Chapter Text
“So I ended up having to pressure wash the suit in my boxers, it was that nasty. And Barry was just sitting there, laughing at me the whole time. He even sent pics to Hal.”
“Mhm.”
“And of course Hal printed them out like an asshole and put them up in the League breakroom. I didn’t even realize until I went up the other day and saw them-”
“Mhm.”
“Yeah. And I’m pretty sure you have no clue what I’m saying right now so I’m just gonna’ say something random to test that real quick, like, I’m in love with Catwoman. Seriously, tell Bruce to look out. I’m on the prowl.”
“Uh huh.”
“Dude.”
Dick snapped to attention.
“Uh, yeah. Yeah, Walls?”
“What did I just say?”
They’d been on the phone for the last hour while Dick worked on some case files he’d brought home and apparently at some point his attention had started to wean. Not intentionally, of course. He hadn’t meant to tune Wally out, really, but the words on the page in front of him had become harder and harder to read and had required more of his focus until suddenly he was squinting at the lines, barely able to make them out.
“You were,” he grasped at his memory, “trying to clean your suit?”
Wally sighed, audible even over the tinny phone speaker. “Yes, but I know you weren’t actually listening.”
Dick winced guiltily. “I’m sorry-”
“Dude, you don’t have to apologize.”
“Oh. Okay.”
They were quiet for a moment. Then-
“When’s the last time you slept?”
Crap. Dick gathered up more files as he tried to force his brain to work. “I dunno’ but it’s fine. I grabbed a nap before I left for work today, I’m good.” He hoped he sounded more convincing than he felt. The truth was he hadn’t gotten more than an hour or two of sleep since the weekend, and it was almost Thursday now.
Wally, it seemed, had gained the power of mind-reading tonight.
“You haven’t slept at all, have you?”
He deftly ignored the question.“I’ve just had some things pile up this week that I had to take care of. Tell me the rest of the story about your suit, I’ll listen this time.” He finished stacking the rest of the files and made his way to his bedroom. It was a mess, like the rest of his apartment. He placed the papers on his bed. Suddenly, the world seemed further away than it actually was. He found himself sliding down against the edge of his mattress until he hit the floor. Standing up too fast had been a bad idea.
“Forget about the suit. When’s the last time you slept?” Wally took his preoccupied silence as an answer. “Dick, you’re gonna’ get yourself killed if you keep doing this.”
He played dumb. It was surprisingly easy. “Doing what?”
“Very funny,” Wally drawled. “You used to complain about Bruce never taking a break when we were kids.”
“Exactly. I was a kid. I had, like, half the responsibilities I do now.”
“You’d have less if you weren’t always taking new things on to help people out.”
Dick laughed, but it sounded forced even to his ears. “That’s the job, isn’t it?”
“Sure. But it’s not supposed to be at your own expense.” Dick gave a noncommittal hum in reply. “You can’t do the job if you’re dead, dude.”
“I thought being dramatic was my thing.”
Despite everything, he still managed to make Wally laugh. A small smile made its way to his face as he did. Wally had a great laugh.
“Oh don’t get me wrong; you’re still our resident drama queen.” It was said softly, fond. “But seriously. I’m kind of worried about you.”
Back to playing dumb. “And why’s that?”
“Don’t,” Wally huffed, “pretend I shouldn’t be worried. You’ve barely been awake this entire call, to start. You let me get an easy shot in during training the other day, which you never do.”
He wasn’t wrong. Ever since Wally had made the decision to try the whole hero thing again, Dick had volunteered to help him with some of his catch up combat training. It’d been just another one of the countless things Dick had agreed to do as a favor in the last few months, but at least he enjoyed it. He’d missed training together.
Wally was still going. “You also took the Titan’s case files to look over this week.”
He groaned. “Bart is such a traitor.”
“Don’t blame the kid, I promised I’d take him on that cartel mission with me next week if he snitched.”
He sighed. “Fair. I’m guessing it’s his first one?”
“We can’t all be based in Gotham, dude. Cartel shit is, like, a trip to the park for you guys.”
“You’re not wrong.” There’d been a pounding, in the back of his head, since they’d started this call. It had steadily worked its way to the front of his skull as they’d talked; now, it had decided to announce its entrance. He hissed sharply, hand darting to his temple.
“What happened? You okay?”
He waved him off before remembering his friend couldn’t see him. “I’m fine, just- gah!” The sensation was sharp, cutting deftly into his nerves. His hands pressed harder into his skull, desperately trying to relieve some of the pain.
