Disclamation! Teen Titans © DC Comics.

A/N! I was going through the mess of superhero stories I have stashed in my computer—I'm such a sucker for superhero cartoons: Justice League, Legion of Superheroes, Static Shock, Teen Titans (clearly), I love it all—and buried in the ruins, I found this, it's a few months old but not half-bad. I reread, edited it some, and decided, "Hey, why not post it?" And so, here it is. I hope you like it and please review!

Edit: Fixed a tiny slip-up at the end pointed out to me by an anonymous reviewer called Yi, whom I would like to thank very much for pointing this out. : )

Photo Box

Soft-soled feet padded quietly across the hardwood floor of the middle-class flat with an air of caution, leaving a trail of dewy smudge marks in their wake and the occasional drop of lilac-scented water. Jinx hugged her robe close around her willowy frame; the flush in her cheeks wouldn't be fading anytime soon and she shivered continuously as her damp hair dribbled liquid down her back. She was embarrassed and furious with herself for not thinking ahead—not to mention he was her only option and he surely would never let her live this down; she could almost hear him teasing her already, with his stupid beautiful eyes and his stupid charming smile and his stupid ability to constantly be so sincere that she couldn't get mad at him… Stupid, stupid, stupid…

"Kid Flash…?" she called out with trepidation; she tiptoed towards the door to his bedroom, she had never actually gone in, but knew it was his after having watched him zip in and out so many times in the past. She sighed; she'd always wondered what his room looked like on the inside, but she never imagined that she'd find out in nothing but a bathrobe—she thanked her sad few lucky stars that she at least had clean underwear on and therefore wasn't totally nude. If that had been the case, she would never have left the safety of the bathroom, not in a million years.

"Flash, I know you're here…I heard you come in, like, five minutes ago!"

Although, considering that this was Kid Flash and that there literally were millions of things he could get done in five minutes, it was entirely likely that he wasn't in the flat anymore—he'd told her yesterday that he'd be coming and going a lot today, something about prior commitments or family obligations, she hadn't cared enough to ask. She also hadn't cared to take the risk of him running in on her while she attempted to use the washing machine in nothing but her towel… Thus leading to her current situation: searching the flat for him in her bathrobe so she could sweet talk him into washing her clothes for her, because every time she tried to do it herself, the washing machine kipped out on her and spewed detergent in such a way that she was nearly convinced the damn thing was possessed. However, whatever kind of freakish ghost inhabited the thing, it was apparently very fond of Kid Flash as it never gave him any trouble in the slightest—he'd (teasingly) blamed her powers, but Jinx had never in her life had trouble with washing machines, so obviously there was something wrong with his.

She now stood in front of his bedroom door; it was firmly shut and the wooden surface was remarkably smooth considering how often he'd slammed it and slammed into it as he super-sped along his way. The only marking on the door was an engraving of his lightning bolt insignia, which the door bore like a Medal of Honor (because it had to be brave if it was to be the gatekeeper to his bedroom).

Sucking in a steadying breath, Jinx reached out tentatively and tapped on the lightning bolt—no response. She grasped the doorknob daintily and twisted slowly, fully expecting it to be locked—the door swung open soundlessly. The room within was surprisingly neat; it wasn't large, but it wasn't cramped—this was a pretty nice flat, after all—three walls were a deep ruby and the third, eastern-facing wall was a vibrant canary yellow; Jinx almost rolled her eyes, how typical of him. Somehow, though, it wasn't garish like she would've expected, but rather it looked okay—not stylish or fantastic, no, but it was okay—and even the bedroom set wasn't terrible. The bed was an average twin size snug in the corner of the east-facing wall, right under a yawning window curtained behind an ill-matching set of dark blue drapes (the only truly unfit part of the room), and the bed sheets were a predictable crimson scattered with little sunshine yellow lightning bolts. The bed itself, the headboard and footboard, were plain and wooden, only slightly darker than the paneled floor blanketed by a wide reddish-orange rug. There was a cherry wood bookshelf with only one shelf of actual books, the rest were littered with various knick-knacks, odds and ends, colorful little toys and trinkets, and a whole lot of comic books—Jinx was unsurprised. An awkwardly long desk swallowed a good portion of another wall; this too was a mess of haphazardly stacked manila envelopes and folders hastily stuffed with inappropriately creased papers, many very official-looking. Tucked amongst the massive stack of papers was a red third generation iMac, its stand-by mode scrolled shiny silver letters across a black screen: "I smell puppies." Jinx wasn't even going to ask. She stepped deeper into the room, looking curiously further; she noticed that Kid Flash had two wardrobes and smirked, even I don't have that much clothing. She wasn't going to dare opening them to see why he needed two, she could figure it out herself judging by the civilian clothes that spilled from the first dresser and how tightly sealed the second one was.

