He watched the sky with an unwavering curiosity. A fascination as powerful as the plasma that shot through the thundering skies, though no one could see it, the expression as fleeting as the light which electricity shed upon the sky. A glowing flicker of emotion then roaring normalcy once more.

It was then that it clicked.

He is lightning.

Not in a literal sense, no. But the characteristics were certainly there. And the none-too-widely known fact that his birth was both ended and began with that single, once-in-a-lifetime chance.

Really, it was amazing how well he hid his terror.

Thunder growled through the city, the loud grumbling ricocheting to and fro in an endless thrum of crackles and rolling booms.

Alone atop one of Gotham's many skyscrapers, Wally stood in the endless typhoon, irritation shown quite clearly upon his freckled face. Green eyes scanned the area in incredible speed, their wide sweep appearing as nothing more than a small twitch.

"Geesh, what gives, Rob?" He muttered with a quick flick of his head; bare hands carting through the messy hair in tangent with the goal of allowing some water to fly off him. It's a strange habit. One the rain under appreciated as it quickly undoes what little there was to gain by the motion as water collected atop his head drop by heavy drop.

"Crime doesn't take a break, Kid."

Spinning around, the sodden red head laughed at the slim figure shadowed by the tall building's dark echo casually clad and cloaked by the night.

"Right. That's always your excuse." Wally teased.

A quick flash of lightning showed the wide white smile on his friend's face at the familiar quip.

"Better than my stomach, Fleet Feet." Robin replied, his tone mild as he sauntered over to his best friend the close proximity hindering the young speedster's attempts at hiding the small tremor being out in this weather generated.

"You want to, uh, get out of the rain? Or is this some kind of speedster... Thing?"

"Ah, not really a favorite weather type." Wally chuckled, his hand grasping the nape of his neck- his tell, as it were. "Where to, Bat?"

"Right." The afternoon finally beginning as Robin walked towards the edge of a building, his silence being the unspoken "follow me" for him.

The two ended up in New Orleans for some of the best crawfish etouffee Wally claims to have ever eaten. This, of course, was far from strange. It was common knowledge amongst the League that the speedsters knew their food, and especially, they knew where it is best to get it.

Having superspeed, as Wally so often gloated, had it's benefits.

However, despite his best friend's alleged craving for Cajun Creole, Dick couldn't help but note the fact that Wally managed to choose one of the only areas of America not currently suffering from the sudden temperature changes common in the springtime.

The majority of the midwest and northern regions of America have been pounded with a sudden influx of tornados and thunderstorms each ranging in intensity as the seasons battled over their temporary reign.

Wally, Dick noted, has always done his best to avoid thunderstorms.

Understandably so, the acrobat silently mused.

While he and Wally have known eachother since they were nine and ten, respectively, there are certain things both boys know but never mention.

Wally, for one, knows about his parent's death. He knows what happened and it's effects on the younger boy. Sure, they have talked about it and once in a blue moon, it will be brought up. When the team went on a mission involving the circus, for instance.

However, there is a mutual understanding of how deeply personal such events are both in their shaping-effect and the emotional scar left in it's wake.

For Wally, it's his parents as well as his powers. Both dramas occurred one after the other and as such, they seem to trigger one another more often than not. The thing with scars is that they're healed, but remembered. An echo of the pain as well as a reminder. And, every now and then, the right touch causes somewhat of a flare despite how repaired that person is.

Not many know how Wally received his powers.

More often than not people seem to shrug their shoulders with a flippant tick towards the idea that he was born with them.

That, however, is not the case.

Dick, being his best friend, is one of the few heroes privy to this knowledge. And it is with that very knowledge the slower of the two doesn't comment on Wally's inaudible sigh of relief when that beacon of hope called the sun finally shines through as both friends enjoy their time together.

It isn't often the two can just hang out without homework, missions, or patrol. And, really, it's nice to pretend they're normal teenagers every now and again.

