A/N: this will be a three-shot, updated daily. Dick/Wally, please let me know what you think!

I

Wally West was thirteen and had a dumb idea.

He had been having a pretty bad day up until that point. He had spent the night before sitting in his room after Barry grounded him for a night because of an incident involving his new trainers maybe catching fire, which totally wasn't his fault and the punishment was unfair. But apparently he needed to 'learn to pace himself', which was a usual Barry lecture he didn't understand. Wally had been wound up tighter as a result, his brain whizzing too fast for him to keep up as he tapped his feet irritably, forced to slave away at homework, stuck at his desk.

It was torture, frankly. These days, Wally needed the release running with his Uncle gave him. Staying still just wasn't an option anymore.

Because of all the energy hanging with him, Kid Flash hadn't been able to sleep. Lying awake until the sun came up was painful enough for a normal person, but for a speedster, it felt like a week; he was left with nothing but his thoughts as they stared at the ceiling, feeling a rising mountain of crap grow inside him.

He'd been grumpy in the morning, skipping breakfast and leaving early, but more time at school hadn't exactly improved his day; it only gave him more time in his Hell-hole, and longer for people to make comments. Being early had earned him more 'teacher's pet' jibes and a couple of punches. It was nothing he couldn't handle – but he could have done without it.

It came to him in chemistry class, as he completely zoned out (as usual, he learnt the entire syllabus back to front the first week back) and began to doodle in the margins of his notebook. It was a shabby piece of paper, the edges curled up because of how it was shoved in his bag every day, usually hurriedly; there was a coffee ring on the cover from where Barry used it as a placemat the last time Wally had gone to the CPPD to help out.

There were only a few scribbled notes on the lined page as he sat, knees bent under the stool he was perched at. It was enough to keep the teacher from noticing his lack of attention, and as long as he stayed quiet, the class had no ammunition against him or reason to bother him at all.

So he stayed silent. Wally tapped his pen at first, daydreaming, but eventually found it uncapped in his hand, a few wavy lines or scribbled calculations dotting the empty spaces like a piece of modern art - except it was crappy and mostly involved pictures of himself as Kid Flash, but buffer, to boost his ego.

He wasn't paying attention in the slightest when he added a cape and a domino mask to the picture, and it wasn't until a tiny drawing of himself as Robin looked up at him that Wally blinked hard, snapping out of the trance he'd fallen into.

"Huh," he breathed, a lopsided grin gracing his features as he considered the doodle. It wasn't a half-bad drawing (if he said so himself). Somehow, his day improved whenever he had time to daydream about his night life and his friends, the ones who counted – the thought of his Team made it all more okay. Biting his lip, school faded away as a plan started to formulate in his mind.

This was going to be epic.

When he got home that night, Wally sketched again, brainstorming what material's he'd need, getting reference pictures, feeling that little spark of excitement grow in his chest. His finger tapped so hard he left a burn mark on the desk at one point, after which he opted to take a break and go patrolling with his Uncle.

On that patrol, they took out the Top. It was a hard fight, and a long one; by the time they were done it was two in the morning. They were both burning from the exercise, but the hollow feeling was overshadowed by the pride at what they had done. Wally's stomach was growling 'louder than an angry grizzly' as Barry so aptly put it.

They went for burgers, running through the drive through (the employee's were used to it) and heading for a bank of the river to sit and eat quietly. If they went home, Iris would swarm them and neither of them would be eating anytime soon. So they sat on the grass, the city lights glowing from skyscrapers and neon lights of business shining on in the distance, the only sight they'd need that night to know they had done something good.

Central City was safe; they had junk food, and things were pretty okay.

When he remembered his grand idea, he told Barry immediately. The Flash spat out a hunk of burger laughing, lying back on the grass and holding his sides, the emotion controlling his entire body – nobody could capture joy quite like Flashes. Wally laughed along; glad it was with someone instead of the laughter being aimed at him.

"Oh Kid," Barry laughed, breathless as he sat again. His cowl had slipped, uncovering a tuft of blonde hair. "I'll make you a deal – I'll give you a $100 to make this happen if you help me steal the security footage of Batman's reaction afterwards."

