Author's Note: Here is the first chapter of the Dick and Wally Halloween adventure I promised. I will try to have the whole thing up no later than Friday. I will also post Iris' pumpkin-chocolate-chip cookie recipe on my blog tomorrow so that anyone who wants to can try them out in time for the holiday. Don't worry; there will be more 'Silent Treatment' tomorrow, as well. Happy Halloween, and happy reading!
"Duuuude!"
Dick grinned at the exclamation that greeted his arrival in Flash's secret workroom. "Hey, bro!" he answered, bouncing out of the Zeta tube and towards a gape-mouthed Wally. "Nice costume," he added sincerely.
"I should be saying that to you!" The redhead reached out to touch a spiky gauntlet. "Is this stuff legit?!"
"Nah," he shook his head. "Real armor would have been way too heavy, even in my size. But Alfred's awesome with a 3D-printer, so it looks right even though it's just plastic."
"Daaang..."
"Your outfit is very convincing as well, Mister West," the butler complimented as he drew up to them. "I would almost swear that some dastardly fiend had gotten hold of – oh, a shrink-ray, I suppose – and directed it at your mentors."
"You're telling me," Barry chuckled from his seat at a nearby workbench. "When I saw him in the complete get-up for the first time earlier I thought I was losing my mind."
"You should have seen his face," Wally snickered. "It was awesome." His eyes widened. "What did Bruce say about yours? Was he, like, totally freaked out?"
Dick felt his smile fall slightly. "...He hasn't seen it," he revealed. "Uncle Clark came by with a mission last night, and the whole thing wasn't ready until this afternoon, so..."
"Oh," his friend groaned, commiserating. "Bummer, man."
"Yeah..." It was, he thought, the only hitch in the whole Halloween plan that they had worked out weeks earlier. Their scheming had been launched by a comment he had made about not having particularly enjoyed the previous year's candyfest. While missing his parents on that first All-Hallows since their murder had certainly been part of the problem, being semi-famous had almost been worse. For some reason the paparazzi, who had backed off somewhat as his first summer at the manor waned, had been swarming that night. Cameras had gone off at almost every door despite Bruce's angry glares, and more than one person had shoved their sugary offering out through the mail slot rather than risk showing up in the next day's tabloids. They'd switched neighborhoods twice, but not even Alfred's expert driving had been sufficient to shake all of their gossip-hungry tails. It had been a short night, and even though he'd known it wasn't his fault Dick had gone to bed feeling like he'd wasted both of his caretakers' time with the ordeal.
Upon hearing the story, Wally had loudly proclaimed that this year he would make sure his best friend saw what a real Halloween was like. The plan had started out as a simple invitation to trick-or-treat in Central City, where Dick could move about incognito so long as his famous guardian wasn't trailing along behind him. Barry said he was happy to play host, and Bruce had knocked everyone's socks off by only protesting mildly before he agreed to stay home. It was a sign of the importance he placed on giving his son as normal a civilian childhood as possible that he'd balked but slightly at the boys' second proposal, which involved them dressing up as their respective mentors for the evening's adventure. In the end he'd allowed that too, making his only stipulation that they not go out unattended.
It was this requirement that Alfred mentioned now. "Will you or Mrs. Allen be taking the boys out tonight?" he asked Barry.
"It's me. I'd rather chauffeur than fawn over every ghost and goblin that comes to the door, you know?"
"Certainly. Well, Master Dick," the butler turned to him, "I trust that you'll behave yourself this evening?"
A bit confused, Dick blinked up at him. "Of course! Why wouldn't I?"
"I'm sure I don't know, young sir. Suffice it to say that it is very easy to get carried away when there are costumes, candy, and other children around. But if you're sure..."
Dick frowned up at Alfred's serious expression, still uncertain as to why he was having to double-promise to be good. Then he caught sight of the jesting twinkle in the Englishman's gaze, and smiled. Alfred was teasing, that was all; it was just such an uncommon event that it had taken him a minute to realize. "I'm sure," he giggled.
"Very good. Then I will see you in the morning."
"Okay. See you in the morning!"