The impossibly loud crackle fizzled out into the low rumble thunder is so famously known for rolling out. The sound only seemed amplified within Mount Justice as the team sat in silence, each nervously awaiting news from within the medical ward.

Their most recent mission was both a success and an utter failure. The team managed to complete their mission but at the cost of Robin and Kid's safety when the floor of the five story warehouse decided to cave under their weight just as they were leaving.

As if their fall wasn't enough, the sound alerted the guards to the team's presence amping the recon mission into combat immediately.

The guards were few and soon the team prepared themselves for the search and rescue of their two pranksters. It didn't take long for M'gann to locate and board both boys. The series of holes was a rather obvious trail.

Robin managed to regain consciousness the instant the Bioship took flight.

And, seeing as he took significantly smaller damage in the fall, it wasn't all that surprising. All the worry, anger and guilt seemed to silence the typically cheeky hero who kept muttering about stupid speedsters and their habit of using themselves as human shields.

The team, of course, had to agree. Healing factors be damned, Wally was injured.

Upon their arrival at base, both Kid and Robin were ushered to the medical bay, the team silent in their corresponding guilt. Each frustrated thought of theirs punctuated with a new clap of thunder.

They were oddly used to this.

Dick wasn't too bad off. His wrist and ankle were a little more than sprung and with some cuts which required stitches. But such injuries were practically superficial.

Wally, however, managed to receive another broken wrist on top of a solid concussion, some bruised and broken ribs and more than a few more cuts deserving of stitches than Richard acquired.

Knowing full well he'll be good as new in a week, Rob saw it as his duty to be the first to scream in Wally's face when he woke up. It was why he demanded they share a room while being patched up, and seeing as the stubborn ginger had yet to join him in consciousness, Dick refused to leave his friend's bedside even as the painkillers kicked in with their vengeful drowsiness.

One minute he was checking the time the next he was waking up with the uncomfortable feeling that someone stood behind him.

Groaning in indignation, Dick tore his blurry eyes from the empty bed in front of him to the lanky speedster behind him.

The storm raged on outside the window, a staccato rhythm blanketing the quiet of the room. Standing tall and oddly still was Wally, his gaze cryptic as he stared out into the storm.

Once again noting the odd tenseness of the moment, Dick chose simply to stand beside his friend; the two comforted enough by their mutual presence.

Wally could see it a moment before it shot through the clouds, the sort of preliminary spark lightning tends to release milliseconds before it's bold streak is shot into the sky. His eyes trailed the mesmerizing glow, his body tilting forward in subconscious desire.

It was seconds after thunder had released it's growl that Dick finally spoke, his voice strong despite the softness of his tone, "I always figured you hated lightning. It made sense, you know? To hate the thing that…" he trailed off, the second half not needing stated.

Wally knew what he was getting at.

" But it's not, is it?" Blue eyes slid to stormy green with blatant curiosity begging the ginger be pulled from his haze.

A quick shake of his head, one hand instantly rubbing half his face as a small hiss of pain escaped from the movement brought Kid back from whatever space he was traveling. His body relaxed as reality kicked back in.

Green eyes shifted one last time towards the sky, an unspeakable longing dripping from their core. When Wally finally returned Richard's gaze a mischievous glint has stubbornly replaced the longing.

"No." Wally stated, his breath hitching at the effort as his ribs protested the act of speaking.

A slow but sure nod from the shorter of the two speaking for the both of them.

And just like that the blue moon was gone. But Dick had seen his friend's trance. It was a glint so foreign and yet so fitting. Not one induced by fear but not one of yearning, either. It was a certain look of uncertain awe that can only be reflected by those touched by an unstoppable force. A force that could just as easily kill you as it can save you. It is equal parts fear and desire.

Healing and destruction.

It is very much the speedster dichotomy.

To be the friendliest as well as the deadliest.

And it was in that small instant that Robin understood Wally all the more.

"C'mon, let's go see the team."

"What, no lecture?"

The rumbling of thunder was his only response.

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