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It was a dark and stormy night - at least that's how these stories go. Wind beat against the side of the house at speeds not worth thinking about, leaving Wally Allen, his wife and his mom trapped inside by the elements. Nature in all of its fury scared them back into their shelter and whipped up phantoms to encircle them; phantoms – and a lone, terrified figure that came beating on their door.

At times like these Wally was at his most vulnerable. He had no powers to defend against the terrors of the world, not like his old man, and the people he cared about most were huddled inside, relying on him for safety. Could they count on him? Maybe, so long as he had his baseball bat. God help him, it was that and his jockey shorts.

Daring to pull the door open he never would have expected a teenage girl wearing a leather jacket over a red and yellow costume, reaching to him with panic in her eyes and clasping onto him for dear life. “NotimetoexplainwehavetogetoutofhereNOW!” she blurted – it was all she managed to say before collapsing to the ground.

Wally was pulled down as she fell. What the hell was going on? Who was this girl, and why was she wearing this costume? Did she know his dad? Don? Dawn? All of these questions turned a hundred times in his head before realizing through the shock that the girl needed medical attention.

He slipped his arms beneath her and carried her to the sofa. She was heavier than she looked, no doubt the bi-product of having an athletic physique. She was hard, just like his father – a runner. Again the question hammered in the back of his mind, who was she?

Linda was the first to appear from hiding. The look on her face said it all. Of all the things she expected to find when she stepped out that last would have been her husband nursing a young woman back to health.

“What's going on?”

“I wish I had an answer for you,” he muttered and moved the girl so that she was flat on her back and able to breathe comfortably. “Can you, uh, I don't know, get some water, or something?”

Linda nodded and left for the kitchen, leaving Wally and their visitor alone again. There was something familiar about her, though he'd never laid eyes on her in his life, which only became more evident when he removed her glasses. The feeling only jumped out more when he pulled her mask away and took note of the straight, boyish red hair that fell over her face. Could she be...?

“Do you know her?”

Wally jumped, having been taken off guard. The girl was hypnotic, so much so that he hadn't heard his mom stepping into the room.

“I was going to ask you the same thing,” he gasped.

Iris shrugged. “I've never seen her before in my life.”

The weather howled and the house groaned, as if to remind them of the danger they'd felt only a minute ago. Wally tensed, swallowed the hard lump in his throat, and remembered what had been blurted to him, but why? What was coming for them?

“What do you think the costume means?” he wondered aloud.

“Maybe it means she knows Barry,” she mused, “or that she's one of us, but from the future, or some other parallel universe. Who knows?”

“You talk about these things like they happen every day.”

Wally was quick to laugh off the idea…his mother not so much.

“Your father is the Flash,” she told him. “Things like this do happen every day.”

The girl stirred, a sliver of her eye appearing through the waking cracks. Wally sat by her, ran a hand down her shoulder, and prepared to guide her if she tried to sit up too fast. What he didn't expect was the first word to come out of her mouth after he asked if she was okay to be “Dad...?”

He blinked once, twice, three times – then he blinked some more. At no point did reality defy his astonishment that the girl had said just what he thought she said, right? For a fleeting moment he dared to think it was a coincidence, but then his mom had said it herself: Flashes were close knit and these things did happen.

“Well, I guess that answers that question.”

Her eyes snapped open and the rest of her upright. Before they'd even had a chance to settle her the girl had her hands on Wally's shoulders, telling him, “We have to go, now!”

Wally resisted and pulled away, backing to the doorway his wife had just entered. “Hold on, sister, or... daughter, or...whoever you are,” he said. “You're scaring me and, even worse, you’re scaring my family. I'm not going anywhere until you explain to us who you are and what it is you're–”

The lights went out, and as the room seemed to stretch out into a shadowy chasm the wind howled, sharpening the tension and making it more palpable. Wally reeled, balled his fists and reached once more for the bat – so desperate was he for control that he'd disregarded the other danger he'd been warned about. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

“We have to go,” the girl said.

Wally had other things on his mind. “Linda!” He fumbled, searching for his mom and took her arm when he found her. He had to keep her safe, keep his wife safe, keep their unborn child safe. Maybe it was a false alarm, but here was this girl, possibly an incarnation of the child they were waiting for, warning them.

