Disclaimer: NEW chapter and I'm still not the owner.
This has been betaed by the lovely FATEISoverrated!
Part Two: Ticking
Chapter 18: Messages and Messes
Waking up at home in Central was the most awful, most terrifying, most nerve-wracking experience in Wally's life. For a minute, he thought everything that happened in Star City had been a dream. After getting out of bed, he was somewhat pacified to see the exact same outfit he plucked out to wear to Star City. The second, and, most possibly, best piece of evidence happened to occur when he logged onto the computer to check his emails for a message from his mother or the school.
Right there in his contact list, two new emails were registered – harper.R and robinrox86. The first one was most obviously Roy, especially with the added Queen Industries email looking like it was meant to be an email for work. Serious and practical. The second one was harder to place. It was a generic W-mail ID, as sponsored by Wayne Industries, but it could literally be any kid with an interest in Robin and a W-mail account. Even the picture was blanked out to just have the generic W-mail blank photo. The picture he had chosen for his account was of balloons.
Nervously, Wally stared at the screen, trying to make sense of it all. Uncle Barry would be really upset if he was talking to a stranger on the computer, but he couldn't ask Uncle Barry to confirm the email because he wasn't supposed to know about his meeting with Robin.
Before Wally could come to a decision on what to do, a chat box popped up. The chat had one Roy Harper and the other, robinrox86. Apparently Robin didn't choose to enter his own name. Hesitantly, Wally stared, trying to make sense.
It's actually Roy and Rob – RR86
His email is weird. Stupid Gotham paranoia. Relax Wally, no predators here – RH
Wally paused and relaxed, before his leg starts to vibrate in excitement. He had Robin and Speedy's emails and they were chatting. He excitedly reached out and typed on the keys furiously, causing the W key to slip slightly off the keyboard, forcing him to stop, pause shamefully and slow back down again. This time, he managed to slow down extraordinarily better than before, but then again, he hadn't really gotten started. Or maybe he was getting better at that. Plus, he was starving.
After racing out to the living room and grabbing a bowl of cereal to stock up on energy- Lucky Charms, it took forever to remove the cereal and get a bowl of marshmallows these days- he returned to the computer, and stared at the screen. The chat had apparently continued, and broken back down into a fight between Roy and Robin.
You should've just let me call and deliver our emails – RH
He's coming back – RR86
This is weird and creepy. Did you hack his webcam?! You're such a little hack – RH
And you love me for it :3 – RR86
Wally scarfed the cereal down and typed curiously into the chat, How did you get my email?
Please, I hacked your uncle's computer through your very very insecure system – RR86
Batman didn't kill you? Did you get in trouble? – FF
I passed it off as a training exercise in learning about possible opposition in the future. We ate cookies and milk as he told me to stop hacking people without clearance and then lectured me about leaving obvious clues in the system. – RR86
Oh my god. He's raising a weirdo – RH
Whoa! That's so awesome! - FF
You two are the most socially awkward kids that Flash or Batman could find, aren't you? - RH
Aw Roy, he really loves us, doesn't he? (nudges) – RR86
Do all heroes get to learn hacking? - FF
It's a Bat-thing. I learned some, but I'm more of a fan of the art of bombs and artillery – RH
... Roy, this is a public email! - RR86
Are we not supposed to write that sort of stuff? - FF
As if Bird Brain hasn't already secured our server for us to talk freely – RH
You should learn how to hack, or at least how to better protect your computers. This is shameful. It took me forever to secure everything! And it was pathetically easy to get in. Hey, Wally, did you know that your uncle keeps photos of you on his work computer from when you were a kid? – RR86
He does? - FF
Automatically a picture link came up. It was a photo of him from when he was seven, in his aunt's arms, missing two teeth at the Flash museum. He had ice-cream all over his face, and was dressed in a Flash t-shirt and babbling about something to his aunt, who was laughing as she tried to wipe his face. He stared, and then turned bright red as he furiously typed, Okay. I get it.
It's his background photo – RR86
He has that on display at work?! - FF
Yep. Batman has photos of me on his desktop, so it's cool – RR86
The next photo that came up was a bad-ass shot of Robin, arms crossed and standing in a dark alley-way of Gotham. It was most definitely not Robin, as the man in the photo was most likely a model, since he was standing at six feet tall and lacked the chubby, childish features Robin had in the webcam video from the other day. Plus, his suit wasn't a Robin suit, but rather a hoodie and jeans themed in the dark black, red and slight hints of yellow of the Robin costume.
