Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Too slow. 

He’s too slow, and his teammate goes down before he can stop the hit. 

“Robin!” he calls, panicked. He pauses for a split second, looks at the rest of their teammates all around them, fighting off the giant lazer-robot in the middle of the city, and decides they can handle it. He’s at Robin’s side in an instant, hands hovering over his body like he doesn’t know what to do. It’s because he doesn’t. 

Robin holds his stomach with both arms, curled into the wound blazed through his armour and into his side. His teeth are grit, grinding together with every shudder of pain that rolls over his body. Wally feels a little sick at the way his expression is twisted, where it’s usually blank as a whiteboard. “Robin? What do I do? Help me, please, what do I do?” 

Robin hisses, curling further. “Clean it,” he forces out, sounding like he’s struggling to breathe. “Cauterized, won’t bleed out. Just clean it.” 

For how fast he can go, the split second he takes to find a clean water source feels way too long. He finds it, though, and he sits next to Robin’s pain-wracked body, cleaning the wound.  

This team is new – super new. Robin happens to be the member he knows the least. What he does know is that he’s cold and closed-off and distant. What he didn’t know before, what he hadn’t spent enough time talking to him to figure out, was he was also a jackass. They worked together just fine, ish, when they were working, but now that Robin is walking him through cleaning him up while in pain he’s incredibly snippy and dick-ish, and he’s really, really starting to get on Wally’s nerves. He’s not sure the way his heart is beating a mile a second in his veins is helping him, either. 

He follows Robin’s instructions, though, and eventually Robin is both temporarily bandaged and in a lot less pain. At that point, the team has brought the giant robot down, and they join him at Robin’s side, hovering. Robin tries to sit up, and it’s only at that point that Wally notices the blood on the concrete beneath his head. 

“Robin!” he says, putting his hand on his teammate’s chest and pushing him back down on reflex. “Dude, your head.” 

“Oh,” Robin says dizzily. “Yeah. That’s a concussion.” 

“Dude. Hold still, let me check.” 

Robin’s hands snap up like he’s the one with super-speed to catch Wally’s wrists before he even gets three inches close to the mask pressed against his eyes. “Don’t,” he snaps, suddenly the coldest and most intense Wally’s ever heard him. “The mask stays on.” 

“I have to check your eyes,” Wally says back hotly, the tight, unyielding grip on his wrists angering him. “I have to see your pupils to tell if you have a concussion.” 

“No. You don’t.” Robin swallows. He doesn’t stop Wally from breaking his grip. 

“I have to check. It's fine, we’re a team. We’re supposed to trust each other. No one else is even looking. Let me take it off.” 

“No.” 

“It’s not that hard.”  

“The mask stays on,” he repeats. “You don’t... have to check, because I’m telling you. It’s- It’s a concussion.” 

“So, what, you don’t trust us?” Wally shoots back hotly. 

“Drop it. Or I’m gonna... When I throw up- It's gonna be on you. Let’s just- Let's just get back.” 

Wally scoffs as he stands up. He doesn’t talk to Robin the whole rest of the mission. Not that he notices or even cares.   

~~~~~

Wally snatches the thermos from the barista. “Thank you!” he says, smacking a twenty on the counter in front of them. It’s fine. It’s not his money. He’s pretty sure it’s what the surplus was for, anyway. “Hey- Don’t tell Batman I was here, okay?” 

The guy behind the counter stares at the bill, then snatches it up and shoves it in their pocket. “Sure,” they say, fluffing their hair. “Hate that guy, anyway.” 

“Thanks!” he calls again, twisting the lid back on the thermos and zipping back out. 

He cups the thermos tight to his chest on the way back to the Tower. It takes twenty seconds longer than he wanted it to – accident on the interstate, and he both helped run someone to the hospital and had to find a way around the wreckage. He’s learned not to touch people’s cars if not in an active fight – it’s almost gotten him in legal trouble before. Barry was not happy with him. 

Back at the Tower, he has to actually slow down to input his code into the keypad – somebody still has him blocked from the auto-scan – because he keeps messing it up. When he finally gets the door to open – without setting the Tower on lockdown, might he add – he zips up to the top floor.  

“Robin?” he prompts. Sometimes he can search the whole Tower within a second and not find him. 

Kori, floating above the counters in the kitchen with her arms inside the cupboard that has Beast Boy’s stash in it, relaxes a little when she sees it’s just him. “Ah, hello, Kid Flash,” she says guiltily, glancing around. “I believe he is… in the lounge?” 

“Thanks,” he says. “I won’t tell him, but you know he’s gonna be mad.”  

“I will replenish his stores,” Kori promises. 

Wally hums, zipping away. Robin is, indeed, in the lounge, the top of his head peeking up over the back of the couch. “I can’t believe you sent me to Gotham for coffee,” Wally says, rolling his eyes. “You know what the Bat would’ve done if he saw me? Nothing good, probably. You probably do know. Don’t tell me, please. Also you’re aware of how many shots of espresso I saw them put in there? It was like, seventeen, and I’m pretty sure that’d put anyone that’s not me into a coma or something, so please tell me you have super high metabolism.” 

He doesn’t get interrupted the whole time he's talking, and even when he pauses to breathe, he doesn’t get a response. He peeks over the couch, still keeping out of arm’s reach – and while he obviously can’t see Robin’s eyes, the hands on his keyboard are lax, his head is slightly tipped back onto the pillow he’s resting on, and his breathing has smoothed out.  

He’s asleep. Wally has the sudden, very violent thought to dump the coffee on him and run, but he’s not really looking to get murdered today, and besides, he’s kind of... well. He wouldn’t say cute, that would be weird, but he definitely looks peaceful, more than Wally’s ever seen him. So he refrains, turning around to try to leave again. 

...The mask can’t possibly be comfortable to sleep in, right? 

He’s been feeling a little spiteful, anyway, ever since Robin sabotaged his stupid- his entire collection of candy, even if it was in response to Wally telling him he should take the stick out of his ass. So he’s totally willing to start another argument. In lieu of dumping his coffee on him. 

Wally very carefully maneuvers around to the front of the couch, then stands as far back as he can while still being able to reach Robin’s shoulder. He taps him, three times, in rapid succession. “Hey, man, you want me to take off the mask? That can’t be comfortable to sleep in.” 

Robin’s head rolls to the side when he starts speaking, but his hand snaps out the second he says the word ‘mask’, gripping his wrist. Again. “Don’t,” he says. “I’m not sleeping.” 

Wally scoffs, twisting out of his grip. “You were ignoring me? That’s actually so mean.” 

“I was... half-sleeping,” Robin admits. 

“Still ignoring me.”  

“I was hoping if I didn’t answer, you’d go away. And I wouldn’t have to wake up.” 

“Okay, rude. You’re the one who sent me for coffee.” 

“Hand it over, then.” 

“Uh, I don’t think so,” Wally says, holding the thermos up above his head and out of Robin’s reach. “You’re falling asleep while you’re working. You obviously need a break.” Is he saying it to be mean? Yeah. Maybe a little. 

“I don’t need a break. Give me my coffee.” 

“Seventeen shots, Robin. I’m not calling your dad when you drop dead.” 

“Batman is not my dad,” Robin spits, pushing the laptop off and pulling himself up so he can reach higher. Wally takes a step back. “Normal caffeine intake doesn’t affect me, so I use more.” 

“Seventeen. You’re already falling asleep, just put the work away and do it later. You look exhausted.” 

“That’s what the coffee’s for,” Robin snaps. 

“Not anymore,” Wally quips, and downs the coffee before Robin can react. 

Robin stares at him. “Did you just-” 

“Yep.” 

“What the heck is wrong with you?” For a guy that doesn’t swear, he sure still manages to sound scary. “I paid for that.” 

“Now you have no choice but to sleep. I’ll call in Kori and make her sit on you.” 

Robin glares at him, settling back down on the couch and pulling his laptop back. “I am not taking a break.” 

“Good to know you’re just grumpy all the time,” Wally says, rolling his eyes. “Whatever. When you do, eventually, fall asleep, do you want me to take the mask off for you?” 

“The mask stays on,” Robin snaps. “Try it, and you won’t be fast enough to get away from me.” 

“Alright, yeah, whatever.” 

Wally steps away, leaves him be. He does, of course, eventually fall asleep, and Wally doesn’t touch him. Again, not looking to get murdered. Something itches at the back of his mind, though, something he overheard about Robin being irritated when his computer died and didn’t save his things – so when he notices he has fallen back asleep, he zips in, saves the files, shuts off the computer, and zips back out before Robin can accuse him of something.  

~~~~~

The mission has kept Robin with the team for an entire week straight. 

Wally didn’t think he could possibly keep up his needing to hide his identity argument for so long, but, well, here they are. 

The problem is, when the team isn’t out on the field, they’re at base. Meaning they’re constantly around each other, all the time, for a week. It sparks more than a few arguments. One of the biggest argument, admittedly started by Wally, is how he won’t just take it off.  

Walking through the halls of the base, Robin still has his mask. Alone in one of the rooms, he still has his mask. Meditating by himself, he still has his mask. Even Beast Boy – who is currently sharing a room with him – said he doesn’t even take off his stupid costume until the last possible second, and still does not take off his mask. Given how many times Wally has asked about why he won’t do it, and has never gotten a straight answer, it’s really pissing him off.  

Now, with such a long day and the end of the mission finally in sight, the whole team has collapsed back at the base, stripped of their uniforms and changed into better clothes. A few of them are actually dead asleep, sprawled out on various surfaces like the counters or the hallway. Except for Robin, who somehow still has the energy to write his stupid little reports about everything that happened. And except for Wally, who Robin has managed to drag into helping him. 

“You’ve gotta have a personality other than this,” Wally murmurs, slowly spinning the seat of the chair. He’s sitting backwards in it, his chin laying against the backrest, his arms hanging down over it. It’s taking every ounce of his energy to keep his eyes open. 

