A/N: Warnings for discussion and recollection of the sexual assault of minors, thoughts of self-harm, panic reactions, vomiting.
Chapter 29: Ducks
Dick woke on Wally's chest come morning, his boyfriend's fingers trickling through his hair.
"'Morning babe." Wally's voice was gravelly from sleep. Dick couldn't suppress a grin. "Sleep well?"
"Mm-hm." Dick closed his eyes, not quite ready to get up yet. He was happy here.
Wally stroked down Dick's neck to his shoulderblade, his palm settling there. "No dreams?"
"None."
"Awesome." Wally's free arm wrapped securely around Dick's waist. "Hungry?"
"Not really. You?"
"I can wait. It's cuddle time."
"You're such a dork."
"Takes one to know one."
"True." Dick sat up a little, hands splayed on Wally's chest. "How's my breath?" He blew a gust towards Wally's face.
"Terrible." Wally blew one back. "How's mine?"
"Also terrible." Dick leaned down and planted a kiss on his lips. "So I guess we're even."
Wally smirked up at him. "Hm, I don't know. Better kiss me again, just to make sure."
"If you insist." Dick caught his lips again. Wally squeezed him in close, deepening the kiss. A shudder of glee rippled through Dick's body and he grabbed fistfuls of Wally's shirt. The kiss went on, and Dick couldn't remember the last time they'd been together like this. Sure, it was a little bit gross since they'd just woken up and both had morning breath, but it certainly wasn't the grossest thing Dick had willingly done. And the closeness was worth it.
They broke the kiss, trying not to breathe on each other too much. Dick lost track of how long they watched each other. Wally had a half-completed grin on his face, like he'd forgotten how to move his face. Dick slowly let go of Wally's shirt, smoothing out the wrinkles without looking at them. The morning light filtered through the window, catching in the green of Wally's eyes, sparkling like dew-kissed leaves. Wally blinked. Once. Twice. Then he completed the grin, and Dick returned it.
Then Wally sat up, gently shifting Dick to the side. "Okay, definitely hungry now."
Dick snorted. "Way to kill the mood."
Wally threw the bedcovers back, leaving the pair exposed to the cold air. "That's what I'm here for, babe." He got out of bed and stepped into his slippers.
Dick pulled the covers back over himself. "Ugh, throw me a sweater. It's freezing." Wally dropped one on his face. "Thanks."
"You're such a baby in the morning."
Dick pulled on the sweater and rolled out of bed, landing on his feet without effort. "Isn't that why you call me 'babe' all the time?"
"It is now."
They headed down the hallway and had almost reached the kitchen when Dick heard Barry talking.
"Nah, he's been fine," said Barry. Dick pulled Wally to a halt just around the corner. "Really cheerful, actually. If I didn't already know, I never would've guessed he'd tried to kill himself a week ago. Yeah, Wally'll keep an eye on him and I'll drop by at lunch. Honestly, I don't think we've got much to worry about. He even cracked a joke about getting, uh, blown up last night. I didn't know what to do, but he seemed to enjoy himself so I guess it was okay."
Dick chose that moment to come around the corner. "'Morning, Barry."
Barry covered the mouthpiece of the landline phone. "Hey, kid. Sleep well?"
"Like a log," Dick replied brightly. "If logs slept."
"Oh, here we go," Wally muttered. "I'm not sure I missed you unique command of the English language."
"Of course you did."
Barry chose to ignore the exchange, holding the phone out. "Bruce wants to talk to you."
"Thanks." Dick took the phone. Wally filled up a plate with bacon and eggs. It didn't look especially appetising to Dick, but he supposed he could have a few bites and then maybe have some of the Crocky Crunch cereal he could see in the cupboard. He hadn't had that stuff in years, not since Bruce and Alfred had collectively put their foot down and removed all traces of it from the house. It was nothing but sugar and happiness, so of course Bruce in particular couldn't stand it.
