I'm not really sure where the inspiration for this came from but I have some different ideas on where I'll take it. I can tell you that this won't be one of those stories that is endless UST and angst only for Wally and Dick to jump into bed in the last chapter, confess their undying love, and then bam, it's over. Nor will it have the usual Young Justice tropes, like overprotective-daddy!batman. While Bruce Wayne is Dick's father in this, and does adopt him, I will be working fleshing out each character and giving them all as much character development as I can.

That means that Bruce will have periods of being overprotective, but will grow from there. It also means that the story will not end just because Wally and Dick get together. Rather than write multiple spinoffs and/or sequels, I'm going to try to tackle relationship issues as well in this fic, so I see it extending for a good number of chapters. While I love plot driven stories, I'm going to work to make sure this is plot driven, meaning no gratuitous angst.

Finally, I do need to warn for child abuse. I'm not sure yet how graphic it will be, but there will be at least a small amount of violence in this story. I will warn appropriately in the chapter when it comes up. It will not be sexual abuse because that is triggering and not something that would add anything to the story. It's also something I'm extremely uncomfortable with and not something that should be taken lightly.

As for canon, I will incorporate things from multiple universes but overall this is going to be AU.

Disclaimer: I own nothing herein.

Part 01

The rain fell in an endless sheet that challenged Wally West and his uncle Barry as they trudged their way up the mountain. Even though Wally was young, only 9 still, he still recognized that the words his uncle was muttering beneath his breath, heard only because of the shrewd acuity of Wally's child's senses, were certainly not appropriate words for an adult like Uncle Barry to be muttering. The sad part though, which Wally didn't recognize and Uncle Barry didn't know to notice, was that Wally did recognize those words—though he struggled to ignore why.

To Wally, it seemed like nighttime in Gotham City was darker than any play else he'd ever been. Granted he'd only ever spent time in Central and Star City—if you didn't count the pit stop they'd made once in Metropolis and which he couldn't remember—but Gotham certainly lived up to the reputation he'd heard, and what little of it he understood. But despite how ominous it loomed, the tall, decrepit buildings and tragedy-struck streets, Wally trusted his Uncle Barry above anyone and everyone else in the world, and he trusted that Uncle Barry wouldn't let anything happen to him.

"Leave it to Bruce to live up on a cliff in the middle of nowhere a zillion miles outside the city," he heard his Uncle mumble. His voice sounded harsh against the blowing wind, as though unsure whether to battle against it or be carried among it. Wally didn't really understand the words and so ignored them, caring only that his uncle's hand tightened around his, fingers gripping harshly.

It was cold and windy, the rain never easing up on them during the entire 10 minutes it took to walk from his uncle's car to the manor entrance. For reasons Wally, again, didn't understand, his uncle hadn't tried to park in the manor's garage, instead had stopped outside the gate and they had passed through onto the estate after a brief a conversation between his uncle and a metal box on the brick wall erected beside the white metal gate.

"Uncle Barry?" Wally half shouted, his small squeak of a voice battling sharply against the rain.

"You okay Kiddo?" his uncle asked him in concern, glancing down at him. Wally nodded, unsure whether his uncle had seen since he kept his head firmly to the ground to avoid the pelting rain water.

"Why are we seeing Mr. B-Bruce tonight?" he asked, voice stuttering as he shivered. Suddenly he was forced to stop as his uncle halted and tugged on his arm. With no complaint from Wally, the young boy was suddenly hoisted up into his uncle's arms. Barry carried him the rest of the way to the manor's entrance, tucking Wally's small red head into the crook of his neck.

"Just some business I have to take care of with Mr. Wayne, Walls. You gotta be on your best behavior tonight, alright? I'm not sure how long I'm gonna take." Wally nodded again, yawning tiredly. He snuggled closer to his uncle, appreciating the warmth his skin radiated.

"Are we spending the night?" he asked. He realized his uncle had stopped moving and they were now standing at the entrance, finally shielded from the rain.

"I dunno kid," his uncle answered, knocking sharply on the door.

"Is Mr. Bruce nice?"

His uncle chuckled, chest rumbling pleasantly against Wally's small body. "Depends who you ask I guess. And call him Mr. Wayne when you see him. I dunno how he'll take to being called 'Mr. Bruce.' He does have an adopted son around your age though, so you'll have someone to spend time with if we end up staying longer than expecting."

