Disclaimer: I own nothing. :P

A/N: I like Matured!Wally a lot so this happened. :D

I know the Flash Family is suppose to have like really fast healing abilities etc, but there will still be scars right? :/ idk...

"Hit the showers, the Team did well today," Batman praised. Yup you heard right, Batman PRAISED us! How cool was that? Finally, the League is starting to show some faith in us.

"Little wing!" Dick came by and ruffled my hair.

"Nightwing… you know I hate that nickname," I pouted. Then again, Robin II isn't a very good one either.

"You love it," he beamed and joined Kaldur who was giving a report to Batman.

I headed over to the common showers. Wally already was there using all the hot water again.

"Hey save some for me!" I joked. Wally chuckled as I turned the water knob. Ahh there's nothing like a warm spray after a mission to loosen those tight knots in the muscles.

It was when I glanced over to borrow some shampoo from Wally that I saw them.

"Whoa, Wally, why do you have so many scars?" I felt my eyes widening as I took in the massive amount of healed lacerations and other recent wounds. It was not like I haven't seen so many injuries on a person before, I have seen Bruce come home fractured and riddled with holes, but I have never seen a 'super' with this much gash till now.

"Hmm usually when people ask about them I would call them impolite. When they press farther, I would just say I got them from my pet bear," Wally grinned.

"You have a pet bear?"

"That's beside the point, and most of the time that was all they would get. Anyway, but you know me and you should know the risks involved in our line of work. Didn't…" he looked over his shoulder to check was anyone nearby, when he was sure there wasn't, he continued, "Dick or Bruce ever told you?"

"Well yah they did but, you're a 'super'. Maybe a few bruises here, some cuts there… but you have so many…" I stared in astonishment.

"I could name almost every one of them." Inspecting each one, "They are my painful reminders of how close I was to death. You tend to not forget about these things," he mused.

"This one?" I pointed to the largest one that stretched right down from his shoulder to the base of his spine. He winced as his body recalled the pain.

"Heh, that one has the prize," he turned off his shower and patted himself dry. I was quick to follow to hear the story. "It was about a month into the hero gig. I was arrogant and cocky. Let myself get overconfident; Barry tried to caution me, but I was so sure my super speed would get me out of every bullet, every blade's way in time… I never heard it coming." His eyes had glazed over, then he looked at me meaningfully.

"If that knife had dug two more millimeters in deeper, I wouldn't be standing here now telling you this story," he tousled my hair then pulled a shirt over his scarred back. "The rest are usually from stray bullet ricochets or some lucky punk that got a timely swing in."

"I was too slow. Always too slow…" he whispered.

I didn't know what to say. The World's Fastest Kid alive is declaring he was too slow? What chance did I have?

I have only been wearing the mantle for two weeks after Dick officially handed me the legacy, I haven't suffered any really injuries yet and I always saw scars as awesome trophies. They kept warning me how this wasn't a game that the bad guys we face were out for blood. It used to fall on deaf ears though. This was a wakeup call for me.

This wasn't a game. I could die.

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