You little shit! That's from that model campaign that was based on Superhero-inspired clothes! Ollie dragged me to that shit to show me the Green Arrow-themed suit (he bought it) and the Speedy themed suit (He tried to buy that) – RH
Ollie has photos of you on his laptop too Roy, no need to be so fussy – RR86
No he doesn't – RH
Yes he does – RR86
Up came a picture of Roy, probably when he and Ollie had been first entering Star after Roy became his ward. Roy was dressed in a leather jacket, and there was a reporter ambushing him. Roy looked horrified, and look to be literally jumping backwards from the mob of reporters as Ollie laughed and caught his arm. Apparently nobody had bothered to warn the fourteen year old. Roy's expression of pure horror was priceless, and Wally giggled at the image.
FUCK YOU – RH
It actually is! - RR86
I changed it after he tried that shit! - RH
He changed it back! - RR86
Fuck him - RH
It's not a bad picture – FF
Fuck you too – RH
Sorry? - FF
Our baby is so socially conscious. Did that picture get spread around your school? - RR86
Don't you dare – RH
I wasn't! - RR86
"Wally! Breakfast is ready and Jay will be here any moment! Are you dressed?!" came his aunt's voice from outside the door, probably assuming he was sleeping in.
"Coming Aunt I!" he called, and turned back to the screen and typed a quick "gtg" and said his goodbyes.
Barry was curious about Wally sleeping in. The boy was always a buzz of energy, up early when he knew Jay was coming, or at least, by nine at the latest. It was already nine-forty, and Wally had yet to leave his room. Chalking it up to a late night, Barry let it go, waiting for the kid as he and Iris unpacked the groceries Jay and Joan brought. After calling the two this morning and relating the majority of their night to the older speedster, Jay delightedly decided to bring something to start Wally's training Dinah suggested.
Jay looked eager and excited. Joan, on the other hand, was grimacing and looked completely unhappy. She had brought three large grocery bags, probably to absorb herself in her kitchen while Jay trained Wally. She tended to do that whenever she got angry with Jay. Barry never liked that look on her face or the grocery bill to increase.
"What are you planning Jay?" asked Iris, looking just as uneasy. Iris was still dressed in her pajamas, having the day off to spend with Wally and the Garricks. She hardly looked pleased at the prospect though, wrapped up in her Barry-eyes blue robe, staring as Jay began to maneuver the furniture around.
"Defense training!" said Jay excitedly, "The motions should help Wally learn to utilize his body and understand it without speed. That way future speed-training will be easier since he'll know his body."
"Defense? Isn't it early?" asked Iris, her voice going an octave higher and her eyes wide, "And in the apartment?"
"It's not early," Jay shrugged, "And the apartment is plenty of space to learn a few punches and holds."
"You're going to throw a hip out trying to act like a young man," muttered Joan, "And injure Wally while you're at it."
Jay through his wife a dirty look, and got an utterly loathing glare in return. Suitably cowed, Jay turned back to the furniture shifting. The couches were shoved to the walls, and piled on top of each other, so that the cushions of each couch were stacked against the other, one couch upside down on the other, slotted together like tetris pieces. The furniture video game continued, to Barry's amusement.
All by himself, Jay moved the living room against one wall, making it seem like an easy task. Maybe if this superhero gig panned out, Barry could work in the moving companies as his second job. Super-speed packing and delivery.
With that silly image in his head, Barry turned to press a kiss to the corner of Iris's mouth.
She barely even registered it. Barry wasn't too hurt by this, after all, because he had ended up pausing mid-kiss to watch Jay roll in a large sandbag.
"He's only twelve still!" said Barry firmly, "Don't hurt him!"
Jay barely registered him, giving a wave of his hand and turning back to the work at hand. It was in this rush of setting up an impromptu fighting gym that Wally surfaced from the guest room. His red hair was sticking out at all ends, and he was carrying an empty bowl of cereal, the bowl one Iris used commonly for salad.
Increase in appetite.
Apparently that was growing as well. Barry eyed Wally cautiously, remembering his own youth. Despite being shuffled through the foster care system as a child, he knew well enough what a teenage boy's appetite could be like, and even controlled portions couldn't stop them. Wally's growing portions at this age just about leveled what Barry had craved as a fifteen year old teenager who liked to play baseball and soccer in the afternoons with the other guys. And Wally was still growing.
"Groceries will skyrocket," murmured Iris affectionately, as Wally handed the bowl off to an already eager Joan, after being caught into her bone-crushing hugs. He was too busy staring at Jay to hear their silent conversation, and letting Joan fuss over his hair.
"That they will," said Barry with a fond smile, "He's growing up."
"Teenagers," said Iris in agreement, and then she suddenly frowned, "I'm not going grey- Am I?"
"What?" asked Barry, taken aback.
"Maybe I should buy some hair dye," she continued on, as though she hadn't just taken Barry by surprise, "Probably should get some for you too. Will dye work in your hair though? It grows so fast, and it would be a waste to dye that hair only to have you shear it off a week later."
