Disclosure
By Snare-chan
Pairings: None intended, but could be seen as Kid Flash/Robin
Ratings: T
Category(ies): Angst/Friendship
Warning(s): Character death
Status: One-shot, complete
Summary: Wally is in need of perspective and comfort, and receives help from beyond the grave. Sort of.
Notes: I tend to shy away from writing stories like this, but someone on the YJ anon meme prompted: Robin dies in Wally's arms one day, and Wally just couldn't forgive himself. During the time Wally spent loathing himself, Megan perfects her ability to morph into a guy. So Wally asks her to pretend to be Robin, so he can apologize one last time. I couldn't forget such an interesting concept and this was born. Beta read by Keppiehed!
Disclaimer: I don't own Young Justice; wish I did like everybody else. They should put YJ in stock, then I'd buy it all!
For a long time, Wally stared at the person sitting in front of him. Robin's mask-covered face stared back, waiting for him to make the first move. Wally tapped a random beat on his bent knees with his fingers, trying to redirect his pent-up energy while he assembled his courage.
With a shaky breath, he asked at last, "So, um, where should I start?"
"That's up to you," Robin said, offering him a half-smile.
Wally shivered, licking his bottom lip. He was unsettled by Robin's expression and squirmed in place, re-gathering his nerve.
"I'm sorry," he blurted, rushing to the focus of the matter. Nothing else was mentioned, and they continued to eye one another. Crestfallen, Wally rigidly hurried to his feet and prepared to speed off.
"Wait, Wally-"
"No, this is useless!" he shouted, stopping in his tracks, but refusing to turn and look at his friend. "It's a bad idea that's never going to succeed, and I'm only feeling worse!"
"Is it…am I doing something wrong?"
"Everything about this is wrong," Wally said snappishly, faltering when he caught himself in the act of whirling around.
A hand – petite but bony and strong, even through the dark gauntlet – touched his bare palm. His fingers flinched, but didn't break off from the heat.
"Why?"
"Because…because you…he's dead," Wally said, choking on the word as if a sickness coated his throat. "Mentally, I realize that and…I can't just turn logic off."
He remembered the body as ice cold in his arms, limbs accustomed to tossing explosive blades and accomplishing graceful feats like tumbles and flips gone rigid.
There was no way Wally could let that memory go.
"Yes. You can."
"Don't do that!" Wally demanded, and this time he did pull away, clutching the right side of his head in the hand still tingling with the feel of warm gloves. "Stop this!"
When he turned to finally look at Robin again, the other boy's skin was too pale and a worried expression was in place. Wally, abashed, let his eyes drift downward to the ground, his shoulders slumping. It was wrong of him to lash out since the real people responsible were already apprehended and punished and it wasn't enough – never enough – but that was no reason to direct his rage and anguish on a party not at fault.
"I'm sorry," he said, again, though sincere and for an entirely different reason.
"Why?" Robin asked, posing the question a second time.
Wally ground his teeth.
"What could be clearer? I know you think this will help, but I'm-" he cut himself off, trying to find the words. There were none.
"Go on."
"Angry," Wally settled on, though it wasn't very accurate. "I'm so mad sometimes I can't see straight, and I want to run into walls or right off a cliff because that has to be less painful than I'm feeling now."
"And?" Robin asked, tone a mixture of grim and eager.
And what? he wanted to demand, vocal chords constricting to yell just that, but Wally hesitated to give the question deeper consideration. Seriously…what else was there? Heartache, and depression, and loss, and…
"Guilty," Wally settled on.
It pained him a great deal to admit, where moments prior his voice had readied to scream. He sensed the inquiry on Robin's lips and continued without prompting, each word a trial and a race to the finish.
"Due to… That is…" he struggled to say, bottom lip trembling without his realizing, and surmised, "Survivor's guilt, probably."
The clinical term was a crutch he used to hobble around the issue of his sentiments, rationalizing because his feelings were too intense. If he delved deep into them he lost himself, swept up in a maelstrom that consisted of sinister, crystal clear memories and lingering hopelessness. Wally covered his eyes with the heels of both hands, as if the gesture could reign in his emotions and avert their presence altogether. That didn't prevent his re-witnessing of the incident; his mind – analytical, precise and photographic – replayed the events that had unfolded.