“Wally, what's going on?” she called.

“Hit the alarm!” he called. It might have been extreme but it was better to be safe than sorry. Besides, that's why the Justice League had installed systems in their home – loved ones were always at risk. What good were they if they weren't used when needed?

Unfortunately Linda never made it to the panel, not before the wind struck again…the wind, and a fist carrying the quantified mass of a 747 in flight. With a single blow the wall flew away and the reverberating force sent the woman flying back. The shelter had been compromised, invaded by the elements and a sinister figure clad in gold.

Wally stared, trying to make out the shape through the wind stinging his eyes. If he didn't know better he could have sworn that it was his father, Barry, but what was he doing wearing that costume?

“Hello, Wally,” he mused. The voice was definitely not his father's. “It's good to see you again, though you probably don't remember me.”

He'd never met the monster, he couldn't have, there was no way could Wally have ever forgotten a voice so thick with malice. He stumbled back, instinctively blocking the path that led to his family. Never had he come face to face with such hatred. It was like something from out of a nightmare, like one of those stories that even the Flash was afraid to tell.

Before he'd even blinked the scenery changed. One moment he was standing on guard, the next he was being cradled in the arms of a figure half the size of him! Though Wally couldn't see through the stinging in his eyes he knew it was the girl stealing control out of his hands. What was she doing? She might have gotten someone killed! His life didn't matter so much, but Linda...

“Go back!” he barked, but the girl didn't listen.

“I can't! I have to get you to safety!”

Fighting the teen wasn't an option. Against the g-forces she plowed through he was like a rag doll, holding on for dear life. One wrong move and he'd fall back into the slipstream – the old man had given him ample warning on the subject, especially if Wally was interested in keeping his legs.

His eyes watered as they were whipped, but through the tears he could make out her face. Was this really his daughter? It would explain the resemblance, but it seemed so...impossible! Still, it was something to cling to.

“What about your mother?” he whispered, hoping that it would jar her.

It didn't. Kid Flash kept her resolve and her course, now skipping over the waters connecting Central City to Keystone. She was going to follow her own path, even if it was one born out of stubbornness – that, Wally supposed, was the West genes coming out in her.

In the split seconds it took her to cover the next five miles he formulated an appeal, one that he was sure would work. This girl would have to be heartless not to have fallen for it; it seemed a waste that he didn't get to use it.

BWOOOOOOOSH! The explosion of a fire hydrant!

KRISHH! KRISHH! KRISHH! Shop windows bursting into showers of glass!

There were screams and cries of panic, or at least snippets of them as he was stolen away from the scene. Why was she running?

“What about them?” he demanded. “You have to do something!”

The girl gritted her teeth. “I am doing something! I'm saving your butt!”

“To hell with me!” Wally told her. “You're a Flash! You have to go and help those people! If you don't then you're a disgrace to those colors!”

That, it seemed, struck a chord, and one which he wasn't proud to admit that he was aiming for. Whatever, something had to be done. His life wasn't a priority while the city was being torn apart. If he'd had the power his alleged daughter did he wouldn't have thought twice about turning back.

“You just don't get it,” she choked. “If I can't save you, then I can't save anyone!”

Just as he was about to chastise her again the ground shifted. Around them, a yellow blur drew around like a noose. Another speedster? It was then that Wally knew that it was the man from his kitchen. He didn't have to see his face to be in absolute terror of him.

It had only been a minute, but that was all it took for him to create suffering in his family. Even worse than the speedster and his vendetta was the thought of his wife, dead, and his mother. All of the things that could have been done…their necks twisted, their bodies stuffed into the refrigerator for his father to find, or worse.

“Linda...”

The girl started to shiver. Was she shivering? No, there was too much control, too much determination – she was starting to vibrate, so hard and so fast that it looked as though she were breaking apart. For a fleeting moment Wally wondered if he would walk away from this with all of his limbs.

“Hold on,” she grunted, forcing herself down the track. With a mighty boom she split into a multitude of directions, still with her supposed father in her arms.

Wally was stunned. How were there five of her and five of him with the others darting into the horizon? He almost forgot her instruction as she stepped into overdrive, propelling them closer to what he imagined was the speed field. Such a sensation he'd never felt before: it was cool, not something he'd expect after breaking sub-quantum velocity.