“That’s it, I’m coming over.”
“No! No, I’m fine. Seriously, Wally, don’t worry. I just need to finish this file for work and then I-,” he stuttered, drawing a blank as to what he had to do next. “I… need to finish checking the Titan files. And flesh out a lead for that case I’m profiling for Bruce at the docks.”
“What you need to do is sleep. Get one of your brothers to cover the lead for you and leave the files until tomorrow.”
“I’m not gonna’ just pass this off to one of them; Bruce asked me to do it and I agreed. Besides, the docks are closer to me than them.”
“And the files?”
“The files are my responsibility. All of it is.” He didn’t mean to come off so clipped, but Wally was starting to aggravate him. He got that he was concerned, but he had to handle this by himself.
A small voice in his mind returned to ask why he had to do it alone, but he pushed it aside. He just had to.
“Really? Because I’m sure that Bruce asked you to follow up with that lead as a favor. Not only that, but the Titans can also finish their own casework if you let them. Plus those work files probably aren’t even due until the end of the week, are they?”
Dick grit his teeth. He was right, but he didn’t want to admit it.
“Doesn’t matter if they are, it’s still my responsibility.”
“Only because you volunteered for them.”
“Exactly. I should’ve taken care of those things. I should be able to take care of those things, and I didn’t.”
“They weren’t yours to take care of in the first place!”
“Yes, they were! People needed my help, and I could, so I gave it to them.”
“You do know you can say no to things sometimes, right?”
“Not all of us can take a vacation like you did,” he snapped.
The words left a bitter taste in his mouth. Wally had just gotten back into the game after almost five years. Dick had watched his friend struggle to adapt to the lifestyle he once left willingly, helping him catch up on all the combat he’d forgotten. Sometimes he couldn’t help the stupid grin on his face whenever Wally finally got an old move right and gave him this- this really cute smile. And now he’d ruined it all.
“Wally, I didn’t mean-”
The call ended. Panic seized Dick as his hands fumbled to redial. Fuck, he’d fucked this up. Maybe he did need to sleep- he never would’ve said something as callous as that if he’d been in his right mind.
The call rang through once, twice, and then three times before it went to voicemail. Heart sinking, he tried again. It rang out. Dick knew what he’d said had been rude, but Wally wouldn’t just ignore him over that. At least, he didn’t think he would. They’d had their falling outs before, but they’d always gotten over them. The small amount of his remaining rationality was arguing that his words weren’t as harsh as he thought they were, that Wally would call him back soon, but he couldn’t help but feel-
There was a knock at his front door that stopped him cold. By instinct, he sought out his escrima sticks. It was late, he wasn’t expecting anyone, and his nerves were shot enough that he wasn’t sure how good he’d be in a fight.
His sticks were on top of an empty cereal box he’d left sitting in his kitchen for the last few days. Looking at it, he couldn’t quite remember the last time he’d had a real meal.
Dick shook his head. There were more pressing matters at hand right now, like who’d be knocking on his door this late at night. Running through the small list of people who knew his actual address, he found he couldn’t come up with anybody who had a reason to be there. He grabbed the sticks and padded quietly to the door. He held his breath as he glanced through the peephole-
And let it all out once. His shoulders deflated as he tossed the sticks towards his couch, ignoring the one that didn’t make it and clanged onto the floorboards. He’d grab it later. He unlocked the various bolts across the door and opened it meekly.
The sight of Wally leaning against the doorframe was more comforting than he could’ve realized. His brain momentarily noticed the flash of worry on his friend’s face, but it was gone before he could comment on it.
“Sorry for the hangup, but I figured I might as well just come see you while you’re all moody.”
Dick launched into his apology, “I’m sorry. I know it wasn’t a vacation for you, I get why-”
“And that,” Wally interrupted him as he pushed off the frame, “is exactly what I don’t want to hear out of your mouth tonight.”
Dick blinked. His brain spun for a second. “Huh?”
Wally sighed. He gently nudged Dick back into his apartment, closing the door behind them. He then walked over towards the kitchen, where he thankfully ignored the mess that was now even more obvious to Dick with company over. He started pulling boxes from a takeout bag he hadn’t even noticed him holding.
“Dude, I know you didn’t mean it. You’re exhausted, and you don’t say things like that unless you’re not thinking straight.” He finished unpacking the bag and turned towards Dick.
