Chapter 10: Legacy
It was five in the morning when Bart finally made it back to Central City. The Tower had emptied out, younger members instructed to go back home and rest for the night. Tim promised to text him the first chance he got, but Bart insisted the other teen take the chance to sleep. They were finally off duty, which meant that it was a free-for-all on doting.
Now that you're the injured one, Bart explained, a mirthful and mischievous look across his face, I get to annoy you about your health.
Tim smiled, the weariness finally showing on his face. He'd allowed Kid Flash to carry him all the way back to Gotham City and gave him a sweet goodnight kiss before Bart ran back to home.
(Secretly—Bart just didn't want to rag on the fact texting was so slow. No one seemed to understand that.)
He used the front door when he got back to the house, accustomed to the affectionate creak the door had after the Garricks had lived there for nearly sixty years. What he didn't expect was for his entire family to be waiting for him in the living room.
"Bart?"
Huh. Looking up, Bart met the awkward and speechless looks of his entire family. Jay and Joan, Grandma and Grandpa, Uncle Rudy and Aunt Mary—and Wally, who just like Bart was still in uniform—cowl pushed back so the brunet could get a clearer look at the redhead's reaction. His cousin's eyebrows were upturned, a look of confusion stretched across his face, laced with the per-usual irritation and some strange sort of emotional constipation.
Unsure of how to approach the rest of the situation, Bart shrugged, waved, and pushed the yellow cowl off his head. It took him by surprise at first, forgetting his eyes weren't covered with the visor like with the Impulse uniform. After that, Bart walked across the room with a penchant smile. "So, I got a boyfriend! Oh, and I'm walking again."
"Where's your leg brace?" Grandpa Barry asked, voice distant.
Actually—hmm. Bart scratched his head and recalled the event. "Somewhere in a nice flowery field right outside of Gotham City?" Dumped right next to the R-Cycle.
"And…?" Grandpa gestured to the brunet's ensemble, clearly sporting the same look as his nephew.
"I'm Kid Flash now," Bart confirmed. He puffed out his chest, a pleasant grin coming to his lips. Finally, Wally's brain managed to reassemble itself, with a strange noise from the back of his throat as the man reanimated, reaching to rub his temples.
"So, you had a bad date tonight. Then you came to my place sulking to Dick and me. Then got into a fight with Robin again—"
"We're not fighting," the teen interrupted, "we're dating now."
"—and then showed up during the mission you were not authorized for," Wally finished, voice straining. "As Kid Flash."
Well—that was right for the most part. Other than the part Wally ignored about Bart no longer being single—but he decided he could explain all about that later. So, the youngest speedster nodded, arms crossed together and expression sobering. He shrugged jerkily like he'd been doing so many times when he was at a loss—but this time, it was a good thing. The edge of his lips curled into a bigger smileand he looked his cousin in the eye. "I found a new track."
The words caught his cousin's attention immediately, no doubt throwing the man back into the hospital room the day after Bart had been shot in the leg when he'd first uttered those words. Wally's body relaxed, but his eyes widened, glazing over with the proper acknowledgement.
Once that happened, Bart let go of the breath he didn't realize he was holding. He went through a thorough progression of the night (or tried to. When he started describing the exact color of Dawn's puke when she spit up on Tim, Wally hit him in the shoulder like it was a fast forward button) up until the point he'd finally put on the suit to help out his family. For the most part, they'd all been silent, with Barry and Jay's expression changing every once in a while.
"I read the books because that's what I did in my past before I became Impulse," Bart explained. He tapped his head, finally knowing the term for it. "And I could remember everything because of my eidetic memory. Everything that I've read up until the publication of this year is stored in my brain. I can…think. In this present time. In this decade."
"And?" Wally frowned.
"I want to be your partner. Your Kid Flash." Looking up, the younger speedster met gazes with his older cousin. His lips tore into a broad smile and he raised his head to be the same height as his cousin. Suddenly Wally's jaw slackened, eyes widening in surprise of the confession. Grandpa Barry and Jay, too—but not out of distaste. "You were Grandpa's Kid Flash when you were my age—younger, even. One day I'm going to be a part of that legacy like you are. So. You inherited the title. And I'm inheriting this one. Flash needs a Kid Flash. Right?"