"Thank you again, Mister Allen. Good night." And with that Alfred stepped back into the tube, entered the Batcave's coordinates, and vanished.
"You're welcome," Barry got out just as the transporter's light flared. "...Damn, he's quick. I guess now I know where Bruce got his disappearing act from."
"Alfred's sneaky like that," Dick remarked. "So...when do we start trick-or-treating?"
"Yeah," Wally jumped in eagerly. "Can we go now? Please? It's after six; we should start now, before all of the good candy is gone!"
"Whoa, hold your horses there, kids." Barry raised one hand, and both boys stilled as if they'd seen his sign while on patrol. "We've got to check in with Iris first. You know how women are about having half a dozen last minute things they need you to do on nights like this."
Dick looked at Wally, who looked back at him. Equally unfamiliar with what the elder speedster was talking about, they shrugged at one another, then at the man.
"...No?" He wrinkled his nose and looked wistful. "Well, you'll find out soon enough, I guess. Tell you what, you go put your sleepover stuff in Wally's room, Dick, and then both of you meet me in the kitchen. If Iris does have a list, we'll get it done a lot faster with three sets of hands than one."
The boys took off out of the room, ran up two flights of stairs, and bolted down the second-floor hallway to the door at the very end. Dick was dropping his backpack beside the closet when Wally spoke haltingly. "Um...you don't mind sleeping on the floor again tonight, do you?"
Straightening up, Dick felt a mild flash of annoyance. "Bro," he sighed as he turned to face his friend, "how many times do I have to tell you I don't care what size your room is?"
Wally ducked his head, blushing. "I know, but..."
"You could live in a cardboard box and you'd still be my friend. Well...that wouldn't happen, because I'd totally bring you to live with me before I'd let you live in a crummy old box, but still...whatever, okay? Besides, your room is awesome." For all that the space was barely eight feet by ten, its clever layout made it feel bigger. Dick adored his own bedroom, but he had to admit that he was jealous of Wally's lofted bed, which let the older boy sleep directly under the glow-in-the-dark stars pasted to the ceiling. The shadowy desk area underneath the mattress reminded him of a cave – although Bruce and Alfred would both have cows if the Batcave was ever as messy as the redhead's homework station was – and everything else about the chamber was just so Wally that he couldn't imagine not liking it. "Think about who you're talking to here," he went on. "Remember the trailer we saw in that movie a couple months ago? The one I said was like where I used to live?"
Wally's head shot up. "Well yeah, but I don't care about-" He broke off, the flush in his cheeks growing brighter as he realized that he had been about to repeat his friend's own sentiments. "...I'm being a dork, aren't I?"
"Totally," Dick nodded. "But that's okay. I forgive you."
"Good." They shared a smile. "...Aunt Iris said she was going to make cookies. You want to go see if she'll let us have one before we go out?"
"Yeah!"
They thundered down to the ground floor, where Barry stood waiting with his hands behind his back. "Ready?" he asked.
Wally faltered. "...We were going to see about cookies first."
"I've got the update on that. Your aunt just pulled a fresh batch out, and she's in a big hurry to get the last one in before the doorbell starts ringing. I don't advise going into the war zone unless you want wrangled into oven duty. But..." He brought his hands forward and held out a pair of napkin-wrapped circles. "...I managed to not eat these two. If you hurry, you can get rid of them before I decide I can't hold back any longer."
"Sweet!" In an instant, Wally's cookie was gone. "So good..."
"Thanks, Barry! Mm..." Dick made an appreciative sound as the flavors of pumpkin and chocolate rolled over his tongue. "These are amazing. I don't think I've ever had cookies like these before."
"Yeah? Well, you can tell her all about it later. Maybe she'll give you the recipe for Alfred. Right now, though-" The doorbell rang without warning. The sound of something clattering came from the other side of the kitchen door, followed by a muttered curse. Barry winced. "Right now let's sneak out the back," he whispered, jerking his thumb towards the short corridor that led to the rear of the house. "It's safer that way."
They tiptoed into the backyard without speaking. In a minute they were slipping past the front door, where a smiling but weary-looking Iris was busy doling out treats to a flock of miniature princesses and pirates. Once they were ensconced in the car, they exchanged nervous grins. "We escaped!" Wally said dramatically.
