Chapter 3: Calendar, Show Down, Pancakes, Basketball
A week later found Nightwing at the Watchtower with his legs propped over the computer and hands fiddling with the calendar on his holocomp. Beneath the mask his eyebrows were pinched together and a frown was curled firmly at his lips. The team was sent home once the mission was over—leaving Dick Grayson by himself and struggling to rearrange his schedule to fit around Wally's. Or rather—to figure out when Wally had free time.
His said best friend had been busy over the past few days. He didn't want to push it by visiting Wally's place again unannounced—in case things really had gone sour since his last visit. Dick had left the after a few kind acts of his own—clean the living room, wash the dishes…
Something to busy himself and make the situation a bit more normal. Half the week Wally's phone had been turned off. Dick texted, but it would take hours before Wally would respond. The one conversation they'd gotten into, Wally had sounded stressed with Bart's voice in the background.
Well. At least there was someone who could cheer him up. Dick decided once he changed, he would make the gesture of once more of just…showing up. If that wasn't too forward. Dick sunk in his seat and pressed a hand to his face. He pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers and groaned.
Great, Grayson. Play the tentative crush. That was definitely his M.O. But that hadn't been his only concern.
Peaking through his fingers, he let the holocomp switch to the personal notes that he'd made throughout the night when he was out with the redhead. Wally had cut him off at every instance before he could suggest the red and yellow suit again.
The redhead disliked the thought of being at one end of a relationship, when his other half would be on the field and putting herself in danger on a regular basis. Given the crazy year and 'faking' deaths, Dick couldn't blame him on that account. Yet, in all the instances that Wally could have made his life faster (like cleaning up their chip fight) Wally had done so slowly. He'd walked through every room at a languid, human pace and…even drove a car now. Yikes.
"You look like shit."
"Funny. I've been getting that a lot lately." Immediately shutting the holocomp off, the corner of Dick's lip curled. A hand squeezed his shoulder, comforting and sweet, but also made him feel worse.
Artemis threw a powerade in his lap and greeted him with a smirk. She looked to him from the side with a hand placed securely on the chair. The two of them had to be the only ones left. Awake, anyway. "Wanna talk about it?"
"It involves Wally."
"Uhuh. Wanna talk about it?"
To that, Dick had to turn his head. He arched an eyebrow in the blonde's direction, mouth upturned in confusion. Despite his reaction, Artemis's demeanor remained. Which…somehow made him more self-conscious than he had been ten minutes ago. Or—in general.
"Never mind." Artemis swiped the Powerade from his grasp and pulled the old Boy Wonder to his feet. She was dressed in civvies—a dark turtleneck, jeans, and a pair of good walking boots. In a matter of seconds, she toed the pair off and trekked back into the vast empty space. "We'll spar."
"You're kidding."
Apparently not, given the next look Artemis dared to give him. The amusement on her face had yet to falter. Instead, she seemed to deem it a perfect excuse to goad him on. "Call it aggressive-aggressive therapy."
"Right." And Dick couldn't his own smile. In fairness, he unequipped both his utility belt, eskrima sticks, and toed off his shoes. Then, the old acrobat stepped forward in Artemis's space, assuming a more alert stance. They stared each other down, brown eyes at opaque lenses. Dick couldn't help the lump in his throat.
"So?" she asked finally. Artemis took the first strike. She feigned a punch, forcing Dick to fall back. Whirling around her, the teen grabbed their team's archer by the arm.
"How am I supposed to answer that?" Dick's voice strained in good humor and confusion. His thoughts immediately jumped to 'bed with Wally.'
The blonde in front of him twisted her body and delivered a quick swift to his jaw. Dick grunted in surprise, stumbling a few steps back, but recovered. They went back to circling each other, Nightwing's hand rubbing his mouth gingerly and Artemis warily grinning. "Pretend that he and I never dated. Or that at the moment I'm not in the equation, so you can tell me what you two idiots were up to."
"But I don't—"
"Talk to me like you would a friend to another friend, instead of the ex-girlfriend to your B.F.F." This time, Artemis's demeanor morphed slightly, her eyes narrowing in a dry threat. "We're friends. Aren't we, Boy Wonder? I'll kick your ass if some stupid bro-code means more to you than what we've been through together."
