Blah. I should be writing stuff for perfect. IM A TERRIBLE PERSON. Plus I killed Dick.
Hating me yet?
This is now a two-shot. And it will probably turn into a three shot but I must get a 'certain' level of reviews before that happens.
Floaties are like those blow up tubes you put around your arms.
Here it is. Im not exceptionally proud but it's the best I can too when im this tired
Wally screamed.
A soul wrenching, ear piercing scream.
He screamed until his lungs were fit to burst; he screamed until his throat was hoarse; he screamed until his body gave up and he collapsed on his driftwood, floating aimlessly on the endless water.
He screamed until he knew there would be no reply.
. . .
Survival.
It was the one thought on his mind.
He had let Dick di-
No.
He had to clear his mind on everything that had just happened, as much as he wanted to lie down on the timber and just... Join his best friend.
But he had to keep on fighting. Wasn't that was heroes were supposed to do? Fight, and fight, until they died. We all die, Wally thought. It's sooner for heroes. But they usually die in battle.
Dick would have died anyway. It was awful, but true. Every superhero met their demise, sooner rather than later. Even those who had managed to learn the secret of eternal life sooner or later just wanted to give up and well, rest in peace.
Wally would die, too.
But Dick had died first.
. . .
Unconsciously, Wally began to slip into the water. His arms flailed for about half a second before he just sunk like a stone. He stayed under. He took a deep breath of the water and began to cough. His natural instincts forced him up, but his arms pushed him downwards. His head seemed to have no part in this, following what his heart was desiring so much at the time.
Wally saw light.
It glowed and it was warm. He didn't shiver anymore. It was comforting, like a warm hug from Aunt Iris, or one of those days where he had spent the whole afternoon in front of the fire with Uncle Barry. Or a sunshiny day where he had lounged out side with Dick. He saw his life. He didn't see it as himself, but as if he was watching a little freckled red head boy grow from hungry, hyperactive little kid to a more responsible - but still hyperactive - teenager. He saw every moment in his head, replayed in slow motion. Every second he spent with Dick, in color, just slightly brighter than he remembered it to be.. He picked up on every little feature that only best friends can see in each other. His laugh. His smile. The way his eyebrows creased when he talked about something that meant the world to him. His eyes. His tears. Th way he slipped into a stutter when he got scared. Even the way the bridge of his nose crinkled when he was confused.
Wally wanted this - he really did. He wanted to engulfed by the water. Forget the world.
But he wasn't ready.
He had to avenge Dick.
He floated to the surface, panting for air, celebrating the humid oxygen circulating in his lungs. He raises his arms to the sky, for once appreciating the rain that poured down on him. Thunder rumbled, right one cue, and Wally grinned. It was a sign.
He began to swim.
. . .
"You know, Dick, you're an idiot for leaving me behind." Wally yelled to the empty ocean.
"We could of saved the world again. Dude, you could of least had a more honorable death. Drowning? They're not going to erect a statue in the park for that. Hey, if they do, I'll sneak in at night and put floaties on you. Could'a used some floaties, man."
Wally took another stroke. His arms hurt like hell, but he could see a faint dot on the horizon. Land, he knew it. And it would only be about two hours swim away. He could make it, but he couldn't put his head under water. The urge was too tempting.
Talking to Dick... It was helping. It made him forget what had really happened.
"If you're alive, yell out now"
He hesitated. He was half tempted to slip into more coercive measures, threatening Dick to come back alive right now. But he resisted the urge and forced his arms to move.
"You, know, I'll probably end up on Themyscira. Geese, you would of chosen a suckish time to die. I'd have all these smoking hot babes, and dude, they would've never met a man so they'd be all over me."
Wally waited for a reply, knowing he'd never get one. He signed and continued to paddle onwards. His stomach growled. He was so hungry. He hadn't eating in hours, maybe even a day. And that in itself was a miracle. He really needed some food.
The seaweed below him was even looking mildly appealing.
He rubbed his eyes and continued to swim.
For Dick.
That would be his mantra.
For Dick, for Dick, for Dick...
. . .
He finally arrived at the island, his chest heaving from his swim. He flopped onto his back dramatically, shutting his eyes.
When he finally peeled himself off the sand, he stood, dusting himself off.
He glanced around.
Trees.
Shrubs.
Sand.
Water.
Body.
Grass.
His brain clicked in.
And he ran over to the body
He ran over to Dick.
So… review. What should happen to dick? What should happen to wally? What do YOU think?