all, Wally looked up at her with those big innocent green eyes, chubby freckled cheeks with an adorable grin as if everything was normal.

“Uh… did someone sneak in here and do this?” Artemis asked, suspicious.

“Nope,” Wally said, casually bouncing on the balls of his feet. “I did it.”

“In five minutes?”

“Three minutes, seventeen seconds.” He beamed. “I timed myself. New record.”

Artemis raised an eyebrow. “And... you wanted to clean?”

Wally shrugged. “I like knowing where everything is. Besides, it’s my mess. I made it, I fix it.”

That caught her off guard. He sounded so serious—so grown.

He zipped over to his toy bin, gently straightening a building block that had tilted sideways. “Speed isn’t just for fun. It’s for doing things right. I remember that now.”

Artemis didn’t say anything right away. She just smiled a little.

“Well,” she finally said, “guess that makes you the fastest neat freak on Earth.”

Wally gave her a look. “Meticulously efficient,” he corrected, with mock dignity.

Then he zoomed over and gave her a quick hug before darting back to line up his socks by shade.

She watched him go, arms crossed and heart full.

“Fast,” she whispered, “and growing up even faster.”

Chapter Text

Artemis stepped into the apartment, kicking off her shoes and letting out a tired sigh.

“Home at last,” she murmured. And then she was suddenly wrapped in the tightest, fastest hug imaginable.

“Artie! You’re back! I missed you!”

Artemis blinked, holding on for a second before realizing who had tackled her.

Twelve-year-old Wally West, fully grown in child-form but still with that mischievous sparkle in his eyes, was beaming at her. “I’ve got no time to chat! Gotta go play now!”

Before she could respond, he zoomed to the door, soccer ball tucked under his arm, leaving nothing but a blur and a faint whoosh behind him.

Artemis laughed, shaking her head as she stood. “They say kids grow up fast,” she murmured to herself, “but Wally… he’s rewriting the rulebook.”

Four months had passed since he was reborn, and already he was completely unstoppable. Truly, this was a kid who was knocking every child out of the park—literally and figuratively.

With a soft chuckle, Artemis went to put her bag down, thinking, Better start keeping up… because he’s not slowing down for anyone.

Chapter Text

The Watchtower training room smelled faintly of rubber mats and leftover protein bars. Bart walked in, yawning and stretching after a morning patrol, when he froze mid-step.

“Wait… is that…?”

Before him stood Wally West tugging on a costume that made Bart’s jaw nearly hit the floor: his old Impulse outfit. The red and white costume looked perfect, smaller but fitting Wally’s faster-than-ever frame.

Bart’s mouth went dry. “No way… no way.”

Wally glanced at him, a small, knowing smile tugging at his lips. “Yep. I’m Impulse now. Feels right. I mean… I gave you the Kid Flash mantle before I, you know… ‘died.’ So it feels… adequate.”

Bart’s eyes welled up instantly. “Wally… I—”

Before he could stop himself, Bart leapt forward and hugged Wally tightly. “I just missed you so much!”

Wally squealed in protest, flailing his arms. “Bart! Don’t—don’t get used to it! I’m going to take the Flash mantle once I’m an adult, like— two months from now! You can’t—ugh!”

Barr just held on tighter, tears spilling down his cheeks. “I don’t care! You’re here, and that’s all that matters!”

Wally’s eyes softened despite his struggles. “Okay… fine… but don’t suffocate me, geez.”

They stood there for a long moment, the only sounds being Bart’s sniffles and Wally’s half-laughing, half-protesting protests.

Chapter Text

The park was quiet that afternoon, the kind of tucked-away place where hardly anyone came. Artemis had picked it on purpose—somewhere Wally could cut loose without prying eyes.

She sat on a bench, arms folded, watching her twelve-year-old speedster zip back and forth across the grass with a baseball and bat in hand.