"I'm the one to blame for getting you two involved after three years of your retirement." Dick charged forward. He aimed to punch her, and the archer pivoted back with trained grace. Watching her with bated breath, he swung a leg in her direction and sucked on the inside of his cheek. "I'm the one who separated you."
"Is that what you're on?' Artemis swooped and delivered an elbow to the teen's stomach—which had more feeling to it than it normally would. She scoffed, and immediately the impishness from earlier disappeared, morphing infuriatingly. Which was when she swept her feet and forced Dick to the ground.
He landed with a grunt, and Artemis mounted him. "Oof."
She scowled. Uh-oh. An elbow was jutted at Dick's jugular, and immediately he knew he was in trouble. He didn't even try to break free. "You do realize that Wally and I are the ones that broke up," she started slowly, "aren't you?"
"I know that."
"I'm the one who decided to come back onto the team," Artemis carried on, voice rising vehemently. "Not you. Not him."
"And I'm glad to have you back. And he respects your decision to go back to the team. His anger just…" Dick shrugged jerkily, looking up to the evident frown across the blonde's face. "It has to go somewhere."
Her demeanor softened. Barely. A flicker of concern appeared in her expression, then immediately evaporated. Artemis pressed her elbow harder at his neck, lips stretched again. "Talk to him."
"Did."
"And?"
"How long has he driven a Honda?"
Pause. Blink, blink. Artemis tilted her head, eyes widening. Inwardly Dick groaned, anticipating the moment she would deck him. Instead, a carefully pronounced, "Huh," left her lips—and then she—"PfffftthahaahahahAHAHAHAhaha haa!"—laughed.
Dick blinked owlishly, looking at the blond in utmost confusion. Regardless, the woman above him simply toppled back, hand clutching her gut as another roll of chortles left her throat. She tossed her head back, cackling at the top of her lungs.
He rolled his eyes. "You D-O-N-E yet?"
"N. O." The team's archer wiped a tear from her eye and sighed softly. Slowly, she reclined and stood to her feet and sucked in a breath. Once Artemis was done laughing, Dick could see a flicker in her eyes. The smile that followed was miniscule, with thoughtfulness to her gaze that made his chest tingle guiltily.
"I'm serious," Dick started, feeling the need to clarify. "Clean seats. Proper mirror. Both hands on the wheel, driving perfectly fine—"
Artemis raised a hand to stop him. She extended it to help the teen up, and squeezed it tightly as they saw each other at eye level. Her smile stretched just slightly, even if the tension was still visible in her gaze. "You just let me beat your ass in a spar, Dick. Go hit the showers and put some civvies on. You need some evening pancakes."
Snort. That'd been how he ended up in bed with Wally. He was ready to say no, but the grin the blonde was giving him was too much to try and decline.
The old Boy Wonder considered himself lucky that their archer and he had known each other for so long. Artemis roughly pushed Nightwing in the direction of the team's 'designated lockers.' "C'mon. We're going to Flo's."
When he returned, Artemis had coordinated the zeta-beam to Gotham City. The diner both of them thought of was only two blocks away from their zeta-beam telephone booth, and the walk there had been silent. Dick thought better than to pester her. The way his night was going, he assumed he would be treading carefully for a while. Or, Arty was truly separating his problems and her life left behind with Wally. It didn't help that neither one seemed to jump at the idea of possibly getting back together.
Every once in a while, the blonde would pull out her phone and skim it for messages. By the time they got to Flo's Diner, Dick had a clear idea as to why.
"Is Kaldur really that worried about you?" He opened the door for her and looked expectantly as the archer's eyebrow raised in surprise. Dick only shrugged.
Before the Invasion was over, Kaldur had been reinstated as an official member of the team. Superboy, Miss Martian, Zatanna, and Rocket had taken the decision well. Other elder members too, relieved that an important powerhouse to their team had not turned evil. Yet there were still upturned eyebrows and few voiced concerns from junior members who had no choice but obey the decision or even leave.
(Fortunately in the next months it hadn't come to that. Discussing the ordeal with both Conner and Kaldur earlier on, they agreed it was a strange relief to see that the younger members were not willing to simply stand down.)