Wally noticed his Uncle's voice trailed off towards the end. It wasn't necessarily quieter but…more serious. It was rare for his uncle to be serious around him. For that reason alone Wally wanted to stay out of his Uncle's way, because he realized something serious must be going on. His uncle and he were supposed to be on their way back to Central after a weekend trip to Gotham but for some reason his uncle had veered off the road at the last minute and driven them here, Wayne Manor, explaining only that something had come up and he needed to see Bruce Wayne.

Wally may have been young but even he knew the infamous Bruce Wayne. What he didn't know was how his uncle knew the man, or what his uncle could possibly have anything to do with him. Had Wally not been so tired at this late hour, he may have been more excited to get to meet the man who never went a week without making the news somehow.

"What's his name?" Wally asked, referring the adopted son his uncle mentioned. Before Barry could answer however, the massive manor doors opened with a resonating thud.

"Mr. Allen."

Wally turned his head to stare at the man in the doorway. He was an aged man with graying wisps of hair and a trimmed moustache that added a quiet sense of regality to him. Wally didn't recognize the man but from his clothes alone figured he must work in the manor.

"Hey Alfred, sorry to drop in so late."

"I understand it must be an important matter to bring you so far out to Wayne Manor Mr. Allen. Please, come in." Barry stepped inside, waiting for Alfred to shut the door before fallowing him farther into the house. "Master Wayne is in his study. I see you've brought your…?"

"Oh, uh this is my nephew, Wally. He won't make any trouble, promise Alfred."

Wally swore he heard a note of amusement in Alfred's voice when the mas replied, "No, I daresay not. Not like his uncle." Before either Wally or Barry could answer, Alfred continued, "Master Richard has already gone to bed I'm afraid. Perhaps I could take Wally to the kitchen for some snacks while you meet with Master Wayne?"

Despite his sleepiness, Wally couldn't help but perk up at the mention of food. His uncle chuckled, letting Wally slowly slide down his front and setting his feet back on the ground. "Sounds good. I'll just go find Bruce myself."

"As you wish."

With a last word to tell Wally to be good, his uncle disappeared down a hallway and out of Wally's sight. Wally didn't mind the hasty departure though, not when Alfred smiled genially down at him and offered him his hand. They made small talk as Alfred led him down the opposite hall to what Wally assumed would be the kitchen. His stomach growled eagerly at the idea of food.

Life was not good to Wally over the next two years. Four months after Wally's first trip to Wayne Manor, he was back again. Only this time, there was no excitement, no nervousness. There was nothing, in fact, except for the gaping hole in Wally's heart, caused by the death of his Aunt Iris.

Wally didn't question where his uncle was driving them only hours after the funeral. Admittedly, he was in shock. Pain and grief coursed through him and dulled his sense of the world. Nothing mattered really. His uncle was able to bundle him up, the biting October wind nipping at his skin exposed from his suit, and sit him quietly into the car. Wally had no idea where they were going, not until his uncle said softly that he was taking them to Wayne Manor, because there was something he needed to do.

Wally didn't speak for the entire two hour drive. He leant his head against the window and closed his eyes, pretending to sleep, but only because he didn't want to speak. In any case, he didn't think he could handle hearing his uncle's raspy voice, frayed like threadbare carpet from the crying Wally had heard his uncle succumb to every night since his aunt's car crash.

Eventually though, Wally opened his eyes and was met with the sight of familiar white metal gates, an imposing, picturesque estate guarded safely behind them. Wally sighed and rubbed his eyes, thankful at least that this time it wasn't raining. He waited for his uncle to get out of the car, but aside from switching the engine off, he didn't make any other move.

They sat there in strained silence for several long moments before his uncle finally spoke.

"You okay kid?" His voice was gruff, but clear. Wally could only shrug uncertainly, unsure of what to say and knowing it was a lie to say he was okay.

He swallowed thickly before asking, in a small voice, "Do you think he was busy, Uncle Barry?"

"Who, bud?"

Wally's hands clenched the fabric of his black trousers, eyes squeezing shut to force back the tears that suddenly threatened as he thought of his idol. "Flash. Do you think he was b-busy? And that's why he c-couldn't save Aunt Iris in t-time?" his voice stuttered, mouth pushing the words out.

Beside him his uncle inhaled sharply before wrapping an arm around his shoulders into a halfway side hug. "I'm sorry Wally," he heard his uncle whisper. Even though Wally wouldn't understand why until a few months later, at that moment he could only nod.