Next he noticed the yellow blur was gone. Did that mean they were safe? Either way, the girl was still running and he had no intention of stopping her.

---

It was morning and Wally was all too aware of the fact that he was standing at a truck stop a dozen counties from his home in his jockey shorts. Every eye was on him, not the girl in the spandex and the leather jacket, but him. They pawed over him with laughter and confusion, as though he were a man with a story to tell. He couldn't help thinking it might have been funny if it started with alcohol, not a maniac blowing his wall open.

“I, uh, need to make a phone call,” Wally said, suddenly realizing that he was without pockets. Lucky for him his 'daughter' was nice and didn't need to be asked to cough up a quarter. Were he in her shoes he mightn't have done the same, especially after the attitude he'd given her.

He crossed the diner, trying his best to cover himself. For a moment he managed to relax, but only after hearing the voice of his wife on the other end of the line. Everything was okay – they'd only had a good scare. Now the local PD and a couple of JLA reservists were on guard, meaning Wally could breathe a sigh of relief.

“Thank god,” he uttered, seconds before the call dropped. “Should have called collect,” he sighed, not that it really mattered. He could have listened to Linda all day so long as they had a connection. Evil had never struck so close to home before, and it put him on edge.

Turning back to the gawkers in the diner he shuffled toward the junior speedster, who in turn offered him her jacket. It was too small for him, only stretching halfway across his chest and only reaching to his forearms, but it was a gesture he sorely needed – anything to help cover up was good enough.

“I need some coffee,” the girl said and shuffled into a booth.

Wally blinked at her. “You...you really want to stay here?”

“You know,” she began, “if you had a metabolism like mine and had been running for hours at speeds that would put a supersonic jet to shame, I'm sure you'd need a caffeine kick as well.”

It wasn't a point he could argue with. She’d saved his life, that was worth a little embarrassment, surely. Fighting his protests, Wally took a seat, waved to the curious patrons and fixed his eyes on the overhead menu.

“Order what you like,” she told him with a smile. “You can cover me next time.”

“Uh, thanks.”

He stared at her across the table, pulling the jacket as tight as he could so that he might at least cover the most vulnerable parts of himself. That she was being so generous was strange, even if she was his supposed daughter, or maybe it was just his paranoia. Thinking about his dad and blowback from foes, it was difficult to trust strangers, even if they were family.

Wally leaned forward and frowned. “So, are you going to tell me what's going on, or what?”

The still nameless girl shuffled. She had the answers, which was obvious, her poker face needed work, but getting her to show her cards was harder. Taking a deep breath she leaned into the table, looked around at the eager crowd and decided to talk anyway. “It's a little hard to explain,” she began. “It involves...time travel, and all that kind of stuff.”

“I figured time travel factored into it, what with you being my 'daughter' and all,” he chided, “but what I want to know is, what are you doing here? And how did you get the powers of the Flash?” Wally was less than patient - some of it may have done with his state of undress.

The girl clicked her tongue then bit her lip. Words did not come easy to her. “The guy in yellow is named Professor Zoom,” she told him. “He's an evil Flash from the future, and you don't know it, but he's the way he is because of...you.”

“Something I haven't done yet?”

“No,” she said, flinching. “Something you already did in another timeline which he sort of undid. You see, I know this is going to sound crazy, but...you're supposed to be the Flash of this time, not Barry.”

She was right, it did sound crazy. So crazy in fact that Wally couldn't hold back a snicker. To think, him, the Flash, the fastest man alive – it was ridiculous! “No, you're wrong,” he told her, whispering so that he could only be heard by her. “My dad is the Flash. I'm just some guy. Can you imagine what kind of cheesy, second grade Flash I'd make?”

“My dad is the Flash too,” she protested. “History was, before Professor Zoom screwed it all up, that you became Kid Flash when you were struck by a bolt of lightning, then you took over Barry Allen's legacy. It might sound weird to you, but you became every bit the Flash he was, and have to be again if we're going to keep history from unraveling.”

“History...unraveling?”

The girl steeled herself. “You're a scientist, you should get this stuff. You know there's this hypertime thing, right? Infinite parallel realities, blah blah blah?”

“Yeah, it's kind of looking to be the crux of my life's work.”