By this point, Wally's face softened, less annoyed of seeing Bart dressed up in a uniform that obviously used to belong to him, and more…flattered. His eyebrows furrowed together, lips held in a straight-line. Green eyes of one speedster looked into hopeful eyes of another.
"Well, Wally," Grandpa cut in, an vague smile spread across his lips. "What do you think?"
"Kid." Wally's tone was almost inaudible. "You wanna be my Kid?"
Bart jerked pointedly and rolled on the balls of his heels. "I'm keeping the uniform even if you say 'no.'"
"My god—you are such a brat." Instantly Wally did the strangest thing, slinging an arm roughly around Bart's shoulders and pulling him close for a noogie.
"Hey—ow! No fair! You tricked me!"
His only response was a laugh—maybe a cackle, because there were times where his cousin could be sinister. Wally threw his head back with a chuckle, tightening his grip around Bart's neck and sported a maniacal grin. Mimicking the actions, Bart chortled as the rest of his family shared smiles of approval.
"I'm going to be strict with you," his new partner/old kinda-mentor declared. "Gonna yell at you when you drive me crazy."
"You already do that," Bart pointed out. He rolled his eyes.
"Yeah." Still, Wally grinned, swinging Bart around like he was a little kid—almost in a hug and smirked. "Congrats on the promotion, Kid. But I vote you're still dead for everything else you did tonight."
xxx
EPILOGUE
One Month Later
"What? You painted over my Cosmo!"
"Cosmo isn't an operative of Young Justice, you idiot—Kid Idiot. Wow. I see why you liked saying that so much when we were kids."
Rolling his eyes, Bart exchanged a smile with his boyfriend who, too, watched as Wally made quips with Dick and Artemis. Artemis punched her ex-boyfriend in the arm before muttering something under her breath. All out of affection, of course. Maybe. Hard to tell. They had a lot of scary blonde ladies that operated with the team nowadays.
Construction for the Tower was near completion. Walls had finally been lain down along with massive mirrors that let the sun flutter through every story. Each floor was intrinsically designed, and just last week, the senior members opted for a U-shaped couch for their home theatre room. Members who'd been put in temporary rooms now had a permanent place to stay.
Plus—a tower would definitely be easier to rebuild instead of an entire mountain.
"Were they goofy back when you met them?" he heard Cassie ask Gar.
A look of amusement crossed Gar's face and they—Jaime, La'gaan, Cassie, Gar, Tim, and he—looked to the six founding members of Young Justice and then some. Artemis, Flash, Nightwing, Manta, Superboy, and Miss Martian. The latter group distracted themselves in their own conversation, which involved a giggle from Miss Martian, lots of hand gestures from Flash, and a lot of eye-rolling from everyone else.
"Goofier," Gar confirmed. He crossed his arms with a smirk. "Wally had more freckles."
Of course. Bart snickered.
"You ever find a suitable team name for us?" Tim mused, joining into the conversation. Bart leaned into the teen's weight, pressing up against the Boy Wonder's side ever-so casually liked it happened all the time when they were at the base. Tim didn't shoo him away.
A smile curled at Cassie's lips and she rubbed her chin. "Titans."
"Titans?" Jaime scratched his head. "Like. Greek gods?"
"Titans. A Greek mythological primeval race of powerful deities, descendents of Gaia, the mother Earth and Uranus—heaven. Eventually overthrown by a race of younger deities called the Olympians." Bart rubbed his chin thoughtfully and hummed. "Pretty sure their dad ate them first."
"All but Zeus," Tim confirmed. "Then the War happened."
"Yeah. War. Lame." Shaking his head despondently, Bart split into a grin when he noticed Jaime's look of irritation.
"I think I liked you better when you were illiterate, hermano."
"Yeah, but this way I don't have to carry my text books around." Bart snickered again, elbowing his boyfriend in the arm. Tim was good as new after a month of recovery. Which was a surprise—given how hard Robin pushed himself on the battlefield. Then again, Robins were Bats. And according to Jaime, Bats were just freaky that way.
"Bart." Wally called him over after his conversation with the senior teammates was done. "You ready?"
