(Very mild language in this chapter from our foul-mouthed speedster)
An Identity is Revealed
Wally had just stuffed another handful of fries into his mouth when they arrived outside their ramshackle apartment complex.
After Nightwing and M'gann's…whatever that was, the young heroes had taken a few minutes to regroup before going back down to Sniper's hospital room.
The hitman had still been unconscious—likely spent after Nightwing's interrogation—so the team hadn't worried about exposing their identities while taking turns changing out of their costumes behind a curtain.
M'gann had morphed her suit into light pants and a blouse before changing her colouring to a pale peach, the skin around her eye beginning to swell where Nightwing had nailed her.
Not only did it look painful, it was also making Conner even more difficult to be around than usual. He kept rifling through Sniper's room, muttering about finding an icepack and knocking a certain blue-black colour schemed vigilante's brains out.
He wasn't happy, to say the least.
Once they looked like a group of normal college students again, they'd exited the hospital after contacting Griffins. Who, despite the late hour, had agreed to find someone to sub in for their Sniper guard duties.
Using the bioship was out of the question, given M'gann's recent unconsciousness, so they hailed a taxi, cramming inside while the cabbie glared sullenly at them.
Conner kept hovering over her during the ride, insisting that they stop and get her something to drink. Which had then turned into getting her something to eat.
Which had then turned into a full fledged late-night fast-food run while M'gann waited for them in the taxi, having made it her personal mission to lift their cabbie's gloomy spirits.
And now here they were, standing outside their apartment and trying to determine who'd remembered the complex key.
"I thought Kaldur grabbed it," Artemis said, leaning against Wally and snatching some fries while he was distracted by her close proximity.
"Hey," He murmured weakly, but the conversation had already moved on.
"And I was under the impression you had grabbed them." Kaldur slurped his water through a plastic straw, which Wally felt like shouldn't be allowed.
What ever happened to saving the turtles? Shouldn't an Atlantean of all things be a little more concerned?
Kaldur narrowed his eyes at Wally, like he'd just read the speester's mind, and slurped harder.
"M'gann didn't grab them," Conner had an arm around his oddly silent girlfriend. It looked like he was bodily keeping her from keeling over. "Last I saw it, the key card was in Kaldur's hand."
Kaldur shook his head. "I gave it to Artemis."
Artemis turned, stealing another fry and pointing it at Wally accusingly. "I gave it to you."
Oh. Right.
She had given him it earlier.
In his defense, Wally's brain turned to mush whenever she was nearby. She was just so…distracting.
Wally nodded, pulling the key card out of his pocket and holding it up between his fingers. "Yeah, I got it right here."
Conner growled at him, sounding like some kind of M'gann centric beast. "And you didn't think to tell us earlier?"
"Honestly?" He pretended to ponder it. "No."
The clone made an unintelligible grunting noise and stalked toward him.
Wally very dignifiedly took cover behind Artemis. "Save me, babe."
She muttered under her breath at him and rolled her eyes but didn't otherwise comment, crossing her arms and stoically keeping Conner off. Wally decided to take that as a win.
"It's alright, Conner. We're all a little on-edge after earlier." M'gann patted Conner's arm consolingly, then used her telekinesis to float the key card out of Wally's grip and into Kaldur's hand.
The Atlantean clenched his fist around the card and shot Wally one of his best I'm-Not-Mad-Just-Disappointed faces.
Wally swallowed. He'd definitely be getting a talking-to later.
The Martian was right, however. They were all a bit out of it after earlier, when M'gann had gotten punched in the face, told them Nightwing used to be Robin, then promptly passed out.
It was like Hey, here's a bombshell. Bye! Then, when she had regained consciousness a few moments later, she'd insisted on not telling them anything until they reached a more secure location.
Which, made sense, but was still incredibly frustrating. Wally was nothing if not a curious creature, and no one knew anything about Robin. Just that he dressed like a traffic light and used to work with Batman.
So, yeah, sue him; Wally was curious.
Fortunately, M'gann had decided their rundown apartment building—which walls were probably held together by germs, hope, and rat poison—served as a secure location.
Honestly, if they learned the dumpy looking building was leaking radioactive fumes and slowly killing them all, it would be the least surprising fact of the day.
The key card let them in and they sullenly made their way up the stairs, not trusting the creaky elevator to hold their weight (especially Conner's—the guy was built like a brick house on top of a brick house on top of the Empire State Building).
The hallway to their room was empty, unless you counted the various pieces of trash lying around. And…was that an old lady lying on the floor? Oh, God. Was she even alive?
Wally shuddered.
They crowded around the boys' door, waiting silently as Kaldur figured out which way the key card slotted in.
The old lady twitched, which Wally chose to interpret as a sign of life. Then she opened an eye and winked at him.
He ducked behind Artemis again, ignoring the smugly amused look she shot him.
This place was disgusting.
After a few unsuccessful attempts, the Atlantean (finally) figured it out and the door squealed open on its hinges. The room inside was dark, the kitchenette and attached sitting area looking especially drab in the blackness.