"Flash?" she called out again, though she could clearly see that he was not in the room; it was compulsive at this point. She scanned the room once more and turned to leave, and then a glimmer of something caught her eye and she instinctively whirled around to face it, clutching her robe tighter around herself. It was a black metal box tucked under the bed, partially hidden by a scuffed up dust catcher; it gleamed dully in the light that spilled into the dim room from the doorway, its little silver clasp winking at Jinx every time she shifted her weight…almost as if inviting her.

Unconsciously, the young sorceress padded forward, impossibly curious; her interest had been piqued and now she had to satisfy it—besides, Kid Flash was so docile she highly doubted he'd get mad at her for poking around his room. Annoyed, perhaps, but not mad. With a hasty glance over her shoulder, Jinx kneeled down before the bed and pulled the box all the way out: it wasn't very tall and it wasn't square, it was roughly the size of a shoebox, but more official and fancier; it was a treasure box. She hugged it to her chest as she sprung away from the bed and relocated to the gap between wardrobes; it was snug and probably made her seem ridiculous to an outside spectator, but it felt safe. She felt like she was reliving the past, stealing snacks and then hiding in a dark corner to eat without being caught, though this form of "petty crime" was a far cry less treacherous. The worst punishment she would face was Kid Flash's disappointment and while she hated when those big blue eyes looked at her with such sadness, it was more bearable than the madness of sitting in jail cells.

She set the treasure box on the floor before her, smoothed her fingertips over the bold 'W.W.' that was embossed across the top, and pinched the clasps carefully. The lid sprung open to Jinx's surprise, she'd expected to have to hex it open (not severely, but just enough to pop the lid), though this was much better. The thought of breaking something of Kid Flash's didn't sit well in her mind. The reason for the W's on the top made little sense to her, but Jinx didn't dwell on it for long, the contents of the box were far more interesting.

It was full of pictures.

The box was just the right size that it could neatly fit three rows of photographs, lengthwise, and have an extra inch of space between the tops of the pictures and the lid. There were tabs amongst the pictures, each one labeled with a precisely printed number in red marker; the order was chronological, but some numbers were missing: the time line started at five, skipped ten and eleven, and then ended at sixteen. Jinx furrowed her brow, reluctant to guess what these numbers stood for, and delicately pulled out the first photo in the left-most row, the one labeled '5.'

A round, washed out face grinned toothily at her, pink cheeks sprinkled cutely with freckles that matched the boy's fiery hair and caused his bright cerulean eyes to stand out in stark contrast. The picture had been taken at such an angle that suggested a parent had snapped it as if to make a testimony of the boy's messy eating habits. A corner of table was visible and it was splattered with the boy's breakfast and saturated napkins—the boy seemed rather sheepish. Jinx smiled in spite of herself and carefully touched the boy's beautiful, innocent face; she turned the photo over to see if it contained any further labeling on the back, any hints as to whom this little darling was. A flowing cursive was scrawled across the top, left-hand corner, clearly an adult's handwriting, told her that the picture was of "Wally, age 5, April 17," but was otherwise blank.

With another wistful glance at the boy, Wally it seemed, Jinx slid the picture back into place and then selected another from a different tab—'6.'

This one featured multiple children: a group of four all with their arms around each other's shoulders as they huddled together to smile up at the camera. The first child on the left was a little black-haired boy with hazel eyes that were narrowed by the enormity of his grin; the next was a slightly taller brunette girl with pigtails and sparkling emerald eyes; the third was the redhead from the previous picture, Wally; and the last boy was brown-haired and green-eyed just like the little girl, they actually looked quite similar. Behind the kids was a myriad of bright colors in the forms of what appeared to be streamers and balloons, and there was a man with his back to camera cutting a frosted white cake. This picture was captioned in that same cursive writing as "6th birthday – Richie, Dawn, Wally, & Don."