“So, here’s what’s gonna happen. You are going to go take a shower. Because as much as I love the ‘sexy tousled vigilante hair’ look, I love it more when your product hasn’t cemented itself to your scalp. Then, you and I are gonna’ eat some shitty diner food.” Suddenly the smell of pancakes hit his addled mind. They reminded him of Alfred. It made his heart pang unexpectedly. When was the last time he’d called? “And finally, we’re going to binge-watch something on the couch while you spill about your life. No files, no casework, no mask. Okay?”
He stared at him dumbly.
“You think my hair is sexy?”
And Wally, wonderful amazing Wally, just laughed.
“Of course I do. Me and the rest of Gotham. Now go clean up, Wonder Boy. I’ll set up here.”
“But what about my lead?”
“Show me the case file.”
It took him a second to remember where he’d left it. He knew it was somewhere by the- there. He snagged it from the windowsill where it sat next to a sad-looking succulent. He made his way back over to Wally, desperately hoping he didn’t catch how he staggered as he walked. He’d pulled his ankle during patrol at some point and hadn’t had the chance to properly check it out. He handed it over, watching as the other began to rapidly speed through the pages.
“Alright, got it. You go shower, and I’ll take care of this.”
Dick frowned. “I can’t just let you-”
“Yes, you can actually.” Wally cut him off teasingly until he noticed how upset he looked. “Do you think I can’t handle it?”
“What? No! I just…” He felt his cheeks begin to burn. He prayed it wasn’t obvious. “I wouldn’t feel right if something happened to you on a detail meant for me.”
Wally softened. He reached out and grabbed one of Dick’s hands from where it was clenched at his side. “I’ll be alright, dude. Promise. I’ll keep my hood up and borrow one of your masks, okay? I’ll be back before you even know I left.”
Dick chewed on his bottom lip in thought. “If anything starts to go wrong, you get out of there. Got it?”
“Yes sir,” Wally teased, giving his hand one last squeeze before speeding over to his couch where a spare mask lay. Actually, that might’ve been his real mask. He hadn’t been the best about storing his equipment lately. He watched as Wally grabbed it and then fished around for some spirit gum. He found it by the TV, and within seconds he’d pressed the mask to his face. Dick’s heart did a funny little twist at the sight of him wearing part of the Nightwing ensemble. It looked good.
Wally pulled his hood up and then sped back to Dick. Suddenly, the speedster was within arms reach.
“Stop making that face, I’ll be fine. This isn’t my first lead.” Dick resisted the urge to remind him it was his first lead in a while, and in Gotham territory on top of that. “Now go shower. I’ll take care of this and come right back.”
“And then we cuddle?” He’d meant it jokingly, but faltered at Wally’s quirked brow, noticeable even with the mask on.
“Obviously.” And with that he was gone, just some rustled papers left behind in his wake.
He stood like an idiot in the middle of his living room before realizing he should probably get a move on. He made his way into the bedroom in a daze. He blindly sought out some clean clothes from his drawers, then made his way into the bathroom and turned the water on. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror as he waited for it to heat up. The bags under his eyes were more prominent than usual. Maybe Wally was right to be concerned.
He shucked off his old clothes and stepped in, relishing the warmth of the water more than he would’ve thought. God, when was the last time he’d washed his hair? His fingers started to work through the knots, clumps of old layered product dissolving as he lathered shampoo into them.
The more the fog began to lift from his mind, the more aware he became of how exhausted he truly was. His muscles ached tremendously from nights spent patrolling, both in Bludhaven and Gotham. There was that dull throbbing in his skull still, not to mention the crick in his neck from hours spent doing case work. He was a mess. He leaned forward to rinse.
What else was new?
He scrubbed at his scalp harshly, convincing himself the water running down his face was from the shower.
Dick must’ve been in there longer than he thought because Wally was knocking at the door.
“Hey, I’m back. You almost done?”
“Uh, yeah. Yeah, almost.” He called back. Or at least, attempted to. His voice came out as more of a croak.
Wally, thankfully, didn’t comment. “Wicked.”
It said something about his current state that Dick didn’t immediately leap to tease his friend about his outdated vocabulary. Instead, he focused on convincing himself not to sit down beneath the steady stream of water. He wasn’t sure he’d get up again if he did.