M'gann was the first to step over the threshold, snapping on the lights and heading immediately towards the kitchenette.
Conner followed behind her, his hands never straying from her shoulders as M'gann told him what she needed.
"Can you grab that pan? And the eggs, please. I'm making omelettes."
The clone nodded eagerly and hopped to it, his clumsy hands producing much more noise than was likely necessary.
The speedster couldn't help but smile as he watched them, reminded of when the two had first tried to cook together and M'gann had splattered Conner with flour in her excitement.
Good times, good times.
It reminded him of the Cave, a slight pang of homesickness welling up in his stomach. Happy Harbour wasn't even his actual home, but he still found himself missing it on long away-missions.
Artemis hopped up onto the counter so she could watch, Aqualad shooting her a look before sighing and tromping towards the room's single bathroom. He looked tired and Wally honestly couldn't blame him.
Being their leader was a handful, to say the least.
The speedster filled a mug with cold coffee, stirring the dark liquid absently with a bent spoon before taking a sip. It tasted like crap, but caffeine was caffeine.
Wally grunted in response to M'gann's soft "You okay, Wally?" and made his way toward the living area, already eyeing one of their apartment's cozier couches. His feet were killing him.
Artemis asked their Martian chef something about vigilantes, but Wally tuned it out. He stood in front of the couch, fishing around for one of the lamp switches and cursing the darkness.
It was practically black. The kitchenette fixtures were too dim for any of their glow to spill out into the adjacent sitting area.
And the window was wide open, the night breeze trailing cold fingers down his back. Who left the window open? It was freezing in here.
He stubbornly clamped his teeth together to keep them from chattering.
Finally, he managed to pull the string, grinning as light filled the room. It was a soft, yellow incandescence, barely illuminating the threadbare couches, cracked television glass, and sprawled out Nightwing in their living room.
Wait.
What.
Wally did a double take, the mug slipping from his grasp and shattering across the floor, cold liquid clinging to his pants.
But he paid it no heed.
Because Nightwing, the vigilante they'd been sent here to find, the one that'd been eluding them until that very moment, was sitting on their couch.
"Holy shit," Wally cried, tumbling backward over one of the love seats in his haste to get away. "Holy fu—"
"What's wrong?" Artemis was off the counter in a second, slipping into a defensive stance while M'gann raised a frying pan threateningly.
Conner poked his head up from beneath the counter and glared at Wally, unimpressed. "Calm down."
"Calm down?!" Wally stumbled back to his feet again, feeling only minutely safer with the couch separating him from Nightwing. "He's—Nightwing's—vigilante! Right there!"
Artemis was about to take another step forward, her eyebrows almost at her hairline, but Wally flung out an arm to stop her. "Wait, don't move! Stay where you are, he could be dangerous."
The vigilante in question, who's eyes had been closed up until that point, blinked one white mask lens open to glare at the ginger speedster.
It was a surprisingly successful glare, given that it was executed with only one eye.
"I'm always dangerous," Nightwing said, a little indignantly, like the statement had offended him.
The youthfulness of his tone made Wally wince. He'd heard his voice a few times before now, but it always managed to take him aback.
It just sounded so…young.
(And oddly familiar, but Wally refused to think about that right now).
Wally went for the goggles in his pocket, hoping he could slip them on and disarm the vigilante, but Nightwing immediately tensed.
"I wouldn't do that, KF," Nightwing growled out. His voice sounded almost hoarse, like he'd been gargling with marbles. "I really don't want to have to fight you."
Wally frowned. He'd forgotten how annoyingly observant the vigilante was. "Could've fooled me."
Nightwing let out a derisive snort, "Everyone could fool you."
"Watch it," Artemis spat, her expression murderous. "You don't get to just come in here and insult our—"
"Wait," The vigilante pulled himself up, hunching a little as he held up a hand. "Wait. I didn't mean that." He looked at Wally. "Sorry. It's just—"
Whatever he was going to say was cut off by Kaldur exiting the bathroom, wearing plaid striped pants and a massive fuzz bathrobe that had once belonged to Wally.
The speedster had been wondering where it'd gone. He never would've suspected their benevolent leader of thievery.
There was a toothbrush in Kaldur's hand, but he dropped it when he caught sight of the figure lounging in their communal living space.
For a second, the two just stared at each other; vigilante to team leader, then Kaldur let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Someone care to explain why Nightwing is currently sitting on my second favourite couch?"
"That is an excellent question," Artemis whirled one of the kitchen knives she'd snatched up from the counter, pointing it at the intruder threateningly. "Care to explain, sir?"
And that was…really hot, but also really not the time for Wally to be having these kinds of thoughts.
Conner and M'gann exited the kitchen, coming up alongside Kaldur and offering their leader silent support. All eyes were on Nightwing, bracing themselves for his answer.
The vigilante chewed his bottom lip, features nearly indistinguishable in the darkness. All that could be seen were the barest glimpse of his pale skin and dark mask. "I…need help."
It sounded like saying the words almost killed him.
Wally laughed, the sound coming out a little on the hysterical side. "And why would we help you?"
"That is," The vigilante shifted, the movement stiff. "A fair question. I was hoping you would…I don't know." He paused. When he spoke, his voice sounded small; Wally could practically feel M'gann's bleeding heart for all things pathetic begin to beat.
True to form, the Martian took a hesitant step forward, her hands fluttering with the need to help. "Are you alright?"
Nightwing stopped gnawing on his upper lip, like he was genuinely thinking her question over. "No, I don't think I am."
There was silence for a moment, no one entirely sure how to respond to that, before M'gann opened her mouth. "Physically? Are you physically hurt?"
"M'gann!" Artemis hissed, "He's a vigilante. We're supposed to arrest him!"
"He's hurt," The Martian said, that stubborn streak of hers flaring up. She stared the archer down from across the room, hands on her hips. "I thought heroes were supposed to help people."
Artemis didn't look happy about it, but she nodded. Despite her compliance, she clearly didn't trust Nightwing; her grip on the kitchen knife never loosened.
"I'll go grab the first aid kit," M'gann patted Kaldur on the shoulder, smiled up at Conner, and disappeared down the dark hall that led to their bathroom.
Soon as she was out of sight, Artemis growled out a low, "I don't like this. He's up to something."
The figure on their couch shifted, head lolling around so he could look at her, then said in a deadpan, "I'm going to kill you all where you stand with my amazing psychic powers."
Artemis' fist clenched so hard on the knife's handle that Wally worried her fingers would break. Even Kaldur, who looked extremely unprepared for combat in his (in Wally's) robe, ducked into a fighting stance.
Wally made ready to run. They'd never figured out if the vigilante had powers or not, what if he did? What if he was about to—
Nightwing threw back his head and laughed at them. Laughed. Had they fallen into a parallel universe? What was happening right now?
And his laugh was absolutely terrifying. It was more like a cackle, like a this-individual-recently-visited-a-funhouse-of-horror-and-found-the-experience-hilarious kind of cackle.
It sounded a lot like Detective Grayson's laugh on the roof, when they'd handed Copperhead off to Green Lantern and Green Arrow. In fact…
"That was not funny!" Artemis barked, face red. Even Kaldur, despite his usually stoic expression, looked a bit miffed.
Nightwing just laughed again, then pressed a hand to his temple in mock concentration. Nothing happened. "Damn, you guys can still talk? Guess my powers aren't working."
Was he…a child? Wally twisted his lip, pinched his arm, but couldn't help the quiet chuckle that pushed passed his lips.
He supposed it made sense that the vigilante acted younger, especially if M'gann was right about him being Robin.
Robin had been, what, twelve? Thirteen, when he first started vigilante-ing?
That would put Nightwing in his early twenties, at the most. Perhaps even his late teens.
"That wasn't funny," Artemis repeated, but Wally noticed her grip on the knife had loosened.
"It was a little bit funny," The speedster interjected, pretending not to see the dark look she shot in his direction.
Nightwing's head swivelled towards him and, for a second, Wally thought he'd mortally offended the guy. But then his scrutinizing glare lightened into an impossibly charming grin.
Wally couldn't help it; he smiled back.
What was…what was happening?
"Wa—er, Kid Flash, no fraternizing with the enemy." Artemis hissed softly, "He's dangerous."
"Rude," Wally and Nightwing interjected at the same time, before staring at each other incredulously.
Fortunately, before Artemis could explode or stab either of them, M'gann sailed back into the room with their first aid kit in hand. "I grabbed the extra gauze, just in case."
"So, what? We're just helping criminals now?" Artemis was snappy, but her voice sounded resigned. The knife had been returned to its place on the kitchen counter.
"Told you this was nothing to freak out over," Conner stated, stalking towards M'gann and helping her untangle the messy first aid kit.
"Wait," Artemis spun towards him, "You knew? Did you know he was in here? Is that why you were so calm?"
The Kryptonian clone gave her a flat stare. "I can hear heartbeats. Of course I knew he was here."
"And you didn't think to tell us that?"
"No," He handed M'gann a strip of cloth bandages. "He's not dangerous."
Wally scoffed, "Weren't you the one who wanted to go all 'possessive boyfriend' on him after he punched M'gann?"
From where he was sitting, openly listening in on their conversation, Nightwing winced. "Sorry about that."
The Martian waved away his apology, not even bothering to look up. "Not a problem."
Conner gestured, as if their little exchange had cleared up everything. "M'gann forgave him. Besides," He shot Nightwing an indecipherable look, one that Wally couldn't even begin to understand. "He's—"
The vigilante sighed. "Dick. I'm Dick." He looked up, expression twisted beneath the mask. "And we have a lot to talk about."
(A/N): This chapter is probably full of errors but I DON'T CARE! I'm too excited to post it and yall have waited long enough !
Also also, I'm on spring break right now AND my hardest semester just ended, so updates might be a little more frequent from now on? cross your fingers x
Have a great Saturday, you fantastic humans you! 3
~ASL