“Nope,” Robin says, his head never moving from the computer in front of him. “What happened after that?” 

“You know what happened, you were there after that,” Wally tells him. “You know, this doesn’t make you very fun to talk to.” 

“I’m not here to talk,” Robin retorts. “I’m here to save people.” 

“Boring.” He yawns. “All that lecturing about teamwork, and you don’t even want to talk to us.” 

“Nope,” Robin says again. “We don’t need to know each other to work together. Evident by today.” 

“Sure makes it a lot more fun. Beast Boy says you don’t even respond to him. Makes you sound like an emo.”  

“Is that meant to be an insult?” Robin drawls.  

“It is when you don’t talk to anyone,” Wally responds. “I’m not convinced you actually like anyone here.” 

That finally seems to get Robin to stiffen, eyebrows drawing together. “No, I- I like you guys. You’re- fine.” 

Wally hums. “Sure. Then why don’t you take off your mask?” 

“We’ve had this discussion already.” 

“You sound like a parent,” Wally complains. “Look, everybody else has their faces out. In the open. Trust bared.” 

“Not happening. The mask stays on.” 

“For a week? C’mon, man, that’s gotta be irritating your skin. A week, you’ve gotta have blisters or something. ”  

“It doesn’t matter.” 

“You’re impossible,” Wally mutters. “Finish your nerd report on your own, dude.” 

He doesn’t get up and leave, though, he just shuts his eyes and gives into unconsciousness. 

~~~~~

“You should ask your Robin about what he gets up to in his free time, when you don’t see him.” The woman grins, looking up at the Robin in question. “Maybe he’s not as loyal to you guys as you thought.” 

“What do you mean?” Beast Boy demands. He turns to their teammate when she only answers with a smarmy smirk. “Robin, what does she mean?” 

“Nothing,” Robin snaps. “She’s a telepath, she just knows what to say to get under your skin. Don’t listen to her.” 

“He’s never shown you who he is, has he?” the woman croons. “You don’t know anything about him. He could be helping people like me behind your backs, and you’d never know.” 

“Shut up. You’ve already lost, you can’t manipulate us into letting you go.” 

“How do you think I knew how to disable your powers?” she says sweetly. 

Robin grits his teeth and cracks his elbow over her temple. Her eyes slide closed as she sprawls back against the floor. 

“Woah,” Wally says. “We had her, you didn’t need to do that.” 

“She’s still trying to manipulate us. I didn’t need her influencing any of you before we got back.” 

Beast Boy, who probably had the worst time without his powers, turns on him. “What, so you want us just to forget about that? How did she know how to take away our powers? You really want us to believe this doesn’t have something to do with that dampener you’ve been working on?” 

“She’s a telepath,” Robin snaps again. “She must’ve gotten it from my head, but I wasn’t the one to tell her. And the dampeners are for people like her, so we can make them less dangerous.” 

“You have the strongest mental walls out of any of us, and we all know it,” Wally challenges. “How would she have gotten past that?” 

“I don’t know,” Robin says, frustrated. “But I didn’t tell her anything, okay? Let’s just get to the plane.” 

The team doesn’t argue with him, and they all follow him back to the plane. Beast Boy still looks mad, though, and Wally can’t seem to unclench his jaw. They send glances to each other, clear that they’re both being itched by suspicion. The words don’t stop rolling around his head the whole time they’re flying back. 

“She wasn’t wrong, you know,” Wally says after a while, choosing to confront him about it, fists practically vibrating at his sides. “We don’t know anything about you.” 

“It’s on purpose,” Robin shoots back. “You don’t need to know who I am.” 

“I’m not just talking about your name or your face,” Wally snaps. “We don’t know anything about you. How are we supposed to trust your word over hers when you’ve given us no reason to?” 

“I’ve worked with all of you for months,” Robin spits, turning around to face him. “I’m on your team. I’ve saved your lives. I’ve never given you any reason not to trust me before now.” 

“We don’t know anything about you! We do know what you can do, though, and I don’t think I could put it past you to manipulate all of us.” 

“You’re my friends! I’d never hurt you, and you should trust me on that! I haven’t hurt you in the past, never even tried to, and that’s what you should base your trust in me on!” 

“We’re your friends?” Wally challenges. “Do you know what friends means? Friends are supposed to talk. Friends are supposed to like each other. Friends are supposed to trust each other. You don’t even trust us, how are we supposed to trust you?”  

“Don’t bring that up again, that’s not what we’re talking about,” Robin snaps. 

“Why shouldn’t I? You know who we are. All of us. You’re so nosy about everything we do, I wouldn’t be surprised if you knew what I had for breakfast two weeks ago, but we don’t know a thing about you. All that stuff you know about us, how you poke around in shit that’s none of your business, I thought it was just one of your things, but any of that could be used against us.” 

“I’d never use that knowledge to hurt you,” Robin repeats hotly. “I never would.” 

“We don’t know that!” Wally yells. “We don’t know that! There’s no trust, here, Robin, aren’t you listening?” 

“This is exactly what she wanted,” Robin hisses. “She’s telepathic. She found all your insecurities about me and turned them against you. You’re falling for her manipulation, and you’re falling for it hard. I need you to back up before you do something stupid.” 

“You want me to back up? I’m not the one who might be feeding information to the bad guys,” Wally snaps. 

“Yes, I do. Back up, take a minute, and think. I want you to really think about this, really think it through. And don’t let your anger do it for you. Let’s just get back to base, and then we can come back to this again. I need you to not do anything stupid right now.” 

Wally is so mad he’s almost shaking, but Beast Boy takes his shoulder and pushes him away so they can whisper about it together. 

Later, after the telepath has been put away, Wally has thought about it. He’s thought about it for a really, really long time. He hates Robin for it, but he was right, to send him away while he was angry. He’s not any less angry now, but it’s a quieter, simmering thing instead of bursting. 

Robin’s in his room when Wally goes to find him. There’s a split second where he considers not knocking, just barging in, but Robin’s going to know he’s there either way and wouldn’t have anything incriminating out. When he does knock, he gets a grunt in response, which has him rolling his eyes before he’s even stepped in the room. 

Robin’s at his desk, elbows braced against the table and his head in his palms. There’s a displeased curl to his lips, and his shoulders are hunched and tense. “Painkillers first,” he rasps. Wally barely has his eyes narrowed when he tacks on, “Please.” 

He’s barely gone long enough for his image to disappear, lightning following behind him, while he grabs the pills and hands them over. He almost runs back for a glass of water, but Robin just takes the pills from him and downs them dry, like a psychopath. Definitely not helping his case.  

“What’s hurting?” he asks. 

“If I told you right now, you’d only see it as evidence against me,” Robin responds, but it’s lacking any sort of heat. 

Wally narrows his eyes. “Tell me anyway.” 

“Migraine,” Robin sighs without much more fight. “Anna Page – she got past my defenses with pure brute strength. She smashed through them like a brick wall. It’s how she got into my head, but I didn’t know it until now, ‘cus it hurts like heck.” 

He frowns. “It didn’t show up before?” That sure sounds like he’s making it up to manipulate him. 

“Told you,” Robin says, but he just sounds tired. “Just- What are you here for, dude?” 

Wally's never heard him use the word ‘dude’ before in his life. “I don’t believe you,” he says finally. 

Robin turns to face him, dropping his arms. He just nods understandingly. “I get why you don’t. I get it. I just... You’re not really giving me a lot of space to try and prove myself.” 

“You want to?” Wally challenges. “You want to prove yourself?” 

“Of course I do,” Robin tells him seriously. “You’re all my friends. I care about you. Of course I want to prove myself.” 

Wally lifts his chin. “Take off your mask.” 

Robin starts to look a little more pained. “I... can’t.” 

“Can’t, or won’t?” Wally snaps, anger rising up again. “Can’t, or don’t want to?” 

“Can’t,” Robin says firmly. “I can’t.” 

“Why? You keep saying that, but you never tell us why. Why not?” 

“It’s not just my identity on the line. That means it’s not my decision. I want to, but I can’t.” 

“What, Batman won’t let you? Like you’ve ever listened to what Batman says?” Wally snorts. 

“Maybe I don’t like him, but I can’t out him like that. I can’t put him in danger, too.” 

“You don’t think we could handle it, then?” 

“No. I know you better than that. Anything could happen on accident, you could do anything with enough pressure. What if another telepath comes along and plucks it out of your head? Then my name and his name are out in the open. It wouldn’t be your fault, but it would be really bad.” 

“So you don’t trust us,” Wally clarifies coldly. 

“No- No, I do, I trust you way more than I should, I wouldn’t put my life on the line out in the field if I didn’t know you guys would have my back. I still can’t- This isn’t something I can compromise on.” 

Robin’s expression is the most open Wally’s ever seen it, but he still glares at him without a word. Those stupid white lenses look back at him, and he can’t forget it. He can’t.   

“Good luck trying to get us back, then,” Wally says, and he turns back out the door.  

~~~~~

Wally buzzes in place, the smell of popcorn wafting around the air. 

“We haven’t picked a movie yet,” he sings, bouncing against the couch cushion. 

Kori places a hand on his knee. “We will wait for Robin,” she reminds. 

“Robin’s taking forever,” he complains, but there’s no heat in it. 

They’re finally having a movie night. As a team. He’s been pushing this for forever. The most surprising thing, though – the most surprising thing is that Robin has also agreed to it.  

Ever since the thing a few weeks ago, Robin’s been acting- Well, definitely weird. Not in the field, not while they’re out fighting, he’s the same as he’s always been in that regard, but while he’s just around the team he’s been acting a lot lighter. Less distant, less snappy. Less like he’s pissed at everything and everyone. And Wally doesn’t know how to feel about it. Even though he didn’t take off his mask, things have calmed down between them. Between all of them.  

Wally wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to trust him ever again, even if it turned out true that he hasn’t been selling them out. And it did. Robin hasn’t sold any of them out for any reason. But he won’t take off the mask, and Wally can’t help the way it turns what used to be a sore spot into a blister.  

