So what was going to be a 3k one-shot became a 9k monster. Consider this my official entry into the world of Birdflash, after my previous paltry 500 word offering. Can't believe I finally finished it… This was written over a two month period during my daily commutes to and from work, which amounts to about 1.5 hours a day—the only time I have anymore to get any writing done, sadly. I've already spent way too much time on it as it is (was?)
I've also taken a bit of creative liberty with some of the comic references (plus a bit from JLU), and this generally takes place sometime between Season 1 and 2 of YJ. Let's also pretend this is an AU where Spitfire never existed…again, it's all Bird/Nightflash here. You've been warned! And I apologize in advance for the ending…I'm a horrible tease.
Standard disclaimers apply.
Mount Justice
Saturday, 14:40 EST
Dick pinched the bridge of his nose, an imminzent migraine honing in. Batman had called earlier that morning with a new mission: his sensors had detected the presence of an anomalous ripple in spacetime originating in South Gotham. The nature of the anomaly seemed concurrent with the interferences of Chronos, an enemy with whom the Justice League once had dealings with. However, the last encounter with the time thief should have rendered him unable to exist outside a closed time loop—courtesy of a program written by the Bat himself. If it was indeed Chronos behind this, the time-stream was definitely at risk of becoming corrupted, thus, the team was sent to investigate.
~ 6 hours earlier ~
Beta, remain in the bioship on standby. Be ready for anything. Nightwing instructed via the mind link, as he, Miss Martian and Kid Flash exited a zeta-tube into South Gotham.
Roger that. Batgirl echoed back.
The acrobat then nodded in the direction of a nearby building. Let's get to higher ground. He shot his grapple, extending a hand in his teammate's direction. Need a lift?
Wally accepted the offer without a second thought. So what exactly are we looking for? He mused as the two rode the line upwards, while the martian flew on ahead of them.
Anything unusual that might explain what caused the ripple Batman was talking about.
That's pretty vague, could be anything.
Which is why we're here to investigate, Kid Slow.
Hey, guys? M'gann cut in, already hovering high in the air for a bird's eye view. What's happening over there?
The boys crossed over the rooftop to the opposite side to see what commotion was going on below. Someone was ranting loudly in front of a local bank, a slight man who in fact quite resembled the picture of Chronos that Batman displayed for them back at the cave.
"I am Chronos! Ruler of all time, past, present, and future!"
Is this guy for real? Dick snorted.
Hey, at least he saved us the trouble of hunting him down.
Nightwing relayed the new intel to Beta. Target is in sight, we're moving in. He turned to M'gann. Stay in camouflage mode so we can maintain an element of surprise if necessary. Kid Flash and I will make contact.
The two hopped down to a lower rooftop to address the time traveler in question. "Okay Chronos, how about you turn yourself in, and we'll call it a day."
The man squinted up at them with a look of disgust. "You're not Batman!"
Dick shrugged. "And you're not the Joker. Now that we've got the obvious out of the way..."
"Where's Batman?!"
"His schedule's all booked at the moment. But I'll take a message for you."
So he's putting up this hissy-fit just to get an audience with Bats? Wally scoffed.
"But he's...nngh—" Chronos clawed at his head, pulled at his hair, bellowing in pain. "He's the only one who can fix—nngh... Damnit!" He fumbled wildly with the contraption sitting on his waist, likely the thing causing him such discomfort.
"Wait—!" Nightwing produced a wing-ding and threw it in a last ditch effort to avert the time thief from doing anything rash.
Then, in literally the blink of an eye, the spot where Chronos was just standing lay his tacky jumpsuit in a pile.
What...just happened? The acrobat looked to his side, Wally's absence catching him off guard. KF? Miss M! You guys all right?
I'm fine but… The martian descended next to him then directed his attention back to the front of the bank.
"I got it!" A young voice called enthusiastically.
"Ugh, this is all your fault!" Complained another voice. "I told you I needed Batman to fix this!"
Nightwing shared a look with M'gann as they watched a pair of young boys emerge from the clothing mound, lost in argument.
One of the two was a redhead.
He clicked the comm-link in his ear. "Uh, Batman? We have a problem."
~ End Flashback ~
Dick had called in a favor for the mission, knowing that having a speedster around when dealing with a potential time manipulator could prove useful. He also knew that Wally had just recently started classes at Stanford and was quite content with leaving the hero life behind. But it just so happened that Dick had a very special power of persuasion over his best friend, leaving the redhead no choice but to begrudgingly accept the task.
Unfortunately, things went a bit...sideways, and now they had an overly rambunctious five-year-old speedster on their hands, plus a whiny, young Chronos and a malfunctioning time-belt. The former time thief was placed under the watch of a couple League members, while Batman agreed to take the belt back to the Batcave to reprogram it again and reverse its effects on the two boys. Wally, on the other hand, would absolutely not leave Dick alone, and was not keen on letting him out of his sight for even a nanosecond. To put it succinctly, it seemed that the redhead had developed something of a crush on the acrobat, a fact which became relatively clear when he started declaring his affections sometime after the mission debriefing. Naturally, it threw him for quite a loop to hear his best friend's confessions, but they were simply ways to get attention, he told himself. There couldn't possibly be any real truth behind any of it…
Dick pulled his focus back to the red and yellow tornado forming around him and was met with considerable resistance when he attempted to still the insatiable blur circling him. The boy looked rather flustered being unceremoniously nabbed in the middle of his concentric marathon, but a smile quickly graced his lips as he was hoisted up and saw the chance to—
"Wally! What do you think you're doing!?" Dick exclaimed giddily.