The following week had been a test for Artemis to officially return. Gar, knowing her as long as he did, had been ecstatic. The hesitation was apparent among other members, but they were hushed seeing Artemis on the field again. No one could doubt her skills. And—Dick did more than acknowledge them at times. Kaldur had been amongst the first to welcome her back. After so many months of working undercover together, it made sense they fell alongside each other.
"He wants to make sure that I'm adjusting," Artemis said finally. They sat at a booth, ordered two separate drinks and—got down to talking.
The diner that they had gone to had been inspired by the 50s, with black and white tiled floors. Waitresses got by with old roller skates and wore the same dark red poodle skirts. They greeted each table happily and the question, "What brings you guys to our retro-tastic diner?" The first time Artemis and he had come here was back in sophomore year when an old classmate, Bette Kane suggested it. They'd ended up laughing for hours—and downing six or seven malts that made them look as gluttonous as the old resident speedster.
Artemis's casual look disappeared, wry as her gaze narrowed to the teen and she shook her head dismissively. "You know Kal. He worries."
"Of course he does." That was what made him so respectable. Dick regarded his friendship with the man dearly after so many years. "Maybe I'm just surprised to see he owns a phone."
"It's waterproof."
"Are…you adjusting well?"
"For the most part." Artemis took the menus that had been lain out for them by their waiter. She sifted through the booklet without actually looking, and eyed the man across from her. Having her back on the team for the past week had been fantastic.
In many ways, Miss Martian had compared it to having Black Canary on the team again as a den mother. Wonder Girl had warmed up to their returning member quickly, Impulse seemed flippant about the idea of new members. To his surprise, Tim had been the one to pull Dick aside and make sure he hadn't ended up rolling himself into another stress ball. Most importantly, the way Artemis acted and reacted on the field made all of them happy. There was a light in her eye; a beautiful, victorious gleam that let Nightwing and the rest of the senior members know how much she loved and missed playing the field again.
Artemis stirred the straw in her drink and sipped it carefully. "I'd be better if Wally had been on board with it."
"Sorr—"
"Don't." She raised a hand again, blonde eyebrows pinching together in frustration. Dick couldn't help but think in the back of his mind of how Wally'd done the same thing the first night they were together. Brown eyes opened, narrowing at the teen that sat parallel to him, and stared at him sternly. "There's no fucking way in hell that I'm going to let you sit across from me and apologize for a choice that had been my own, Dick Grayson. Wally does not, and has never spoken for me. It was my decision to come back to the team. And we both made the adult decision to see other people when that happened. I should shove my quiver down your throat for trying to go in this whole, macho-'It's-my-fault' route. You don't talk for me either."
"Okay. Okay, point taken." Dick raised his hands as a peace sign, making a face as he did so. He grimaced as Artemis backed off, content with the reaction. "Sorry. Can I ask you something?"
"Of course you can." Artemis arched an eyebrow, surprise registering in her features. Like, why would he even need to ask that?
"The car thing. Why?" That had to be the weirdest thing he'd seen the entire night he was with their old resident speedster. Maybe since he donned the mask and the cape. The times that he'd ever been in a moving vehicle with the pair, Artemis had always been designated driver. She tutted when Wally would bring food into the vehicle and smacked him if anything dripped.
The said girl looked to him. She blinked, then lowered her shoulders with a smile quirked across her lips. "Weird to see him drive, isn't it? He used to be terrible at it. Idiot got a speeding ticket like every other mile."
"All he ever went was five over." Wally West only going five miles over the speed limit was never a sentence that crossed Dick's mind. Now he couldn't help the face that went along with it. "This…slowing down thing. I didn't think he was so serious about it."
"Apparently it was a graduation present. The car, I mean." Shaking her head, Artemis looked to him carefully and sipped the rest of her milkshake. "It was the only thing that he asked his old man for right before college. I ended up driving for the most part. Which was fine. Finally some open road. You know Gotham. It's either subways, taxis, or walking. Or in your case, a nice stretch limo."
"But. Wally." Dick made a gesture with his hands as though that described everything. He could see Artemis's gaze follow it—and for some reason, her lips twitched. "It didn't seem weird to you when he did it?"
"You know as well as I do that he puts the suit on if he really needs to. He's done it over the years." Artemis shook her head. "He and I both lived in dorm rooms our first two years in college. Dunno how his roommate took it, but Wally committed and slowed down. He was even late for a few dates once."