"Slipped right under the old witch's nose!" Barry joked. "…Don't tell her I called her that. She won't see the humor until the knocking stops."
"We won't," the boys chorused from the backseat.
As they made their way through the slow-moving suburban Halloween traffic towards another subdivision, Wally explained the situation. Last year, he said, they'd trick-or-treated close to home; since he was dressed as Flash this time around, though, they'd deemed it smarter to go someplace where Barry wasn't known to all the neighbors. The odds of anyone putting two and two together would be relatively slim anyway, but in the interest of security they were taking the extra step. "Besides," he added as they pulled up to the curb at the beginning of a long, winding street full of Victorian structures, "I heard at school that the houses down here give out, like, full-size bars. It's worth the drive to hit up a rich street, you know?"
"Sure," Dick agreed. He didn't know, but it didn't matter; his excitement was already higher than it had been the year before, when they'd been followed almost from the gate of the manor. Here he would be anonymous, he thought as he stared out at the groups of masked children and their attendant adults. Here he could be himself without worrying about how good or bad he was making Bruce look. Here, he smiled broadly as a lawn decoration came to life and made a little girl squeal in delighted terror, he could have some serious fun.
Fifteen minutes later, Halloween was in position to edge out Christmas as his favorite holiday. "That was the best!" he opined joyfully as they ran back down the sidewalk to where Barry was waiting in the car. The last door they'd knocked on had swung open to reveal an abandoned and cobweb-covered entryway. Only when they'd called out a cautious hello had someone dressed as a werewolf leaped from the thick bushes beside them, making them both jump back in fright. Although he'd barely kept himself from punching the innocent homeowner, the king-sized chocolate bars they'd received for their daring had made the scare completely worth it.
"Hish teef looked tho realithtic!" Wally agreed around something he'd fished from his candy bucket.
"And the fur on his hands, too!"
The redhead swallowed. "Nah, I think that part might have been real."
"…What, like he's just that hairy normally?"
"Yup."
"Grooooooss…"
"That street was awesome!" Wally informed their chaperone as they tumbled back into their seats. "What's next?"
"…Shut the door, buddy. We need to talk for a second."
There was a pensive note in the man's voice that Dick sensed meant there was going to be a premature end to their fun. Wally's expression suggested that he was thinking the same thing. "What's up, Uncle Barry?" he asked as he closed the door.
"Ah…" Barry craned around to give them an apologetic look. "I made the mistake of turning on the radio while I was waiting. There's a hostage situation downtown. They didn't say they were waiting for anyone in particular to show up and fix it, but…"
"But you've got to go." Wally slumped against his seat. "Well…we could come with you!" he suggested, sitting up again.
"I don't have my costume," Dick reminded him morosely. He'd been having so much fun, and now…well, it couldn't be helped. It was far more important that Flash save the hostages than that he drive them around to get free candy. Still, though, he was never going to get a real Halloween at this rate.
"And even if you did, Bruce would kill me if I took you into a shooting situation without his permission," Barry added, grimacing. "…Sorry, boys."
"Wait," Wally said slowly. His forehead crinkled as he searched for a solution. "…Would he kill you less if you let us trick or treat by ourselves while you deal with the bad guys?"
"Uhh…" He looked torn. "I'm fine with that, but…"
His eyes traveled to Dick, who sighed. "But Bruce," he murmured.
"Right. But Bruce."
"But Bruce doesn't have to know," Wally pressed. "I mean, he's off on a…a thing, right?"
"A business trip," Dick, used to using code to talk about night work in civilian settings, supplied.
"Yeah! A business trip! So how's he gonna know? It won't take you more than a couple of hours to go and come back, right Uncle Barry?"
"True…and if I park the car a few blocks away and sneak into the house to get changed, Iris might not even realize…" Barry held his nephew's hopeful gaze for a long moment, then looked at Dick once more. "What do you think? Will Bruce ever talk to me again if he does find out that I ignored the one thing he asked me to do tonight?"