Did he just say giddily? He meant sternly. Batman would have his head for not maintaining his cool, even with a five-year-old and sure, it was an innocent peck on the cheek and maybe it was kind of really cute because come on, he was five and wait, he already said that.
"Mom gives me kisses all the time!"
"That's her way of showing she loves you."
Wally beamed impishly. "But I love you too!"
Damn. He totally set himself up for that one.
"Yeah, I uh, I like you too, buddy." He murmured, feathers just a tad ruffled. The speedster seemed satisfied enough with this response though, if his mile-wide grin was any indication.
Dick made his way over to the kitchen, suspecting that the energy expended by his miniaturized friend would soon return with a vengeance. He noticed M'gann poring over what he presumed to be a cookbook hidden among the collection of various ingredients spread out on the counter.
"Hi Nightwing! Hi Wally!" She broke from the concentration over her current cooking endeavor to coo over the newest and youngest edition to their team. The martian made a move to pat the boy's head, but Wally shrunk from the touch and clutched tighter at Dick's chest. M'gann simply laughed.
"Don't take it personally." Nightwing explained. "He won't let anyone else babysit him, let alone go near him."
"What about his parents or The Flash?"
"He wouldn't even say hi to Barry earlier when he came to drop off some clothes."
The Flash had taken the liberty of delivering a few articles of clothing from the West's old stash of baby clothes when he was informed of the development of the Chronos mission. Suffice to say, his Kid Flash costume (and essentially his entire closet) was a tad gargantuan for one who was suddenly a fourth his previous age.
The martian smiled, almost knowingly. "I'd say he's very fond of you."
"Mm, maybe a little too much." Never enough.
At that moment the redhead decided to climb the tall tree that was Dick, settling himself atop padded shoulders.
M'gann giggled openly. "I think him and Gar would get along well."
"Yeah—ow." He removed the finger searching for purchase on his left eye. "Definitely monkeys, both of them."
Dick felt a light tugging on his hair and turned slightly to a tickling whisper.
"I'm hungry." Wally shielded his words behind a cupped hand, ostensibly so it would be out of the martian's earshot.
Said martian smiled at Nightwing and stepped aside as he walked over to the fridge and let the five-year-old survey its contents from his heightened, advantageous view.
"Ooh, I want everything!" Wally exclaimed, forgetting his earlier concern regarding secrecy in his excitement over all the culinary possibilities.
With the speedster on the team, food was easily the biggest expense from their budget. "How about we just make you a big sandwich?"
M'gann cleared a spot on the counter as Dick laid out the ingredients for a generous bologna sandwich. Wally was too preoccupied watching him stack the sandwich jenga to notice his and the martian's hushed conversation.
"Any luck on finding a way to reverse the effects?"
"Not yet. Batman agreed to take a look at the belt, but based on his initial estimates, he said he would need at least until tomorrow."
"I thought you were going to handle the reprogramming."
"Can't really work efficiently with 45 pounds of pure energy flitting around me every second."
His teammate nodded, understanding completely. "Do you think he remembers anything from before this happened?"
I'd like to think so. "It's hard to say."
Dick topped off the sandwich with another slice of bread. "Alright. Here's your sandwich, Walls." He cleared away the remaining wrappers and set the boy down on one of the bar stools. To say the speedster simply ate a lot would be the understatement of the year. It was perhaps more accurate to categorize Wallly's digestive system as a matter of quantum physics.
As if on cue, the boy performed his patented Hoover Maneuver on the 2-foot tall sandwich, but was interrupted when the computer's tinny voice sounded.
Recognized: Superboy B-0-4, Batgirl B-1-6, Wonder Girl B-2-1
The reality outside Sandwich Heaven quickly dawned on the small redhead and he stiffened at the intrusion into his mealtime paradise, swiftly climbing down the stool and shuffling into the space between where Dick was standing and the counter.
M'gann stifled another giggle, to which the acrobat restated, "Like I said, he's very shy."
"Hey guys! What'cha up to?" Cassie glanced around. "Where's Wally?"
At the sound of his name, said redhead hightailed it out of the kitchen.
"That...was him."
"Whoops, sorry. Didn't mean to spook him."
"Don't worry about it. Probably better if we lay low somewhere away from people for now. Catch you guys later."
Dick hurriedly tidied the remnants of the once sandwich then proceeded toward the direction in which the speedster bolted, through the hallway into the mission briefing area.
"Wally! Let's go to my apartment okay?" He called out, trying to negotiate the boy out of hiding. "There won't be anybody else there, just us."
The redhead hesitantly stepped out from a shadow in the corner of the open room after making sure the coast was clear, and approached the acrobat, taking his outstretched hand.
"Come on, I've gotta change before we head back." Dick led the boy to the lockers, where he de-Nightwing'ed and donned a set of plain clothes with his signature black shades. On the way back to the zeta-tubes, he took a moment to rehash an otherwise well-known fact he wasn't sure the five-year-old was aware of.
"Remember not to use your powers when you're not in costume. We have to keep our secret identities secret."
Wally gave a slight nod but then made a face when his stomach growled.
Seriously, could no amount of food satisfy this guy?
Blüdhaven
Sunday, 16:55 EST
Wally's appetite being what it was, Dick decided to stop by the corner grocery shop to stock up on…everything before heading back. It wasn't that his apartment was bereft of food, but since his best friend was notorious for eating servings that would make even sumo wrestlers cringe, well, enough said. He'd wanted to avoid any and all public areas if possible due to the boy's current extreme aversion to people, but not having sufficient rations could prove even more apocalyptic to the speedster. God forbid he go hungry for a period of time exceeding four hours.
