A/N: So, this originally was gonna be a oneshot, but there was some interest in continuing it, so now it's gonna be a three-shot. Congrats! Lucky you!
He hid under his fluffy blanket, it rubbing against his dirty dirty skin. He gathered it around his pathetic little body (oh how it had wasted since he unofficially and unspokenly quit as Robin), and he stared at the walls. They were splattered with bright colors, as a result of Wally and Roy coming over one day when he was eleven. One hour after Wally had complained that his white walls were too 'boring', they were flinging paintballs at the walls with lacrosse sticks.
Now, staring at the brightly colored, impossibly cheerful and bright walls (that painfully reminded him of Robin), Dick prefered white.
It had been who knows how long since the disastrous bath. Dick hadn't said anything, hadn't opened his mouth even to eat, in fear that, if he opened his mouth….something bad would happen. Yeah. It was much stronger in his gut than when he actually thought about it that way.
The only words he had ever said was "Is it Tuesday yet?"
It never was. He couldn't do it just any day, it had to be that day. Everything good happened on a Tuesday. He wanted to add more wonderful luck to be added to that day by ridding the world from his filthy presence.
The only time he ever moved was to go the bathroom. All of water and anything sharp had been Dick-proofed, but that was okay. He just needed to go to the bathroom, so he didn't humiliate himself any further. Then, he waddled back to the bed, still wrapped in the amazing blanket, and continued his staring at the wall.
Same scenes, same splatters. But it wasn't like he was ever actually seeing it.
Suddenly, his vision of reds and purples and greens (and so many colors) are just replaced by one. Canary yellow, standing out like a beacon down the streets of central. Wally. Kid Flash.
"Dude, how do you even see in here?" Wally griped as a way of greeting. Dick, predictably, said nothing, just clutched his blanket and wished for something more sturdy to protect Kid Flash from him. "It's so dark….oh, right. You're a bat."
Not anymore, Dick wanted to tell him, but didn't. He wasn't Robin anymore. His last connection to his parents had been stripped away from him-by some common thugs, no less-and his very identity had been washed away. He wasn't their son anymore, he was even Dick, much less Richard or a Wayne. Just a filthy little kid living with people who cared enough to love him and were blind to the consequences of it. He wasn't the same little kid who donned the mask and cape five years ago, and that is a scientific fact.
"I'm gonna open up the window," Wally announced and, not a second later, bright (harsh) light filtered through the room.
Dick squeezed his eyes shut, wrapping the dark blanket around him. Not only was the sudden light excruciatingly painful but, with the blinds open, the outside world could look in. Could see him. They didn't even need to be in same room as him to catch him, he was a disease and surprisingly contagious. They needed to stay away. Not because he didn't love them but because they did. They weren't safe around them.
"Go away," Dick hissed, a practically whispered warning to his best friend. It would have to suffice, because his throat felt a sharp pain from the new use in a while(maybe not, it wasn't even Tuesday yet).
"Uh, no way, Dick," Wally said, and the creature he was spat and curled in on himself in response to hearing what was once his name. "I missed you dude, haven't seen you in weeks. No way I'm going away now."
Weeks? But...but that would mean it would be Tuesday by now, surely. Multiple. Bruce and Alfred….they lied to him. How-they wanted to pretend they wanted to keep him. They must've found out, somehow.
"Is it Tuesday yet?" He asked, reciting the words as though memorized for a school play. He needed to know. Surely Wally wouldn't lie to him as well.
"It's Wednesday," came Wally's response. Dick looked down, gloomy at the setback. Wait another five days? No. He needed to do it as soon as possible before the manor was contaminated out of Bruce and/or Alfred's skill level to decontaminate.
"Now come out of the blanket. It can't be healthy," Wally said, and Dick wanted to disagree, again. It was healthy for everybody(but him, but that was alright, because who honestly cared about him?).
But Wally had already pulled it from his grasp, brushing his fingers against Dick's. Dick froze, caught somewhere between the present and a flash back. Cold fingers, cold hands tracing against his body-but Wally's hands weren't cold. Quite warm, actually, as Wally's body temperature was notably above the average human's. Cold, cold, cold-exposed, tearing off his uniform, the scrape of metal(cold cold cold)- The air outside was cold to his skin, once his(and everybody else's) security was ripped away. December, blue, Whaddya want for New Year's? Oh, I know….
"Um, Dick? You okay?" Wally asked, not daring to touch the 13 year old to snap him out of it.
No, he wanted to tell Wally, shivering slightly. He was everything but okay. But all he could do was nod mutely, and have the world remain oblivious to his inner turmoil.
Wally sat down next to him on the bed, obviously a little uncomfortable and unsure. "You don't have to pretend," the speedster was oddly subdued. "I know what happened. Bruce told us."
Us. Dick winced. 'Us' obviously meant numerous people and, in this case, aliens, as 'us' most definitely meant superheroes. Now they'd all think he was weak, defenseless, and let the legend Robin left behind be shamed. His dirty little 'secret' was out, and it only further strengthened his resolve to "end it all".
After Wally left, then. He didn't want to go and scar his friend further than he already was and, besides, Wednesday was close enough to Tuesday.
Through all this, Wally was studying him intently with those damn annoying jade green eyes of his. Probably waiting for a reaction, which he wasn't gonna get. Not today, not ever.
"No response, huh?" Great. Now Wally was sad. Boo hoo. "I won't expect you to not come out of that changed, but just know that you're not alone. You're never alone. So….just give me a call, and I'll be there for you in a flash, okay?"
Dick recognized that was the moment to slip into the role of Robin, to smile at KF and say something along the lines of Thanks, but no need. I'm whelmed. (because everything was better and convincing when the word 'whelmed' or 'aster/astrous' was tacked onto it) But the role didn't come as easily to him. Instead, he just wanted to cry.
He somehow managed to keep a stiff upper lip, staring at the mesmerizing splatters and patterns that decorated his walls. "Goodbye, Wally," (Stay whelmed) He said instead, amazed at how detached he sounded.
Nothing could be further from the truth.
Wally sighed, and Dick knew Wally enough to know it was an angry sigh. "Fine, be that way." Out of the corner of his eye, Dick saw Wally throw his hands up in the air, an exaggerated sign he made when angry or disbelieving. "Here I am, trying to be a good friend and check on you. But, if you want me to go, I will. Bye, Dick. Have fun rotting in the loneliness of your own room."
And then he was gone, the only remnants being the indent on the bed and the disturbed papers floating back down to the ground. Dick sat still on his bed; a statue, watching. Bruce would probably be mad at the littlest speedster for coming to the manor in hero getup (with secret identities and all) but, hopefully, he would be up-too busy puzzling over Dick's strange suicide to be mad at Wally (last week, he thought that Bruce would be upset with that misplaced love, but now he know otherwise. He had lied one time too many to truly care)
Then he lay down on the bed and cried. Sob, really, which seemed like an appropriate turn of events. The window was still open, but he'd fix that later. He'd fix it all later but, right now, all he wanted to do was some proper grieving over everything.
What Wally didn't know was, when Dick said 'goodbye' to him, it was the final goodbye.