"Why are we dying our hair again?" asked Barry dryly, "Last time I checked, we were still young, and your hair is still the same red it was when we met."
"But we have a teenager now," said Iris with a shake of her head, "A superhero teenager. Bad enough I was married to a superhero, now I have a teen one too. I'm going to have twice as many grey hairs!"
"Oh eventually you'll just stop dying it altogether sweetheart," said Joan as she passed by them to wash the bowl in the sink, "And then people will look at you as though you must be ill or dying. Always a tad difficult to explain your husband is a thrill-seeking fool who's too old to understand that he's going to throw his hip out trying to act like a teenage boy again!"
"And Barry will forever be grateful if you don't take that anger out on his precious hairs. He still has a few years before he gets to my state! Don't rush him along!" came Jay's reply from the living room.
"Men his age are getting their knees replaced, hips checked, taking medication in dosages fit to kill a horse," muttered Joan as she ran the bowl under the sink, already moving to clean the other breakfast dishes, and Barry headed beside her, picking the towel to speed-dry as she worked, "And does he listen to me? No, of course not. What husband listens to their wife? Not Jay Garrick. He's far too smart for that."
"I'm sure he can handle Wally and a few punches," said Barry calmly, as Joan gave Jay another worried look, "And Jay's much tougher than most men his age."
"He's already got back problems, and his left knee was never the same after the Fiddler," said Joan stubbornly, "But he just doesn't want to listen to me or his doctors!"
"Well, we're both here to watch them," said Iris reasonably, "What could go wrong?"
"I told you Mr. Garrick! I warned you this would happen!" cawed Joan angrily, as she pressed the ice to his bloody nose.
Jay, for his part, looked appropriately forlorn and chastised, until his wife turned her back, and he winked over at Wally, who struggled to contain his giggles at the couple's behavior. Iris, for her part, was pressing ice to Wally's bruised knuckles. At first, it had been simple, learning to throw a punch (Thumb out, use your hips to get momentum!), dodge a jab (You're fast Wally, anticipate and use minimal energy to move- don't waste time!), and use his speed to calculate the moves Jay tossed at him (You're quick-witted. Let the energy around you dictate the movements of your opponent, tell me where I'm going!). After two complaints from the downstairs neighbors (Are you moving out? No? Then maybe you should consider it with that racket you're making up there!), they decided to move onto bigger and better things.
Which had led to Jay's bloody nose and Wally's smarting and bruised knuckles and fist.
"I'm sorry love," said Jay softly, "It wasn't meant to hurt anyone."
"You're an old fool, Jay Garrick," said Joan sternly, before softening and pressing a hand to his cheek. He turned his head and pressed a kiss to her open palm, barely brushing his lips to tickle the soft and wrinkled skin by his cheek.
"And you love me for it," said Jay, the cheek in his reply hidden by the softness of his tone.
"I'm an idiot," said Joan fondly, turning her back to her husband and now hovering over Wally and Iris as she flapped Iris's hand away to check his knuckles. "And you socked him well Wally. Though I'm worried that he's lost the last of his working and functional common sense!"
"What even happened?" asked Iris, amused and a little worried, as Joan dabbed the purple muscle with the ice pack, clucking her teeth and throwing Jay a dirty look.
"I moved too quickly," said Jay with a grumble, "And the kid moved quicker. Combined momentum caused a crash."
"That explains how you both of you fell backwards," said Joan thoughtfully.
"It was super-cool Auntie Iris!" said Wally eagerly, as he began to explain the story of how he managed to toss the old Flash flat onto his back.
It was a rather simple narration. Wally was practicing how to throw a jab. Jay had been in front of him, using his speed to dodge the blows, but giving Wally a place to aim after the sand-bag had broken during Jay's overeager demonstration. The poor, sand-less thing lay limply in the corner, bleeding out as the boys practiced. Wally, a bit over-enthusiastic himself, and wondered what would happen if he tried the punch using some extra momentum.
Jay broke his nose in the resulting kerfuffle.
"His knuckles are healing already," said Joan, sounding surprised as she lightly padded a thumb over the bruised and damaged knuckles. The redness and swelling had already started to recede. Joan tended over some of the worst injuries in her time, especially during her brief tenure as an army nurse, and she knew that Wally's healing was fast. Faster than Jay's for sure, and possibly even Barry's.
"Must be a Wally-thing," said Jay, already beside her and looking at the knuckles. His bleeding has stopped, and his nose was just waiting to heal already.
"You'll be okay, right Jay?" asked Wally, as both elders exchanged looks and made a mental note about the healing factor.
"Terrific kiddo," said Jay, rubbing a hand through his hair.