“Okay, bases loaded, West up to bat!” Wally announced in a booming sportscaster voice that carried across the field. He twirled the bat dramatically, then blurred across the park to pitch the ball to himself.

Crack!

The ball shot high into the air. Before it could fall, Wally dashed across the grass, caught it mid-air as the outfielder, then blurred back to home plate to smack it again.

Artemis chuckled, shaking her head as she watched the spectacle. He was every position at once—pitcher, batter, outfield, even umpire. At one point, he called a strike on himself, then argued furiously with… himself.

“Come on, that was clearly a ball!” Wally protested, stomping his foot before zipping back into position.

“You’re blind, ump!” he yelled from a second spot, then laughed at his own antics before resuming the game.

Artemis leaned back, a smile tugging at her lips. For all the craziness of the past months, he was still a kid who just wanted to play. And watching him blur across the diamond, grinning like nothing else mattered, reminded her why she kept fighting to give him a chance at life again.

“Home run!” Wally shouted, dashing the bases so fast the dust barely had time to rise behind him. He stopped in front of Artemis, chest puffed out proudly. “See that? West wins again!”

Artemis smirked, crossing her arms. “Pretty impressive. But if you’re playing every position, doesn’t that technically mean you also lost?”

Wally blinked, then groaned. “…Don’t ruin it, Artie.”

She laughed, pulling him into a side hug. “Fine, fine. You win. Just don’t expect me to play—I don’t have super speed.”

Wally grinned up at her. “That’s okay. You can be my cheering section.”

And for the rest of the afternoon, that’s exactly what she was.

Chapter Text

Central City was in chaos. The sirens wailed as alarms blared through the streets, the Rogues wreaking havoc as usual. Barry zoomed alongside Wally, now fully donning his bright white-and-red Impulse costume.

“Stay behind me, Wally,” Barry called. “I’ve got a read on their pattern—”

“Too slow, Uncle Barry!” Wally shot forward in a blur, leaving Barry behind as he zipped straight to the center of the chaos.

Micro-fractions later, Wally was already standing in front of the Rogues, who had momentarily ceased their vandalism to stare.

“Hey, losers! You’re about two seconds too late!” Wally quipped. Then the Rogues froze, eyes wide. Captain Cold’s freeze gun lowered slightly. Mirror Master tilted his head, confused. Heatwave blinked. “Wait… that hair—”

“What do you mean?” Wally asked, frowning. “You guys are acting weird.”

Captain Cold took a deep breath, voice tight. “You’re… you’re not Impulse. That hair—it’s red. That’s… that’s Kid Flash. Baby Flash. You died. We were at your funeral. Some of us even broke out of prison just to… to pay our respects.”

Wally’s grin faltered. “Wait. What? You mean—“

Heatwave muttered under his breath. “We all remember… how could this… this doesn’t make sense!”

Wally tilted his head, hands on his hips. “Well… surprise! I’m back. And yes, I’m still me. Same red hair, same memories, same cheeky attitude. Just… slightly younger.”

Mirror Master groaned, pressing his hands to his face. “Why… why does this feel worse than a punch to the face?”

Wally smirked, “Guess you guys need a refresher course. Lesson one: don’t underestimate the original Kid Flash. Lesson two: I’m not just back—I’m faster, and I still have jokes.”

Barry finally caught up, skidding to a stop beside Wally. “Uh… maybe don’t rub it in too much,” he muttered, giving Wally a side-eye.

Wally just grinned, zooming circles around the Rogues before the first punch was even thrown. “Lesson three: you’re not getting away today!”

The Rogues froze again, and in absolute terror but also relief, they realized that their Baby Flash truly was back and kicking butt again.

Chapter Text

Artemis sat at the small kitchen table, carefully sharpening a set of arrows, while Wally lounged nearby, flipping through a comic book with one leg draped over the arm of the couch.