But then Robin started looking at him like- like that, started smiling at him, started calling him dude and offering to help him train and- And Wally really wanted to be mean and petty and mad, but he couldn‘t help it anymore. Whatever Robin’s doing has thrown him completely off-course, and he can’t tell if it’s still manipulation or not. He really hopes it isn't. 

The microwave dings, and he scrambles up to answer the call, nearly burning his hands on the still-hot bag. A brush of wind caused by him, and everyone has their very own bucket of popcorn in-hand. Whoever has the remote starts scrolling through options on the TV. It pauses on Jaws, for a second, meaning it’s probably Raven. 

Wally’s eyes flash over to the hallway at the first sign of movement. Robin steps out calmly, like he’s not in the most casual outfit Wally’s ever seen on him – a pair of flannel pants and a loose blank black shirt. Wally’s never seen this much of his neck before. Like, he can actually see collarbone . And his hair is swept to the front like he doesn’t have any product in it anymore.  

He's still got the dumb mask on, though. It makes him stiffen, but not enough to not hold up the last bucket. “Popcorn,” he says.  

Robin hums, stepping forward to take it. He turns around, clear that he's going to sit on this part of the couch. Wally curls in on himself reflexively. Yet, despite the fact that Kori is right there, between the two cushions that lay between him and her, Robin chooses to sit on the one next to Wally. It surprises him, because he's definitely caught him making goo-goo eyes at Kori before, but Robin settles next to him, pulling his legs up and stretching his arms against the back of the couch. His pants are a little too big for him, the legs bunching up at his ankles. His hand, loosely relaxed against the back cushion, is very close to Wally’s shoulder. 

Oh, man, the suit really doesn’t compensate for anything . All that muscle really exists. 

“What are we watching?” Robin asks, sounding just a little too relaxed to actually be relaxed. 

“We were waiting for you to do the deciding,” Kori tells him. 

“Oh,” he says. “I like detective movies. Action movies.” 

Garfield snorts at him. “No, really?” he teases.  

Robin shrugs, adding quietly, “I like rom-coms, too, but I didn't think anyone else would agree.” 

“What is the rom-com?” Kori asks. 

“It's a comedy about a romance,” Robin tells her. “People falling in love, and they make you laugh.” 

“That sounds intriguing.” Kori nods. 

 Wally looks at him. “Really?” he asks. “You like those?” 

Robin shrugs again, nodding. “They're very feel-good,” he says. 

“Oh.” 

“I am not watching that,” Raven says flatly. 

“I figured.” Robin smiles. 

See? Weird. 

What they really end up watching is the first Avengers movie, with that it applies to everyone in the room. Given that it’s already pretty late at night, throughout the movie, the team starts stretching out, getting way more comfortable. Somewhere near the end, people start falling asleep. When Wally glances over, Robin is curled sideways into the cushions, his head tipped forward. His curled hands are, like, three inches away from Wally’s thigh. 

By the end, only a few of them are still awake. Kori decides they should all sleep out in the lounge, so Wally helps her grab blankets and pillows. He’s the one that taps Robin awake, offering him a blanket. 

“Sleepover time,” he says. 

Robin groans quietly as he picks himself up. “We’re not all gonna fit on the couch,” he says. 

“You can sleep on the floor if you really want to,” Wally says sweetly. 

“I think I’m good.” He yawns, unfolding the blanket. 

Wally takes a second to zip around and pick up all the popcorn buckets. Robin shifts over to lay against the arm rest Wally had been leaning against, pulling the blanket over his shoulders. And for like, the three seconds Wally stares at him, he looks... soft. It’s a weird thought, putting an itch under his skin that he doesn’t know what to do with. 

“Need something?” Robin asks him dryly, completely ruining the image. 

Wally rolls his eyes. “Are you gonna take your mask off?” he says, almost out of reflex. 

Robin pushes himself up to look at him, frowning. “Please don’t bring that up again,” he asks. 

“No, I just-” Wally huffs. “You keep sleeping in it, you’re going to get a rash.” 

“The mask stays on,” Robin says firmly. “It might. But I’ll take spending time with you guys over taking it off and having to leave.” 

“Oh,” Wally says, and he doesn’t have any more arguments for that. He zips off to drag his mattress from his bed and arranges it on the floor in front of the couch. 

“I like your shirt,” Robin tells him softly as he’s laying out his comforter. Weighted, so he doesn’t move around so much. 

“Thanks.” Wally smiles, looking down at the Spider-man emblem on his chest. “You seen the new movie?” 

“Soon as it came out.” He grins. 

Wally practically buzzes at the news, barely remembering to keep his voice low. “Dude! It was so good! I loved it!” 