The acrobat stepped into the small grocery store and grabbed a basket with the hand not holding Wally's tiny fingers. At least there weren't many customers in the shop, save for a woman with her two children, a young couple and a middle-aged man. He maneuvered through the aisles posthaste, filling the basket with a myriad of foodstuffs to feed the vacuum that was his best friend.
As the two turned into the snack section, Dick nearly crashed into the middle-aged man in his dash to finish their grocery errand.
"Whoa, sorry." He apologized, but the man seemed to be in deep thought and didn't respond. Shrugging, the acrobat moved into the next section and grabbed a handful of less-than-healthy items, then tugged Wally toward the front counter before the boy got too apprehensive from all the foreign faces.
"Hey Tess," He greeted the cashier with a gentle voice. "how're you doing? Holding up alright?"
"Hi Dick." She unloaded his overflowing basket and began scanning the items. "I'm okay I guess, taking it one day at a time, you know?" He nodded, empathizing with her display of bravery in the face of unimaginable loss. The grief from being in a world without his own parents haunted him every day.
A sudden tugging at his pant leg jarred him back to the present moment. It was Wally, pointing at a neat stack of Chicken Whizees set up at one of the aisle ends.
"Oh, fine. You can grab a few. Hurry on." The acrobat relented, as the redhead happily obliged and sauntered off to add to the mounting grocery bill.
"I didn't know you had a kid."
"Ha ha, very funny. He's just my uh, little cousin." He fibbed. "My aunt's in town and I'm watching him while she's out. Clearly he eats enough for an army." Dick motioned to the heap of carb-laden foods he was purchasing. "Or ten."
He turned to call "his cousin" back, but caught him in the middle of a serious case of the munchies instead. "Hey, save that for when we get ho—"
Dick froze mid-sentence, as the man from earlier sprang from the nearest aisle and seized the small redhead. He was just several steps too far and a couple seconds too late to even attempt a preemptive strike before the guy could produce a gun.
"Oh my god." He heard Tess mumble from behind him just as a round of warning shots pierced the ceiling, shattering the silence.
"Nobody move or I blow this kid's head off!"
Really? Cliché much?
"It's always the quiet ones, huh." The acrobat mumbled to himself before engaging the crazed man. "Look, no one needs to get hurt here." He made eye contact with Wally, who didn't appear too frightened—miffed perhaps, was a better word. He supposed it was due to being snatched up in the middle of an important snack session.
"You don't get to decide that!" The man hollered angrily before kicking over an empty duffel bag. "Put all the money from the register in here!"
Dick was already madly gathering data of their surroundings, sifting through it to formulate a plan that wouldn't blow his hero cover nor the fact that he was a cop. The other patrons who had the unfortunate luck of being in the wrong place at the wrong time were all crouching near the opposite end of the store, trying to stay as invisible as possible. At least with them out of the immediate radius of danger, he would have a little more room to work with.
He retrieved the bag gingerly then walked behind the counter where Tess was trembling, and mentally cursed the man for further compromising the poor girl's already fragile psychological well-being.
"It'll be okay." Whispered the acrobat, putting a reassuring hand on top of hers as she shakily opened the register. He loaded the bag with cash and eyed the various coin rolls near the back of the drawer, chucking them into the bag to give it more weight. Making his way back around the counter, he chanced another look at the redhead, who gave him a knowing wink, and threw his heartbeat into a frenzy.
Dude, don't do anything stupid... He tried communicating through a furrowed brow and stern gaze. It was by all means futile—little could stop the impulsive recklessness so characteristic of Wally.
Luckily, Dick was well-versed with the speedster's many abilities. Particularly useful was the method by which he could vibrate himself out of sticky situations. The assailant would suffer some nasty abrasions as a result but hey, the guy got off pretty easy for trying to pull something in front of a Bat-trained agent of justice—real easy as a matter of fact, considering he'd just tried to kill his best friend.
Ah, hell.
The acrobat threw the weighty, coin-filled duffel at the man's face, closed the distance between them and dealt a serious right hook to the side of his head before knocking him down with enough force to inflict possible concussive damage.
"Sorry, did that hurt?" Dick hummed, digging his knee spitefully into the guy's T10 vertebrae. "Tess, you got something to tie this guy up with?"
She nodded and ducked into the third aisle, returning with a hefty roll of baker's twine. His cuffs would have been preferable but this would suffice. He thanked her and went about tying the subdued gunman's wrists and ankles together with a generous amount of twine, then flicked out his cell.
"Amy? Hey, it's Dick. I've got a guy here in custody for attempted robbery. Would you mind coming down here to bring him in? I've got my five-year-old cousin with me and I don't want him anywhere near the precinct. Yeah? Okay great. I know, I know, I owe you big time. Thanks."
He pocketed the phone and turned to Tess. "You alright?"
"Yeah, just...a little rattled." More like a lot rattled, but what normal human wouldn't be? "Thank goodness your cousin wasn't hurt."
Dick looked down at the redhead, who was now suffocating his left leg. "Me too."
The other customers slowly crawled out of their respective hideouts, similarly discombobulated, but visibly grateful that disaster had been averted. The acrobat managed to talk them down further after flashing his BPD badge. Amy arrived on scene not long after, at which point she duly collected the witness statements of everyone present, then relieved Dick of the baddie in proper cuffs.
"I told you it'd be okay." The acrobat reiterated to the cashier, as he finished his purchase of the grocery items still waiting by the scanner. "Go home and get some rest." Tess nodded weakly in response.
Outside, he led his small companion down the street a few more blocks, keeping a firm hold on their interlocked hands while trying to keep his paranoia to a minimum. It's not like Wally was suddenly Target Numero Uno on some sort of public hit list...