Iris watched this from aside, a small frown lingering on her face. She didn't like the idea of Wally-things, or anything that was suspicious in her nephew's behavior. It wasn't right. For all rights and purposes, Wally shouldn't be a mystery to her. Ever. With a sigh, Iris resigned herself to watch and wait.
Barry sighed, as he finally finished the last of the Central City security assignments in one of the empty meeting rooms. The room had a large table, meant for ten or twelve, depending on how the chairs were arranged. A computer screen was open in front of him, sleek and shiny though thinner than the width of Barry's finger. A keyboard was open below his hands, sleek and glowing white light around the keys. It was the only computer open in the room, since Barry was the only one still working.
Ralph was coming up in two days time to start running patrol of Central and memorizing the streets. It was a good thing Jay already knew the place, otherwise he'd have been a little more upset. Despite Ralph and Sue's insistence to stay in a hotel, Iris turned them down and demanded they stay in the spare bedroom. He and Iris would probably let Wally into their room to sleep with Iris on the bed, as Barry was looking to late nights and the sleeping bag wasn't a bad place to be. Besides, he'd rather Ralph be around Iris and Wally in case any early attacks hit from some crazed villain. Always better to be safe than sorry.
Barry hit send as he forwarded the arranged security detail to Ralph as well as the CCPD. Best they could memorize the names and faces that would be taking care of things in Central during the anniversary days for the next week or so. The military was sending in trained agents, and superheroes were starting to shuffle around. It was getting tenser and tenser.
Exhausted, Barry glanced at the clock in the Watchtower. All clocks in the Watchtower were set to GMT, so Barry merely had to subtract a few hours to figure out that it was near midnight back home in Central. He sighed, and stretched, feeling a bit silly to be wearing the spandex on a night when he really wasn't doing anything, but then, that was a part of the job. Even if it was boring.
"Barry?" came a voice from the shadows, and the superhero jumped, turning to glance around the empty staff-room, as the screen to his computer automatically slid back down into the table he'd been sitting at, and the keyboard sank a bit lower, and then a metal plate slid over it. Any signs of the computer were long gone.
Barry turned to stare at the creature of the night, hiding in the shadows. Behind him, the Watchtower was cutting through the vacuum of space, and the moon was glowing in the background. Before him stood the Batman, cape flowing, cowl on, and the black armor of his suit seeming like an impenetrable fortress of the night on the pillar of Gotham himself. Barry always felt that strange inadequacy beside Batman when he stood up. After all, if Batman was a fortress, then Barry was Central's red flag, whipping in the wind, the pride of Central. How could you compare a fortress and a flag?
"Bruce?" asked Barry uncertainly. Usually a late night meeting with Batman before his patrol meant that it was important.
From thin air, it seemed, Batman pulled out a manila folder, tossing it on the table behind Barry. It landed open, revealing several documents. Barry immediately began to sift through them, his eyes glancing curiously at the files on Wally and Jay, shifting through the paper and records.
"Thank you," said Barry finally, as he realized what Bruce had accomplished for him.
"Not even the government will question this," said Bruce with a nod, as Barry reorganized the pages and placed them back into the folder, back in the neat and precise order that Bruce arranged for them.
"All goes well this week, and then everything should be settled," said Barry, relieved as he stared at Bruce through the white of his lens, "Is this why you tracked me down? I mean- I know I asked- but you didn't have to find me right away. I honestly didn't think you'd have time until the anniversary was over!"
"I made time," said Bruce gruffly, his voice dark and unfriendly as always.
"Right," said Barry, still smiling from under his own red cowl, "Well, thanks Batman!"
"Yes, well, Robin has contacted your nephew," said Bruce sternly.
For a minute, Barry's jaw lay slack before Batman. He couldn't quite picture Robin contacting Wally. It wasn't that Barry didn't think they'd get along, no, it was just that Robin never dared to break Batman's rules. At least, not the ones out of Gotham. He had no idea how mischievous the kid was inside Gotham, though it was fairly easy to guess after considering it carefully.
"Have you, er, said anything to him?" asked Barry uneasily, "I mean- I think-
"What you think doesn't matter," said Bruce dismissively, as he gave Barry his most fearful expression, before softening, just enough to look resigned, "I believe they are emailing each other. Alongside Roy. I am monitoring their conversation, it seems harmless. After the anniversary, if neither of us are busy, perhaps we can look into a proper meeting between the two. Robin seems to like your nephew."
"That sounds great!" said Barry, relief flooding his veins. He hardly wanted to go home and tell Wally to stop talking to Robin. Though, he was now starting to worry about what else Wally wasn't telling him. He frowned and turned to look at the moon, wondering when his nephew had started to grow so teenager-ish, he heard the swoosh of a cape.
Batman was gone.
Well then, time to call it a night.