Jinx returned it carefully and continued to draw more pictures from the '6' tab, then the '7' tab and the '8' and finally tab '9.' By now she'd figured that this little redhead was Kid Flash and not just because the box had been in his room and that Kid Flash was a blue-eyed redhead, but because the infectious smiles were the same and each snapshot was a freeze-frame of some kind of benevolence or utter cheerfulness. A personal favorite was one she'd pulled from '7' of the little redhead, Wally…Kid Flash…(Jinx smiled whenever she thought his name, it was so oddly befitting of the speedster) grasping the sleeve of an older man. Wally was holding something out in his other hand, gazing intently up the man with eyes wide in sincerity—it was a look that Jinx clearly recognized, it was the same he'd given her when he'd told her that she could do better, that she could do good. The man was very tall and had short blond hair, his eyes were downcast and peering at Wally without fully turning his head; his sagged shoulders and tired stance told of a severely disheartened mood…which Wally was clearly trying to remedy with his earnest offering. Though Jinx wasn't entirely sure what the item was, she could just see that it was ragged and scruffy and perhaps had been blue at some point or another, it was now seriously faded, but whatever it was, it held a deep sentimental value and Wally was ready to give it up. Just like the hero Jinx had come to know and (secretly) love. She'd set this picture aside for some reason, though she knew holding onto it was out of the question…she'd actually done the same with the first picture she pulled, the one of five-year-old Wally surrounded by spilled Cheerios, she had gone back to retrieve it because it had been too cute to let go of. Sadly, the back of the photo featuring seven-year-old Wally and the older man had been without caption—specifically, the caption had been covered a strip of duct tape and was thus unreadable. Jinx couldn't imagine why, but the picture was sweet and classically Kid Flash and she adored it.

The photograph she now held cradled in her palms was no doubt going to join the other two in her favorites pile, because not only was Wally indescribably happy but it was also of him in a setting she would've never pictured him in. The boy, now leaner and ganglier and much tanner with a more noticeable smattering of freckles, was perched proudly atop sleek black horse wearing a helmet that was just too big and was hanging dangerously close to covering his eyes. The horse stood just as proudly by a white-railed wooden fence in a vast, healthy field, its ears were pricked and its daintily dished face gazed sweetly at the camera; Wally had the reins held expertly in one so that he could raise the other to wave at the photographer. The redhead was so relaxed in his seat, he was clearly a natural and utterly unafraid as he perched bareback atop what Jinx—being an equine-lover and avid horse (and unicorn) drawer herself—recognized as an Arabian mare. As if to further provide evidence to his confidence, Wally was dressed ever so casually in shorts and a T-shirt and his feet were bare of any shoes, as well as his helmet being a little too big. The caption on this one was in a different handwriting, a crisp, blocky, all-capital script: "JUNE 23 – WALLY (9) AND KIKO."

Jinx smiled fondly at the photograph and added to her small pile. And then the numbers jumped ahead and Jinx realized their significance, the photo collection was missing two years and judging by how extensively all the other years had been documented, this seemed very wrong. Now edged with an inexplicable anxiety, Jinx withdrew the first picture from '12' and peered at it cautiously; she almost didn't recognize him. The boy in the photograph was gaunt and pale, his vibrant freckles faded, his hair limp and dull, and his eyes were frighteningly blank as he stared lethargically up at her. The weak half-hearted attempt of a smile suggested that this occasion on which this had been taken had been meant to be a happy one, perhaps something to cheer him up as impossible as that notion seemed. But the boy in this picture appeared to be beyond hope, like there was nothing of him or for him; it was as if he'd lost any will to carry on and that terrified Jinx.

Every following photograph depicted that same hollow boy, the boy that just couldn't be Wally, and every following captions were written in that crisp, all-capitals print and were set in a different house than the ones before '9.' It was like he'd gone away, like he'd moved elsewhere, but it mustn't have been far because some of the new scenery was recognizable from earlier pictures…he'd just…swapped settings… Jinx also saw more of that disheartened man, only know the roles were reversed; he was now the strong, determined one tugging on Wally's sleeve and giving Wally that you-can-do-good look and, annoyingly, the man's name was always blotted out. But the hollow boy was the same in every picture: always pale and lifeless and incredibly sad.

