"Recognized: Nightwing B-01."
The cool, composed computer voice enunciated every syllable perfectly, resonating through the immense, metallic chamber. Stepping down from the platform, Nightwing took a glance around the empty control center. It was unusual for the watch tower, but he knew exactly where everyone would be. After all, today was the day.
The metal hallways of the Watchtower soon gave way to a mini-forest; a massive space filled with trees and grass and earth. Nightwing smiled as he heard the turf crunch beneath his feet: it was a wonderful feeling. Shimmering among the trees, like saints, the glowing hologram memorials of fallen heroes watched over the Earth .
He joined the others, gathered around one particular hologram.
Kid Flash. Fastest kid alive. The Golden Speedster.
Wally.
He almost couldn't convince himself it'd been a whole year since… Nightwing tried to take a deep breath, but it felt as if his chest were being squeezed. He almost wished that tears would come; anything would be better than the profound emptiness in his heart.
They all just stood there. Everyone stood and searched for words to say, but none came.
Bart stepped a little closer to Nightwing and took his hand. Nightwing looked down and half-smiled. There he was, Bart Allen, clad in vibrant yellow and crimson, carrying the mantle of his idol. Keeping Wally's spirit alive in all their hearts.
Nightwing reached his free hand to Beast Boy, who took Nightwing's hand in his own and squeezed it tight. He was afraid. They were all afraid of losing each other.
Beast Boy reached his hand to Robin, and so this went, all the way around the circle, until everyone was holding the hands of their teammates. Their family.
No one moved. No one breathed. Everyone was caught in the trance of the gently pulsating light statue, which reminded them very much of a heartbeat. A heartbeat they missed so much it ached.
Across the circle, Superboy's head perked up. Within seconds, Nightwing, and the others, heard it too. A familiar whoosh. Only it was... continuous and calm.
Everyone's eyes follow a dancing yellow light, making its way out of the trees and towards the hologram. It weaves and waltzes its way between the members of the circle, around bodies and under arms, leaving everyone with a warm, melty feeling, inside and out.
The light starts to shimmer and encircle around the hologram, spinning faster and faster. The hologram turns off with a whir. Nightwing, as does everyone, doesn't dare take his eyes off the light. Jaws drop, gasps are muffled: it can't be.
The yellow light spins so fast that it becomes a glowing orb, forming the figure of a human. A wonderfully loved and missed human.
Finally, on the platform where his memorial once stood, appears a glowing, grinning Wally West, looking just as bright and full of life as the day they'd lost him.
"Psych!"