“Well, each one of those realities has its own history,” she went on to explain. “If you can travel back and forth on that line, you can potentially re-write history, and reboot the entire universe to fit itself around these changes.”

“These are not alien concepts to me.”

“Then I probably don't need to explain to you that this timeline, that this part of history, has been worn thin by reboot after reboot. You know that this isn't the original universe, right?” She pulled her glasses away so that she could pierce him with her meaning. “Dad, if you don't step up and help me put things the way they were, time is going to break.”

She was as serious as the heart attack that had just been served up to him – bacon, eggs, sausage, pancakes 'on the house' the waitress told them as she smiled and turned away. Wally only wished that he could be as easy about their presence. Essentially he'd just been told that the whole world revolved around him.

“Okay,” he conceded, staring into the fried yolk that was eying him. “What do you need me to do?”

“Come back in time with me. Put things right.”

“Go back in time,” he coughed, as though it were some everyday thing. Then again, she was a Flash. Throwing his hands in the air he laughed and gave in. “Okay, okay. I'm with you, uh...what's your name again?”

His daughter squirmed, embarrassed that she hadn't even told him that. “Kid Flash,” she blushed, “or, uh...Iris, if you're okay with that.”

“Iris,” he echoed. After his mom?

“Or Kid Flash,” she blurted. “Either is good!”

Wally shook his head and let his shoulders collapse. The more he heard the more obvious it seemed. “No...Iris, I like that,” he told her, though he wasn't sure if it was the truth. “It's...it's really great to meet you, Iris.”

“Great to meet you too...Dad.”

Their meeting was concluded with a handshake, probably the most awkward in all of history. They were family, shouldn't there have been more? Though neither were willing to cross that line, at least not yet. There was a lot to talk about.

Soon the waitress came back with coffee. Kid Flash asked for a dozen mugs and though it was a strange order the fifty dollar tip she promised was more than enough to keep the black liquid flowing.

Oddly enough, but Wally felt himself growing more paternal the more she drank. “That much can't be good for you.”

Iris shrugged. “It keeps me going.”

“Still, you should be balancing it out, with food perhaps. You like bacon? Bacon is good. Everybody loves bacon.”

“I'll get a muffin to go,” she said, though probably needed sixteen of them.

---

Seconds felt like minutes felt like hours. Clinging to the arms of a speedster Wally felt time slipping away from him. It could have been a quantum side effect of their supernatural velocity, or it might have just been anxiety but each moment was like an eternity around which doom waited with a slip of his fingers. How the Flashes could take it he would never understand. Sometimes he wished for their powers, but most times not.

“We're here,” Iris told him.

When he next opened his eyes they were back in front of his home, or at least what remained of it. The encounter from the night before had made locking the front door completely redundant – hell, he was surprised someone hadn't swiped the TV, sitting there up for grabs for the whole town to get their hands on. Maybe he shouldn't have been surprised that his neighbors were better people than that.

He climbed out of the girl's arms and told her, “thanks.” It was distracted, though heartfelt; Wally's mind was already up the hall and into the worn jeans he'd left waiting on the floor. Near naked wasn't his favorite state, and though he was getting used to it he was still more than eager to cover up.

Wally slipped on a t-shirt and breathed a sigh of relief. “Finally,” he groaned, then collapsed back onto the unmade bed. Whatever sleep he'd left behind was catching up to him again, beckoning him to close his eyes. Oh, how he wanted to give in, but he couldn't. This place probably wasn't safe and he still had to find Linda.

“D...” He could hear the girl hesitate from outside. “...Dad?” She was afraid to say it, probably because she knew how unnatural it was for him to hear it. Not that Wally was ever going to hold that against her; she had years more experience and the longer she was around the more chance he had to catch up.

“Yeah, I'll be out in a minute,” he called back. Just a few more moments of rest, that was all he needed. Just a few moments...when suddenly–

FWOOMP!

Something had struck the house, though not the same something that had torn it open the night before. No, this was something more benign but serious all the same. He knew exactly what it was when a young man in a costume pushed him back onto the bed before zipping back out.

“Stay down,” Don told him and in a scarlet streak disappeared into the speed force. Damn it, the twins had gotten this all wrong!

“Dad!” he heard Iris call, as though he could do anything to help her. He was just a guy, a powerless John Q. Citizen whose job it was to cheer from the sidelines. It was a station he'd long thought he'd accepted, but now there was his daughter, running a race that was out of his league, calling for him.