"What? Oh—yeah." Pulling out of his own musings with his friends, Bart hopped over to the center of the room to meet his cousin. He relished in the words of 'good luck' from Jaime and the rest of them and grinned as his cousin and he stood parallel to each other, across from a line of fifteen paint cans and heavy-duty sheets of tarp that piled up to Bart's knee. They matched smirks.
"I have something for you."
Bart blinked. "Really?"
"Yeah." Then, Wally dug into the pockets of his shorts before resting the item in the palms of the younger speedster's hands.
Smooth red goggles, thick and firm at the grip, with an intricate carving woven around the edges. Bart recognized them instantly—then looked back to the redhead, eyes three times their normal size. "Your goggles?"
"Kid Flash's goggles," Wally corrected. The corner of his lip turned upward, one eyebrow raised carefully in the air with the amusement teeming in his demeanor. "So, essentially—your goggles. Earned them—even if you still manage to piss me off on a daily basis. You've done good, kid."
"You mean 'Well.'"
"Yeah. Like that." Regardless, the elder speedster snatched it out of his cousin's hands and placed them over Bart's head. They fit perfectly. "Think of it as an early graduation present. Or—something."
"Coming from you? I'm flattered." Bart snorted, looking up as though he could see them at the crown of his head. He made a promise to wear him with the uniform as soon as the race was over. Once they were adjusted properly, the brunet flung his arms around Wally's torso and hugged him tightly. "Thanks."
"Yeah, yeah." Wally's chest rumbled as he laughed softly and patted him on the back. "Now—get off."
Shortly after they were all sorted out, Bart and Wally returned to their current positions. Both speedsters reached for a new paint roller at the end of the line of paint cans and tarp paper, with Wally's engagement ring gleaming beautifully with the added sunlight. Dick approached them, the amusement apparent on his face. Bart couldn't blame him—his body was humming with excitement, ready to take off.
"There are nine floors in total to the tower including the Main-Ops center," their leader explained. "Lay the tarp out, duct tape the needed edges. Bart takes the odd-numbered floors, Wally takes the even-numbered ones. The ninth floor, Wally takes the right half of the room and Bart takes the left. Whoever finishes first is the winner."
"And gets first dibs on Miss M's cookies—"
"—right?"
Bart and Wally sported the same grin as M'gann laughed.
"Right." The corner of his lip turning into a smile, Dick inspected both of them. "Ready? Set. Go."
WOOOOOSH
Bart grabbed the first pile of tarp and slung it over his shoulder, clutched a paint can, looped two rolls of duct tape over his hand like a bracelet, and even swept Tim in a super-duper mind-blowing kiss before he descended downstairs to the first floor. He spread out the tarp across the ground, smoothing out the creases as hurriedly as possible, then lined all the windows with tape. He dug for his paint roller, vibrated it into the paint can, then doused the walls with the approved (boring) shade of blue.
He ran in streaks across the room, up and down, leapt, and made sure every bit of the room was covered. Once Bart was sure, he dashed up the stairs—quickly looked to the progress Wally had made to the second floor—
"Heynocheating!"
"All'sfairinpaintandwar!"
—and moved on to paint their gym.
The race carried on, with both Bart and Wally stagnantly appearing to the ninth floor where their refill on paint and tarp were. Once the first eight floors were paint and finished, the pair were neck-and-neck at the top floor where everyone waited for him. They smashed noses reaching for the last folded piece of tarp (SMASH. "OW!") and spread it out so fast that half their team members yelped and instinctively went airborne.
"Ten seconds," Nightwing called out from below.
The younger speedster immediately finished up his current job painting part of the wall adjacent to one window and carried onto the next. He didn't bother checking to see how far his cousin had gotten.
"Five seconds."
Almost—done—Bart plunged the paint roller, hand and all, into the paint canister.
"Four…three…two…one. Time."
"YES!" Wally won.
"Dammit!" Exactly one inch of the wall went unpainted before Dick had stopped them. Bart rubbed his paint roller over the said spot and fell to the floor with a groan. He wiped the sweat off his brow and pouted, while Wally threw his fists in the air and proceeded toward Miss Martian for a freshly baked batch of cookies.