"Valentine's Day, 2014." Dick translated for her. One of Wally's bigger screw-ups.
The demeanor across her face softened. She shook her head gently, clearly replaying the memory in her head before pushing the hair out her face. Dick bit the inside of his mouth.
"I really am sorry," he muttered, and his chest tightened. "That you two broke up."
She'd probably gone the entire week hearing it from their friends. Artemis's eyes shut tight and she waved her hand dismissively before rubbing the ache out of her temples, clearly annoyed at how many apologies she'd gotten. "It was for the best. But." She looked to him expectantly, her hand curled tight around her glass. "You…really don't like the fact that he's retired, do you?"
I hate it. "I can't be mad at him if he wanted to step down. It was his decision." Dick ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "But speed is just who he is. For as long as I've known him, it's…been his thing. For him to not acknowledge it just…makes me mad." Yet every time he brought it up, Wally only got more annoyed. "And I can't hang with him the way it is now. I dropped everything last weekend to go see him. Don't think that'll fly over twice."
"You miss him," Artemis translated.
"I miss him," Dick agreed. "I want my best friend back."
"If…it helps," she reached over and placed a hand over his. "He felt like shit whenever you were given the leadership and he quit. He kept telling me how those two things shouldn't have coincided together."
"We were on good terms back then." A lot better than they were now. Easier with words and joking. When Wally and Artemis both announced that they were retiring from the team to focus on college, Wally had run out to him to make sure he was okay.
And babbled for what seemed like hours why the younger teen would still be able to operate without him. Wally promised they would keep in touch. Then, missions and schedule differences simply got in the way. And after the few instances Artemis spoke of where the redhead had put the suit back on, Wally had gotten stubborn as to why he wasn't Kid Flash anymore. More insistent that he wasn't a hero.
"No, Dick. He worried. A lot." A blonde eyebrow raised in the air. "I found him sitting in the souvenir room of the cave, staring at everything we'd collected over the years. Giving up being Kid Flash was the biggest decision he had to make. And he felt like he'd let you down."
"That's…" Wally had made it sound easy back then. Put the goggles and the running boots away and start a different life. Staring down at his drink, Dick swallowed hard.
"Wally puts the suit on now like he can turn it on and off. It's not that he hates running." Artemis's hand curled against his firmly and she smiled sympathetically. "Look. You and I probably know the guy better than anyone. He's been my boyfriend for five years, and four and eleven months of those, he's been an idiot. It'll be a while before he and I can be in the same room again. But you've got know that I don't blame you for our breakup and I'm sure if Wally has his head out of his ass, he's not blaming you for it either."
"Thanks."
"No problem." Artemis's eyebrow twitched and her look hardened, lips firmly put together. She studied him carefully, dark brown eyes scrutinizing every bit of the younger man. "If…you want something more than that, Dick, I won't be angry with you."
Pause. Dick met her eyes, blue orbs blinking.
"Seriously." If even possible, the archer in front of him—one of his closest and dearest friends, squeezed his hand tighter. "Okay?"
Did she just…? The team leader's mind went blank and his jaw slackened. He looked down to his menu, mind spinning and suddenly lost the ability to read. "Oh."
Just then, their waitress rolled by and apologized for such a long wait. She held out her notepad and asked them what they'd like to eat.
xxx
Later that night, Dick walked his blonde best friend back to her mother's apartment. She'd been right to say getting around Gotham was hard—by walking, by bus or by subway. Their excuse for doing so was to enjoy each other's company. Dick loved Artemis like a sister, so catching up with her had been easy. Almost easier than with Wally—which was a fact that he didn't mention. They trekked carefully around the subject of their ex-resident speedster, since what Artemis had told him about Wally rubbed him the wrong way. What she implied in the diner left him too flustered to bring the subject up again.
Instead, they focused on what Artemis planned on doing once she graduated college. (She was still going to Stanford, the blonde explained, but her and Wally's schedules had been so different anyway that it was unlikely they would see each other.) Once school was done and over with, Artemis planned on moving back to Gotham City, where she would work as a counselor for troubled teens in a rehabilitation center. She had a minor in nursing and physical therapy (for very troubled teens) and planned on "whipping brats into shape;" making sure they didn't end up on a bad road ahead of them.