Wally sprinted back for the street, not even daring to blink. To blink would mean he might miss them, Iris and his siblings, Don and Dawn, charging between the ticks of seconds in a world beyond his scope. He had to get their attention.

“Hey!” he bellowed. “Hey, Wonder Twins! Cut it out! She's one of the good guys!”

Nothing. It figured. At the speeds they were going his voice would have been distorted beyond all recognition.

He ran his hands through his curls, at a loss about what to do. There had to be...

His line of thinking was cut short when he was plucked from the spot. It took him a second before he was frustrated at Iris for not giving him any warning and another two before he realized that it was not Iris that had taken him – not Iris at all.

In the blink of an eye he was flat against the dirt, grinding through lawn after skipping like a stone. The sudden appearance of a wall brought Wally to a halt, filling his head with stars the moment he hit. He fumbled, trying to make sense of the world through the pain; he’d never been through this kind of punishment before. What was going on?

When finally his eyes cleared and he could make out shapes he took in the stone markers planted on the ground. Were those...gravestones?

It took him a moment to recognize the cemetery. In seconds he’d traveled across the nation to a place he hadn’t been since he was a boy. Both of his parents were buried there – that is to say his real parents, the ones who birthed him. As the fog lifted he even came to see their names – Rudolph and Mary West, side by side in the same plot. Was his appearing there some sort of omen?

“They never loved you anyway,” a voice rasped. “Your mother was a ball-breaker and your father was a con man. Maybe they did put you down the path to being a hero, but trust me, son…you’re better off this way.”

Wally scrambled to his feet, driven back by the insane eyes of the supervillain planted before him. It didn’t matter that he’d cracked a rib or that his body was burning in agony, he’d still run like the wind to get away from this man, this ‘Professor Zoom’, as though he were the Grim Reaper.

“You can’t run from me,” he taunted. The way he zipped into Wally’s path instantaneously was proof of that.

Every instinct had the young man wanting to flee, even if his rational head told him he couldn’t. What else was he supposed to do, lay back and die?

Then the realization came to him. “You...you changed history,” he gasped. “You were the one...the fire...”

Professor Zoom grinned. “Ah, it’s all coming together now, is it? The fire that killed your parents wasn’t an accident. Yes, it was me, but believe me when I tell you I was doing you a favor.”

“You killed my family!”

“What are you going to do? Become the night and avenge them?” he scoffed. “No, Wally. You don’t understand the blessing I’ve given you. Had I let them live you would have spent your whole life pining to be with your aunt and her boyfriend in Central City. Do you have any idea how lonely you were? Your aunt was your best friend! I can’t think of anything more pathetic.”

Wally trembled. “You...killed...my...”

“No, I gave you the family you wanted,” Zoom explained. “Iris was a great mom, wasn’t she? Such a wholesome life you had, like you were the Beaver. Well, Wally, that’s my final gift to you – one last kindness before I get my revenge.”

“R-revenge!?” he stammered, before tripping over the path. The pain was excruciating, making his head spin – he didn’t know if he could stay awake much longer.

The Professor paused, shook his head and laughed. “There’s no way you could remember,” he told him, “but you stole something from me. Once upon a time that no longer exists, you stole my chance to be the Flash. Now I’ve returned the fav...”

FWOOOOOOSSHHH!

A streak of crimson flew by, taking the foe off his feet! Wally didn’t need to be told, he knew exactly who it was and what the next instruction would be. “Run, Wally!” Barry roared, before losing himself in the dual tornado of high speed combat.

Wally struggled back upright, taking more time than he could afford. Running? Even on his best day he couldn’t get past Zoom, and at that moment he wasn’t one hundred percent. Regardless, he had to try... had to press on...for his own sake, say nothing of the family that were worried sick about him.

He didn’t look back. The battle behind him didn’t exist. There was only what was ahead of him and he had to reach it before the ground beneath collapsed. Wally Allen fumbled with all the quickness he could muster, terrified of the certain death that lingered at his heels.

---

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Next: In The Flash #4: Professor Zoom is back for revenge, but Wally doesn’t even remember what he did! What’s a speedster without speed supposed to do?

To Be Continued...

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