“It was really good,” Robin agrees, leaning over the couch to keep talking to him. They stay like that until both of them fall asleep. 

~~~~~

“KF! We gotta go, are you ready?” 

Wally tears the tie from his collar, somehow ending with three different knots in it. “No,” he pouts. “I can’t remember how to tie this thing.” 

“Can I come in?” Robin calls from the opposite side of the door. 

Wally sighs. “I guess,” he says, arms hanging at his sides in defeat. 

The door pushes open, and Robin steps in. Wally’s too busy trying to untangle the knots to look up at him. “Alright, hand it over,” Robin says, holding out his hand. “Has nobody taught you yet?” 

“No, I know,” Wally defends. “I just can’t ever remember.” 

Robin hums, pulling him closer by his collar. Wally's heartbeat spikes in his chest at how close it really puts him, only a few inches away, eyes widening slightly. The other doesn’t seem to notice the seconds he spends staring. And he knows it’s weird, because Robin definitely has a girlfriend, but holy crap he looks great right now. 

Wally’s never seen him in a suit before. The fabric of his jacket is gray and embroidered with floral sky blue. The suit is fitted, sitting perfectly against his broad shoulders, flat against his chest. His bow tie – that makes it a tuxedo, not a suit, doesn’t it? – is the same fabric as the jacket, tied perfectly without a single wrinkle. His hair is slicked back, way fancy compared to the way it usually lays. What Wally really gets stuck on, though, is the mask on his face. Wally has never seen him without his classic black domino before now. He’s swapped it out with a masquerade mask, the same sky blue as the embroidery, that actually stretches further down his cheeks and up his forehead than his domino does. It’s painted with silver and decorated with darker jewels and threads. The angle of his cheekbones are enhanced, as well as the angle of his jaw. The colours contrast beautifully against the lighter brown of his skin. Wally’s glad his own skin is a darker brown, because it’s helping hide the blush rising to his cheeks. 

The startling thing is really his eyes. Because Wally can see his eyes, a dark brown colour, a pattern of angles spiking out from his pupil. There’s a small discoloured ring around his iris- “Are you wearing colour contacts?” he asks abruptly. 

“Yes. Brown ones.” Robin pops his collar up, threading the tie around the back. 

“What colour are your eyes usually?” 

“Blue.” 

“What, really?” 

“No,” Robin says, but his mouth quirks up teasingly as he starts flipping the tie around reflexively. 

“Jerk,” Wally retorts, but there’s no real heat behind it. His eyes draw down to Robin’s hands, watching him create the knot impressively quickly. “Man, I couldn’t even do this on myself, how are you doing it on me?” 

“Practice.” Robin pulls at the smaller end in the back, tightening it up to Wally’s collar. The knot is, of course, perfect, as if it were done by a machine. He tucks the little part of the tie into the hold on the back of the bigger end, then pops his collar back down. Then he steps back for a moment. After running his eyes over Wally, he wrinkles his nose, reaching to fix whatever minute details he sees. Once he’s satisfied, he pats Wally’s cheek, ignores the way he stills, and turns away. “Put your mask on and let’s go, or we’re gonna be late.” 

Wally zips to apply his own masquerade mask, put his shoes on, and throw on his suit jacket and pretty little tie clip. He’s at Robin’s side before he’s even left the hallway, but all it earns him is a glare as Robin straightens out his appearance again. 

The target they’re at this party to befriend doesn’t show up until an hour in. Scarily, Robin is really good at this whole talking to people thing. His smiles are charming, his words are smooth, and he has just about everyone he talks to wrapped around his fingers. Where was this when he first joined the team? Though... maybe it’s better he never used it on Wally. 

“Tsst.” Robin nudges him subtly. “Target.” 

Wally looks where he slightly inclines his head, setting sights on him. “Let’s go talk to him,” he says, starting forward. 

“No,” Robin says, stopping him with a hand on his chest. “We shouldn’t just approach him. We’ll get farther if we meet on circumstance.” He eyes the guy. “He likes games. Let’s go start something at the bar.”  

“We’re not old enough,” Wally says. “We don’t have IDs.” 

“We’re not gonna drink, it’d impair us anyway,” Robin says dismissively. “I’m pretty sure I know one of the bartenders, they’ll keep quiet about it for us. If we can get him to drink, it’ll be easier for us, anyway.” 

Robin moves towards the bar, smoothly weaving around people. Wally follows behind, keeping close. He takes a spot at the bar like he’s been to every party like this that’s ever existed, leaning forward until one of the bartenders notices him. “Hey, Ray,” he says once they catch his eye. “I want to ask a favour.” 

The person, Ray, tips their head until their eyes light up with recognition. “Hey, Richie! I haven’t seen you in a while. You got taller. How’s your dad doing?” 

Robin rolls his eyes. “He’s fine. Pain in the neck as always, and not getting any smarter. But, y’know, he’s good sometimes. I like your haircut, by the way. It looks good.” 

“Thank you.” They smile, running their hand over the mowhawk-mullet cut they have. “Right, whaddaya need?” 

Robin leans in, covering his mouth from the side with his hand. “You know I’m not old enough to drink,” he says. “But me ‘n’ my friend want to build up a reputation. We’re going to start a modified game of beer pong, would you mind helping us out with it? The end goal is to get more people to join. Liven up the party a little.” 

Ray considers, then shrugs. “Sure,” they say. “I was gettin’ bored, anyway. And, lucky for you, we happen to have some red solo cups. You want real beer for everyone else?” 

“Please,” Robin says, winking. 

“On it, boss,” they say, giving him a salute. 

Twenty minutes later, Robin is preforming a trick shot off-the-wall with the ping pong ball Ray found for them. It, of course, lands in one of Wally’s cups, and the crowd that's formed around them cheers loudly. Wally groans good-naturedly, picking the ball out of the cup and draining it. This one was just root beer – not that anyone but Robin new that. 

Wally manages to notice their target sliding up to them first, giving Robin a look. “I’ll take two if anyone can match my next throw!” he announces, subtly turning the target to Robin. He’ll be better at the interrogation part. He keeps an ear open as the conversation starts, even as he directs a guy to stand next to the counter and makes a shot off his chest, meaning he drinks the cup it landed in.  

“How’d a couple of kids get into this party?” their target, Marcus Matt, asks, sidling up next to him. 

“Special contacts,” Robin says coolly. “Important people.” 

“What’s your name?” Marcus asks.  

“Richie.” 

“How come I've never heard of you, then, Richie?” 

“I don’t know.” Robin shrugs. “Maybe you’re hanging around the wrong people.” 

The guy snickers, the two friends behind him making offended faces. “Maybe,” he agrees. “I’m Mark.” 

“Mm. You want in on the next round, or what?” 

Maybe Robin really does have superpowers, because he makes quick friends with Mark – who honestly has the worst personality – and gets him with the ping pong ball enough to look fair but get him loose-lipped. Wally doesn’t even have to do anything but keep playing the game and keep up the atmosphere they’ve created. 

Eventually, Mark is loose enough that he’s shucked his jacket, his mask, and his inhibitions. Robin keeps him talking, and they’re getting all the information they need out of him. Unfortunately, getting him to talk about his dad – the villain of the week they’re trying to get to – is getting into more unsavory topics, too. “Sure, my dad’s been there, but it never feels like he’s really there. Not emotionally, you know?” 

Robin catches Wally’s gaze long enough to roll his eyes. Wally thinks he likes all the little emotions he can see now that he can see Robin’s eyes. “I get it,” he says, sounding surprisingly genuine. “My own father is like that too. I think you need to just tell him. That you’d like a better emotional connection.” 

Mark clicks his tongue. “That work for you?” 

“Not really.” He shrugs. “I just stopped talking to him after that. Not worth the energy.” 

A ping pong ball hits the table in front of them. Mark can barely track it with his eyes, almost missing when he bumps Robin’s shoulder. “Who is your dad?” he asks. “I dunno anything about you. All these things I been talking about, and you haven’t told me anything about you.” 

“My life is not as interesting as everyone seems to think,” Robin responds, rolling his eyes again. 

“What’s your last name? Where do you come from? What're you doing at this party? Who’s your friend?” 

“Not relevant,” Robin says, annoyed, “not relevant, to have fun, and his name is Danny. Anything else that doesn’t matter?” 

“You haven’t even taken your mask off,” Mark says, reaching out. “Everyone else has-” 

Robin snatches his wrist, posture stiffening and demeanor icing over. “Do not touch my mask,” he says coldly. “Listen. You’re pretty wasted. We’ll call you a ride home, okay?” 

“Uh, Josh is supposed to-” Mark looks around, but his friends left a while ago. “Oh.” 

“Come on.” 

Wally excuses himself from the guy he’s been locked in a trick-shot challenge with, following Robin outside. The ride takes less time to pull up than it really should, meaning Robin probably ordered it before he said he would and it wasn’t a direct reaction to Mark asking about him. Still, Robin looks pissed off as he cuts off Mark’s protests and pushes him into the car, his posture still cold and stiff. 

As they watch the car drive off, Robin says, “We have all the information we need.” 

“I figured you wouldn’t send him off if we didn’t,” Wally says. Robin seems to relax a little. “Let’s go, then?” 

Robin nods. “I’ll call someone for us, too.” 

“Can we walk for a bit, actually?” Wally asks. “We get far enough away and I can run us back.” 

Robin gives him a little smile that cements in his brain instantly. “Sure, dude.” 

While they’re walking, Wally comments, “I’m not sure you really needed me on this mission, Rob.” 

“Sure I did,” Robin says easily. “You were keeping the vibe up. I couldn’t have done that and kept him talking at the same time.” 

“You totally could’ve,” Wally teases. 

“Probably.” He shrugs. “But I wanted you there. You made it a lot more tolerable.” 

Wally tips his head. “You don’t like parties?” 

“Not really. Not like those ones,” he responds. “I’ve been to a lot. They’ve lost their dazzle.” 

“Oh.” 

“You make it better, though,” Robin tells him, bumping his shoulder. “I’d take you to all of them if I could. You could be my arm candy.” 

Something expands in his chest like baking soda in vinegar at the implications of that. He clamps down on it before it can escape his throat. Robin has a girlfriend. “You think I’m pretty enough for that?” he teases. 

Robin tips his head considerately. “Clean up your hair a little and put you in some taller shoes, I think you’d do just fine,” he declares, winking to let him know he’s joking. 

Wally clutches his heart in offense. “Excuse you! I’ll have you know, Barry says I have at least two more growth spurts waiting for me.”  

Robin grins. “Oh really? Maybe Barry overshot a little.” 

Wally elbows him in the shoulder, snickering. The night is cold, cold enough that he’d be shivering without a jacket on. After a minute, he says softly, “I guess it’s kind of nice you’re not so touchy about the mask with just us.” 

“Wally…” Robin sighs. 

Wally waits for him to say something else, but he doesn’t. “I’m just saying, it’s nice to know.” He shrugs. “That was an interesting choice of names, though. You could’ve picked any of them, and you picked Richie? That can’t be your real name, right?” 

“No.” Robin snickers. “It’s not.” 

“Good. I don’t think it could possibly get worse than that.” 

“Oh, I guarantee it could,” Robin tells him. 

“What? Nuh uh. No way.” 

“You have no idea.” 

~~~~~

Wally wakes to… something. In his scramble to find out what, his mind jumping to a sudden mission, he tangles himself in his already-tangled sheets. Trying to get out only tangles him more. His door opens, Robin stepping inside. He doesn’t tell him to get up, though, just closes the door to a crack and stands uncertainly. 

Wally relaxes a bit. “Oh, hey, Rob,” he slurs quietly. “What’s, uhhh… what’s up?” 

He shakes himself awake within the split second it takes Robin to answer. “I… need some help,” he says. 

Robin? Admitting he needs help, much less asking for it? Wally straightens up. “Yeah, yeah, whatever you need,” he says. 

“I haven’t showered in like, three days,” he says. “I don’t think I can sleep without one. I don’t think I could reach much with my injuries.” 

“Oh,” Wally says intelligently. “It’s like…” He checks his clock. “Three in the morning.” 

Robin shrugs. “I’m a bat,” he says simply. 

“You’re a bird,” Wally corrects. He takes a few slow seconds to extract himself from his own blankets, then zips over to his side. “Let’s go, then.” 

In the bathroom, Robin turns to him. “Could you...” He gestures to his shirt stiffly. 

Wally, of course, steps up to help him pull his shirt off. “Did Kori help you put it on?” he asks. 

“No, actually.” Robin hisses as he lifts his arm over his head. “I put it on myself. But I had more painkillers and it took like twenty minutes.” 

“Oh,” Wally says. “...Why didn’t you use a button up?” 

Robin turns abruptly to stare at him. “Wally, you’re a genius,” he says.  

Wally laughs. “What, you didn’t think of that?” 

“If I had, I’d be wearing it.” 

“What a moron,” he teases. He zips to his own room and swaps Robin’s shirt out for one of his own. It’s not like they don’t already share clothes sometimes. “There. For when you’re out.” 

“Thanks, Walls,” Robin says, smiling at him. 

“No problem, dude. But we’re not done yet.” 

Robin sighs, nodding. Wally holds his arm to steady him as he carefully gets out of his sweatpants. Wally turns the shower on in the middle of it, to hopefully get the water to warm up a little. Robin makes several small noises of pain as he tries to step out of the legs, and it makes Wally wince too. “Do you need any more painkillers?” he asks worriedly. 

“I can’t for another few hours,” Robin grits. “It’s fine.” 

“Okay,” Wally says uncertainly. The water’s warm now. He plugs the bottom. 

With Robin only in his boxers now, all his injuries are well and truly on display. Burns up his right side, scrapes up his left, stitches against his temple and side, bruises everywhere else. It’s been a week since they had to drag him out of that building, long enough for the injuries to have scabbed over and not need bandages, but still prone to breaking and bleeding if stretched too much. And it hurts like a bitch; Wally can tell. He looks gnarly, pale compared to his usually brown tone, skin marred with so many injuries, black ringing his eyes and poking out from underneath his mask. Especially since he hasn’t showered for a while, giving him greasy, flat hair compared to how he usually does it, oily skin, and obvious discomfort. He looks like hell, and Wally hates it. 

Wally continues to hold his arm as he brings his leg over the side of the tub, wobbling as he steps in. He holds the scabbing under his fingertips lightly so as not to hurt him. Once Robin’s in, Wally pulls him down gently until he sits in the water.  

“I hate this, for the record,” Robin tells him. And he sure looks like it. Wally very strategically chooses not to say anything. Really, it was a miracle Robin asked anything of him at all. 

As the thankfully gentle stream of water runs over him, Robin glumly rests his chin on his knees and lets Wally get him wet. He stays stiff the whole time, flinching every now and then at the water and gritting his teeth.  

Once the water has sufficiently soaked through his hair, Wally kneels at the edge of the tub. “Head back,” he says, grabbing the shampoo. 