“Almost done…” Artemis murmured, inspecting the tip of an arrow. But then—a slip. A tiny sting, a thin line of blood, and a curse escaped her lips.

Wally was instantly up, eyes wide. “Artie! Are you—are you okay?” He dashed to her side in a blur, crouching down to get a better look.

“I’m fine,” Artemis said quickly, shaking her head and trying to wave him off. “Just a scratch.”

But inwardly, frustration burned. A voice that sounded suspiciously like her father scorned her in her mind.

I trained you as an archer since before you hit puberty, baby girl. You should be better than this. No daughter of Sportsmaster can commit such a laughable mistake. You’re gonna make me look bad.

She shut her eyes, as if trying to will that voice (and the memories that came with it) out.

Wally stayed quiet, studying her finger. Then, unexpectedly, he reached out and took her hand gently. He leaned forward, his small palms vibrating just above the cut. Artemis froze, unsure of what he was doing.

A soft hum filled the air, and she watched, speechless, as the cut slowly closed before her eyes, the redness fading until her finger was completely healed.

“…Wally?” she whispered, staring at him. “How… how did you do that?”

He shrugged casually, as if it were nothing. “Speedsters can heal themselves fast, right? But my connection to the Speed Force… it lets me accelerate the natural healing process for other people too. I just vibrated the molecules in your finger the same way my body would.”

Artemis blinked, still processing. “…So… you just… healed me?”

“Yup,” Wally said, grinning like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Pretty cool, huh?”

Artemis shook her head, a mix of awe and disbelief on her face. “This… this changes everything. Your connection to the Speed Force… it’s giving you abilities no one’s ever seen before.”

Wally’s grin widened, but there was a spark of seriousness in his eyes. “Yeah… I think so.”

Artemis studied him for a moment, letting the weight of the realization sink in. This wasn’t just her lover back—this was a new Wally West, one who could keep up with her in ways even she hadn’t imagined.

And somehow, that thought made her proud… and maybe just a little nervous.

Chapter Text

Artemis sat at the kitchen table long after dinner plates had been cleared, an untouched cup of tea cooling in her hands. She didn’t even notice she was staring off until Wally slid into the chair across from her, crayon still smudged on his fingers from whatever doodle he’d been working on.

“You’re doing it again,” he said lightly.

“Doing what?” she asked, her voice sharper than intended.

“Thinking too loud.” Wally leaned his chin on his hand, watching her. He was twelve now, but in moments like this, there was an oldness in his eyes that had nothing to do with age.

Artemis exhaled, pressing her palms together. “…Sometimes I don’t know if I’m cut out for this. My dad trained me like a soldier before I even had a childhood. My sister ran off the second things got bad. My mom… I’ve been taking care of her since before I was old enough to know what that meant. And now here I am, supposed to be looking after you.”

Her voice cracked, and she tried to cover it with a bitter laugh. “What kind of role model does that even make me?”

For a long moment, Wally didn’t say anything. Then he reached across the table and tapped her knuckles, gently.

“A better one than I ever had,” he said, with a firmness that left no room for doubt. “My parents—Rudolph, Mary—they were miserable people who made sure I was miserable too. They weren’t bad at parenting because they didn’t know how. They were bad because they didn’t care.”

Artemis looked up sharply, but Wally kept going.

“You care. You try. That’s… everything. You don’t have to be perfect. You don’t even have to know all the answers. Just the fact that you’re here, putting in the effort? That already makes you ten times better than them.”

The words hit her harder than she expected. Her throat tightened. She opened her mouth, but all that came out was a shaky, “…You really think so?”

Wally gave her a crooked little grin, the kind only he could manage. “Nah. I know so.”

For the first time all evening, Artemis laughed softly. She reached across the table, threading her fingers through his messy red hair and ruffling it. “You’re a brat, you know that?”

“Yeah,” Wally said, grinning wider. “But I’m your brat.”

And just like that, some of the weight she’d been carrying eased, even if only a little.