A/N: Thank you for reading my work, Investments! Please know this first chapter is short, but I do hope you keep reading. :)
"You have to get out of this room."
"No."
The pointy-eared figure standing in the shadows of Wally West's moonlit apartment leveled his gaze on the red-head, scowling beneath his cowl. "You've got responsibilities," he growled.
"I don't give a damn about responsibilities," grunted the younger man, finally breaking beyond monosyllables. Seated and staring at the floor, he kicked angrily at nothing before reclining onto the unopened futon and glaring furiously at the ceiling. His wrinkled shirt open over a white-t looked grubby; his grimy hair stood at odd disheveled angles, and he smelt of sweat.
Batman watched as Wally scowled up at the drop ceiling, watched for what seemed like hours as the corners of his crinkled eyes slowly started leaking, as he turned away and allowed his silent tears to soak the cheap padding…wrapped his arms around himself so much like Linda would have and shook silently...
And then Bruce decided that Batman wasn't needed anymore. Slipping off his cowl, he moved to Wally's side and, still in shadow, placed a hand on man's exposed, quaking shoulder. Met without protest, he stood by him a long while…sat with him, because Bruce understood things even the Batman couldn't.
The next day, Wally left the house, took a short walk to the corner grocery, and bought some chocolate milk.