There was a glow in her eyes from the way she talked about it that mimicked her enthusiasm back on the field. Once Artemis confessed her interest, Dick smiled and gave his seal of approval. She kissed him on the cheek, punched him in the arm, threatened to do it again if he blamed himself 'one more time' about Wally and her breakup, and left to meet her mother.
Dick laughed, promising that he would ease up on himself before walking the streets back to the zeta-beam port. He debated dropping by the mansion, knowing Alfred would feel obliged to make him milk and cookies like a doting grandfather, but decided against it.
Literally right before he entered the phone booth, Wally texted him. 'Wanna play basketball?'
Blue eyes inspected the message for a whole minute before he hit the Call button.
"Hello?"
"It's five in the morning." Dick arched an eyebrow.
"It's only two over here. On a Friday." In the background, he could hear a ball bouncing and—a crash, a curse, and Brucely crying for cover in the background. Dick stifled a laughter. "C'mon! I'm bored, you never sleep, and I have a score to settle."
"You mean the one where I handed your ass to you five games in a row?" Like, when he was fifteen?
"Yeah. That one. Call it a New Year's resolution."
"It's October."
"Dude—you gonna come over or what?"
Rolling his eyes, Dick checked the clock on his phone. He probably wasn't going to get any sleep anyway. Heaving a heavy sigh, he entered the phone booth and the coordinates. "I'll be there in ten minutes."
Thusly as promised ten minutes later, Dick found himself walking the streets of Palo Alto to meet his best friend. Wally was seated at the top of his staircase, a grin spread across his lips and the ball tucked under his hands. The redhead stood to his feet and dangled over the railing.
"Slowest Boy Wonder Alive," he declared.
"Sorry not all of us have super speed," Dick retorted. "Or in your case, patience."
"Yeah," a smile spread across Wally's face—strange, without any real emotion. He hopped down the steps three at a time with Brucely lagging after him and landed at his feet right next to the teen. "Too bad not all of us have it."
Hm. Dick crossed his arms and scrutinized his best friend. Wally had dressed up in a pair of basket ball shorts, with bright red-and-yellow Adidas and a sweatshirt for the night. He looked as eager as a little kid, which did nothing more than make mirth tingle behind Dick's lips.
"Sorry I haven't been able to get back to you all week," Wally said, interrupting his thoughts. His eagerness melted easily into guilt, red eyebrows pinching together. He scratched his head, running a hand through red hair and grimaced. "It's been…crazy. Trying to figure out this living situation. Plus Bart's been over just about every day. The Fam's worried."
"That's what you told me," Dick pointed out. But it was nicer to hear from the redhead's mouth than over text message. Relief swelled in his chest.
"Yeah. But." Wally shrugged. He rocked between his feet before throwing the ball in Dick's direction. The old Boy Wonder caught it without flinching, and was met with a shy smile. "We have a good thing going on. I've kinda been wanting to see you all week."
Oh. Dick blinked in surprise and looked his best friend over, stunned.
"What's the matter?" Wally took very little time to recover and find a jibe. He laughed softly and pivoted on his feet to change sides on the acrobat.
"Nothing," Dick said immediately, and he threw the ball back in the redhead's direction. There was a soft 'oof', but overall, the guy only grinned. Dick's lips contorted matter-of-factly and he crossed his arms. "You just don't write, you don't call. I was beginning to think I was a one night stand."
"'One Night Stand'? Criminy." Wally laughed so hard that he snorted, then jabbed his best friend in the arm. "You must have been bad, if I didn't bother to call you back."
"I could say the same for you, Fastest Teen Alive."
"Hey!"
"Hahaha." Dick trembled with hilarity, arms tight around his stomach. His shoulders shook as he crooned and he gestured to the hoop that had been installed over Wally's garage. "Same wager as last time?"
"Loser gives the other one a blowjob?"
"Was that really it?" Dick choked on another chortle as the speedster in front of him whistled good-naturedly.
Wally shrugged and bounced the ball in his hand. "Always said that to freak Arty out, remember? Then substituted with, 'Loser carries the other around the cave for a week.'"
Right. "You always lost."