Robin tips his head back, his shoulders relaxing a little. Wally speed-lathers the soap, then reaches out and starts gently soaking it into Robin’s hair. He keeps his touch light, careful of the stitches at his temple and other head wounds he might still have. It must be working, how he's trying to keep it painless, because Robin is relaxing more, leaning into his touch as he works the shampoo into his hair.  

“Have you brushed this?” Wally asks, hitting his fifth tangle.  

“Not really,” Robin admits. “I had Kori do it, but it gets tangled easier when it's greasy like this and I haven't done it myself.” 

He sounds a little apologetic, but Wally taps him on the shoulder with a hum as reassurance. He pulls the shower head down to wash the shampoo out, keeping it far enough away that it's still light against his skin. When the bubbles have cleared out, he reaches for the conditioner, running his fingers through the tangles to get them out after the conditioner loosens them up. 

Smoothing his hands through Robin’s newly untangled hair, Wally looks down at him. He looks completely at ease, expression relaxed, head tilting to the side, practically melted into the side of the bathtub. He looks better than he has in a while, and Wally is getting softer every second he keeps looking at him. A sudden want to press a kiss to his temple bubbles up inside of him, and he pushes it down, tapping Robin’s shoulder.  

“You want to get your body?” he asks. 

Robin tips his head. “No,” he decides. “You should do it. Just be gentle.” 

“Alright, dude, but you gotta tell me if it hurts,” Wally says uncertainly, grabbing a washcloth and the body wash. 

He only complains once, when Wally swipes the cloth over his shoulder and the threads catch on a scab that’s already been split. It causes it to bleed again, but only a little, clotting again pretty easy. Robin gets his own legs, and at that point, all that’s really left is his face. Wally eyes his domino. “You should really take the mask off and clean under it,” he says. 

Robin’s shaking his head before he’s even done talking. “I’m not taking it off.” 

“When’s the last time you did? When’s the last time you washed under it?” 

“The mask stays on,” he says firmly. 

“I’m not asking for you to let me look, Rob. Just to wash under.” 

Robin snorts. “What, you’re gonna go stand in the corner and close your eyes?” 

Wally shrugs. “If you want me to. Or I could just leave.”  

“No.” Robin shakes his head again. “Not happening.” 

“Rob,” Wally says firmly. “You said you trust me.” 

“Wally-” 

“No, listen. If you do trust me, then you have to trust me not to look. I promise I will not break your trust and look at you while you don’t have your mask on.” 

Robin studies him for a minute, a little frown on his face. Then he deflates, nodding. “Alright, fine,” he says. “Just… could you get me a towel? So I can put it back on.” 

Wally hums, zipping to grab it. He sits down at the base of the tub, folding his legs and closing his eyes. “Not looking,” he says. “Tell me when you’re done.” 

Wally hears the splash of water as Robin re-dips the washcloth. He lets out a hiss of pain a few seconds later, then again. “You okay?” Wally asks, furrowing his eyebrows. 

“Yeah,” he hears Robin respond. “Just… a rash. I shouldn’t have kept it on so long.” 

“It feels like you always have a rash,” Wally says. “You should try lotion or something.” 

“I have lotion,” Robin responds. “It works pretty well, actually.” 

“You should start using it, then.” He snorts.  

After a few minutes, Robin says quietly, “I’m done.” 

Wally blinks his eyes open, lifting back up onto his knees. “Better?” he asks, met with black domino.  

“Yeah, actually,” Robin says. “Thanks.” 

Wally smiles at him. “All good, then? Wanna dry off?” 

“Yep,” Robin grunts, pulling himself up. Wally holds his arm again as he steps out.  

He helps a little bit as Wally carefully pats him down with a towel, but it’s mostly Wally. The fibers must be rough on his wounds – he grits his teeth every so often when the fabric scrapes too hard against him. Wally keeps gentle as best he can, even though it takes longer. Once he’s ruffled Robin’s hair with the towel, he's dry, except for his boxers. Wally closes his eyes and turns around while he changes those, and then offers his arm for balance again as he pulls sweatpants back on. He pulls on Wally’s button-up by himself, only sighing a little as it brushes against his shoulders. 

“Thank you,” Robin tells him, carefully swiping a hand through his hair. “I feel a lot better. Sorry for waking you up.” 

“No problem.” Wally smiles. “I’m glad you asked me for help. Sleep good, okay? I’ll make sure no one wakes you up any time soon.” 

Robin smiles back. “Goodnight, Wally.” 

“’Night, Rob.” 

~~~~~

“Then I pulled the lever. Well, actually, I saw him try to shoot at BB again first, and I pulled the lever in response.” 

Wally waits a few seconds for Robin to finish typing what he said. “Then the machine started sparking, short-circuiting and stuff, and the pipes had already been broken when he threw Garfield into them, and with the sparks and the gas the whole thing blew up-” 

He pauses abruptly, realizing he hadn’t actually heard Robin typing. Glancing over, Robin is now entirely still where he’s stretched out on the end of Wally’s bed, fingers resting on the keyboard but not actually moving. He was exhausted from the mission – Wally could tell by the way he was moving, how he laid down on Wally’s bed instead of sitting. Now, even his head was tipped back into the mattress. He’d fallen asleep. 

Wally shuts his mouth, letting him fall deeper.  He’ll wake up if he’s not careful. He pitters around his room for a minute or two, waiting – then, when he’s sure Robin is no longer just barely over the line of unconsciousness, he carefully steps over and slowly, slowly takes the laptop out of his hands. Robin doesn’t wake, and he can’t help a small, soft little smile as he retreats back to the head of his bed.  

When he’s typed up his report on his own, Robin starts moving again just as he stops. “Wally,” he groans, rolling over and reaching towards him. “Give it back.” 

“No need,” Wally quips, shutting the laptop. “I finished the report.” 

Robin grunts at him. “Gotta get everyone else.” 

“Everyone else is asleep,” Wally tells him gently. “They’re exhausted. You’re exhausted. I’m exhausted. You can get the full report tomorrow, okay? You should rest now.” 

“No one’s gonna remember,” he says, slightly whiny. Wally’s never heard Robin whine before. 

“They will. They’ll remember the important stuff, and that’s all you need.” 

Robin takes in a long breath, then lets it out even longer. “Fine,” he says. “Tomorrow. You’re so irritating. Making good points.” 

Wally laughs. “Do you want me to carry you to your room?” he asks, teasing.  

“No,” he murmurs. “Too far. I’ll stay.” 

Wally blinks, surprised. “You want to sleep in my room?” Robin hums his agreement. “Okay, well I’m not sleeping on the floor for you, so.” 

“Bed holds two,” Robin says, like it’s obvious. He starts pulling himself towards the other side at the head of the bed, either not noticing or not caring about Wally’s gob smacked look. 

They’re friends, he’d call them good friends, but- Isn't sleeping in the same bed a little too close? Not that it would bother him, but- That's a boundary most people have. Isn’t it? And with Kori... How would she feel? 

Robin tries to lift up his sheets, and Wally smacks them back down automatically. “You are not sleeping in my bed in your uniform,” he says. 

Robin groans at him. “Room’s too far,” he says, definitely whining now. 

Wally rolls his eyes, zipping for his own closet. “There you go,” he says, dumping a spare set of clothes on him. 

Robin groans again, but actually pulls himself up to change. Wally turns away respectfully as he starts pulling off his clothes, even if he’s definitely seen him without his uniform before. In the meantime, Wally changes into his own pajamas, a set designed after Spider-man's suit. 

When he turns back around, Robin is climbing back into his bed, but he doesn’t have the shirt on, just the pants. He yawns, murmuring, “Nice pajamas,” as he pulls up the covers and swings his legs up. 

“Thanks. I have a way cooler Miles Morales set, but it’s in the wash,” he says, pulling an exaggerated sad face. He watches Robin lay the blankets over his body, settling down into Wally’s other pillow. “Uh, Rob... You gonna put a shirt on?” 

“Just get in the bed, Wally,” Robin groans, lazily patting Wally’s pillow. 

Wally shakes his head, zipping to flick off the light. He lifts his side of the covers, climbing in. Once they settle, Robin tucks the covers under himself, snuggling into them like a bug. Wally can practically feel all his organs melting inside of him, and he bets Robin doesn’t even know how cuddlable he looks right now. The way his shoulders are slightly hunched up, his face half-hidden in the pillow, the rest of his body wrapped in Wally’s blankets, the adorable little scrunch of his nose with the way his mask is digging into his skin. Wally frowns, tapping his shoulder. 

“Hey, do you want to take your mask off?” Wally asks him. “I promise I won’t look.” 

“I’m good,” Robin murmurs. 

“Alright. You just look uncomfortable.” 

Robin groans, stirring from the blankets he’s tucked under. “Shut up, Wally. Just go to sleep.” He reaches out, grabbing Wally’s arms and yanking towards him. “I’m tired.” He pulls Wally into his chest, his bare chest, wrapping his arms around him and tucking his chin over his shoulder. 

“Uh... Rob-” 

“Wally. Zip it.”  

“Robin-”  

“I’m going to poison your freaking corn flakes tomorrow. Shut up and sleep.” 

Given that Robin has no interest in even letting him protest how close they are, Wally gives in, wrapping his arms around Robin’s back. He shifts them until he’s comfortable, which ends up tipping Robin more on top of him than beside him. He’s warm, though, really warm, and Wally doesn’t think he could be more content if he tried. 

~~~~~

A scream rips out of his throat so violently it ravages his throat like a cornered wild animal trying to escape. It hurts so bad, the warm buzz of electricity he used to welcome now red-hot and burning, striking through him and leaving a pain like he’s being ripped apart at an atomic level. He thinks he’s dying, he knows he’s dying but he’s not actually dead yet because he can still feel the pain licking at his skin and climbing up his veins and suffocating his lungs and smothering his brain. He can feel his nerves being pulled out of his body like barbed string, catching on his muscles and ripping at his tissue. God, he wishes he was just dead, because he’s screaming and he’s writhing and none of it is relieving the agony crawling beneath his flesh. It goes on forever; It’s all he can feel, all he can think, all he can comprehend.  