"Come on," his uncle finally said, pulling away. They both exited the car and made the trip to the gate, eventually crossing the familiar walkway up to the entrance of the manor. Wally didn't know how, but Alfred was already there at the entrance waiting for them.

"Mr. Allen," he started.

"I know Alfred." That was all that was said between them before Wally and his uncle were easily ushered into the house.

It wasn't as late this time as it had been the first time Wally had come to the manor. And this time, Bruce Wayne wasn't waiting in his study, but in the front hall. Behind him was a small boy, looking younger than Wally, that scrambled down the large circular staircase behind the billionaire, finally coming to halt beside him.

Wally's uncle held his hand firmly as they walked closer to Mr. Wayne. This was the first time Wally had ever met the man in person and to say he was different from how he appeared on television did the man a great injustice. Bruce Wayne was completely different from how he appeared on TV. So different that Wally almost didn't recognize him.

For one thing, gone was the endlessly smug, crooked smirk of his that he always seemed to have his mouth twisted in when giving interviews or meeting the press. His hair wasn't combed and slicked back, instead it was tousled and free. His eyes, always so sharp and seemingly unkind, held a softened look of sympathy in them. And he'd ditched his formal, sharp suit for a casual look of jeans and a grey V-neck shirt.

When Wally and his uncle stopped a few feet away from him, Mr. Wayne stepped forward and took Barry's free hand into a firm grip. "I'm sorry Barry," he said, voice gruff.

"Thanks Bruce," Wally's uncle muttered, clearly feeling out of sorts at the sentiment. "There's a lot we need to talk about," he said.

"I know." Suddenly Mr. Wayne looked down, shrewd gaze catching Wally's eyes. "I'm sorry for your loss Wally," he said. His face was impassive but despite that, Wally could tell the man was sorry. He swallowed thickly but could only nod. "This is my—son, Dick. He'll keep you company as I talk with your uncle."

Wally didn't miss the way he hesitated over the word son, but didn't know what to think of Mr. Wayne's hesitation, and so pushed the thought away. He watched as the other boy, Dick, stepped toward him, a sad smile on his face.

"Hello," he said softly, holding out his hand. Because he held out his right hand, Wally was forced to let go of his uncle's hand to shake Dick's. He mumbled a hello in return before looking down, suddenly feeling self conscious.

"No trouble boys," Mr. Wayne told them, before leading Wally's uncle away.

It was awkward for only a moment after that, as Wally struggled for something to say. Luckily he was saved when Alfred, whom he'd forgotten, suddenly suggested, "Perhaps, Master Richard, you'd like to take Wally to your room and show him the new game system Master Wayne gave you?"

"Good idea Alfred—Is that okay with you Wally?" Wally looked up from the ground finally to meet soft blue eyes staring at him questioningly. Even though all he wanted to do was lie down and bury his head in a pillow and never have to see the ugly world again, Wally found himself nodding, unable to say no to the boy.

"Great!" Before Wally knew what was happening, Dick grabbed his hand and pulled him up the stairs.

Dick was nothing like how Wally would have pictured the son of Bruce Wayne to be. Even though he reminded himself that Dick wasn't really Bruce's son, since he was adopted. But they were still very different, at least from what Wally could tell from initial impressions. For one thing, Dick seemed to talk a lot compared to his dad.

"My dad told me what happened Wally and I'm sorry. Are you okay?" the younger boy asked as he pulled Wally up the last step.

"I'm fine," Wally muttered. If Dick took any offense to Wally's gruffness, he said nothing. Instead, he looked back with that same soft smile on his face. He slowed down so that he and Wally were walked next to each other instead of Dick pulling Wally from in front.

"My real parents died too. Mr. Bruce took me in last year."

"My uncle told me not to call him Mr. Bruce," Wally noted. Dick led him to a closed door, which he quickly opened and led them through. It was clearly Dick's room, filled with toys and stuffed animals and painted a vibrant blue with matching, expensive furniture decorating the room. Dick led him to the bed, where they both sat on the edge of.

"Oh yeah, he doesn't really like that. I call him dad anyways, but you can't call him that," Dick giggled. "Hey Wally? Can I ask you something?" Wally shrugged, staring at his feet. The bed was tall enough that Dick's feet tangled over the edge and even Wally's feet barely touched the floor. "You live with your uncle right?" Wally nodded. "How come you don't live with your parents?"