"Umm…" He considered the question for a long moment, chewing on his lip as he reviewed the facts. On the one hand, his guardian had been adamant that he stay in sight of an adult at all times that he was outside of the house tonight. On the other hand, the billionaire had obviously felt bad about the way last year's trick-or-treating had gone, and was trying to make up for it by letting him spend Halloween hundreds of miles from home and under a kid-sized cowl. Surely Bruce wouldn't want him to miss out on another Halloween just because some jerk picked October 31st to go nutso on...
"I don't know if we can keep it a secret for long," he confessed finally. "Mostly because...well, because I'm really bad at lying to him. But I think that so long as nothing goes wrong while we're out he'll be more glad that I had a good time than mad that you had to go take care of an unexpected problem without us."
Barry arched an eyebrow. "Are you sure?" he verified solemnly. "I mean, you know how he is, especially when it comes to your safety. I'm willing to push the envelope, but I don't want to end up paper-cut because I went too far."
Dick gnawed on his lip for another second. If Bruce was upset later, it was nothing that a few days of cuddling and begging him to please, please forgive Barry wouldn't fix. Part of him quailed at the thought of being so manipulative, but the greater part of his heart was just excited to experience a real Halloween with his best friend. Beside, so long as nothing bad happened – and why should it, in a sleepy city like Central? – there would hardly even be anything for Bruce to get mad about. "…I think it'll be okay," he ruled.
Barry hesitated. "Hmm…"
"Pleeeease?" a second young voice chimed in. "Don't leave us at home with Aunt Iris during trick-or-treat time, she'll make us help her answer the door or something lame like that!"
"Well, when you put it that way…all right," the man gave in.
"Yes!" Wally raised his fist, and Dick duly tapped it with his own. "Best Halloween ever!"
"Hey, now, there are rules you have to follow if we're going to do this," Barry curbed their bubbling ecstasy. "Listen close for a minute. I mean it, Kid…"
Ten minutes later they were waving goodbye to the vehicle that had deposited them in a neat and well-lit middle class area. "On our own, bro," the redhead beamed. "Let's do this!"
"All right!"
They'd been told not to go more than three blocks in any direction from their drop-off point and to be back where they'd started by nine. Seeing no point in wasting time, they began their assault at a jog. They paused only to top off their energy with tidbits from their buckets, and three dozen homes had paid them for knocking before Wally slowed to a stop.
Dick halted, too. "What's up?" he asked.
"This way's getting kind of lame, don't you think?" The older boy waved an arm to indicate the lots ahead of them. "Look. Everything's spaced out more, and nobody else is down here. I'll bet the candy's really lame if it's so quiet. We can hit way more places if we go back and start on the other side."
He had a point, but something caught Dick's eye as he peered past the glow of the streetlights. "What about that last house, though? The one way down there? It's pretty big; maybe they're giving out really good stuff like on the first street we went to." If no one else was on the block, he plotted, maybe they could even get doubles.
"It doesn't have any lights on, I don't think. Besides, it's more than three blocks from where we got dropped. We'd have to cross another street to get to it."
He looked closer. "…Oh. You're right." Shrugging, he turned around. "Okay. Let's go back."
"Cool."
"Hey, Pest!" an unknown voice rang out.
"...What was that?"
"Oh, crap," Wally groaned beside him. "Not tonight…"
He frowned. "What's wrong, Wals?"
"Oh Pe-est...!" the new tone sing-songed.
Five boys, none much older than Wally but all nearly twice his breadth, swaggered out from behind a tall fence. Dick's eyes narrowed under his faux-cowl. He didn't know any of the people in the approaching group, but their attitude was unpleasant and he had the awful feeling that 'Pest' was a mean play on Wally's last name. "…Are they bullies?" he let out of the corner of his mouth.
"Um…yeah. I go to school with them. They kind of hate my guts."
"They sound like jerks. Let's just keep walking and ignore them."
Wally shook his head slightly. "It won't work. They'll chase us, and I can't…you know. I can't just go. Not like this. Not out here."