Finally, he finished and stepped out. He grabbed a towel and started tousling his hair dry. He finished drying himself off and looked around for the clothes he’d brought in with him. At least they vaguely matched. He threw on the old sweatpants and Gotham U hoodie before stepping back into his bedroom, steam from the bathroom trailing behind him. He glanced over at the bed and stopped when he realized that the haphazard pile of paperwork he’d had strewn about was now neatly tucked away on top of his desk in the corner. The desk which had previously been host to more than a few old plates and cups that he’d begun stacking out of necessity. Even his suit, which he’d left in a crumpled pile next to his bed, had been hung up in the closet.
“Hey, Wally?”
“Yeah?” He heard his voice in the living room and walked out to follow it.
“Did you clean up my- oh.”
As he left the hallway he suddenly realized the cleaning hadn’t just been limited to his bedroom. The kitchen was no longer covered in take out boxes and the stacks of case files he’d been keeping on top of his little dining table were now put away. His sticks, along with a slew of other weapons, had been put back in their cases. The couch pillows were propped up and even his little plant on the window looked like it’d been watered. On his coffee table sat a decent helping of breakfast food from some undoubtedly seedy diner. It basked in the light of the Sex and the City rerun that was waiting on his screen.
And in the middle of it all was a bashful looking Wally.
“I didn’t wanna’ make you feel bad about your place being a mess.” He rubbed at the back of his neck, “ So I thought I’d clean up while you showered. I’m sorry if I put anything in the wrong place, the throwing stars and stuff you had lying around were kind of sharp so I just put them all in the case so you don’t step on them or-”
Dick cut off his nervous speed talking by closing the gap between them and engulfing him in a hug. Wally let out a small oof of surprise but quickly wrapped his arms around him as well.
“Thank you.”
They stood there, in the dim light of his apartment, just holding each other. As the seconds ticked by, however, it became clear that Wally was doing most of the holding while Dick felt his body begin to sag.
“Okay, we’re moving to the couch,” Wally declared, his arms gently yet firmly leading them towards the pile of food waiting in front of the television. It said something that it took very little for him to maneuver them both.
And suddenly they were sitting down, Wally with an armful of his best friend who was-
Who was currently sitting in his lap. Or at least half of it.
“You okay dude?” And there was Wally, concerned again. Rightfully so, Dick was sure his face was beet red by this point.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m just really… really tired.”
He wasn’t lying. It was all he could focus on, despite current circumstances. Just how worn out his body and mind suddenly felt. All because he couldn’t handle his shit properly without breaking down. Wally was right; he’d kill himself if he kept this up forever.
Something wet was trailing down his face. He touched it dumbly before realizing they were tears. When had he started crying?
“Dick, it’s okay. C’mere, you’re alright.” Wally was moving around, shifting them so that Dick was being pulled against Wally’s chest as he leaned back and stretched out along the length of the couch. Dick unabashedly allowed him to. They hadn’t done this since they were kids. That didn’t seem to bother Wally, who showed no sign of letting go soon, nor Dick, who had no plans of making him. He just let the older boy hold him tighter until his hitched breathing began to taper out.
“Maybe,” he rasped, “I should’ve been sleeping more.”
Wally chuckled, albeit tiredly. “No shit. But hey, now you can. We’ll eat, talk a bit, and then you can crash. Sound good?”
It did. “Yeah.”
They stayed that way for a while before Dick realized they should probably eat the food Wally had brought. He’d have to find a way to pay him back later without him knowing.
“Help me up?”
“Of course.” Wally shifted them back upright. “Careful. Your head still hurt?”
Dick cast him a look. “That obvious?”
Wally snorted. “Dude. I know you.” There was a blur and a gust of wind and suddenly there was a glass of water and some pills from his medicine cabinet. “Drink up.”
He dry swallowed the pills and chased them down with the water. It eased the throbbing in his head a bit, and before he knew it he’d drank the whole thing. He let out a breath and set the glass down. The smell of the food before them hit again as he did; he was sure it’d gone cold, but he could use something to eat. He turned towards Wally.
“Can I make all this up to you by allowing you the first choice of pancake?”
“There’s nothing for you to make up for, but I will accept your offer.”
They busied themselves with making their plates. Wally’s was more formidable than Dick’s own, but he wasn’t too far behind. Speedster stomachs were one thing. Living on handfuls of cereal for three days was another.
“By the way, your lead at the docks? Total bust.”
Crap. He’d almost forgotten. “What happened? You’re okay, right?”
“Dude, relax.” Dick shot him a look. Wally grinned back sheepishly. “Alright, fair. But yeah, I’m fine. Nothing happened, your guy showed up- in a tracksuit, by the way. Who still wears tracksuits?”