"Deal."

The next month, he worked tirelessly. Having a project to do outside of school and the Team helped him, which was something he'd worked out about a year ago. Sure, being a hero was exciting, but he couldn't do it all the time and it didn't even come close to using all the energy bustling through his veins like fire, burning away at him in every boring moment (for a speedster, a dull minute can feel like an hour).

Putting his mind and body to something sharpened him the rest of the time, finally getting the release he needed. He went to school and planned things out in his head, able to ignore the jibes aimed at him and the boredom edging on every moment there; he went on missions with the Team who found Wally was less restless when it counted; and then he went home and spent more time with his Aunt Iris, who was happy to help.

The anticipation was almost as good as the prank.

The day fateful day came, and Halloween had always been pretty sweet in Central City. The entire city glowed orange with lanterns, pumpkins and the streets were decorated to the point of obsession – but Wally's favourite part was always seeing kid's dressed as Flash running around. At least half of the kids in the city donned red costumes like his uncles.

It wasn't a narcissistic thing, either. He used to be one of those kids. Wally West was just glad that they still believed in heroes.

He saw half a dozen of them on the way out of the city, but unlike usual, he had to be very careful not to be seen that night. Glad of the covert work he partook in regularly (badly, but he'd improved a little), Wally zoomed carefully out of the city, mostly avoiding the most crowded areas, although he paused just once in an alley overlooking the middle school. It was decorated for Halloween and a lot of the kids met there, excited to go trick-or-treating and collectively making an excited din of noise.

In the five seconds he paused he counted at least twenty Flash's – and his heart swelled as he spotted a few Kid Flash's among them.

Then he flew off. Wally didn't have much time for standing still, but he was glad he paused that time. He was still grinning, face curved comically upwards when he skidded into the hanger door, feet blurring as he tripped and fell, crashing headfirst and scraping his shoulder across the floor.

Jumping up, Wally did a double take to make sure nobody had been around to witness his failure. He breathed a sigh of relief to see no one around, quickly checking his costume hadn't torn and giving himself five seconds for his cheeks to blush as red as his hair.

Then he heard a snort. "Nice going, Kid Idiot."

Artemis. Of all people, it had to be the one most likely to never let him forget this. Wally spun on his heel until he faced her, "hey, babe. Is there any chance at all of us forgetting this happened and never mentioning it again?"

"Not at all."

"Dang it."

"Nice costume, by the way." Artemis half-smirked before looking over him appraisingly, biting her lip. She herself was dressed as a zombie, face made up to look decaying and white contacts making her eyes look terrifying. "It's almost perfect."

Under the mask, Wally pulled a face, "almost?"

"As much as I agree you're the person most likely to con everyone into believing that costume, there's only one Boy Wonder."

Despite himself, his frown turned into a gappy grin again. "And I wanted him to see it first, damn it. I should go and find him."

"I won't tell if you don't," Artemis actually grinned at him, passing him on her way out, "and you'd better stop smiling sharpish. No one will believe it otherwise. See you at the party later?"

Right, Wally remembered, M'gann wanted everyone to go trick-or-treating and to a party at her school again. She and Connor were still new to the whole Halloween thing and the Martian had been matching him for excitement all week, practically bouncing off the walls; even Kaldur was going, having asked the blonde archer to accompany him with a blush. Robin had left his invitation hanging, and Wally was sure he'd find his way to them eventually.

"Yeah . . . maybe," he replied, already distracted. A second later he ran deeper into the mountain, looking for his best friend. Because he wasn't watching where he was going, Wally ran right into the person he was looking for. "Rob!"

They had clashed hard and staggered, the younger boy falling as Wally (thankfully) kept his feet this time. Robin was not so lucky, tumbling to the floor and tucking into a roll on instinct, back on his feet as quickly as he had fallen. Slowly, he turned to face his friend, face torn between amusement and horror.

"I . . . I could say the same to you."