"How are you today?" came Bruce's voice over the fine.
"Cold, but otherwise peachy," Dick replied. "You?"
Bruce's voice filled with amusement. "I'm well. How'd you sleep?"
"Nightmare-free. It was exciting. Except not. Because I was asleep and didn't realise it was something to be excited about until I woke up this morning."
Wally choked on a mouthful of water. Barry thumped him on the back.
"Oops," Dick said. "Nearly killed Wally."
Bruce sighed, just like Alfred did. Well, the man had raised him.
"So, what's new?" Dick asked. "How's everyone at home?"
"Alfred's the way he always is," Bruce replied. "Jason is quiet."
"That's pretty much his natural state at the moment." It wasn't good. If Dick didn't have his own problems, he probably would've tried doing something about it himself. After their last conversation about it all, though, he wasn't keen to try again.
"I know. He wasn't interested in talking yesterday, but I'll try again today. Wish me luck."
"Good luck. You'll need it." Maybe Jason would be more willing to open up without Dick around? He doubted it. But there was always a chance.
"Thanks. Did you watch the news last night?"
Dick came very close to snapping at him, but he took a deep breath and swallowed it down. "Bruce. You know I've been avoiding that crap for very obvious reasons."
Wally frowned at the phone. "Is he talking shit again?"
"No, he just asked a question," Dick replied, covering the mouthpiece. "A question he should know the answer to, but whatever." He spoke into the phone again, "Why'd you ask anyway?"
"There's been a development in the case." Bruce didn't sound all that happy about it.
What was left of Dick's good mood melted away. "All right." He sighed. "Lay it on me."
"Commissioner Gordon has been accused of corruption," Bruce said plainly. "The evidence supposedly came from the files we decoded, but I know those files inside-out. There's nothing in there to suggest the Commissioner was involved in allowing the court case to fail. Someone along the chain of evidence falsified the information."
"So Skinner's got friends in the police department. Wonderful." How many of the officers who took part in the rescue had been in that man's pocket the whole time? Dick had trusted everyone there, but now the thought of what could've happened to him and the other children sent a chill down his spine.
"Let me deal with that," Bruce said. "I've been talking with Barbara. She wants to organise a rally to support him. She's already got the Commissioner's most trusted officers on board. I'm sure they'd appreciate your presence if you feel up to attending."
"I'll manage," Dick replied. "Gordon's not going down over this if I can help it."
"Dick, I'll take care of it. You just need to take care of yourself."
"I'm not made of glass, Bruce."
"I know. You've shown remarkable strength so far."
Dick snorted, because if he didn't laugh he'd probably start crying instead. "That's cute."
He could feel Bruce's glare through the phone.
"Yeah, yeah. You were trying to be nice. I get it. Can we stop talking about this before the knives start looking too friendly again?"
Bruce's voice filled with alarm. "Are you all right?"
Dick pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut. "I think so. I just... can't talk about this anymore. Let me know when there's a date for the rally."
"Make sure someone's with you all day."
"Now where's the fun in that?"
"Dick."
He rolled his eyes. "I was joking. Now go do something. One of us has to be useful today, and it's not going to be me."
"I'll call tonight."
"You do that. Bye." Dick passed the phone back to Barry, who hung up after a brief conversation Dick didn't listen to. He poured himself a bowl of the Crocky Crunch cereal. It was even more sugary than he remembered. He braced himself for the customary nausea that came whenever he had more than a few bites of anything, but it never showed.
Wally finished eating and cleared his cutlery away immediately, not that the little knife he'd been using would've done much if Dick had wanted to hurt himself. The thought was still appreciated.
"So, what happened?" Wally asked, rinsing the knife off in the sink and putting it away.
Dick finished his last mouthful of cereal and pushed the bowl away. "Someone in the GCPD messed with that jury-tampering data to incriminate Gordon. I don't know the details. Honestly, I don't want to know." His temples were starting to throb; he pressed his fingers against them. "It's bad enough knowing Skinner's got friends in the GCPD."