Those around laughed as he threw his arms around her, gave a gentlemanly kiss to her cheek, and rammed four cookies in his mouth.
Sighing loudly, Bart crossed his arms and fell to the ground in defeat. He wanted cookies too.
"Good work." At least he still had Tim.
Green eyes looked to his boyfriend—who immediately held out one of his copyrighted bat-hankies in the speedster's face. A smirk quirked across the teen's face, which was when Bart realized he was covered head-to-toe in splotches of blue paint.
Wally, too—but his cousin seemed more occupied with eating. When the redhead reached out to kiss his fiancé, however, Nightwing bluntly shoved the speedster's face aside.
"Huh. Uh—thanks." Standing to his feet, Bart quickly rubbed himself off. Super absorpant—just the way he liked it.
"Wow, man," La'gaan remarked. He pointed to the ceiling where the younger speedster had been designated to paint. "You even managed to get the ear on the neck."
That stopped the senior members from their curious conversation. They looked up into the direction the Atlantean pointed to.
Still upset and licking his wounds, Bart refused to look up too. That is—until Tim reached over and placed a simple kiss behind his ear. Once that happened, he felt his cheeks tingle and looked back up. Tim kisses were the cure to everything. "You think so?"
"And the hunchback," Gar agreed. He rubbed his chin in approval. "I'd call it a masterpiece."
"What the hell," was Wally's only response. He stopped halfway from eating the cookie in his hand, eyebrow twitching.
On the ceiling was a strategically crafted Mr. Crocker, spazzing as he would on the Fairly OddParents and holding a paper graded 'F' in one hand. Bart tried to hide his grin—but couldn't, given the look on his cousin's face. Sure—being outrun by Wally (some of the times) was a major moder, but seeing that affectionate, 'I'm-going-to-slap-you-and-your-Kid-Idiocy' look made things a lot better. Like—a lot better.
Wally gave him the, I'm-going-to-slap-you-and-your-Kid-Idiocy look. "When did you find time to paint that?"
"When I found the ladder." Bart smiled back innocently.
Dick cut them both off before the ninth floor turned into a speedster death match. He held a grin akin to his brother's—one that looked positively smug—and addressed the room. "While we wait for the paint to dry, suit up. We've got a mission tonight."
Ten minutes later the team reappeared in the Main-Ops room. Bart entertained himself by stealing kisses every time Tim tried to set the goggles over his face. A giggle tumbled out of his lips—just as Tim snorted, from getting his nose nipped at.
Bart held the new goggles in place. "Do they look good?"
"They look great." Then, Robin bent over and kissed him on the lips.
The briefing started when everyone reappeared in the room, all standing awkwardly on the tarp. Personally, staring at paint while it dried had to be one of Bart's more favorite activities. He'd mentioned it to Tim once—and somehow that resulted with a massive paintball fight around the Wayne Manor—big brother and older cousin included.
Blue holograms surrounded Nightwing as he began the explanation. He seemed hesitant—and immediately, the teens recognized the dark blue man on the screen. Beneath his profile was the name JERICHO.
For a moment, Bart broke away from paying attention (it didn't happen often anymore—honest) to relish the pout on Flash's lips. He thought back to the entertained look Nightwing had sported only minutes earlier and couldn't help a grin. "You think I'm in trouble?"
"Don't think so." Robin leaned in, stature even and arms crossed firmly. "He's in a good mood."
"If you say so." Kid flash nudged his boyfriend in the arm. "Ready to operate the mission, fearless leader?"
"Yeah." They were so going to get in trouble. The brunet caught the faintest hint of a smile on his boyfriend's face—and was nudged back. "So long as we're together."
"Crash."
They listened to the rest of the briefing without interruption, and awaited further orders.
xxx
The End
Author's Note:
This was really fun to write! Thank you so much you guys, for staying around and reading all of it. There's a prequel work on this; called Coping Mechanisms for Idiots as I've said before. The BartTim isn't as apparent; it focuses more on Dick and Wally and how they got together before this story started. So if you're still interested, I'd look into that! (: There is also a picture on my profile of Wally and Bart for this story; feel free to look at it!