Wally spun around, finally getting to show off his Robin outfit. It was almost identical to his friends, from the cape to the yellow utility belt clasped around his waist. He had used pictures of Robin from TV and his own memory as reference to making it, and Iris had taught him to sew it all together from material he ordered online, keeping patient when he complained how hard threading the needle was. Of course, she had made him do the work himself, telling him it was a useful skill, but he was thankful for all of his aunt's help, and the extra time with her it bought him.

"What do you think?" he asked, trying not to grin too obviously. Wally was improving his 'Robin' persona too: no smiling, occasional wisecracks. The acrobatics was still a shambles, but at least he'd tried. "Dude, you have no idea how hard this was to make. My fingers are scarred for life."

When Wally looked, Robin's face was . . . torn. Most would have called it unreadable, but the speedster knew his best friend better than that – out of everyone, he knew what Robin was thinking on missions. Right then, the dark haired boy's lips were twitching slightly, wanting to smile, but sometimes becoming more of a thoughtful look, as if he was considering something. And his hand had tightened at the side. Dick wanted to either laugh or worry about Wally ever being in the position he was in, but Robin couldn't reveal too much.

Eventually, he cracked. The lips turned up into a smirk and the acrobat came closer, studying his friends work carefully, "you made this yourself?"

"Not everyone has an Agent A," Wally laughed in relief, using Alfred's codename like he'd been instructed to do in the mountain. "You're not mad?"

"Nope," Robin shook his head, standing a few feet away, "It's actually pretty good."

"I know, right?"

At the enthusiastic response, Robin laughed a little. "How does it feel?"

Wally hadn't really thought about it before. It was . . . odd. The speedster being used to his skin-tight suit, the added weight and clunkiness of the costume was unsettling at first, making him off balance but he adapted quickly, trying it out a few times before that night. He liked the cape, definitely.

"It's alright I guess," he shrugged, "took a little getting used to, but the cape is killer for dramatic purposes."

"You're such a dork."

Wally laughed, tackling his friend again, but this time the younger boy managed to stay on his feet and send his double to the floor. Lying on his back, the speedster shook his head, "I never could get a lock on those ninja moves."

Robin smirked proudly, "it takes the best."

"Smug."

"Yeah, so?" He sat beside him on the floor, "it really is weird seeing you in that. I can't imagine anyone but me in the Robin costume, you know? It's . . . I don't know what it is, but it's totally not asterous. And the thought of you going out with Batman is scary."

"Hey," Wally pouted, still lying on his back, "I wouldn't be that bad."

"It's not that, I know you're not an idiot, Walls. No matter what you let them all think," when Rob said that, Wally's heart glowed a little more, even brighter than it had seeing the kids dressed as Kid Flash earlier. It didn't matter to him what the kids at school said, not when he had a friend who really believed in him. Throw in that the friend in question was freaking Robin, and that was high praise indeed. "I just wouldn't want anything to happen to you."

Wally swallowed, his chest still burning with pride, "Oh."

"It would be a shame to get blood on your costume after you'd worked so hard on it."

Without even looking over, Wally knows Dick is smiling, putting Robin aside just for a moment, for the two of them. He feels his grin grow wider.

"So dude . . . wanna go freak out Batman?"

"Always."

A week later, Batman walked in to a League meeting to see a grainy image of his own horrified face on screen. The entire League was watching, most of them laughing at the image of a shocked Batman looking between two almost identical Robin's, blinking as the bird ran around him before dashing off together.

Next to the screen, an uncowled Barry Allen was laughing, bringing up slides of Kid Flash and Robin later on that night when they'd gone out to some party in each other's uniforms. His son grinned up from every picture, shock of dark hair peeking from under the Kid Flash Cowl which was slightly too big for him as Wally stood next to him, face completely expressionless, a scowling Robin.

He almost smiled. The next day he had spoken to his ward about precautions, but the boy looked so happy to joke about with his friends that Bruce couldn't quite get angry.

Still, he growled and stomped across the room, grabbing the disk from Flash and shouting a lot.

After that, a new picture joined the few scattered around the Batcave, this one tucked next to a computer screen by a chuckling Alfred: Kid Flash and Robin, side by side, just like they should be.