Wally put a glass of water down in front of him. "Drink."
Dick took a few sips, but he was starting to feel ill.
"I can call in sick to work if you need someone else around," Barry offered.
"God, no," Dick replied.
"We've got other people we can call," Wally added. He rested his palm on Dick's back. "Dinah and Alfred should be available, and probably Bruce if it comes to that."
Barry looked pained. "Yeah, I don't feel comfortable with this."
"Bruce knows you're going to work," Dick said. "He would've said something if he wasn't okay with that."
"Exactly how long were you eavesdropping?"
"Not long." Dick shrugged. "I got curious."
Barry sighed. "Sometimes I forget you're Batman's kid." He grabbed a piece of bacon from the plate on the centre of the table. "All right. You've made your point. I'll be back for lunch. Don't burn the house down."
"No promises," Wally replied. "Have fun."
Barry ruffled both boys' hair on his way out.
Wally brushed his thumb against the back of Dick's neck. "I thought he'd never leave. You okay after eating that much?"
"Yeah, actually." Nobody was more surprised by that than Dick. "It's weird."
"Please don't start bouncing off the walls. I'm pretty sure that stuff should be considered a biohazard."
Dick snorted. "Wow. I don't think I've ever heard you complain about food having too much sugar before."
"I've seen what happens when you have too much sugar, babe. I don't want to repeat the experience."
"That was one time. And I was eleven. And it was your fault in the first place."
"Was not!"
"Bruce banned you from the manor for a month," Dick reminded him. "And Alfred wouldn't give me candy again for at least two."
"Well, it is kind of your fault for thinking you could out-snack me."
"You let the eleven-year-old consume his weight in sugar, dude. Neither of us came out of that one looking pretty."
"Excuse you," Wally said with mock offense. "I always look pretty."
"Now that you're past the awkward puberty phase, you mean."
"And you're still in it, so ha."
"Yeah, but the awkward puberty look is adorable on me."
"All right, I can't argue with that." Wally pinched his cheek. Dick half-heartedly swatted at him. "What do you want to do now?"
"I don't know. Maybe rest for a bit. I'm still a bit... you know. From earlier." He wasn't feeling too bad overall, but he could feel the darkness sitting in the back of his mind, ready to roll back in at any moment. He was right on the borderline between 'okay' and 'really super not okay'.
"Okay." Wally helped him up. "Couch or bed?"
"Bed." The front door would freak him out too much when he was trying to rest. Wally led him back to his room and very charitably let Dick lie on top of him again, draping his arms around the younger boy's waist. Dick didn't quite feel like sleeping, having only just woken up a short while ago. He just needed to recharge after Bruce's news. Then he'd be okay. Probably.
"You should stop growing," Wally said out of the blue.
Dick snorted. "No."
"You're gonna get too heavy to lie on me like this, and then we'll both be sad."
"A small price to pay for getting taken more seriously in life, I guess." Dick wriggled into a more comfortable position, accidentally jamming a knee into Wally's thigh. "Oops. Sorry. But look at me. Criminals laugh at me. It's rude."
"Maybe it's just revenge for all the times you laughed at them."
"I wouldn't have laughed if they weren't all so ridiculous."
"Yeah, Gotham rogues are pretty ridiculous. What the hell is up with that place? Like, you have a villain called the Condiment King who literally attacks people with sauce. Is there something in the water? Shit, there probably is."
"Hey, don't insult my home. Gotham might be a corrupt shithole of a city, but it's my corrupt shithole of a city."
"I don't know if that's funny or sad."
"Ass," Dick muttered fondly.
"Maybe I am, but you still live in the worst city in America."
"Well, apparently people from Central City don't have any manners, but you don't hear me going on about it."
"I'm gonna need some ice for that burn, babe. And my leg's falling asleep."