He remembered the late hour; his goggles were set to night vision when he made the discovery. There was infrared heat spilt over the floor and across his body, and he didn't want to recall anymore, but Wally did. There was much more that he'd retained – clinging bodies and final last words. He'd never felt like more of a failure or less of a human being than when watching his teammate and best friend die in his arms.
"…And?" Robin asked, scarcely above a whisper.
Wally couldn't take it anymore, and his hands shook against his eyelids as he said, "Sorry. And…and I'm really, truly, deeply sorry."
His legs gave way after the confession. His body stooped as he kept his face hidden in his hands and he was hugged by material designed to be flexible and protective. Wally fumbled, torn between leaning in to accept the embrace and rejecting it; he settled on gripping Robin's uniform. His fingers brushed misplaced curves that trembled under his touch and disappeared. It would have startled Wally if he hadn't been so caught up in his apology that didn't want to finish.
"I'm sorry for everything! Sorry I was too late, sorry I didn't listen, sorry I wasn't good enough…"
"There, there, shh," Robin said.
He was half-crouching and half-leaning on him, his cape settled over Wally's back and their heads. It reminded him of a time when they shared a rooftop in Central City. It was pouring rain then, and they lacked a bat-umbrella or bat-water repellent spray, like he figured Batman or Robin would carry. Instead, what he discovered was that Robin's cape wasn't just for aesthetics; the material shielded them both from the wind and the rain as he shared the cover with Wally. Their close proximity kept them from freezing.
"I'm so sorry and I miss you," Wally murmured, his next words lost amongst dry sobs. "I miss our time spent together, how you'd butcher the English language, when you'd finish my sentences, tell me I was being reckless, and were the one always sitting there next to me when we got into trouble!"
Wally went on for a long time, recounting everything he wished to do again, but would never have the chance. Not for the first time, Wally allowed himself to cry for what he'd lost.
"I'm s-sorry…"
"Don't apologize anymore. There's no reason to be sorry…KF." The nickname came out as an afterthought.
"How would you know?" Wally asked, retreating from his reverie and shoving Robin away, or he tried to. They got as far as bent elbows, with Robin touching their foreheads together.
"Because I do know," he said, with so much conviction that it gave Wally pause. He stared, no discernible clue given past the other boy's mask. But the answer just clicked and Wally's mouth dropped as comprehension dawned.
"When could you have…? What were you told, exactly?"
"The connection was one-sided," Robin confessed, inclining his head to the side. "The focus was entirely on you and the emotions were so thick and tangled and powerful. There was no sadness or pain, only the solitude brought on by acceptance of one's fate and happiness."
"Happiness?" he asked in disbelief. Wally couldn't comprehend anyone joyfully dying after experiencing such a cruel end.
"Why is it so hard to believe? It was…considered time," and Robin faltered, as if conflicted and suffering from his own doubts, but he relayed the message regardless. "And not perishing alone…Your presence there meant the world, Wally; you were hero enough by just existing."
Robin's voice was different, a little more effeminate, and his form was becoming hazy around the edges before blurring into greens and whites and blues. M'gann – long-haired, freckled and nothing like Robin – was in his place. She'd practiced days and nights to achieve that look, but her emotions and mental exhaustion made it impossible to maintain. She grew an extra two pair of arms to hug Wally with in compensation.
"I can't…I'm-"
"Wonderful," Wally interrupted, gasping in shaky breaths of air. "And amazing and talented, and Robin is probably laughing at me wherever he is because someone as great and kind as you had to remind me of what's important."
"Okay," she said softly, hugging him tighter, and Wally could sense her unspoken question of whether or not he was going to be all right.
He wasn't, but he would be, given the opportunity to heal. Later, if M'gann had to sneak in some dark gloved handholding or black cape hugging, then that was only a part of the recovery process.
-Fin-