Wally swore his heart skipped a beat as Dick's innocent question triggered a slew of painful memories. He shut his eyes tightly, as though that could stop the horrible memories from playing through his mind. "I don't wanna talk about it," he ground out. Between them, where Dick's hand still held Wally's, the older boy's fingers twitched from phantom pain as a memory of a door slamming on his hand one night came unbidden to his mind.

"Oh, okay. Sorry." It was silent, as though Dick realized he'd asked too personal of a question and wasn't sure what to say next. Finally Wally, unable to stand the silence anymore, asked, "How old are you Dick?"

"I'm 6 and a half!" the young boy exclaimed proudly. Wally cracked a smile at the enthusiasm. "What about you Wally?"

"Nine…and a half," he added with a grin, glancing sideways at the smaller boy. Dick was admittedly extremely adorable, even to Wally's young eyes. Big, round blue eyes above high cheekbones; a face framed by boyish soft hair that was as black as Gotham's night. His face was slightly pudgy from the child's weight he hadn't yet grown out of, and his eyes, though staring at Wally with a profound sense of understanding, still retained an innocence that Wally almost didn't recognize. Dick was a child, through and through, but his innocence was curtailed by some unspoken horror. Wally could only guess it had something to do with the death of his parents—and that was something he wasn't going to ask the young boy about.

"Let's play my game now!" Dick suddenly exclaimed, dragging Wally off the bed.

For the next hour, Wally sat patiently on the ground as Dick instructed him, in his childish way, how to set up and play the game system his dad had bought him. Wally found himself smiling along with Dick's antics, forgetting for the time being the crushing pain he'd been feeling for so long, since the death of his aunt. Something about the way Dick spoke, with such innocence and such vigor, took Wally's mind off the harsh reality of the world around him.

They sat on the floor together playing the game for almost two hours before Dick suddenly paused, prompting Wally to glance at him questioningly. He laughed in understanding however when he saw Dick hiding a large yawn behind his hand.

"Sorry Wally, I'm getting kinda sleepy," he mumbled. He placed the game controller on the ground and, before Wally could do anything, leant his head sideways, resting his head on Wally's shoulder. "You keep playing okay?" he murmured.

"It's no fun without you," Wally said, only a slight tinge of disappointment seeping into his voice.

"I'm sorry," Dick apologized again, feeling guilty. "Hey Wally?"

"Hm?" Wally switched the TV off using the remote. Before Dick could say anything, he stood up slowly, bringing Dick up as he stood. Wally was pretty sure Dick was smaller than the average six year old, because he didn't think he should be able to half carry a six year old to his bed, being only nine himself.

But half carry him he did, helping Dick crawl onto his bed and beneath the covers. Dick wouldn't let go of Wally's hand until Wally agreed to climb onto the bed as well. He quickly slipped off his suit jacket, laying it at the foot of the bed, and kicked off his shoes, before crawling in next to the smaller boy.

He didn't want to get too comfortable though, so he remained above the covers, although he did tuck Dick in securely.

"Wally?" Dick asked again, snuggling into the pillow.

"Yeah?"

"Do you wanna stay here with me now?"

"Huh?" Wally was taken aback. "Stay?" Dick mumbled something that Wally wasn't able to catch. "What'd you say?"

"Can we be friends Wally?"

Wally had no idea what to say. He was a little taken aback, admittedly, because he figured even though he and Dick had had fun today, the younger boy was…well he was the son of one of the richest men in the country—surely he had cooler friends than Wally? Wally wasn't cool or interesting or anything, not compared to Dick.

But then again, he figured Dick was too young to understand things like that. So he wrapped his arm around Dick's waist and crawled closer to the smaller boy, holding him.

"Sure Dick, we'll be awesome friends," he agreed. "But I live all the way in Central you know. I dunno when we'll ever get to meet."

"Oh," Dick said quietly. Wally could have kicked himself for making the younger boy sad. "I bet my dad would let you visit anytime Wally! And I can see you too, right?"

Wally smiled. "Yeah, you can visit me whenever. And I'll ask Uncle Barry to drive us over more, so I can see you."

"Yay!" Dick rolled over, snuggling into Wally's chest. "We can be best friends Wally. I've never had a best friend before."

Wally felt his chest tighten at the innocent, but powerful, statement. He tried to swallow down a wave of emotion that suddenly overtook him as he nodded. He wanted to say Me neither but he didn't, because he didn't think he need to.

"Dick and Wally…best friends!" he grinned against Dick's shoulder. Dick mumbled something that Wally didn't understand, but it sounded suspiciously like Forever.

TBC

Please review with your thoughts on how it is so far :)