Dick scrambled for an answer as the gang stomped closer and closer. If they could just get out of sight long enough for him to hop on Wally's back, then maybe…
But it was too late. A quintet of smug faces surrounded them, all wearing dangerous grins. "Hey, Pest," the apparent leader of the pack sneered. "Cute costume." His cronies snorted with mirth. "Who's this?" he went on, jerking his chin towards Dick. "Your boyfriend?" The laughter grew.
"…No," Wally ground out. "He's my friend. My best friend."
Dick had had plenty of his own experiences with bullying in the year and a half since he'd been in Gotham, and with all but two people he'd found that keeping his mouth shut generally cooled his opponents' interest. Listening to these strangers now, though, he discovered that it was much harder to roll with the verbal punches when they were aimed at his partner in crime. "What's your problem, guy?" he challenged, crossing his arms. "We didn't do anything to you. Why don't you just leave us alone?"
"Oh-ho, it can talk! Tell me, runt, are you actually Pest here's friend? Did he hire you to hang out with him tonight or something? Cause I don't recognize you. Although to be fair you're so short that I probably just can't see you under all the normal-sized people at school, huh?" Reaching out, he nudged Dick's shoulder roughly. "...Puniest Batman ever. No wonder you think Pest's scrawny ass can protect you."
Dick felt a little hitch of anger at that, but he let it go. Their focus seemed to have shifted onto him, and that was okay. It didn't matter if they made fun of him, because he never had to see them again after tonight. So long as they left Wally alone, he didn't care what they said.
But the speedster had had enough. "…What are you even doing here, Brent?!" he spat. "You don't live anywhere near here and none of you are in costumes, so what…what the hell, man?!"
"Oooh, better not let mommy hear you use words like that. Oh wait, she wouldn't hear, would she, because she dumped you here when she realized what a pest you are!"
Dick bit his tongue so hard that he tasted blood. If he let go now, he knew he wouldn't be able to stop; they'd end up in a fight, and the only way he and Wally would win was if they let themselves act like Robin and Kid Flash. That was out of the question, and so was getting beat up. "Chill, Wals," he breathed as the speedster began to scuff his feet back and forth, unconsciously preparing to throw himself at the aggressors. "Just chill. No trouble, remember?"
"No trouble?" The one called Brent leaned in. "You don't want any trouble, is that it, runt?"
"Yeah," Dick nodded, keeping his voice firm. There was a silky note that he didn't trust underlining the tall figure's words, but he had to at least try and reach a peaceful accord. "That's right."
"…Huh. Well, maybe it's because I get bored beating up little babies" – another round of guffaws sounded – "but…I might be able to let you two go tonight. If," he stressed, "you earn it."
Wally looked up skeptically. "Earn it?" he repeated.
"Yeah. Earn it."
"Doing what?" Dick asked slowly, certain that he wasn't going to like the answer.
A beefy arm extended above their heads. The circle of boys broke open to frame the dark, distant structure that lay just outside the three-block radius that Barry had restricted them to. "If you go in there," Brent intoned, "and stay for one hour, we'll only take half your candy and we won't beat you up."
"Um…that's somebody's house," Dick rebutted. "That would be breaking and entering. We're not going to commit a crime for you."
"It's not anybody's house, runt. It's abandoned, boarded up. No one's lived there for years." His voice dropped respectfully. "...It's supposed to be haunted."
"Yeah," one of his wingmen agreed.
"Bad haunted," another contributed woefully.
Wally nudged Dick secretly. Their gazes met and transferred silent disdain for anyone who believed in haunted houses. "…What do you think, bro?"
"I think it's outside our boundaries," he answered. "But I also think it's better than getting beat up."
Brent leered. "So…you gonna do it?"
Dick smirked, but he let Wally speak. "Yeah," the redhead said confidently. "We'll do it."
"...You're sure? You can't back out once you start, Pest, and if you do, we'll hurt you for real."
It was a real threat, but that only emboldened Dick further. All thoughts of what Bruce, Alfred, and Barry would think if they were caught breaking into an abandoned house outside of the boundaries they weren't even supposed to have disappeared under a flood of determination. Jutting his chin out and meeting Brent's suddenly careful gaze, he spoke a challenge of his own.
"...Bring it on."