"I did no—"
Dick swiped the ball out of the old speedster's hand and snickered under his breath at the immediate shout of protest. He ran the length of the small driveway with a naughty grin at his face and dribbled the ball as he did so. He felt Wally press against him from behind, arms wide to block his shot. "Rules?"
"Three pointers if you shoot behind the trash can," Wally informed. "Two if anything closer."
"Good to know." And then he shot the ball, landing it perfectly in the basketball net with a SWOOP! Brucely barked happily from the sidelines, tail wagging enthusiastically as he did so. Turning around, Dick split into a smug grin next to Wally's disapproving pout. He made a gesture to the hoop. "Two-pointer."
"Very funny." Wally's eyes narrowed and he smirked. "I'll two-pointer you."
"That doesn't even make sense, Kid—" The word 'Idiot' hung on Dick's tongue, but the moment he annunciated, he had to stop himself. Dick's face straightened and he looked to Wally to see what reaction it gauged.
To his surprise, the old speedster's lip quirked wider—maybe satisfied. They were falling into old habits. He picked up the ball as it rolled to his feet and threw it through the hoop. "Two-pointer, Bird Boy."
Heh. "Game on."
The last time they'd had a basketball game, Dick was at least half the size he was now. Back then he'd used his height swiftly—ducking and bobbing. Just because Kid Flash was fast on his feet back then didn't mean he was graceful—which resulted in a lot of Wally landing on his face and the first Robin jumping on his fallen friend's ass to slam dunk. In present time, he was able to shift his weight and confuse the speedster. There were benefits to having a competitor that had been off the roster for three years.
Well—some. Wally leaped high enough to block off Dick's jump shots. His arms were long, making landing three-pointers easy. (He'd also stopped circling Dick, knowing that it would only result in the teen tripping him and stealing the ball for himself.) Halfway through the game, Brucely got excited and joined them on the driveway. Dick found himself playing two against one after Wally threw the ball and his loyal dog nosed it to the hoop.
The teen had just stolen the ball and feigned left before shooting to the right. He heard Wally cry out in protest—then toppled over onto Dick. Dick fell flat on his face on the driveway with a, "Whoa!" and felt Wally collapse on top of him.
Ow.
A groan left the teen's lips, and he opened is eyes as he felt Brucely lick his face. The dog yipped in amusement, tail wagging as Dick looked at him. The redhead in question had his arms on either side of the brunet, head fused with his back. "Seriously, Wally?"
"Oops," was Wally's reply. Then—"Ow—ow, ow, ow—I think your back gave me a concussion."
Rolling his eyes, Dick turned over beneath his friend and looked up drolly. What he saw was a hand curled against the redhead's temples, and the other one molded around Wally's crooked nose. "You can't keep on your own two feet for longer than a few seconds, can you?"
"Now you're just hurting my feelings." Wally groaned again and scowled with exaggeration. Jeez. Drama Queen. "What the hell do you pack in that back, a brick wall?"
"Like you haven't run into enough of those." Hearing the old speedster snort under his hands, the teen couldn't help a laugh. He pushed Wally back and brushed the pair of hands away from his best friend's face. "Here. Let me see it."
"Only if you apologize."
"For what?"
Wally moved his shoulders in substitute for his arms. His eyes widened comically and eyebrows wriggled on his face in upset. "For the brick wall comment."
"I'm going to hurt you."
The redhead went cross-eyed and gestured to his nose.
"Fine. Whatever." Dick crooned softly under his breath and cupped Wally's face between his fingers. He pressed his lips together carefully, eyes scrutinizing his best friend's complexion.
Freckles. They'd faded over the years, but as close as he was, Dick could see the faintest freckles beneath his best friend's eyes and dancing on the bridge of Wally's crooked nose. Beneath the streetlights, Wally's eyes were dark, but still visibly—amazingly green. With…little specks in them. Eye freckles. The pigment in Wally's hair had dulled slightly over the years, but he still stuck out easily. (It was a given, really—considering the ketchup red and mustard yellow suit he'd worn for so many years.)
For a moment, Dick actually forgot what he was doing. Sweat from earlier was damp on his finger pads, glistening from a rough game. He was sure he looked no better, with bangs that were matted to his forehead and a bead of sweat he could feel trickling down his face. Biting the inside of his mouth, he pushed the red locks out of his old speedster's face and inspected the so-called 'bump.' Which, as he speculated, wasn't there.