Dick rolled off him and the bed, landing on his feet. He didn't really want to keep lying down anyway. He wanted to do stuff. He just wasn't sure what that stuff was yet.
Wally sat up, stretching out his leg. "That better not be the sugar rush kicking in."
"I don't know. I'm bored."
"Oh, Christ. Here we go."
"Wally, you're underestimating me. Come on, dude. I'm not eleven anymore." His attention flicked away from his mild offense. "We should do something."
"Nothing that would give Bruce a heart attack," Wally warned. "Even if it was your idea, he'd still blame me."
"We should go outside."
"Bruce is gonna stab me."
"It's not Gotham, and barely anyone knows I'm here." Dick stepped into his shoes. "I haven't been outside just because I want to in a long time. It's so green out there. Have you ever noticed how green this city is? It's weird."
"You're just used to Gotham, babe." Wally begrudgingly got up and found his own pair of shoes. "There's a park a few blocks away if you really want to go out. But I'm telling Barry and you get to tell Bruce."
"Okay." Dick grabbed his phone off the bedside table and shot off a text. Wally took his sweet time doing the same.
Bruce texted back that he'd let them go, provided Dick kept him updated on an hourly basis until they returned. It was a fair request, if a touch stifling.
"Bruce is freaking out but he said we could go," Dick told Wally.
"Barry's freaking out that Bruce is gonna freak out," Wally replied, sending off another text. "He'll calm down now that Bruce gave the okay."
"Sweet. Let's go." Dick dragged Wally out of the room.
Wally laughed at his behaviour. "This is so weird."
Dick grabbed the spare house keys from the hook beside the front door and stepped outside, locking the door behind the both of them. Wally took the keys and stuffed them into his pocket.
Dick didn't feel all that different until they'd walked down the street and around the corner, the house vanishing from sight. Then, a new feeling hit him, like he was a helium balloon set free into the sky with no hand to stop him from floating away. He had to stop. Take a few deep breaths.
"We can go back," Wally offered.
"I'm okay. It's just weird." Dick reached for Wally's hand again. He could do this. They weren't in Gotham anymore. Crime did happen here, but it didn't have Gotham's mean streak.
Wally squeezed his hand, smiling gently down at him. "Ready?"
"Yeah. Come on."
They walked the remaining few blocks to the park. Children's laughter rippled through the air as the swingset in the playground squeaked back and forth. Dick had fond memories of flipping off a swing at the apex of its rotation and scaring the shit out of Alfred, who had yet to get used to having a tiny acrobat in the family.
They passed the playground, full of children, the little ones watched closely by their parents while the older ones played more freely as their parents chatted calmly on the park benches. No one spared Dick and Wally more than a passing glance.
"Did you want to see the duck pond?" Wally asked. "I should have some money for the birdseed machine." He dug into his pockets while they headed for the pond, producing a handful of coins by the time they got there.
Dick knelt by the water, cold seeping through the knees of his jeans. A few ducks paddled around in the water, some trailed by a line of ducklings. He started a little when Wally put a bag of seed in front of his face, but recovered quickly and took the bag. Wally didn't comment on it.
Dick sprinkled some of the seed and backed up to a respectful distance. A few ducks near the edge of the water waddled over to inspect his offering. Apparently satisfied, they started to snatch up the scattered seed, and Dick tossed a little more in their direction. He sat on the grass with Wally, leaning into his shoulder.
The noise from the playground was barely audible now, easily overpowered by the gentle splashes of ducks hopping in and out of the water, ducking their heads below the surface. One of the mother ducks came over for some seed, her babies trailing behind her. Dick tossed a little more in her direction, trying not to startle her. She left quickly after getting her fill, which was probably smart of her. Humans didn't exactly have the best track record when it came to nature, which Poison Ivy was more than willing to remind people.