When it’s over, he doesn’t know, because he’s been lost to unconsciousness. He doesn’t feel the arms around him and he doesn’t hear the panic in the voice calling his name. 

It still hurts when he wakes up. Coming back to himself is a mess of confusion and tears and weak flailing. Hands grab at his wrists, pinning him down to the bed as he whines and cries and screams something indecipherable. The pain eases a little eventually, when he stops moving so much. The hands holding him down never touch his chest.  

Other sensations start coming to him, trickling back in like ice melting. The feeling of sticky tears on his cheeks. Soft fabric curled beneath his fingers. The hands that have moved to hold his own. The voice gently talking to him. 

“Wally, you’re okay. You’re okay, you’re in the medical ward and I’m right here. I’m right here and you’re going to be fine.” 

That’s his uncle’s voice. Relief crashes through him so hard it makes his eyes sting again. 

He swallows, his throat dry and dusty, the skin scratching against itself. “Barry?” he croaks, the word cracking off into nothing halfway through. 

“Yep. I’m right here, Wally.” The hand holding his squeezes, thumb rubbing over his skin. 

His eyes are sticky, and heavy, and it hurts to try to open them. “Barry,” he says desperately, trying to form enough words. “It hurts.” 

Very intelligent. 

“I know,” Barry says softly. “I know it does. I’m sorry, kiddo. You’ll be okay.” His voice quivers, and Wally’s hand lifts, lips pressing against its back. 

Wally curls towards his hand, squeezing his eyes tighter against the burning pain that flashes across his body. Barry reaches out, running his hands through his curls. It helps a little with the physical pain, but it helps a lot more with how upset he feels. 

When he feels like he can, he struggles to open his eyes, vision blurry. Barry is right next to him, hunched over the cot he’s lying on, their hands pressed to his forehead. If Wally didn’t know better, he’d say he looks like someone who’s praying. “What happened?” he asks. 

Barry looks at him with the smile Wally knows, except it’s marred with tension that still can’t hide the tremor to his lips and wet, worried eyes. “Tell me how you feel first,” he says. 

“Thirsty,” Wally whispers. “Ow.” 

“I bet.” Barry squeezes his hand, the smile flickering. He stands, moving across the white room to reach for a cup – slowly, even for a normal-person speed. Why isn’t he going fast? He comes back with what looks like juice. “You can’t move much, so I’m going to help you, okay?” 

He pulls Wally to sit up a little bit, closer to the edge of the bed. Then he holds the cup out, a straw swirling against the rim, waiting for Wally to reach up a shaky hand and hold it too. He’s glad he does, even if Barry’s the one actually doing all the holding, because he hates the feeling of not being able to take care of himself. The juice is like heaven on his tongue, sweet and chasing away the dryness. 

“What do you remember?” Barry asks after he drains the cup. 

Pain. A lot of pain. 

“Just... I don’t know. The guy we were fighting?” 

“Yeah.” Barry nods, but as he does so, the smile slips from his lips and his eyes get sparklier and he dips his head to try to hide it. He reaches for Wally’s hand again. “Yeah. Listen to me, Wally. I’m going to do everything within my power to make sure you’re going to be okay, alright? I don’t care. Whatever it takes. I promise.” 

Dread grows in Wally’s stomach with every word he says. “Tell me what happened,” he says. 

Barry squeezes his eyes shut, his fingers tightening. “He took your speed,” he says, voice hitching on the words. “Almost all of it. The machine he used to do it was radioactive. It... basically gave you super cancer. The speed you have left is killing off the cancer cells, healing the radiation damage, but- But it’s not going fast enough. Your body is keeping you alive right now, but the cancer and radiation... It’s- It’s killing you faster than your body can heal.” 

The world slows down around him as he absorbs this information. A weight settles over him, something sinking through him. Disappointment? Dread? He doesn’t know. 

“Listen to me, Wally,” Barry says, gripping his hand with both of his own. “Caitlyn’s already working on it. I swear to you, you are not going to die. Do you understand me? We have several leads to follow, a lot of things to try. You’re going to be fine. We’re going to try giving you some of my cells tomorrow, see if my cellular regeneration won’t transfer over to you and help you out. Blood transfusion, cellular donation, whatever it takes. I swear on my life you’re going to be okay.” 

Wally takes a shaky breath. Their blood isn’t compatible, and they both know it. “Okay,” he says. “Okay, Barry. I believe you.” 

“You’re not dying while I’m still alive,” Barry promises, pressing his forehead to their hands. 

Wally learns he’s dying, and it takes Robin three days to answer Barry’s request to come visit him. 

He bursts into the room dramatically, shoving past Cisco and Iris. “Woah, kid, you can’t just-” Cisco protests, Robin ignoring him. 

“Wally!” he exclaims once setting sights on him, running to the side of his bed. He hovers above him, obviously concerned about touching him. 

“Walls, do you know this kid?” Iris asks incredulously. 

“Yeah,” Wally smiles, reaching out for him. “It’s Robin. My best friend.” Not that they’d be able to tell. He’s in civvies except for that dumb mask. 

“Oh, so that’s why the...” Cisco gestures to his own face, in the general shape of a domino. “Got it. Is he clean?” 

“He’s not gonna get me sick, if that’s what you’re asking,” Wally rasps. “Well. Sicker.” 

“You’re immunocompromised now,” Iris reminds him. 

“He’s clean,” Wally tells them. “Not all Gothamites are dirty. That’s a... something assumption.” 

“Discriminatory,” Robin pipes up. 

“Sure,” Wally agrees. 

Cisco eyes Robin with dramatic suspicion. “I still don’t trust him,” he says. “Yell if you need something, Wally.” 

“Don’t strain yourself,” Iris tells him, lips tense with worry. 

“Promise,” Wally tells them, eyes dragging lazily as he watches them leave and shut the door. 

Robin sits down heavily at the edge of his bed. “I’m so sorry, Wally,” he whispers. “I was dealing with a lot of stuff and I didn’t see your message until yesterday. I’m sorry I didn’t come earlier.” 

“It’s okay,” Wally tells him, reaching out. “You’re here now. I just wanted to see you.” 

Robin reluctantly pulls back from his hands. “You’re hurt,” he says, like Wally doesn’t know that. “I don’t think you should be moving around too much.” 

“I’ve waited three days to see you,” Wally says firmly. “Three days for you to give me a hug. Do it, or I'm sending you back out.” 

Robin only laughs a little, slowly and cautiously leaning down to wrap his arms around him, careful of the wounds still stretched taut against his chest. Wally leans into it, tears pricking at his eyes. Robin holds him firm, but loose, and so, so careful. His chest shakes a little between Wally’s arms, telling him just how much he’s lost his composure. “You look like crap,” he says, but it doesn’t sound like teasing. It sounds like solemn acceptance. 

“I look handsome,” Wally says, smiling tiredly. He knows he looks like shit – he's seen himself. Gray skin, sunken cheeks, his body thin and his muscles being eaten away. He knows. He’s exhausted, in pain, and too weak to even sit up in his bed anymore. He wishes he wasn’t selfish enough to make Robin see him like this, but he had to talk to him. He’s needed this hug more than anything. He’s needed Robin more than he’ll know. 

“Tell me what happened,” Robin whispers, fingers slightly digging into the skin of his back. 

Wally sighs, reluctantly letting go. “Me and Barry were fighting this guy,” he starts, “and he managed to get me. He was after our speed, and Barry tried really hard to find me in time, but the guy stuck this thing on my chest.” He grunts, pushing the covers under his ribcage to show off the circle of marks on his chest. The thing had sharp, metal clasps that dug into his chest and then curled, sealing it tight to his skin. “He... sucked my speed out, I guess. Most of it. Apparently, the machine he used was powered on an assload of radiation. The healing I have left isn’t killing off the cancer cells and healing the radiation damage quite as fast as it’s hurting me.” 

Robin’s face sinks into disbelief with every word he says. “Do you guys have a solution?” he asks. 

Wally knows perfectly well he’s not going to be able to lie to him. Even if he physically had the will to, Robin would see through him easier than air. “Barry’s trying everything he can,” he says. “It’s... not working. He’s convinced he can do something to save me, but you know how ruthlessly optimistic he can be.” 

“So you don’t think it’s going to work,” Robin says, heavy with disappointment. 

It’s harder than anything Wally has ever done in his life, shaking his head to tell him no. 

Robin physically droops, fingers straining out against the sheets of the bed. “Have they tried everything?” he asks desperately. 

“No,” Wally says gently, “but I think they’re getting close. Cisco almost suggested hitting me with super-powered lightning again to get my speed back.” 

“That doesn’t sound safe,” Robin says quietly. 

“Barry vaporized when they tried it on him, and I’m not sure the universe likes me enough to put me back.” 

Robin bites his lip, looking away. New waves of guilt roll over Wally – he's obviously not going to take this well, and Wally feels so, so selfish for telling him at all. Especially when he looks like this. But he knows that face; It’s his planning face, his how-to-fix-an-impossible-situation face. Somewhere between his stone-faced thinking expression and his determined as death expression. Sure enough, as he lays his head down barely in front of Wally’s stomach, he says, “I’m going to help. Whatever it takes to keep you alive, Wally. I promise.” 

“Okay, Robin,” he says weakly. “I believe you.” 

And he does. He knows Robin will try, just like Barry and Cisco and Caitlyn are trying. He knows they’ll do everything. He just can’t put false hope into that everything being enough. 

A few more days later, and he can barely move to shift on the bed, all his energy being taken up by keeping his lungs dragging in oxygen and his eyes half-open and his lips moving along to the movie playing on the TV. 

He knows Robin’s been working with Barry, ever since he got here, because he joins the steady rotation of people sitting at his side. He tells him about all the strings he’s pulling and all the favours he’s calling in, promising over and over again that he’ll find a way. Despite Wally’s thoughts on the matter, it makes him warm every time. They’re running out of time, though. And they all know it. 