“An alarming amount of the population. Keep going.”
“Right, right. Well, he gave me some shit at first about how he was told he’d be ‘directly talking to Nightwing’, which was so annoying. He quit it when I threatened to leave. But everything he told me was already in your case file, nothing you didn’t already have. Sorry there wasn’t anything more.”
He shook his head, but stopped when it left him feeling woozy. “It’s fine, you saved me a useless trip down to the docks. I’ll let Bruce know tomorrow. Thank you,” he added, “for going for me.”
“Of course.’
Distantly, he heard the sound of thunder outside.
“So… you feel like talking it out yet?”
Dick groaned. “Let me have my pancakes in peace, please.”
“Oh no you don’t,” Wally’s hand dashed out and grabbed his plate. Dick whined and feebly made grabby hands for it. His attempts were met with an unimpressed stare. “You get pancakes after you start talking. I promise I won’t let Alfred know if you talk with your mouth full.”
It was Dick’s turn to laugh. He fell back into the cushions with a huff. “He’d still know.”
“Yeah,’ Wally smiled, “probably.” He put the plate down, only half-serious with his threats. He nudged his shoulder. “Come on, dude. The strong silent thing doesn’t suit you. And I didn’t run all this way just to watch you pass out on the couch.”
Guilt flooded him once more. He turned his head towards Wally. “I really am sorry,” he started, “for all of this.”
“Dude, I told you-”
“I know. But I am. You ran all this way just to help me out and I’ve spent most of the night stumbling around like an idiot. I just want you to know, I- thank you. For all of this.” He watched the way Wally’s eyes softened as he listened to him talk. And even though he’d said it a hundred times before, he felt the words catch in his throat as he finished. “I love you.”
And he wasn’t imagining the blush that suddenly dusted Wally’s freckled cheeks as his friend faithfully responded, “I love you too.”
Maybe when he didn’t feel like absolute shit he’d explore whatever this was a little more. For now, he was content to poke Wally with his bare feet and laugh at the way he squawked indignantly. “Come on. Start eating, and I’ll spill.”
They dug in quickly, Wally with a bit more gusto. They devoured their cold pancakes with syrup they spilled from tiny plastic packets and washed it down with takeout cups of iced tea. Dick started to talk tentatively as they ate. He started off with the extra patrols in Gotham, how most of them were spent tying up loose ends and trying not to get his ass kicked by the random goons. There was never any time to really talk to any of his family while they were so busy, not in a real way at least, and he could never spend the night at the manor since he always had something in Bludhaven the next day. The guilt he felt from leaving every time with nothing more than a few tired exchanges before riding off on his bike was starting to eat away at him.
By the time they’d started in on the turkey sausage and the end of season two, it was easier to talk. Rain had started to fall, and the sound of it pattering softly against his windows was calming. He explained the reports, the irrational ability to just let go of Titans business. He wasn’t a kid anymore, but this was the team he’d helped create. How was he supposed to just give up the reins after all these years?
Carrie was busy explaining why the city was like a good pair of shoes when he started to get drowsy. He’d gotten into talking about his day job. He enjoyed it immensely, much more than when he’d been a cop, but sometimes the cases started to pile up when he was busy with patrols. The feeling of real food in his stomach and the soft sounds of the TV were starting to lull him to sleep. His head had already drifted down to Wally’s shoulder awhile ago. He could feel his friend card his fingers through his hair as he tried to finish explaining- he had no idea what he was explaining. It didn’t seem all that important anymore.
“Go to sleep, Dick.” Wally wasn’t looking at him, his gaze focused on the TV set instead. He still snagged the blanket thrown over the back of the couch and draped it over them. He threw his arm around Dick’s shoulders and let him burrow in closer. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”
That was enough for him. Dick let himself relax for the first time in what felt like days as he felt his eyes grow heavier and heavier. His issues in life hadn’t been solved by any means; his responsibilities would still be there when he awoke, and sooner or later he was going to have to face the consequences of another inevitable burnout if he didn’t shape up. But for now, he was okay.
He ignored the part of him that insisted now was only temporary, that he couldn’t keep fucking up like this forever. Dick was too tired to care. The sounds of the rain and the barely audible TV were lulling him to sleep. He’d worry about it in the morning.
And as he drifted off, he could swear he felt the ghost of a kiss pressed against the top of his head.