The birdseed slowly dwindled as ducks came and went. Neither of the boys felt like moving. Dick felt calmer than he expected when he'd left the house today. He could barely recognise himself. And all it took was a duck pond and some birdseed. And Wally, of course, but that went without saying.
After a while, Wally's phone went off and he scrambled to answer it before the ducks decided to fly away. "Yeah, Barry? We're still at the park. The duck pond. Okay, I'll ask." Wally covered the phone. "Barry's about to head out for lunch. He said he could get some fish and chips and bring it here."
"Sure. Make sure he doesn't get me too much, though."
"Fish and chips are a go," Wally said into the phone. "Get enough for you and me, and maybe some extra chips. Even if Dick doesn't eat them, one of us will. Okay. See you in a few. Bye." He hung up. "Wanna go find a table?"
"Not really." Dick didn't feel like leaving the ducks yet. "Five more minutes?"
"Okay." Wally's hand was starting to get cold, but it felt warm clasped around Dick's icy one. He'd forgotten to pack gloves, and Wally hadn't thought to bring any of his own, either.
The five minutes passed and the pair slowly picked themselves up off the grass, brushing themselves free of lingering foliage. Their fingers came away wet and littered with plantlife.
As they headed for the nearest set of picnic tables, a small, snowy fluff-ball of a dog came barrelling towards them. Dick knelt down and scratched it behind the ears.
"Hey, buddy," he said brightly. "Where's your owner?"
The dog licked his fingers in response. A child's voice cut through the ear, and the dog's ears twitched.
"That's them, isn't it?" said Dick. "You got cheeky and escaped, didn't you?"
The kid in question came running over. "Snowball!"
Snowball yapped happily at the kid and scampered over to her. They both ran off, the kid waving her thanks.
Wally snorted. "Snowball."
"Love it."
They found the tables and claimed one on the outskirts of the picnic area. They didn't have to wait long for Barry to show up, arms full of pale paper packages.
"My two favourite troublemakers," Barry said, dumping the packages on the table. "Dig in. Try to leave some for me."
"No promises," Wally said, ripping open the paper. He and Barry gobbled up most of the food. Dick snagged a few chips and a bite of Wally's fish, but he wasn't very hungry.
"So what'd you two get up to after I left you alone against my better judgement?"
"Dick wanted to rest but ended up talking my ear off the whole time," Wally replied. "And then we came here and fed ducks. Oh, and we made friends with a dog called Snowball."
"What's this 'we' business?" Dick replied, shoving a chip into Wally's mouth. "You just stood there while I gave Snowball the attention he obviously deserved. Then you made fun of his name."
"You two seemed pretty happy together. I didn't want to intrude."
"Oh, be still my beating heart." Dick ate one last chip before giving up on the idea of lunch. "Or maybe not. That'd be bad."
Wally stuffed the rest of his fish into his mouth instead of trying to come up with a response. Barry shrugged and did the same. Mouth still full, he checked his phone and rolled his eyes.
He swallowed. "Bruce is pestering me for an update on you."
"I just texted him to let him know I'm still alive," Dick replied.
"Yeah, he said that." Barry scrolled the phone screen with his thumb. "He wants to know how you're holding up."
"I'm good. Really calm, actually. We should've tried duck-feeding therapy sooner."
"Okay." Barry punched in a message and sent it off.
"He's probably gonna try putting a duck pond on the manor grounds," Wally said. "And then he'll be offended no ducks want to live there."
"Maybe I'll ask for a puppy instead, just to see the look on his face."
"If you tell him you want to train it as a service animal for your PTSD, he'd probably cave," Wally said.
"Somebody's been doing their research."
Wally shrugged. "I was looking up ways to help you out. You know what the internet's like."
"Yeah, you fell down the rabbit hole. With no influence from the Mad Hatter, fortunately." Dick wiped his fingers on a napkin Barry had brought. "It's a nice idea, but being responsible for another living thing would probably stress me out too much at this point."
"Totally understandable."
"But thanks for thinking of me."