The door opens, and Wally lazily drags his eyes away from the TV. Robin, staring at him through those stupid white lenses, steps in uncertainly. “What’s up, Walls?” he says. “Is it quick? I think we’re close to something, and I’d like to get back to it. Finish it up so we can help you.” 

Wally doesn’t acknowledge that like he usually does. “Close the door,” he rasps. The force of pushing enough air past his vocal cords to make a sound makes him sick to his stomach. It’s getting easier to shove the feeling down. 

Robin frowns at him, but shuts the door behind him anyway. He sits down at Wally’s bedside as he tips his head in a gesture. “Wally?” he says softly. There’s no tremor to his voice, but Wally can still tell he’s scared.  

A small smile twitches at his lips, his fingers slowly laying flat. Robin indulges him, intertwining their fingers. “Robin,” he says. 

“Yeah? Yeah, what’s up?” 

“If I told you my dying wish was for you to take off your mask,” he says slowly, “would you do it?” 

Robin’s hand spasms, his expression setting into a frown. “No,” he says slowly. “No, I wouldn’t.” 

Wally closes his eyes, tears pricking behind his eyelids. “Why?” he asks, not even trying to mask the crack in his voice. 

“Because you are not dying, Wally,” Robin says harshly. “If I do, I will still have to worry about someone yanking it out of your head, because you will be alive for me to. You get me? I’m not fulfilling a dying wish because you’re not dying.” 

“Robin,” he tries. “We’re running out of time.” 

“And I just told you, we’re on the brink of something.” Robin squeezes his hands. “You have to keep your faith in us.” 

“I have kept my faith,” Wally tells him. “I have. But I can barely- I can barely stay awake. I don’t wanna go out without really knowing you, Rob. Please.” 

“No,” Robin says coldly. “I’m not doing it.” 

“Please, Robin, please,” Wally asks, his composure falling apart around him. “I just want to see your eyes, your real eyes. I want to know your name. I don’t care about the rest of it, I don’t care about dying, but I don’t want to without seeing you. Please.” 

Robin’s expression spasms, like a hundred different emotions just rolled over him all at once. “I can’t,” he says, like it’s the hardest thing he’s ever done. “I won’t.” 

“Why?” Wally asks again. 

“You can’t ask me to do that! You can’t ask me to treat you like you’re already dead, because you aren’t! You aren’t. If you can’t believe in my ability to save you, then I don’t think you deserve it.” 

“Robin,” he says desperately, reaching out.  

Robin stands and steps out of his reach, chair scraping the ground. “No,” he says. “Not happening. I’m going to go finish this treatment, and then when you do pull through, you can ask me some other time. I won’t do it now. I won’t, so don’t ask me again.” 

“I don’t have any time left,” Wally says miserably. Robin turns around with a huff and grabs for the door. “You’re going to let me die without knowing who you are? I can’t, I can’t. Robin-” 

“You are not dying,” Robin snaps, and he leaves, slamming the door behind him. 

“Robin!” Wally tries to call, but his voice cracks out at half volume and all he manages is a croaking whisper.  

He didn’t even get to tell him how he feels. He’s not going to get to tell Robin he loves him before he dies. 