Jinx didn't set aside any of the few '12' photographs and she was very nearly too disturbed to move on to '13.' It wasn't Wally in those pictures; it was a gaunt stranger who'd taken his place…his life…it wasn't Wally and Jinx didn't want to see this soulless replacement. However, something urged her to look anyway and so, with a steadying breath, Jinx pulled forth the first picture from the '13' tab.

It was that boy again, but he wasn't quite as empty, he had more color though he was still too pale and it looked like he'd finally bothered to start brushing his hair again. His smile was thin and he was too skinny, but there was more life in his eyes as he stood a little awkwardly next to that man, who also looked much happier. Jinx risked a glance at the back for a caption she knew wouldn't be there anymore, but surprisingly it wasn't taped over; though it still wasn't helpful at all, it was just that all-capitals script saying, "MY BOYS."

After this one, the photos grew sparse in date and shrunk in quantity, but the few there were showed that the light was slowly returning to Wally's eyes—little by little, he was becoming his old self again, but there was still something different. Wally now appeared to be carrying a weight on his shoulders; he was always either with that man (in which case the caption was all-capitals and half of it taped over) or with a couple of other teenagers (in which case the caption was recognizably Kid Flash's handwriting and the caption would be something incredibly unhelpful like, "Me & the guys"). Jinx couldn't put her thumb on it, but something about "the guys" was familiar; she was certain that she'd never met any of them and yet they triggered a strange sense of déjà vu in her.

Tab '16' had only two pictures and Jinx recognized them both, she remembered the days they were taken very clearly. The first was from not long after the Titans had defeated the Brotherhood of Evil once and for all and Dr. Light's ill-fated attempt at jewel theft. Over the course of the following week, the honorary Titans had had to be sorted out and were left with no place to stay in the meantime. Needless to say, the tower had been packed and the city extremely quiet. Kid Flash had had a place to stay, but claimed he was sticking around "to help with the Honoraries"—many of whom, like Jericho and the Herald and Pantha, had homes to go to and so returned once they received a new communicator from Robin. The photo was one of many that Kid Flash had compulsively snapped as each Honorary received their new communicator, this particular reception had been especially important because it was hers—the super villain turned hero being given the greatest sign of trust that could be offered. Robin had handed over the little yellow device without a moment's hesitation and he'd congratulated her a little more warmly than he had the others—he'd been proud of her, Robin had actually been proud of her! She'd been stunned speechless, which was just what the picture showed: Jinx staring at Robin in obvious amazement as he placed a communicator in hand with a smirk on his face. Jinx recalled how seconds after the flash had gone off, she'd been swept up into Kid Flash's arms and, oh, the expressions on everyone else's faces as he declared (loudly) how proud he was of her and how happy this made him and then how he'd kissed her unabashedly on the lips.

Jinx's lips tingled at the memory and she felt warmth prickling in her cheeks, she smiled at the photograph and tenderly placed it with the others she was temporarily coveting.

The second picture was more recent still, just a month or so old, of the day she agreed to move out of her dumpy little apartment and into Kid Flash's much more accommodating flat. He'd been ecstatic when she'd finally said yes and had immediately whisked her off so they could set up her new home. The picture was of the two of them collapsed on the floor amidst paint-splattered sheets of plastic having just finished coating the walls. Flash's arm stretched out of view as he held the camera aloft to take the photograph. They both had smears of purple on their faces and grubby, paint-stained shirts on and Kid Flash was wearing a mask that was more magenta than yellow—but they were both incredibly happy as they grinned widely with their heads pressed side by side and their hair tangling together.

Subconsciously, Jinx was beginning to smile as well and her eyes remained locked on Kid Flash's genuinely happy expression. All the tension that had been lingering since those missing two years was gone completely from this depiction—this was Wally, wholly and blissfully him. It was the same little boy covered in Cheerios, the same little boy who'd given up a treasured toy to cheer another, and the same little boy who'd laughed atop a gleaming horse—it was Wally.

"That one's my favorite."