"Always am," Wally said flippantly, but Dick didn't miss the intensity in his eyes. He probably wouldn't have bothered hiding it at all if they'd been alone.
Dick lightly punched his shoulder. "Softy."
Barry hummed loudly and fiddled with his phone until the moment had passed. He and Wally polished off the food and tossed the wrappers away.
"I better get back to work," Barry said. "Are you two okay by yourselves?"
Both boys nodded.
"Okay. Don't stay out too late. Bruce'll hunt me down if I let you two stay out after dark."
"We'll be home soon, I think," Wally replied.
"Yeah, my nose is gonna freeze off if we're out here much longer," Dick added. "See you tonight."
"All right. See ya." Barry headed off.
"Did you want to stick around?" Wally asked Dick.
"No, I'm ready to go."
"Okay, then. Let's go home."
They walked back to Barry and Iris's house hand-in-hand. Dick occasionally startled at sudden noises like he usually did, but he calmed down quicker afterwards. He still watched the people they passed, but he didn't feel like he had to scan their faces for defining features and try to match them up with the countless clients in the child trafficking operation. That said, though, he was relieved when they finally stepped inside and Wally switched on the heater.
The living room warmed up first. The pair huddled under a blanket on the couch, cartoon reruns playing on the TV in the background. The boys were joined by the lips, eyes closed, ignoring everything outside their own little sphere of each other. They slowly lay against the couch, Wally on his back and Dick resting on top of him. Wally's fingers tickled against Dick's ribs.
They were pressed right up against each other, tongues sliding together, and despite everything, Dick felt his body start to respond. And he didn't know what to do about that. He hadn't felt any kind of urges like that for a long time. Even before his abduction, the feelings had been limited, and recent events had chased away what little desire he had been experiencing up to that point.
His brain took a few moments to register what was happening. As soon as it hit him, he charged backwards and slammed none too gently against the arm of the couch.
Wally sat up. "What's up? You okay?"
Dick could barely move, let alone speak. He was still semi-covered by the blanket, at least.
Wally figured it all out pretty quickly, despite Dick not being able to help him. "Oh. Okay. I'm gonna get some water. I'll be back in a minute." He hopped off the couch and went into the kitchen.
Dick's body uncoiled from its tense position in the corner of the couch. He took the out Wally had offered him to escape to the bathroom and splash half a dozen handfuls of frigid water across his face. It clung to the edges of his hair, dripped off his nose and chin. A sick feeling was gathering in the pit of his stomach. Nausea quickly followed, and he threw up into the sink. He held himself up on trembling arms, knuckles stretched and white against the porcelain.
Luke was there. In his mind. He didn't want him there. He was supposed to be safe in this place. He was supposed to be free from Luke and Skinner and everyone else. But he wasn't. He could almost feel Luke's hands on him, coaxing unwanted feelings out of his body.
Dick threw up again, every muscle in his abdomen contracting painfully. He retched another time, but there was only liquid left.
There was a soft knock on the door. "Dick? You okay in there?"
Dick ran the tap to rinse away the vomit. He didn't know if he could talk yet. As much as he didn't want to move, he approached the door and tapped out a morse code request for privacy against the wood. He needed more time.
"I'll be nearby," Wally said through the door. Fading footsteps followed. Dick sank to the floor. His wrists screamed out for something sharp. He didn't want to give in. He knew there was nothing sharp in the room, for precisely this reason. But he couldn't help but stare up at the mirror. He knew exactly how much force it would take to break it, force which would bust his knuckles open as the mirror shattered. He couldn't do that. He couldn't. This wasn't his house. He was a guest here. He couldn't wreck their furniture just because he couldn't control himself.
He wasn't ready to be near anyone, but he couldn't be alone right now either. Not with the mirror staring at him like that.
Still queasy, he pulled himself to his feet by the doorknob and staggered out of the bathroom. Wally was leaning against his bedroom's doorframe nearby.