Fortunately, the short walk passed without incident, and soon they were in the (relative) safety of his apartment. He relinquished his belongings by the door and breathed a long, labored sigh, before gathering the boy into his arms.
"Are you okay?" Dick mumbled into the curve of Wally's neck.
The little speedster nodded, then exclaimed, "I did a good job huh!"
The acrobat stroked the rogue cowlicks on the back of his ginger head. "Yeah...you did good."
Sure, they dodged death on a daily basis, whether battling supervillains or just some guy packing heat, but with Wally in this condition, things were different. At least, he thought so. The five-year-old on the other hand, obviously felt no sense of increased vulnerability and assumed he could still take on just about anyone as long as he could utilize his superspeed.
Quashing his anxiety, Dick headed to the kitchen, redhead in hand, to stock up his fridge with the freshly acquired groceries and start dinner.
"What are you making?" Wally asked after making himself comfortable on the counter.
"Take a guess." The acrobat placed a pot of water on the stove then pulled out a package of elbow pasta, a block of cheddar cheese, a bit of butter and some milk.
The boy studied closely as he poured the pasta into the ready pot, later combining the drained pasta with the dairy products and other ingredients.
"Mac and cheese!"
"Ding ding ding, you are correct sir!"
He popped the mac into a square pan and into the oven, then washed the used cookware and set the table for their meal. He suspected there wouldn't be leftovers—the concept likely posed no meaning to his best friend.
As expected, once dinner was ready, Wally inhaled his portion the moment it was placed in front of him before Dick could even get in three bites.
"Someone's going to need a bath after this." Remarked the acrobat, noting the bits of pasta and cheese dotting the redhead's cheeks and shirt.
The boy looked absolutely taken aback, as if he'd been informed that Earth's entire food supply had just run dry. Of course, this lasted all of two seconds before he hopped out of his seat and sped away, a mischievous glint sparkling in his eye. "You can't give me a bath if you can't catch me!"
Dick felt a sudden sort of kindred bond with Jay and Barry's parents. Was this what raising speedsters were like, always being a hundred steps behind? Luckily, it was easy to get Wally to listen to him using a certain secret weapon he knew the little guy couldn't resist—himself.
"You're not even trying to catch me!" Wally came to a screeching halt after having zipped around the apartment six times, whining as Dick rummaged through his own duffel bag for the boy's pajamas, nonplussed.
"Don't need to."
The five-year-old cocked his head, interest piqued but nevertheless skeptical.
"Well, if you take a bath, I'll share my bed with you." Dick grinned, pleased with himself. "Unless of course, you think the couch might be more comfortable."
It was no argument. Wally quickly stripped off his shirt and shorts, zipping into the bathroom before his airborne clothes even made contact with the floor. "I'm ready!"
Alright, so he was officially filing the past 12 hours under Crazy Things Which Have Occurred as a Result of a Mission Gone Awry. Honestly though, he guessed things like this shouldn't come as any sort of surprise given the kinds of situations they often found themselves in doing hero work.
Wally stepped into the tub...sans clothing, and squeezed his eyes shut from the assault of the warm flowing water.
"Okay, here's some soap." Dick squeezed a dollop into the boy's outstretched palm, and a helping of shampoo into his own hand. "You soap your body and I'll shampoo your hair."
The redhead squished his hands together and swiftly slapped the soap onto his arms, legs and torso haphazardly.
"You didn't get your back."
"There, I got it." The boy responded after quickly applying more fruity goodness to his back. "Now can I be done with my bath?"
"I don't know...you missed another spot here." The acrobat chimed, poking the spot next to his navel, eliciting a storm of giggles from the boy and winning him a face full of soap.
"Ack—okay, okay." Dick sputtered, removing the small hand rubbing bubbles all over his cheek in retaliation. "Let's finish up your shower so I can take my own."
The five-year-old gladly obliged and behaved himself through the final rinse and towel-burrito phase. Needless to say, it was a good thing he decided to bathe the boy first, though he might as well disregard his own shower, now that he'd been thoroughly doused.
After getting Wally dressed and ready for bed, he shooed him out of the bathroom, deciding after all to get in a proper wash. He figured he better make it quick too, in case the speedster decided to turn his apartment into a playground. A brisk four and a half minutes later, Dick was out of the shower, dressed in a fresh tank and pajama bottoms, and all set to catch some well deserved z's.
"Hey Wally, I—"
He entered back into his room to a passed out, curled up redhead on the corner of his bed.
"I know," Dick whispered distantly. "It's been a long day."
He switched off the lights, padded over to the sleeping form and scooped him up, tucking them both under the covers. Dick stared at the small bundle beside him, taking in his peaceful, unguarded state and sighed. His earlier unease was clawing its way back, assaulting him with the image of that middle-aged man digging his gun into the five-year-old's temple. And to think, it might've been another incident to forget had it not involved Wally (and if the whole age thing wasn't an issue).
He pressed a light kiss to the side of the boy's forehead, hoping the sensation of his lips would replace the impression of cold, lethal metal, not that Wally was even awake to register the intimate gesture. Dick drew the small redhead into his body, pushing the obstinate visions from his mind and willed sleep to come.
What the—Wally?
It was his older self.
No longer a kid. No longer innocent.
Straddling his hips.
Pelvises in perfect alignment.
Naked bodies glistening with perspiration.
Shh...It's okay.
He stroked the side of his face.
Leaned down so their chests were flush.
Wisps of his ginger hair tickled his cheek.
And a whisper drowned in lust.
I know you want me...Dick.
Definitely not innocent.
What—what was breathing again?
The words shot straight to his...
Was he nibbling at his ear?
Oh god.
Dick awoke with a start to a head of disheveled red hair and 40 pounds crushing his rib cage.
Just a dream. Jesus, that felt real.
Nipping at him here, there.
Slowly, down his jawline.
Then lower, lower.
He let his head drop back into his pillow and closed his eyes while his heart beat a furious SOS in Morse code.
Occasionally a tongue. Wet, warm.
Clothes, irrelevant.
Sounds, tantalizing. Musical.
Hands, everywhere.
No amount of pinching the bridge of his nose could divert the dangerously delicious image of being taken by his best friend.
The rhythm, dizzying.
Hypnotizing. Mind-blowing.
The end, so close. The brink, so near.
Shit. Don't do this to yourself, Grayson. Don't go there.
He reached over for his cell on the nightstand, smashing the speed dial for the Batcave.
"Bruce, hey. Please tell me you've made progress with the belt."
There was a brief pause. "Yes, hello Master Dick. Master Bruce is currently having...well, a staring contest with the device of which you're referring to."
"Great, then we're still at square one."
"Actually, quite the opposite sir. I believe he said something about discovering an anomaly which he could utilize in creating the nullifying countermeasure you require."
"Oh? Sounds promising." He paused as a certain five-year-old stirred, squinting at him happily with sleep-drenched eyes. "Think he'll be done anytime soon? Not to rush him but uh.."
"Master Wallace proving difficult to handle, Master Dick?"
"You could say that—oof."
"Are…you alright sir?"
"Fine." He shifted slightly to adjust the weight currently sitting on his liver. "Just tell Bruce to call me when it's ready."
The momentary lull was punctuated with distant conversation from the other side.
"He says it shouldn't be much longer."
"Perfect. Thanks Alfred."
"The pleasure is mine sir."
Dick threw his phone aside and propped his head up slightly, turning his attention back to the young ginger situated atop his midsection, still struggling to squash the lingering visions of that titillating fantasy.
"Do I look like a mattress to you?" But Wally wasn't paying attention, his adorably small fingers tracing lines on the parts of skin exposed by his tank top.
"I got a real bad one on my knee once when I fell off my bike. It hurt a lot." The boy mumbled into his sternum softly, timidly. "Do these hurt?"
"Does what—" Oh.
The acrobat had long come to terms with the fact that he was essentially a living trophy of the damage wrought from innumerable battles past. It had slipped his mind that this would be news to the redhead and it was already too late to backtrack out of this one—not that it was something he really needed to hide. Maybe he wasn't quite prepared for Wally to find out just yet.
In the end, he settled with a "Not anymore."
The boy turned his attention to his shoulder and bicep, running his fingers over the remnants of other injuries. "You have so many."
"Yeah...comes with the job."
Wally then proceeded to leave featherlight kisses on each of the blemishes, though he didn't make it very far. After the second one, Dick managed to reclaim his composure, clutching the boy's head with both hands, effectively stopping him.
"What are you doing?" He asked in the calmest manner he could muster.
"I always get kisses when I get hurt." His brows were knitted in concern. "It's supposed to make it better."
"Thanks but I'm—it's okay, really." The acrobat assured, willing his body to cool the heck down, deciding a change of subject might be good. Food would distract him. "Come on buddy, let's eat breakfast." Dick tucked him under his arm like a football. "I'll make you pancakes."
He gasped. "That's my favorite!" The boy wriggled free from his grip, bubbling with excitement.
"Alright, I'll make you as much as I have the ingredients for. But first we've gotta clean—" Wally zipped off and came back, teeth brushed, hair tamed. "Up… Okay, well you still have to wait for me." He deflated a bit but decided to be patient, lest his pancakes be at risk.
Once the acrobat finished tidying up and exited the bathroom, something, or rather, someone launched up at him from behind. He tried to contain his laughter as Wally latched himself to his backside, hands gripping at his shoulders, feet digging into his sides.
"Trying to catch a ride?" He quipped, walking into the living room, still donning his version of Blue's scarab.
The speedster giggled and pointed toward the kitchen. "Walk faster, I want pancakes!"
Dick slowed his pace to a crawl just to mess with him. "This fast enough for you?"
Wally groaned dramatically. "Fasterrr, not slower!"
"You could have beat me there ten minutes ago if you wanted."
"But I like it up here, you're tall! And I can watch you make the pancakes."
Goosebumps formed on the back of his neck from the breaths exhaled as the boy spoke. "Oh? So you're only gonna watch? More for me then."
"Noo," He reacted indignantly. "I have to make sure you're doing it right!"
"Maybe I oughta let you cook then." Dick chuckled as he opened the fridge for the eggs, milk and butter, then went to the cabinet to fetch the dry ingredients and mixing bowl. After preparing the mix, he grabbed a pan, coated it with oil then turned the stove on as the human backpack gazed on over his shoulder.
"It's lightning!" The boy exclaimed happily after Dick drew a quick, lazy shape into the pan.
"Oh, you're a sharp one, aren't you?" He used a spatula to flip over the sizzling bolt-shaped pancake then slid it onto a ready plate. "Alright, you draw one." He brought the boy to his front, adjusting him to the optimal position for batter deployment, helping his little fingers hold the measuring cup over the pan.
"What's that?" Dick questioned the zigzagish shape.
"It's you!" Wally declared with the utmost conviction, like he'd just been asked to answer what 1+1 was.
"Pretty sure those ears are more Batman than me, but good try anyway."
"No, it's you!" The redhead insisted, jabbing a finger into his chest, which then sparked the light bulb of understanding.
"Aha, I see it now." He said of the vaguely recognizable emblem he regularly advertised when in costume. "Clearly there's a pancake artiste in our presence."
Wally grinned wide. "I can draw a dog too!"
"Yeah? Okay, show me."
After making almost three dozen pancakes of varying shapes and sizes, the boy finally seemed satisfied with his collection of masterpieces and subsequently devoured 80% of the stack—the remaining portion was duly taken care of by the acrobat himself. Dick then began a thorough wipe-down of the counters (really, you could make another serving with the splatter alone) as he worked out a plan for the rest of the day. Luckily it was Sunday, so there wasn't any particular rush to be anywhere, and the team was well aware of their current situation and inability to thus participate in any missions. He had considered going for a run with the speedster—non-competitive, obviously—but in light of yesterday's incident, he figured it might be wise to remain indoors while Wally's condition persisted. Conclusion: he decided a round of cartoons was the safest bet for now while Batman finished the repairs. Once he'd spruced up the kitchen, Dick directed Wally over to the couch where the boy promptly settled himself into his lap.
Asdfghjkl.
Not that he wasn't enjoying little Wally, because he was really enjoying it. The older version of said redhead might only throw playful punches at him or maybe indulge in the occasional brotherly-love kind of embrace, whereas his five-year-old self was quite literally all over him, all the time. It was great. But he knew allowing these fantasies free reign was not only foolish, but dangerous. There was no guarantee that 1) Wally would remember anything that happened during this period of age reversion, or if 2) any of these exhibited feelings even held any weight. By now, it seemed very likely that the boy's sentiments toward him were real, but that would bring him to 3) even if Wally returned to his normal self and remembered everything, what if he denied it all anyway? Maybe Wally wanted nothing more than to stay just best friends.
Could he live with that?
An abrupt ringing roused them both suddenly from...a nap, apparently. He patted around for his cell, which showed that a good two hours had passed. The caller ID suggested the adjustments on Chronos's belt were finished.
"Meet you at the cave in thirty."
Mount Justice
Sunday, 11:25 EST
Recognized: Nightwing B-0-1, Kid Flash B-0-3
Batman was in the midst of analyzing a blown-up, detailed schematic of the belt on one of the holographic screens when the two materialized into the mission briefing area. Upon noticing the dark-costumed man, Wally hid behind the acrobat, trailing slowly behind him as they approached the center of the room.
Dick threw a knowing look at his mentor when he was handed the device.
"You plan on leaving Chronos stuck like that?"
There was just the slightest twitch at the edge of Bruce's lip, which may or may not have been a smirk. "I'm looking into a way to reverse the effects without actually allowing the belt to come into his possession."
"So he's on what, a time out until then?"
"You could say that."
He always found this devious side of Batman rather entertaining. "I won't ask."
"Good." Then he added, "You might want to have him change out of his clothes beforehand."
"Right." Shrinking into a heap of your former outfit was one thing, growing into clothes too small was something else entirely. He can't imagine strangulation by one's own collar would be very fun. "Come on Wally, this way."
Dick led the way toward the cave's medical bay to retrieve a hospital gown for the boy. He flicked on the lights and rummaged the cabinets, finding a stash of them stacked neatly next to a box of masks and gloves.
"Could you change out of your clothes and into this for me?"
Wally wrinkled his nose at the oversized frock. "That's huge!"
"Well, I don't think you'll find the clothes you're wearing now to be very comfortable after you double in height."
The redhead reluctantly obeyed and shrugged off his civvies, swapping it for his new duds. Gravity was basically threatening to strip the billowing hospital gown off the boy's body. Dick suppressed a snicker while Wally fidgeted, feebly attempting to keep the thin fabric from slipping off his petite shoulders.
"I told you it was too big!"
"I know, I know. But it won't be in a minute." He reassured, strapping the time-belt onto the little guy's waist.
The five-year-old held it in place, frowning at the device for a good minute before his features morphed into a look of apprehension.
"Is it gonna hurt?" He asked softly.
"Did it hurt the first time?"
"I dunno, I don't really remember."
"You'll be okay. I'll be right here if anything happens." He gave the boy a gentle pat on the head. "Press that button in the middle when you're ready."
Wally breathed a deep sigh and nodded.
"Go for it, buddy."
The transformation was near instantaneous, much like what he'd witnessed the first time during the mission. A blink—bam, his best friend was young enough to attend kindergarten. Another two blinks and now he was of legal drinking age again.
"Good to have you back, KF." Dick remarked, not skipping a beat.
"Ungh.." Back-to-normal Wally grasped his head in discomfort. "Back from where exactly?" It took an extra second for him to notice his state of undress, but it was probably fair given that time manipulation often had a pretty heavy disorienting effect. "Holy―Why am I naked?!"
The acrobat didn't hide his amusement as he tossed over a clean set of clothes and sneakers. "Here. Get dressed, Wal-man."
He had missed this, this kind of conversation full of banter and glib ripostes. Though he would also miss the young five-year-old who found him so infatuating and thought the world of him.
"So not funny, Dick."
"Hey, be glad it's just me in here. Or would you rather take this to a more public area?" He gestured in the direction of the main entrance. "The girls would be amused."
"Ha, ha. I'm sure you'd get a kick out of that. Now do you mind? I'd like to actually wear these pants I'm holding." The redhead waved them in the air for emphasis while Dick gave him a once over that spoke volumes.
"Nothing I didn't already see last night, freshness."
The comment earned the acrobat a crumpled T-shirt to the face, but not before he caught a glimpse of the adorable blush that flooded Wally's cheeks, highlighting those damn freckles.
"Just turn around circus boy."
