A/N: I miss Wally so much in season 2 and so I decided to write some sad fluff for Dick and Wally. I don't own Young Justice!

The Depression Wave

The depression always hit Dick at the most inopportune moments. When he was younger, the spells came far more often. He was more easily triggered. Batman helped him train it out of him, but Dick had never fully been able to shake it. The depression stemmed from the reason he fought crime: the murder of his parents. Little things could randomly trigger it in him. However, by now he could cover up how he felt to everyone. He could pass as okay and not an unstable wreck.

It had just been a little boy using bench like trapeze while Dick was going to get something at the mall. Two people had come over, clearly not his parents, but also clearly his guardians came over and picked him up. Dick had gotten what he needed in a daze and wandered back to his car. He looked around. The world seemed slow. The Earth didn't turn. The air stopped circulating into his lungs. Dick almost slammed into a semi in front of him before he snapped out of it.

His ears rang and he pulled up to Wayne Manor and got out of the car. He didn't hear his steps as he walked up to the old building and entered. He almost forgot to say hi to Alfred. The old butler immediately understood what was going and told Dick where the cookies were hidden and that there was tea ready for him in the kitchen. He thanked Alfred and went into the kitchen, but he had no hunger or thirst. There was a zeta tube right inside a manor and it took mere minutes for Dick to changed into his Nightwing costume.

It was all a blur as he entered the zeta tube and was transported to the Watchtower. Tim and Babs were smiling when he came up, dressed as Robin and Batgirl. He smiled back and gave Tim a noogie. They immediately could tell something was wrong. But they dare not question it. They knew better and they knew that they would never get the real answer. Dick told them that he was going to the rec room. Once he was out of earshot, Tim looked to Babs worriedly.

"Is he going to be okay?"

"I don't know, Tim, but Dick is strong…"

Meanwhile, Dick had gone to the Watchtower's rec room. He still lacked hunger and thirst and he just sat down and buried his face in his hands. Batman was off world. Not that Dick ever liked to go to him when he went into the depression. And there was only one other person Dick could go to. Wally. Wallace Rudolph West, i.e. Dick's best friend. However, he and Wally just hadn't been talking since their fight. Dick had been mad for months. He didn't want to talk to Wally and Wally didn't want to talk to him.

They had once been so close the two of them. Dick had trusted Wally with everything. He was the first to know his name, his backstory, see his face, and just be there for Wally. When the depression hit, Batman would set him loose for the night and Dick would rush to Wally's house or Wally would come to Wayne Manor and Wally would hold Dick as the raven haired sidekick sobbed silently until he couldn't anymore. He had let Wally see him at his most vulnerable and now he had betrayed his best friend's trust. And now, Dick was alone, so incredibly and utterly alone.

"….ing….w..ng…N…gh…wing! Nightwing!"

Dick's head snapped up out of his hands. He had practically fallen asleep in his hands; he had been so out of focus. In front of him was Bart Allen, Impulse, and his had a worried look on his face. Dick smiled up at him as best he could. Dick felt bad for a kid. He had come from a horrible future and now it looked as if he was failing his mission. Bart had lost his best friend too. Jaime's mind was currently being possessed by the REACH and that was a big part of the apocalyptic future that Bart had come from. You could see the hurt and pain in his eyes.

"Don't pretend to be okay," said Bart, before Dick could say anything, "I'm sort of one the masters at that, so, it doesn't fool me."

"I guess you would be," replied Dick as the two talked under hushed breath.

"I can tell you're depressed," said Bart. "But why aren't you asking for help? Nothing is stopping you."

"My only comforter doesn't exactly want to talk to me," sighed Dick.

"Wally, right? Don't let years of friendship go to waste because of a stupid fight. It's not crash. Maybe Wally will understand," said Bart. "I gotta run. They want me in the medical bay to check over my concussion again."

"I hope it starts to heal fast," said Dick.

"Don't worry about me," Bart instructed kindly. "Things can get worse, but we can always try to make them better." And Bart was gone in flash, despite him not really being allowed to use his superspeed.

"Kid should not be that mature beyond his years," muttered Dick, getting up. He was going to go tell someone that he was going to take a sick day.

It was down pouring in Central City, but Dick couldn't hear the rain. Dick stood outside Wally's apartment. He had a tub of triple chocolate and marshmallow ice cream to buy the ginger speedster just in case. His clothes were a light hoodie and a pair of jeans with sneaker and he lacked his sunglasses. He didn't need them here. With as much hope as he could muster in his downtrodden heart, Dick knocked on the door to the apartment. With a creek, the door open and Wally stood there with an almost disgusted and definitely angered smirk.

"What do you want?"

"Wally, please, listen to me."

"Why so you can silver-tongue me into faking my own death? So you can put my life endanger with Artemis'? I'm retired, Dick, that's all there is too it. And I don't want you around here anymore."

"Wally, please!" exclaimed Dick, his eyes pleading with the ginger. That was when Wally saw it. Dick was lacking his sunglasses. He was exposed and Wally saw it. He saw all the signs that one of Dick's rare depression waves had hit. The raven haired teen was forcing himself not to cry and the pain in his eyes shook Wally deeply. For a second, Dick wasn't a nineteen year old leader; he was a thirteen year old boy asking to come in to the West house because he wanted to see Wally. Because he had need Wally to comfort him. Wally could see it now. The stress, the pain, the guilt were all there in front of him. Dick's depression waves were short and spaced out. In fact, he hadn't had one in over a year and Wally knew it. They came from little things that reminded him of his past and then had him going through disorienting flashbacks of him watching his parents die over and over again and the following antagonizing guilt that Dick hadn't been able to save them…or die with them.

"Oh God, Dick, come here," Wally said softly as he pulled Dick into his arms and closed the door behind him. The ginger took the shopping bag from Dick and tossed it in to the kitchen. He wrapped his arms around his best friend and the raven haired leaned on him and sobbed. There were no noises, just tears and Wally rubs Dick's arms comfortingly with his thumb. Then Dick tried to speak.

"I-I'm so sorry, Wally," he whispered out.

"Dick, don't try to talk," Wally said, looking at his friend. "You know it only makes the pain worse."

"But I-I've done everything wro-," he tried to say.

"Sssh," Wally hushed him curtly. "I don't want to hear it, okay? Everyone makes mistakes. Some are more dangerous than others and they cause results that can't be fixed. But no one is dead from this. Artemis is strong and so is Kaldur. They won't die." And Dick was silent. He and Wally would stay in that position all night just like they used to. And in the morning, Dick would be better and act as if nothing had ever happened, the fight, the crying, nothing. And they would eat ice cream for breakfast.