"Are you feeling better?" he asked.
Dick shook his head, one hand resting on his stomach. He needed to explain, but talking didn't seem like such a good idea with the acid sitting high in his throat.
Wally brought him back to the living room, hovering close but not touching. Dick couldn't handle touching yet.
"Do you want the blanket?" Wally asked. "I can get rid of it if it's gonna bother you."
It was just a blanket. Dick pinched it between two fingers. Just a blanket. Just a piece of material designed to keep people warm. He sat down on the couch and wrapped it around himself. Wally, careful not to touch him directly, tidied it a little.
"I'll get you some water." He was in and out of the kitchen in seconds. The water cleared the bad taste from Dick's mouth, but not completely. He curled up around a previously discarded throw pillow while Wally found something to watch other than the cartoons that had been playing in the background of this entire fiasco. He found a documentary about space that was practically guaranteed to be free of anything that could make Dick feel worse than he already did. Dick didn't follow the information presented in the show very well, but the images were comforting to look at. Galactic swirls streaking through black. Plumes of nebulas nestled in interstellar mist. Even the asteroids—little more than enormous rocks floating in the abyss—soothed something inside him.
Despite humanity's endless curiosity about the places beyond the earth's atmosphere, sheer distance and current levels of technology meant most of those places remained untouched by human hands. There were whole worlds out there that had never been spoiled by humanity's endless capacity for destruction, for violence.
Everything around Dick was poisoned by what Skinner and his people had done to him, even this far away from Gotham City. He couldn't escape it. But the thought that there were places where maybe this thing tethering Dick to them could snap and fall away... it helped, if only a little.
Wally was quiet until the end of the documentary. He picked up the remote, but didn't use it.
"Hey," he said. "Do you feel up to talking about what happened?"
"I thought it was self-explanatory," Dick replied. He didn't know if he could find the words to explain it if Wally hadn't already figured it out.
"Yeah, it was." Wally muted the TV. "If you don't want to talk about it, that's okay. Just thought I'd ask."
Dick was still a bit wound up, but the documentary had help him calm down the tiniest bit. Maybe it was enough.
"You know," he said slowly, "I haven't felt really any, uh... shit. Okay. Words."
"You're doing fine," Wally reassured him. "Take your time."
Dick dug the words out of his brain. "So, I like you, right?"
"I'm aware," Wally said lightly.
"Okay, so like, I've had crushes on people before. No stranger to that. But I've never really felt, you know, the physical stuff." This was weird to talk about. "Maybe it's because I died and came back at an age when a lot of those feelings are developing. Or because of what Skinner and his asshole friends did not long after that. Maybe I'm a late bloomer. Or it's just who I am. I don't know."
"Some people are just like that," Wally replied. "There's even a word for people who only feel sexual attraction to people they've developed a close bond with."
"Yeah, demisexual. I just don't know if it fits me." It didn't quite click with him the way 'pansexual' had when he'd found that word. It was possible to have a different romantic orientation, so he could've been both demisexual and panromantic, but it didn't feel quite right. "I mean, Zatanna and I were together for a while and nothing sexual really developed between us but I don't know if it was because we were thirteen or because we needed more time or because that's just the way things were between us. Or whatever. Maybe it would've happened if we'd stayed together longer, but I can't say for sure."
"But you're feeling that with me?" Wally asked.
Dick nodded. "It's been in the back of my head for a while. And like, I experimented a little by myself before the whole dying thing, but I haven't really been interested in it since."
"Fair enough."
Dick rested his head on the throw pillow. Wally winced at the level of his contortion, but he found it pretty comfortable.
"The last time I had a physical reaction like today was with somebody I didn't want touching me," he said quietly.
"Luke," Wally muttered.
"I don't know how to get past that."
"There's no rush," Wally assured him. "Plenty of people in relationships don't have sex."