Jinx jumped violently, nearly kicking over the photo box, but the boy in the doorway sped forward and pulled it out of the way. Then he straightened up and smiled down at her—Jinx flushed, embarrassed about being caught and in her underwear and a robe, no less; she tightened the rope around her waist.

"Yeah," she mumbled, attempting to dislodge herself from between the wardrobes; Kid Flash offered his hand immediately and she accepted it without a second thought. "It's nice."

She glanced at his face; he was masked, but she'd gotten good at reading him with it on. Surprisingly, he wasn't angry with her or even a little annoyed, he was just oddly mellow as he lowered the lid to box and cleared a spot for it on his desk. He noticed the pictures on the floor, Jinx's favorites, and collected them fluidly, but he didn't put them away like she expected him to. He just took a moment to absorb each one, smiling a little as he did, and then looked back at Jinx.

"I'm sorry," she blurted before he could even open his mouth. "I shouldn't have gone through your stuff, but I was looking for you and I noticed the photo box and I couldn't help but look at them—"

"It's okay, Jinx," he interceded, placing a finger over her mouth. "Really, it is."

"You're not…mad at me?"

He shook his head. "I knew you'd poke your head in here one of these days," he admitted and glanced at her wardrobe with a blush rising in his cheeks. "Though I did expect you to be, er, fully clothed…"

"Shut it," growled the sorceress, trying to suppress the brightening flare in her cheeks. "I was trying to find you so you would do my laundry for me. That washing machine really hates me, you know."

"Ah, yes, of course," Kid Flash said, nodding as if she'd just explained the meaning of life. "That must be it."

They fell to silence, unsure what to do, and Jinx stared at the photo still clasped in her hands. She frowned a little.

"Flash…?"

"Yeah?"

"How come '10' and '11' are missing from the box? What happened to you?"

He ducked his head and shuffled the photos in his hand, determinedly avoiding her eye as he strained for an answer. The silence dragged on and Jinx waited patiently, still standing in front of the wardrobes with the last picture in her hand—for a moment she wondered also where the pictures before '5' were, but that was a question for later.

"Well…" he said at last, glanced up at her and quickly looking away. "I told you how I wasn't born with my powers, right?"

"Yeah, you did," murmured Jinx, already figuring what he meant and she saw that he realized this when he nodded in somber affirmation.

"Getting them wasn't pretty; it really did a number on me."

"But you're okay now," insisted the sorceress, more to convince herself than him.

"Yeah." He managed to scrounge up a half-smile. "Fortunately, I had someone to help me, someone who'd gone through nearly the same thing… I don't know what I would've done without Uncle Barry—"

He stopped abruptly as if he'd said too much and peered at Jinx anxiously, but she didn't seem to notice his slip.

"You mean the guy in that picture?" She pointed to man in the favorite pile, the one being given Wally's token of concern, and Kid Flash nodded. "He seems like a cool guy."

"Yeah, he is, and his wife is really nice, too. She used to let me come with her to her grandfather's old ranch to ride horses." He shuffled the photo of him and Kiko to the top of the pile and stared at it fondly. Jinx recognized his attempt to divert the conversation away from the missing years and his uncle, but she let it slide—perhaps, one day, he would tell her when he was ready and she didn't mind having to wait.

"Alright, Flash," she said, shooting him a mock-glare despite the lingering smile on her face and pointing sternly towards the door. "Go do my laundry."

He beamed at her, relief evident in his eyes, and—after blurring momentarily as he returned the photos in his hand to their slots in the box—saluted her sloppily, "Right away, ma'am."

A flash of crimson and gold flooded her vision and Jinx was positive that she'd briefly felt his lips on hers before he vanished from the room. She laughed softly and watched the blur quickly fade away and gazed down at the last picture still in her hands. She wondered if she should put it back, but Kid Flash would've done it himself while he was tucking away the others—so did that mean it was okay for her to keep it? She certainly wanted to. Then Jinx decided that Kid Flash would have taken it if he hadn't wanted her to have it and she held it to her heart as she exited his room, relishing in the thought of always being able to see his weightless smile whenever she wanted, no matter what.

A/N: So who caught my sneaky Legion reference? You should let me know if you did, in which case you rather need to review, wink, wink. Thank you for reading!