"You're such a baby." Dick slapped Wally on both cheeks.
"Ow!"
"Point." Again, he could only roll his eyes as Wally whined before doubling over in laughter. He pushed off, staring at the man who sat parallel to him patiently as he waited for the redhead to stop. Wally's voice cracked higher—and he fell with his back to the ground with a content sigh. The ex-speedster held out his arms and legs like he was making a snow angel. "Any reason why you're in a better mood than the hyenas from the Lion King?"
Those green orbs looked to him, bottom lip twitching in good nature. Wally's hands curled behind his head and for some reason, he beamed with a smile. One that Dick hadn't seen on his face since they were kids. "Dunno. Bart came over, we hung out a bit. Then I kicked him out, of course. And then I was like—I wanna play basketball. I figured you'd be the only one insane enough to still be awake at this time of night."
"I'm flattered." Really. Though Wally's reasoning seemed odd, given how heartbroken he'd been the week before. This type of optimism was surprising, even for Wally.
The said man looked back to him, eyes narrowed and brow curled. His lips formed a smirk and he nudged Dick with his league. "So what were you doing up at five in the morning? Hot case?"
"Hung out with Artemis."
Instantly the smile evaporated from the redhead's demeanor. Wally blinked, pushing off the ground into a sitting position and eyed him in surprise. His lips tightened into a frown, hands curling at the ground. "Is she doing well?"
"She loves it." Dick didn't flinch. He reached over to pat Brucely on the head, who followed by resting across his lap. "She missed being a hero again and now she's got it."
"Oh." Wally's hands settled between his knees like a child. He fell silent, and for some reason it felt as though everything that happened prior to that moment hadn't existed. All the enthusiasm disappeared from Wally's eyes and his smile faded. "That's good."
He slunk back to depression. Dick blinked, watching the scene unfold before him and felt his chest compress. He bit the inside of his mouth and looked away toward the empty streets. It had to be at least four in the morning now, after two hours of harassing each other while they played basketball. He…wasn't quite sure why he wasn't prepared for Wally to fall into a slump again.
"I don't blame you," Wally said finally—the first thing, before returning to his ministrations. He raised a hand and waved it gently. "I'm over that."
"She told me not to put myself in the middle of it."
"Yeah." Shrug. The redhead closed his eyes and sighed—halfheartedly as enthusiastic as he'd been throughout their game and gloomy. "She's like that."
Dick frowned, taking in the reaction carefully. He watched the rise and fall of Wally's chest as the redhead quietly dwelled in his own mind, and the grimness that overshadowed Wally's orbs. Scraping fingers against the ground, he crawled over to the other man. "Do you…need to talk about it?"
Wally pressed his forearm to his eyes and shook his head. He was without a word in the following moments, lips tight and dried together. Dick's fingers tapped the ground nervously.
"Wally."
"It's not about her."
Dick stared at his best friend cautiously.
"I didn't want to be Wally West for one night." The other man halted. He peered from his arm, throat clogged and unclear, and looked straight to the old Boy Wonder. His gaze was mournful—frustrated, even. Sighing brusquely, he looked up, and a bit of hope shined beneath his frustration. "Stay with me?"
Reaching out, he tapped a nimble hand on Dick's arm, and his eyebrows meshed together in a quiet plea.
The dark-haired teen stared down at the knuckles that brushed his wrist. They were cold to the touch, with flesh that was in the moonlight. Turning his head back, he scrutinized Wally's face once more. Beneath all of the enthusiasm was the sadness of heartbreak. The adrenaline from earlier burned away eons ago into fear.
"Always." Dick pushed to his feet and pulled Wally off the ground with him.
The redhead's grip on his hand was numb—almost lifeless, even. Green eyes stared carefully at their interlaced hands, gaze flat and not a smile to his face. Again, Wally was quiet with whatever thought appeared to be in his head. Dick moved to unlock their fingers, feeling his chest tighten and heart ache, but Wally beat him to it.
Backing away, Wally started the path up the stairs and offered a smile in his direction. "C'mon. I'm hungry."
He picked up the ball and walked into his house. Slowly.
xxx
Author's Note:
Thank you so much for the reviews so far! We've got a long story ahead of us, so I hope I'm keeping you interested. (: