I hate being sick… coughing hard enough that you're sobbing, fighting to keep your eyes open to even a squint, hugging your stomach in an effort to hold it together, curled up in a ball under the covers whilst hugging your teddy bear to your chest because you just know you're dying and you can't take it, trying to text back your friends with the lie that you're fine… then the medicine that's supposed to ease the pain makes your throat puff up so you're gasping for breath, sobbing, trying to cry out for help…

To make it worse… Sam and Hunter have kissed. She's in love with him… "He's like Edward and I'm his Bella… I need him… Do you get that?" Yes. I do. I hope he bites you on a main vein and you bleed out. I want it to be you sobbing for a change. I… you're no worse than Jodie, Nylorea… Bailey… Abby… Noah even! I hope Ashley takes Hunter from you! I hope they kiss in front of you so you know how I feel! I hope you text me after it, sobbing your beautiful eyes out so I can just say, "Sorry, I don't feel the same anymore." ... then you'll finally get why I'm so hung up over you. Come on Bella, look over and see that it's the long haired one you want! Damnit.

Where's my angel?

Wally's POV:

I had been happily asleep, drooling onto my pillow at the sight of the topless babes dancing around me in my palace of gold whilst it rained chocolate outside the gold laced windows. It had been one of those dreams where you just know it's a dream and that it's going to end soon, but you really don't care because, like I said, the chicks are topless, the palace is gold and it's raining chocolate. Dreams don't get much better than that. At least until these golden poles fall from the ceiling and the chicks start dancing.

By that time in the dream, I'm usually curled up under my blankets, one of my extra pillows serving as my bonerbarrier, proudly displaying it in my dream world under by royal red clothes. My 'exotic dancers' as I would refer to them if any cops were to come around, knew just how to move, every hip sway and head toss enough to make me forget how to breathe. They on the other hand breathed just fine, my name spilling off their perfect pink lips like silk, controlling my heart better than I ever could.

But then- like most amazing dreams that you'd love to be trapped in for all eternity as the half naked girls start to walk back towards you, their eyes gleaming with something that makes your stomach spike, it ended. This time though, it wasn't my mind that was the cruel bastard who found it necessary to hurt me. It was my cellphone.

"When you come over, you stay the whole day. I can't get laid 'cause people think that we're gay. I need some space. OH. MY. GOD. I need some space. You know that I like you… but you really annoy me… We got a bad… gotta bad bromance…" Bad Bromance by Shane Dawson blasted my eardrums, snapping my eyes open.

My golden castle quickly faded back to my small bedroom, the topless babes becoming my Xbox360 and the posters of bikini clad biker chicks. The chocolate rain was now just regular rain, mercilessly pounding on my window to remind me that life sucked again. Burying my face in my pillow, screaming angrily, I reached over and picked up my phone, pressing it to my ear.

"Rob, this had better be pretty damn important or I swear, I'm coming over and stabbing you," I growled, glancing at the alarm clock up on my dresser to read the flashing time.

It was 3:25. THREE FREAKING TWENTY FIVE! NO ONE GETS UP THIS EARLY! If Robin wasn't bleeding out in a back alley or something equally dangerous, I was going to go over there and shove a batarang so far up his ass that he'll have to start wearing skirts to his stupid prep school and have to learn how to pee sitting down. Or maybe I'd just forget about it and greet him with a big hug like always. There was always Playboy…

I expected to hear little Robin's happy giggle and feel the smirk, a shortened apology owning the line before some stupid reason like "I missed you" or "I was bored and I thought you'd be up to amuse me." I didn't get anything like that.

"W-Wall… Wally…" a heartbroken sob filled my mind, drowning my dream from my mind.

I sat up straight in bed, both hands flying to my phone to hold it tight to my ear. I quickly forgot how to be angry and I was suddenly wide awake, the pillow that was once between my legs now on the floor, my feet quickly joining it.

"Robin!" I cried in a hoarse whisper, my eyes wide. "What's happening? What's wrong?"

My heart raced faster now than the strippers had caused it to go, my eyes wide in the darkness. This had to be a joke; I'm sure it was. Even if it was though, I was still terrified. I had been called by Robin in the middle of the night- er, early morning, but he had usually been bored or really happy and just felt the need to tell me what he was doing. But now… It's never good to be called and hear nothing but sobs. And even the face that he called me Wally meant something. I was always his KF, his Kid Mouth, Kid Stomach! I was a little less than terrified… so probably scared? That's below terrified, right? Ah, damn, sorry about that. Back to Robin.

"C…can you… c-come… o… over? I… P-please…" his voice was broken, every letter shattering over the line on its way to my ears. "I-I'm so… I'm s-scared…"

I set the phone to speaker, resting it on my dresser top and tugging my boxers down a little, flying to my closet and ripping a baggy white shirt off its hanger.

"Calm down bro and tell me what's happening! Are you hurt? Is someone there? Where are you?"

I'm sure the words came out in a worried string, sounding like one long word, but I honestly didn't care. If my little birdy hadn't learned to understand my speed talking by now, then maybe he wasn't mine to begin with. I knew he understood though, as the soft sobs continued on through the speakers. I pulled the shirt over my head, rushing to another dresser to see if I still had pajama pants. I didn't think so, seeing that Uncle Barry was used to me sleeping in nothing but boxers and tossed them out, but I had to be hopeful. I doubt little Robbie would want to see me in my boxers, especially the pair that wasn't totally sexy on me.

I didn't have any pants. I mean, that isn't all too bad, but I didn't want to be nude all the way to Gotham City and I sure as hell wasn't wearing jeans! It's 3 in the morning! If I'm half naked, I doubt any one would see me running anyway. It's dark, cold and if anything, they'd mistake me for a rape victim. I could live with that. My little buddy was scared and he needed me. He'd just have to deal with my nonsexyness at this ungodly hour.

"I… I-I'm at… the m-mansion… K-KF… Wally… I-I n… need you… r-rig… right now…" the terrified words eased the cold silence of the bedroom.

His choice of words stopped my hand from closing around the phone, freezing my legs in place, preventing me from running to him. A feeling of dread washed over me and all the wrong ideas ran through my head.

"Need?" I repeated cautiously, raising an eyebrow.

If he was feeling horny and that's why he was calling… for one, that'd be really weird. Actually, it wouldn't be that weird. Even the sidekick to Batman had to get excited sometimes, but… he's my best friend, on the team at least. Best friends aren't fuck buddies! For him, I'd make the exception- but that doesn't make me gay! We're just really close and I hate hearing or seeing him in pain! … That's a lie. He's pretty cute when he's in pain… Damn. You know what; forget I said any of this. If this was a sex call, I was ready to answer. Just for him though. If Conner or Kaldur called, I'd tell them to go jack it in a back room like the rest of us usually do. I'm pretty sure they both have girls anyway. Little Robbie probably can't say that… we don't ever discuss our love lives besides the occasional gay crack…

"Please," it was practically screamed, causing my speakers to crackle from the volume. "I… I'm…"

Broken sobs cut him off. That was all I needed. I practically tore my dresser drawer out, sliding my red goggles up over my eyes, tugging my boxers down one last time before I dashed to my window and threw it open as quietly as I could.

"I'll be over in 20 minutes… just hold on Robbie…"

XxXxX

Robin's POV:

I desperately pushed at the window frame, gritting my teeth even harder to keep my sobs as quiet as I could. If Bruce heard, he'd call the police, FBI, CIA and every other letter of the alphabet before he even came up to see why I was upset. The tears rolled down my cheeks, being the only thing keeping me warm. I knew I could easily just slip up under the covers like I had been doing for the past few hours, but the warmth made me tired and every time I closed my eyes, I saw Wally hit the floor in my mind, screaming in pain, blood splattering over the floor. That only made the tears fall harder and I hated crying enough as it was.

"H-Hurry… KF," I growled, tugging as hard as I could on the window latches.

Bruce had the window latched and locked up with some strange facial recognition security system. There was no way I was getting out. 'Daddy-Dearest' obviously hadn't thought this through. What if someone broke into the house with a gun and had me pinned in the corner? I'd just have to die in the corner and he'd have to live with his mistakes. Like every security system, this one ran on a computer system and was hackable. Unlucky for me, my glove with every proper hacking tool was downstairs in the Batcave, right next to my utility belt. Once again, bad move on Bruce's side. Does he not think about intruders?

If I could, I'd slip out the bedroom and ghost down the hall, either slipping out the front door and running out to meet Wally or creeping into the study, through the bookshelf and down to the Batcave to find my tools, but that isn't possible because Bruce is paranoid in all the wrong places. He has an extreme lock with a code and bars and a bunch of intricately designed systems made to keep me barred in my room on my door of all things. The door is wood, so if I wanted I could just ram it a few times and maybe manage to escape with nothing more than a severely bruised/broken shoulder, but that's extremely noisy and it's almost 4 in the morning now. Bruce gets up at 4:30 so it wouldn't be too bad, but I can't risk it.

My eyes darted antsily to the clock. 3:47. Where was Wally? He was going to be here soon and the door was locked! He can't get in! I needed to see him! I had to know he was alive! I don't even remember willing myself to do it, but in a second, my fist was halfway through the glass in my window, a muffled scream trying to slip past my teeth. Blood dripped down from the glass that was buried deep in my hand and from the shards that had scraped lines into my arms. I breathed a string of cusswords, bad enough to make even the writers of South Park blush. It hurt of course but hey, I got the window open… That's a good thing, right?

I weakly pulled my arm out of the window, biting my lip hard enough that it felt like I was under some heavy anesthesia. I was numb and hopefully just heavy drooling from the liquids that were pooling up in my mouth. Part of me hoped that the pain would stop me from sobbing over the stupid nightmare, but it only made me sob harder. I could see past the gunshots, but I still couldn't put my mind past the blood. The blood that now started to stain my chest, smear all over my boxers and drip onto the floor by my bare feet kept running through my mind as Wally's blood.

"Damnit…" I whimpered, lifting my arm up so I could look at it in the darkness. "A-agh… o-o-ow…"

I gingerly lifted a pale hand and yanked the shards out, locking my jaw and screwing my eyes up as each shard was dropped to the floor. It hurt. It hurt like the worst kind of bitch. It hurt like the kind of bitch who wears the short and pretty outfits that you can't help but fall for and when you finally get to bang her, you find out she has AIDS or something of that degree. I imagine that's one of the worst kind of bitches, second only to the one that bangs your sister or brother or best friend. I wouldn't know because I'm not old enough to get it on with anyone. Now I looked emo. Great. Just what I wanted to explain to Bruce when he gets home from work later this afternoon.

I crossed the room and picked up my pillowcase from the floor. Apparently, I'm the only one who can't sleep when pillowcases are involved. I carefully took it and did my best to bind it tightly around my hand, mostly just so I wouldn't have to see the blood. Then, when scarlet was replaced by the dark green of my pillow, I walked slowly back to the window. I pushed it open with my right hand, seeing that the left one was all… well… you know… It took a lot more effort than it should've, but I got the window open at least. Maybe Bruce's security systems weren't as excellent as he boasted them to be. Or maybe they weaken at blood? I don't know how high-tech my guardian is when it comes to keeping me under house arrest in the night.

Then I saw him. At first, I thought I was just so freaking tired that I was seeing awkward white blurs, but white blurs don't cry out in pain when they faceplant into black gates with big W's printed on them. My heart that before had been scattered amongst my organs scurried up to my throat, blocking me from swallowing. It actually stopped the sobs for a moment, but not the tears. The tears stayed strong, gaining in strength before the sobs became happy for a moment. I hate crying. I hate it. I always feel so weak, so pitiful, so human! At just the simple reminder of my mortality, the sobs became cold again. If I had been special, I could've saved him… Dreams suck. I hate them all.

I'm not quite sure when Wally managed to untangle himself from the gate, tear across the yard silently and run up the side of the mansion, but when a pale hand stabbed blindly through my window, I made quick work to grab it tightly in my own and carefully help its owner into the room. Wally really came… I don't know why, but that made the tears pick up in speed. He cared… He was okay! He wasn't dead!

"Woah dude- I kinda need to breathe," Wally choked out, snapping me from my thoughts.

I winced, blinking off the confusion. When did I hug Wally? As I let go, wiping away the tears with the back of my good hand, I'm sure I was a little red in the face. My face was all tear scarred by now though, so I guess no one would notice, especially not Wally. My ginger stood there tall, in nothing but a big white shirt and boxers, his hair messy, his eyebrows furrowed and his bottom lip poking gout in worry. I didn't have long to look at him before he captured me in his arms, hugging me tight enough that I could hear his heart beat erratically in his chest.

"I never said to stop hugging me, dork," he teased in a breath, setting his chin on my head. "Now, what's wrong? Why is my baby sad? Do I need to go kill someone?"

I grinned weakly, trembling to hold down some ragged gaspy breaths, letting my tears stain his shirt. I didn't want to remember but I owed him an explanation. I bit hard into my already numb lip, setting my good hand to his chest and pushing him back a little so he would let go. After he took the hint, he followed me and sat down on the bed beside me, worry and fear still clear over his features. Being the proper speedster he was, he noticed my arm. In an instant, before I even knew he noticed, my bloody hand was exposed to the air, my fingers gently curled around a hand a bit larger than my own.

"O-Oh my G-… Rob! W-What the hell?" he cried, his voice an angry whisper.

At least he knew when to keep his voice low. If Bruce knew Wally was here… well, let's just say the team would be short two ex-sidekicks and the Flash and Batman wouldn't be as good of 'friends' as they were now. That was a relief, just like the warmth of his hand. I felt sick for the butterflies that moved about in my stomach, but I could care really care less. Choking back a sob, I scooted closer to him and rested my head on his shoulder, closing my eyes tight.

"W-window…" I explained, trembling.

I felt him carefully bind my hand back up, being cautious as if he was afraid of it, before he put one arm strongly around me and hugged me close to him. In my head, I was seeing the gun go off again… his body hitting the ground… I turned my head, muffling a cry in his shirt the best I could. It took strength, but I wrenched my eyes open to get rid of the horrible images.

"I… n-nightmare… you… you died… a-and I… I could… I couldn't save… you…" I managed to choke out, digging the nails of my good hand into my thigh to keep from closing my eyes again.

Wally must've noticed because in a second, he had that hand in his free hand, holding it tight. The look in his eyes; the one that tinted the emerald, the one that removed the sparkle, the one that proved to me how serious he was right now, the one that showed he cared, the one that showed he was worried; it was enough to stop the pain for a long time.

"I'm not dead Robin. I'm right here. I'm alive. No one could ever kill me, I promise. Do you want to talk about the dream or is that a chick thing?" he lowered his eyes to my exposed ones, making no comment about my lack of shades or clothing.

I weakly curled my fingers around his, blushing happily at the affection, lowering our hands down to the middle of both of our legs. He deserved to know. I made him come out all this way and he was in it… he was the reason the tears scarred my face…

"I… I'm going t-to… tell you… but i-it's sad…" I warned weakly, crossing my ankles as they hovered an inch or two above the ground.

He simply tightened both of his hands, pulling me closer. That was all the encouragement I needed. Taking a deep shaky breath, I told him the dream. Every awful detail.

Wally and I had been on the couch in the house we shared, watching a gory movie. He had his arm around me, a grin plastered over his face as the girl on the screen was sawed right through the middle by the cannibalistic rednecks. I had to turn away, hiding my eyes in his shoulder in pure disgust. When he started laughing, I weakly elbowed him.

"West, you're disgusting!" I cried, having half a mind to go to the bathroom and lose the well-cooked dinner he had fixed for us.

His eyes widened in fake offense before he hid a shy smile, scooting away from me and hiding his face, pretending to be hurt by the words. He rested his elbows on his knees, his perfect face hiding behind his strong and calloused hands.

"I see! Even my boyfriend can't love me! I think I'll just go kill myself!" he sighed dramatically, adding a fake sob for emphasis on his bad mood.

My eyes widened and I quickly scurried to his side, wrapping my arms around him stubbornly. He tried to push me away, but I held on stubbornly, grinning into his white shirt, the smell of his stupid cologne making my eyes cross happily.

"Don't be like that Wally…" I drug his name out, hiding a giggle the best I could. "You know I love you."

When he kept trying to hide from me, I quickly knocked his elbows out of the way and took their place on his lap, cupping his face in my hands and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. When he didn't kiss back, I continued to touch my lips to his, smiling stubbornly before each one. It didn't take long before he cracked, laughing and capturing my lips in his own. His hands reached up and tangled in my hair, pulling me closer to him.

"I love you too, Grayson," he whispered my name in a way that made me scrunch my nose up.

"Hold up a sec-," Wally interrupted me, reaching our interlaced fingers to brush away my tears. "Your last name is Grayson?"

I fell silent for a second, staring hard at him. Seriously? I told him we kissed. I told him we were dating. I told him he loved me in the dream and I loved him too. I told him he cooked for me! He was the house husband! All that and he was bothered about my name? I couldn't help but smile, closing my eyes for only a second to blink another few tears away.

"Yeah; Dick Grayson," I whispered brokenly, my eyes fearfully meeting his.

To my surprise, he grinned, laughing weakly.

"Dick," he giggled under his breath, "No- sorry. Please continue."

The second his tongue poked at my lips, the front door was kicked open. My eyes widened and snapped over, only to see a man standing there. He wore a baggy black hoodie, black sweat pants and he had a black ski mask pulled down over his face. In his hand was a simple pistol which shouldn't have scared me, but he was pointing it at us. Letting out a cry, I leapt off Wally's lap and picked up the phone, bolting down the hall towards our room. I knew running was stupid, but guns tend to make it harder for me to think straight. Wally sped up ahead of me, pushing our door open quickly and holding it open just long enough for me to slip inside.

Only once I was standing on the carpet did he slam the door shut, locking it tight and throwing his back rough to the wood. I copied him, digging my heels into the carpet and dialing 911 as fast as my fingers would fly. The man in black was quickly at our door, pounding hard at it with his shoulder from the feel of it. Wally and I glanced at each other fearfully, locking our feet and making sure to secure the door.

"911- please state your emergency," a girl requested quickly in my ear.

"Help! There's this man at our house and he's got a gun! He's going to try to kill us! Please send for-," I let out a cry as the man rammed into the door, "We'll need an ambulance! Get the police! Please hurry!"

When the man's slams got harder, Wally took the phone from my hand and chucked it against the wall, causing it to shatter into dozens of pieces, battery and all. I wasn't mad though. I would've done the same thing too.

"I'm scared Wally," I whispered, weakly meeting his eyes with my misting ones.

He had tears of fear in his own eyes as he bravely took my hand in his.

"Don't worry Dicky… They're sending for help," he tried to assure me.

He had to let go of my hand and press his hand to the door tightly, just as afraid as I was.

"You should've known right there it was a dream! Wally West doesn't cry," my ginger tried to sound brave, grinning hopefully.

I don't know why he seemed hopeful. Did he think it would cheer me up? It didn't.

"You… c-cried when w-we… were having th-that simulation… when you… thought… A-Artemis died," I remembered enviously.

His eyes narrowed and he turned his head, stubbornly touching his lips to my forehead. I froze in surprise, my eyes flying up to his lips. He didn't move them for the longest time, but when he did, he didn't make the annoying 'mwah' that most people did. He gently pressed harder for a second before he carefully pulled away, taking my breath with it. He must've noticed my confusion, but he chose to brush it off.

"Keep going," he urged, as if nothing had happened.

Then, to both of our surprise, the man stopped slamming against the door. We both froze, staring confused. Did he give up? No, he didn't. A second later, I was on the ground screaming in pure agony. The sound of the gun going off was a second too late.

"Dick!" Wally screamed, his eyes widening as he knelt down to my side worriedly.

I kept screaming, unable to do anything else from how bad the bullet stung. It was to the right of my spine and it burnt worse than any other pain I'd ever felt. Then, to my horror, the man continued to slam against the door. Wally desperately pressed his back to the wood, screwing his eyes up in worry.

"J-just hang on…" he pleaded, his voice trembling.

I couldn't. I couldn't move, it hurt to breathe, it hurt to hold my breath… I couldn't win, but I could save my boyfriend. I may have lost Batman, but I wasn't going to lose Wally.

"KF… get in the corner," I demanded, digging my nails into the carpet as I tried to talk past the screams.

He raised an eyebrow, a tear falling down his cheek.

"W-What?"

"I'm… going to… save you," I promised, smiling up at him.

Wally shook his head angrily.

"If I stop holding the door, he's going to get in and kill us!" he pointed out, his ears bright red, his teeth grinding into his lip.

When another shot was fired through the wood, narrowly missing his arm by an inch, he seemed to consider my idea.

"Why don't we just go out the window?" he offered, gesturing to a possible escape.

I liked that idea much better than being a human shield. I honestly tried to climb to my feet, but the pain in my back was just too much.

"You go," I begged, knowing perfectly well that he wasn't going to leave me behind. "I can't lose you…"

Just as I thought, he shook his head madly, letting out a terrified cry as the bullet got just a little closer to him.

"I'm not asking you! GO!" I screamed at him, trembling fearfully.

He screwed his eyes up, tears falling lightly before he ran across the room.

Once again, Wally rudely interrupted me. … Well… not rudely… I didn't mind the interruptions. It gave me time to remember what happened next and it made him hold me longer.

"I would NEVER leave you! Ever! I would've ran and got you and-," he started, his eyes showing how angry he was at my dream.

It was cute. Er-… yeah… it was cute. SHUT UP. I'm a kid with 'raging' hormones! If I want to think my best friend's angriness is cute, then damn you all, I'll think it's cute! If you don't like it, you can open an umbrella up your ass! I pressed his hand up against his lips, cutting him off lightly.

"Not f-finished yet," I reminded him, smiling shyly.

He echoed my smile, staring down at his knees.

"I… yeah… I knew that… just making sure you knew…" he mumbled, gesturing for me to continue by meeting my eyes again.

I hesitated, turning my eyes to the darkness of the room and taking a deep breath. I didn't really want to remember, but… he was so supportive, so nice about it… Maybe it was because it was 4 in the morning and he was tired off his ass, but I couldn't care less. I liked this Wally a lot, but not as much as I loved the loud and in-your-face Wally that usually waited for me at the Cave every day.

"Long sad story short: he shot you, I stabbed him, I shot myself. The end," I forced my voice.

Wally's emerald eyes widened in horror and he sat there for a while, staring at me. I spared him the details. He didn't see his own face, his lips pulled back in a scream as all of the life left his eyes. He didn't see the killer laugh, his brown eyes sparkling. He missed me grabbing the scissors off our dresser and stabbing the man, over and over. He didn't hear the bone-chilling sound of me striking bone, nor did he feel the man's lung pop under the sharp edge. He didn't have to hopelessly feel his own wrist, praying desperately for a heartbeat only to never get one, nor did he have to carry his own body to the bed, tucking him in as if nothing had happened.

He didn't have to steal the gun from the killer's hand and fire off several shots at the man's head to make sure he was dead. He didn't have to weakly crawl into bed beside the only man he'd ever love, wrapping an arm tight around him. Never did he have to press the barrel of the gun to his head, only after pressing a gentle good bye kiss to his lover's cheek, before he shot himself, ending the torture. No, I did. All Wally had to do was lay there and be dead, breaking my heart and ruining my morning.

"D… Dick… Can I call you that now?" Wally tested the name cautiously, obviously bothered by all of this.

I nodded weakly, afraid to meet his eyes. Once again, he succeeded to steal away my breath as he let go of my hand and cupped my face with his now freed hand. My heart ran rapid now, unlike his had in the nightmare.

"Dick… I…"

He took a hesitant breath, averting his eyes nervously for a second. My stomach was turning nervously, my mind jumping to hopeful conclusions. It stopped jumping, ultimately soaring upward to wherever minds go when they aren't in use, as he quickly closed the distance between us. Before I could breathe or even start to talk, which would've resulted in the classic 'mffgn' you fangirls use to symbolize kissing, his lips smothered mine, gently fitting right into place. My heart jumped, my mind crashing roughly back into my skull, the impact making my eyes fall shut and my arms reach up, wrapping around Wally's neck to pull him closer.

I honestly had no idea how to kiss in general; in case you forgot, my parents kind of died four years ago and I don't think Bruce would kiss a kid he's practically babysitting! Wally didn't mind though and I couldn't care less. I just went with it, trying to copy what he did, my stomach stinging from pure bliss. Just the sound of our lips brushing and moving, the sound of us trying to breathe while the other wanted their lips again, it was like the sun scaring off the rainbows, the rainbows being my tears and the sun being the sounds. I'm pretty sure I lost it when those delicate pale fingers tangled themselves in my hair, lightly brushing, petting and playing, all while his lips worked magic on mine.

Sure, I was clueless, but I was eager and that was all that seemed to matter to him. He opened his lips a bit more, excitedly encouraging me to move. Well, that's how I took it anyway. Maybe he was just trying to take a breath and I stopped him. He had a nose, he could breathe. I moved my lips experimentally, desperately hoping I was doing the right things, up until Wally pulled away, resting his forehead against mine to keep me from moving. We just sat there, him breathing on my lips and me breathing on his. I was getting drunk from it, unable to open my eyes.

"Robin, Dick Grayson, whoever you want to be… I love you… and I promise that your nightmare was just that," he gently pressed his lips to mine again and I desperately moved with him, not wanting him to pull away again.

I did like the 'I love you' though… I liked it a lot. I liked his lips more right now though. Sure, moments ago I had suffered through what was the worst of all nightmares, but this was the calm after the storm and I couldn't be any happier.

Crappy ending, I don't care. I'm not good with 1st person. I had this dream last year and I woke up sobbing from it. Miss West, Kitty, Albright… you guys remember the texts? *gah* Just replace Wally and Dick with Sam and I. I guess I hope you liked this. Please excuse all typos and such. I typed this on the Microsoft Notebook because Word wasn't working. So... um... yeah... Now, I'm going to go watch the Super Bowl. GO GIANTS! Review?

-F.J.