He shrugged and did as instructed, ignoring the way his ears burned from the rustle of clothing behind him.
"You're insufferable." He heard the speedster grumble before closing the distance between them. "My shirt, please."
"Oh, did you want this back? I thought it was a gift." Dick jibed, struggling to restrain the urge to jump his half-naked best friend.
"Well I could've given you a shoe to the face, but I figured the shirt would be more civil."
"How kind of you to think of me."
Wally gave him a nice scowl before walking back to where his shoes lay. The acrobat stood mesmerized as the speedster pulled the slightly wrinkled shirt over his head, back muscles flexing in a way that was most certainly not making his mouth water.
"Well that was a fun weekend, wouldn't you say?" Dick probed, chalantly.
The redhead flinched almost imperceptibly, quickly lacing up his other high-top. "Not really, I mean I don't really remember much after we ran into Chronos. It's all kind of a blur." He straightened up to leave. "So the weekend's over already huh? Shoot, I—uh gotta run. I have a lab due tomorrow. Catch you later?"
"Yeah...sure."
The speedster was gone before he could even get in a second, or rather, third word. Obviously Wally knew more than he was letting on—he didn't even question the foreign device wrapped across his waist, just took it off and left it with the hospital gown on the table.
Idiot. You're not getting off that easy.
Palo Alto - Wally POV
Friday, 22:15 PST
Almost a week had passed since he last saw the former Boy Wonder, though frankly, Wally was surprised he was able to elude him for that long. Distracting himself with his university classes and schoolwork proved nigh impossible as memories that he'd much rather sweep aside constantly resurfaced. Really, one of the few times he chose to come out of retirement and that kind of thing happens.
After the last time he spoke to the acrobat, he made his escape via zeta-tube and ran back to his apartment in Palo Alto. He might've run a couple hundred laps around the city to calm his nerves before actually going back to his apartment, but that was a minor detail. He then spent some hours on the couch, trying not to think about anything while simultaneously thinking about everything.
He could still see Chronos giving his belt a good punch and the next thing he knew, the world around them slowed. Then he made eye contact with the time traveler and knew he'd been figured out, knew that Chronos could tell the manipulation of time didn't affect him. Wally had to act fast before the guy decided to further corrupt the time-stream. The chance he needed came upon spotting one of Dick's birdarangs crawling along mid-flight. He grabbed the wing-ding and channeled the acrobat, though it ended up being a weak attempt at best. So he was a bit off the mark—at least the projectile made contact with the guy's head, still an effective hit. He dashed over and was trying to unbuckle that silly old belt when Chronos shouted at him, not that it mattered now that he had managed to gain custody of the device. He held it up in excitement, but realized belatedly that something was wrong. Very wrong.
And so, the next day and a half was spent almost exclusively with Dick...on his own request, apparently. Here's something you probably already knew: being five meant you had like, no inhibitions. None. Aside from maybe the one that prevented you from emptying your bladder whenever and wherever you happened to be standing, but other than that, forget it. Words and actions were basically a free-for-all. The whole experience was incredibly surreal. Oh, and in case you hadn't already figured it out, of course he lied. After the incident in South Gotham, he may have been turned into a kindergartener, but all of his memories stayed intact. And now that he was back to normal, everything from those 30-ish hours still weighed heavily on his mind. Without thinking, he panicked when the acrobat started up the subject. After everything that happened, he didn't know what the hell to think. Yeah, it was the best weekend ever! By the way, I love you, let's get married!
Yeah, right.
...Okay fine, so maybe that would be pretty amazing, but this was his best friend. How could he jeopardize their friendship by blurting out a confession like that? Though technically speaking he may have already done that (a number of times) but not quite of his own volition. Curiously though, Dick didn't seem put off at all by his childish advances. In fact, he played along rather well. Curious, indeed.
The rest of the week had passed by "in a flash" as Barry would much too often put it. The previous day was especially brutal though, what with the all-nighter he pulled for that 10-page paper, not to mention today's completely packed schedule. Luckily the day had just ended, and he thanked the heavens that his lack of sleep allowed for a decreased mental capacity, preventing him from mulling on all matters related to a certain acrobat, for now anyway.
He jog-walked back to his apartment, too low on energy to do any real sprinting. Food and sleep sounded delicious right about now. The level of his exhaustion was more than palpable as he dragged his feet up to the front door. He may have missed the keyhole a couple times before finally unlocking the darn thing—again, minor detail. The door shut itself with a click, after which he dumped his backpack on the ground, suppressing a potentially jaw-dislocating yawn.
"Nnn..." He banged his forehead against the door a few times, hoping it would clear up the hurricane ravaging his brain, or at least divert it a smidge.
"Is this what you've been doing every day? Because amnesia would explain why I haven't heard from you in a week."
"Jesus, Dick!" Wally huffed, retreating several steps in shock, his back hitting the wall. "I swear you're gonna be the death of me."
The acrobat replied coolly from his perch on the couch. "No, but the door could be."
"What do you want?" The redhead slipped in a little more malice than he intended, making his way over to the kitchen.
"A 'Hey, Rob.' would be nice."
"Don't you have a city to patrol or something?" He spoke into the depths of the fridge as he rummaged around for sustenance.
"I came here to check on you." Dick rested a hand on his shoulder, but he shrugged out of the grip, sidestepping his friend to continue his hunt for food elsewhere.
"Yeah? I'm fine, so you can go now."
"I'm not leaving until I get some answers."
"Well, sorry Officer Grayson. There's nothing to investigate here."
"Coming from the person who's been AWOL for 8 days."
"Dude, get off my back. I just needed some...distance."
"From what, me?"