"Sure, but that's their choice." Dick buried his face in the pillow. "I didn't choose to be like this. I freak out every time we even get remotely sexual. I'm tired of everything I do or feel being dictated by those bastards."
"I know, babe."
"This is my body. Mine. I've trained to control even the tiniest movements and reactions. I should've been able to stop it from—"
Wally held up his hands. "Whoa, whoa. Slow down."
"It's just—this shouldn't be a fucking issue."
"Yeah, because you never should've been put in that position to start with," Wally replied heatedly. "But it happened. It's not your fault. You'd be saying the same thing to me if our positions were reversed."
"Yeah, I know." This pillow was nice. He was going to keep his face pressed into it for now. "But I... I don't like thinking there's nothing I could've done to stop this. I don't like feeling helpless." Everyone around him was constantly telling him none of this was his fault. It was comforting at first, but he inevitably slid backwards when the conversation was over. The choice between pretending he had some agency in this situation or accepting his own helplessness was not an easy one. Sometimes feigning ignorance was preferable to the harsh reality.
"I don't blame you," Wally replied. "But, look. How many times have you pulled Batman's ass out of the fire? The guy's a certified badass, but even he needs a helping hand from time-to-time. So you couldn't take Skinner's organisation down by yourself. Who could? You did everything in your power to keep yourself and the others safe. I know you didn't do as much as you wanted, but that doesn't make you any less of a badass."
Dick rolled onto his back, freeing his legs from the blanket and resting them on Wally's lap. "I appreciate what you're trying to do."
"But?"
"I'm struggling with this," Dick admitted. "I don't like losing control of things. Does blaming myself hurt? Yes. It fucking kills me sometimes. But the alternative isn't any better."
"And what's the alternative?"
"Accepting I have no control over what was done to me, what was done to the other kids, or even how my body and mind react now that I'm away from it." Dick watched a small spider scurry across the ceiling; it was easier than making eye contact.
"At least it's honest," Wally replied.
"Honesty's overrated."
"Careful, babe. You'll hurt its feelings."
Despite his dark mood, Dick laughed a little. "Sorry, honesty."
"That's better." Wally patted his foot. Dick didn't mind the contact; he had initiated it when he'd stuck his feet in Wally's lap. "There are things you can control, though."
"Such as...?"
"Where you sleep. Whether you're going to that rally for Commissioner Gordon. Whether you'll testify at the new trial when we finally get one. What to do for your birthday. Whether you want to listen to me or tell me to piss off. Loads of stuff."
"Little things," Dick muttered.
"Little things can add up, babe."
"I don't know if I can do this." It hadn't always been clear to him why he couldn't fully accept everyone telling him he wasn't to blame for anything that had happened, but he got it now. It was just another in a long list of things he had done in an attempt to regain some control over the situation, over himself. He didn't know how to break that pattern, or if he even wanted to.
"You're acknowledging it," Wally said gently. "That's a good start. Take as much time as you need to do the rest. You've got some good people in your corner. We're all gonna do everything we can to help you."
That was comforting. Dick managed to smile a little up at him. "I love you, Wally."
"I love you, too." Wally's eyes were soft. "I'm here for you. Whatever you need."
Dick didn't know what he'd done to deserve him, but it must've been freaking amazing. The stress was still there, tying knots in his stomach, but he felt better. Maybe one day he could recover from this. That day was a long way off, but it could come. He just needed to remember that on the bad days.
"You'll get through this," Wally promised. "I'll keep reminding you it's not your fault. It'll sink in eventually. And, well, as for the sex thing... no pressure. You'll be ready when you're ready. You don't need to justify that or push yourself further than you're comfortable with."
"Thank you."
The worst was over for today. Dick expected a heavy serving of nightmares later, which wasn't all that different from normal. He'd deal with it. He felt much better-equipped to handle all the bad thoughts that regularly took up residence in his head. Being here was good for him. He only hoped going back to Gotham for the weekdays wouldn't set him back again.