"No, I mean…" He fumbled with his words. "I needed space to think."
The speedster knew he was being too obvious—even if that wasn't the case, the detective could figure out things like where he'd been the past month just by smelling his left shoe. But he knew why Dick was here, what questions he wanted answered, and he wasn't ready for that conversation yet.
"You remember don't you? Everything."
Wally brushed past the acrobat, abandoning the enticing prospect of food and the kitchen entirely, mumbling on his way to the bedroom, as if exiting the room might somehow make Dick drop the subject. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Don't give me that, KF." Dick demanded as he fell in step from behind. Wally, on the other hand, took a quick survey of his room and decided it was incredibly messy and needed attention immediately. "I can read you like a book even without Miss M's powers."
He began picking up a few shirts strewn about the floor and set them on the corner of the bed. "Just drop it alright?"
At that last word, Wally found himself abruptly pushed back onto the mattress, held down by the body he too often thought—wait, strike that last part.
"The hell, Dick?!"
But he wasn't having any of it. "Will you just stop running for heaven's sake and talk to me?" The guy's stare was so deep, he became convinced that all his secrets were scribbled in bold across the entirety of his face. This was, without a doubt, The Bat-Glare, passed down from the one and only. This was the look that made even the most strong-willed villain spill their entire life story.
"Damnit," Wally began, breaking the intense eye contact, focusing on his haphazard pile of clothes instead. "I was confused, okay?"
The acrobat paused for a moment, wrinkling his eyebrows. "Confused? About what?" He failed miserably in holding back a chuckle. "I think you made it very clear how you feel about me."
"I—but that was, I mean..." He rambled in a slight panic. "It's not like I had control over anything I said."
"Really." Dick mused speculatively. "So you don't like me? You didn't enjoy all that cuddling? And what about all those kiss—"
"Oh my god, just shut up already!" The redhead was blushing so hard he was sure anything within a ten-foot radius would turn into goo.
"Wally West," Announced the acrobat proudly. "truly fast with his feet, yet so incredibly slow on the uptake."
"Ugh." Said speedster sneered in mock disgust, rolling his eyes. "It must be tiring for you, always trying so hard to live up to your na—"
He was then silenced with a very self-satisfied kiss, the previous animosity between the two instantly evolving into a different kind of tension. He was hesitant at first, but everything about this felt absolutely sublime. All restraints quickly evaporated and both instinctively switched to auto-pilot, easily yielding to a rhythm that felt almost pre-choreographed. They grasped hungrily at each other, muffled whimpers and moans escaping whose throat neither was sure.
A break for air soon became unquestionably necessary, though both were reluctant to do so. He felt Dick's fingers lace themselves in his hair as their lips parted, foreheads still pressed together. The way he caressed him with those mesmerizing blue eyes did something to his insides that he didn't ever want to stop feeling. It dawned on him briefly though, that despite being two years older, it seemed unlikely that he would be the one dominating this relationship. Not that he minded, but he kind of minded.
Fingers still entangled in his hair turned his head slightly, a hot breath descending just above his left cheek, lingering there before something wet swiped the shell of his ear.
"Did you just lick me?"
Wally felt a smirk press itself to the side of his face, before a whisper ghosted over his ear in the most achingly tantalizing voice.
"I learned that one from you."
Evidently, this was a losing battle. A weak stammer was all he could manage in response.
"But I nev—"
He trailed off as Dick caught his ear again in a playful nibble, his train of thought long since derailed.
"God..." His breaths were coming out in pants from this veritable marathon of emotion.
The acrobat bit gently at Wally's lower lip. "So that's a yes then, you do like me?"
"Oh for the love of—get off me, you smug bastard." He pushed Dick off to the side, surprising himself that he even had enough willpower to relinquish the moment. But as it was, if he didn't get the hell away for just a second, Wally was pretty sure his heart was going to burst through his ribcage and end up somewhere in China. "I'm starving."
"Want me to make you a sandwich?"
"I'm not five." He willed his legs away from the bedroom, hoping his staggering gait wouldn't show. "I'm perfectly capable of doing it myself, thanks."
Dick followed behind without fail, a lion on the prowl. "You were cute when you were five. Couldn't go a second without me."
"Don't get so full of yourself." Wally busied himself with something—anything in the cupboards. "Someone had to keep you out of trouble."
"I believe you mean you were the trouble."
He scoffed. "And you're not trouble?"
"Oh, I'm trouble alright." A hand snaked under his shirt around his side and another dipped ever so slightly under the front hem of his jeans, the breathy words raising the hairs on the back of his neck. "Let's face it, you love me and my snark."
"Yeah, and I'm really reconsidering my decision on that one." He could already feel blood pooling low in his gut. "Dick, I—" He grabbed the acrobat's wrist and somehow felt compelled to say, "'m-not gay."
He was starting to feel just a tad nervous...about what this all meant and where they were headed, not to mention he was still struggling to accept his own feelings and technically speaking he wasn't really gay...
"But you're gay for me? I'm flattered." Wally swallowed a groan, but was unable to contain a sharp intake of air when he felt a hand grab at him, there. He wanted to deny it but it was getting increasingly difficult to hide his level of arousal, er, excitement.
"Okay, Boy Wonder." The redhead managed, spurred on by the emergence of an abrupt competitiveness and primal desire that overrode his earlier anxiety. "Since you wanna play that game, allow me to wipe that smug grin off your face."
"I'd like to see you try, Flash boy. I'm pretty sure I can make you scream for me first."
The pure thought of that sent an absolute thrill down his spine and tingles that reverberated throughout his entire body. Damned if he be taken without putting up a fight first.
"You are so on."