The door doesn’t open back up. He doesn’t see Robin again. He barely has the energy to curl in on himself, and crying into the same white sheets he’s been laying on for days drains him enough to put him into a sleep he’s not sure he’s going to wake up from. 

~~~~~

The buzzing of his phone barely registers against his body with the lightning cracking around his skin. 

It persists, though, an incessant vibration in the pocket at his thigh, the sound of his ringtone flying off so quickly into the air around him that he can’t even hear it. He groans frustratedly, slowing down until he’s at a normal running pace that looks lame when he’s in uniform. He fishes his phone out of his pocket, taking the time to get his breathing back under control with the slower speed. The silent should’ve been on, he doesn’t know why it isn’t. He almost answers it before checking the name. Thankfully, the ID catches his eye before he can fully swipe the answer button. 

It’s Robin. 

Wally scowls, lifting his thumb. He’s been calling Robin for two months, and the asshole hasn’t picked up a single goddamn time for him. If he really wants to talk to Wally, he can come to him in person like a real friend, without hiding behind a stupid phone call. He lets it ring, the call screen blinking away as it goes to voicemail. 

The screen pops back up before he can even try to put it back in the pocket, Robin’s caller buzzing urgently at him. Wally rolls his eyes, mashing the answer button and flipping it on speaker. He zips up the fire escape of a building, up to a roof where no one can hear them. 

“What?” he snaps. “What do you need so badly you can’t come find me and talk?” 

“Benj,” Robin slurs, against a backdrop of noise, which immediately sets him on edge. Robin doesn’t make mistakes like calling the wrong person, and he’s used ‘Benjamin’ as a fake name before. “Hey. I need th’ pick-up y’promised.” 

“I don’t think I promised anything.” Wally frowns. “Where are you? What’s with all the noise?” 

“At th’ party, ‘member? I told you I was gonna go. ‘N’ you said you’d drive me home when I got wasted.” 

Is he faking the drunken slur? Why the hell would Robin actually be drunk? Why the hell would he be calling Wally after getting drunk when he’s been avoiding him? “Oh, did I? What if I’m busy? Maybe you should just call an Uber.” 

Someone in the background snickers. “He flakin’ on you?” they say. “I told you, we can drive you home.” 

“C’mon, Benj, please?” Robin says, whining. “I promise we can talk more when I’m sober. An’ my friends don’t think you’re real.” 

He actually wants to talk, then, huh? Weird way of doing it. He really could’ve just come to talk to him in person if he really wanted to. The friend mention, though... That’s a little concerning. Whoever that other voice was doesn’t sound very friendly. Despite how much Wally doesn’t like it, he knows Robin is really calling him to ask for help. Wherever he is, with those people, he doesn’t feel like he can get out by himself. If he really is drunk, Wally doesn’t want to leave him in the hands of someone else so skeezy-sounding. 

“Okay,” Wally says. “Okay, I’m coming. Tell me the address, again? I don’t think I remember.” 

“I’ll text you,” Robin promises. 

“Okay,” Wally responds. “Eight minutes.” 

“Thanks,” Robin sings. “Bye. Love you.” 

He hangs up. Very interesting detail to add on, there. 

He does, indeed, get the address, sent with three blue hearts tacked on the end. By the time it comes in, he’s already on his way home to change. He throws on some regular clothes, not quite caring what he grabs, then pulls up the address on Maps. He has super-speed, not magic location.  

When he finds the place – in a city neighbouring Gotham called Blüdhaven – it's this giant house, windows lit up with all kinds of coloured lights, music blaring loudly through the walls of the place. Wally winces, his senses already being ground into dust before he’s even inside. He can see a horde of people moving around inside through the windows. This isn’t going to be fun. 

It’s not too hard to get inside – he just pushes open the door and steps in. The people give him a weird look, and given the amount of them crowded in front of the door, they aren’t using the front. The combination of music and talking and yelling and noise grates in his ears and smushes gravel directly against his brain, exactly like he thought it would. He grimaces and goes looking for his friend. 

It takes a few minutes, with all the people he has to weave through and how he can’t use his speed, but he eventually finds Robin at the bar counter in the kitchen – because of course this rich-people house has a bar. Although, he regrettably supposes it’s more accurate to say Robin found him. 

A body stumbles over to him from the bar, practically tripping into his side. They’re wearing the most heinous outfit Wally has ever seen in his life – a pale green button-up shirt patterned with little leaves open over a bright orange shirt, the ugliest pink and yellow sweater tied around his waist, brown cargo shorts, and crocs, for whatever reason. Disgusting. This, paired with the sunglasses, slows down Wally recognizing him until he’s wrapped his arms around him and nuzzled into his collarbone. 

“Hey, babe,” Robin slurs, sending a shock of surprise down his spine. “Glad you got here so quick.” 

That makes Wally narrow his eyes suspiciously. His gaze catches on two guys glaring at him from the bar counter, a red solo cup between them. Something about them, and how much older they look, puts him so on edge he’s practically over the cliff. He loops his arm around Robin’s waist, pulling him closer protectively. 

"You his boyfriend?” one of the guys calls. 

“I am,” he answers without hesitation. “Who’re you?” 

“New friends.” The other shrugs. “We met him here. We played a game, and he had quite a few drinks. We offered to drive him home, but he insisted on calling you.” 

“He had a lot of drinks,” the first one agrees. “Like, a lot. He’ll be out of it for a while, so I’d be careful.” 

“Oh, yeah, the alcohol the host orders is really strong. It’s different. Don’t be too concerned if he gets super tired, that’s just how hard it hits.” 

“Uh huh,” Wally says, entirely disbelieving. 

Robin, leaning into him, cranes his neck to look at him. “Babe, let’s go,” he says. “I wanna go home.” 

“Alright,” Wally says, taking his arm and leading him back towards the door. 

Robin stumbles out into the open air, dropping the clingy act and practically falling off of him. Wally doesn’t let him get too far, though, and it’s good he doesn’t because Robin almost trips on the sidewalk. Wally’s never known him to be so unbalanced. Though maybe those ugly crocs are partially to blame. 

“Rob,” Wally says warningly, “you wanna tell me what happened?” 

“Please take me home first,” Robin says, sounding tired. Exhausted. 

“Fine,” he bites. “Don’t throw up.” He scoops him up as Robin mumbles another address.  

It lands him outside an apartment building. Robin takes a moment to buzz them in, then lets Wally zip them up to his floor. At his door, though, he shoves out of Wally’s arms and braces against the door, digging for his keys. Wally rolls his eyes as he follows him inside.  

“Why do you have an apartment? You’re still technically a minor,” Wally says. 

“It’s a safehouse,” Robin mutters. “I don’t live here.” 

“Where do you live, then? Since you haven’t been at the Tower for months.” His tone is a little snide, bite him. 

“Around.” Robin stumbles towards one of the doors, opening up to a bathroom. 

Wally huffs, irritated. “Whatever, dude, you wanna tell me what the hell happened? Why were you at a party? Why did you call me?”  

“I was being stupid,” Robin says. “Wanted to relax a little. Never been to a party with anything other ‘n’ champagne. Those two guys… They said they’d- they’d walk me through it. But they spiked my drink. I thought I was watching…” 

“They drugged you?” Wally says incredulously. He didn’t think he should mention that before now?  

“Mm. I think they’re… Serial. Do it a lot. Snagged their IDs. They’re real, I think.” He flicks two cards out into his fingers, falling in front of the toilet after Wally takes them. He flips through the cards. Definitely their faces, not so sure about their names.  

When he looks back up, Robin is throwing up . “What the hell, dude,” he exclaims, kneeling down next to him. 

Wally sits next to him until he’s done, a hand on his shoulder. When he stops, he looks about ready to collapse, head tipping towards the bowl. “Had to get the rest of the drug out,” he murmurs. 

He doesn’t resist Wally pulling him into his side, pressing his weight against him. Wally sighs. “Do you know what kind of drug it was?” he asks. 

“Standard, I think,” Robin answers, his head tipping down on Wally’s chest. “The… date-rape one. Exhaustion, slowness, muddles your head. Confuses you and messes with your inhibitions. It’ll… probably put me under soon. Sleep it off.” 

Wally nods, reaching out to tear off some toilet paper. Robin takes it from him and wipes his mouth, throwing it into the bowl. He flushes it for him. They’re quiet for a second, waiting for Robin to be ready to get back up. Well… Wally’s waiting. 

“Why are you still here?” Robin asks, his voice small. Wally’s never heard him sound… like that before. 

“What do you mean?” he asks. 

Robin is quiet for a second. When he looks down at him, his sunglasses have slid down a little, so he averts his eyes again. From what he saw of the rest of his expression, though, he’s frowning. “I called you for a pickup, not… anything else. You don’t have to be here anymore.” 

Wally nearly draws back at the words. “What, you want me to leave?” he asks sharply. 

“No. No, not like that, just- I didn’ think you’d want to stay.” 

He frowns. “Want to-? After you got drugged at a party? That’s not something I’m leaving you to deal with, Robin. Why do you think I would?” 

“’Cus you don’t like me,” Robin mumbles. 

“What are you talking about. You- No. You know what, I’m choosing to believe this is the drugs talking. Because there’s no way I’m hearing you tell me I don’t like you right now.” 

“Wally, you were dying and I-” 

“Nope. Shut your mouth, right now, before you dig yourself into a hole I’m not pulling you out of.” 

“No, listen. If you stay because I called you to ask for you to help me, then I’m going to feel guilty for making you take care of me because you shouldn’t have to and- And I don’t deserve it, okay? I shouldn’t have called you, I shouldn’t have asked you to help me, I shouldn’t have-” 

“Shut up, Robin, I mean it. Shut up right now and I might keep talking to you.” 

Wally loops an arm around his waist and hauls him up with him. He completely ignores Robin’s attempts to keep distance, pulling him snugly into his side and taking most of his weight. He manages to guess correctly at which of the other doors in the place go to a bedroom. He dumps Robin down on the mattress, pushing him to lay down. Robin barely manages to kick off those ugly crocs before Wally aggressively pushes the covers up over him. 

“What do you need?” he asks. 

“Nothing,” Robin murmurs. “Just to sleep.” 

“Okay. Sleep, then.” 

Wally leaves and shuts the door behind him. Irritation itches under his skin. This has definitely not helped his mood. He wants to run, so he does, speeding around the city a few times before heading back to his own. He just grabs more clothes, a blanket, and his wallet before heading back. 

He doesn’t care too much about not asking before crashing on Robin’s couch. He feels like he shouldn’t be allowed to complain. 

It’s pretty late at night. He was out running before the call to tire himself out so he could sleep, and the combination of going to get Robin and then getting him to bed made it even later. So he’s kind of exhausted – too exhausted to be mad enough at Robin to leave him alone completely. And definitely not mad enough to take the chance to trap Robin into a talk. 

Drugs are always at risk to do weird things, so Wally trudges back to the bedroom to check on Robin. He… left the lights on, when he dropped Robin in there, and the guy didn’t even get up to turn them off. He didn’t do much of anything, not even take his sunglasses off. Robin's heartbeat is slow and steady, his breathing even, and he’s- you know, not seizing, so. Wally sighs, flicking the lights off. He makes sure the room is completely dark before he slides off Robin’s glasses and pulls his sheets up over his shoulders. He doesn't look back as he leaves, knowing the light from the door is softly draping against his friend’s bare expression. 

By the time Wally hears Robin up and moving the next day, it’s eleven in the morning and Wally is cooking bacon on his stovetop. 

Footsteps shuffle on the tile. Wally doesn’t turn around, doesn’t even look up from his cooking. “I didn’t look,” he says stiffly, a little bit of ice leaking out despite how hard he tries to sound uncaring. 

He doesn’t hear anything for a second. When the footsteps start back up, they get quieter, not louder. He thought he had a better grip on his temper, but the thought of Robin trying to run away from him – again – snaps it faster than a rubber band stretched too thin. “Get your ass back here and sit down before I kick it into last week,” he says hotly, slamming his hands down on the counter. 

Robin looks like a deer caught in headlights under the nasty glare Wally’s sending him over his shoulder. He put the sunglasses back on. It makes him look stupid. One very aggressive, pointed look at the table has him reluctantly sliding over to it and taking a seat. 

“I can’t believe you promised we would talk, and then you tried to run again,” he snaps. 

Robin doesn’t make a sound. Wally flips over his bacon a last time, then looks back at him. He’s got his palms pressed to his eyes, sunglasses pushed up into his hairline. His very messy hairline, stringy in the way that tells you he had it gelled last night and didn’t wash it before sleeping on it. It’s- Wally is not going to call it adorable, because he’s still mad. He flicks his gaze away before he can be accused of staring.  

“Nothing to say for yourself?” he asks crossly, starting to pull the bacon from the pan onto a plate with a paper towel on it to soak up the grease.  

“What do you want me to say?” Robin says quietly. “I’m not going to tell you you’re wrong.” 

“Why not?” Wally snaps. “Because it’d be really nice to hear right now. I’d like to hear that you haven’t been avoiding me for the past two months on purpose. I’d like to hear that you weren’t ignoring my calls since the last time I saw you. I'd like to hear that you haven’t been avoiding the Tower specifically because you don’t want to see me. That’d be nice.” 

“Of course I wanted to see you,” Robin says desperately. 

“Why haven’t you, then?” Wally demands. “Why haven’t you picked up my calls? Answered my texts? Come to see me? I know you could’ve, so if you wanted to, why didn’t you?” 

He hears a tired sigh. “It’ll only make you more mad at me,” he says miserably. 

“No, you know what? Do you know what’s gonna make me mad? If my best friend keeps ignoring me and doesn’t tell me why.” Wally takes the plate and smacks it down on the table in front of Robin, leaning in close and hissing, “Eat.” 

“Wally-” 

“Now.”  

Robin wilts under Wally’s glare, obediently picking up a piece and nibbling on it. “You shouldn’t be cooking for me,” he says, sounding about as pathetic as a plastic bag stuck in the branches of a tree. 

“You are impossible!” Wally bursts angrily, stepping back before he does something stupid. “Of course I’m fucking cooking for you! You got roofied last night!” He’s yelling, now, throwing his hands up in a raging whizz of gestures. “You shouldn’t have to cook for yourself after that! I don’t care if you think I shouldn’t have to, you rat, I did it because I love you! Because that’s what friends do when they love each other! That’s not the part you get to feel guilty about!” He throws an angry finger pointed directly at Robin, who is sitting stiff as death. “Not when I’m sitting here wondering if you care about me even a little, wondering about it for months, because you won’t even pick up my calls and- And now that we finally have a chance to talk, you try to run away again!” 

Robin looks more and more devastated with every word he says, even though he really shouldn’t get to be like that over choices he made. “Wally, I didn’t- I tried to leave because I’m a coward, okay? I’ve always been a coward, I can’t- I really don’t want to have this talk, that’s why I’ve been avoiding you, that’s why I haven’t-” He grits his teeth against the emotion twisting his expression, barely taking time to breathe. “I love you, I love you, I love you- I love you, and I couldn’t face you again because I didn’t want to listen to you tell me how much you hate me. It wasn’t about you, Wally, even though it should have been, because you were the one who almost died-” 

He turns away, taking another dejected bite of bacon. “It’s because I’m selfish. I didn’t want to hear you tell me how much I hurt you, how much I disappointed you, how much I- You thought you were dying, and I told you no. I told you I didn’t want you to know who I am, and to you, that must’ve felt like I didn’t want you to ever know because you had a deadline and I can only imagine how that feels. So I didn’t come to see you because I didn’t think you’d want me to, I didn’t think there was even a possibility. And then I ignored your first call because I was scared, and I ignored them after that because- Because I’ve been the shittiest friend to you. How could you even want to talk to me after that? I told you no when you thought you were dying. That can’t- That’s not something you can just come back from.” 

Wally’s so mad he’s vibrating, electricity crackling down his skin. “You think that’s what I’m mad about?” he asks dangerously. “I don’t care that you didn’t do it. I don’t care about that anymore. That’s not what I’m still mad about. I’m mad that I found out I wasn’t dying, and then my best friend ignored me for two months. I don’t care that you didn’t take your mask off! I got my life back, and the most important person to me suddenly wasn’t in it anymore. You keep talking like- like you think I somehow deserve better than you, but I don’t care. I think I deserve you, and all I wanted was for you to come talk to me again. I just wanted my best friend back. That’s what I’m mad about, and you- You haven’t even realized it.” 

His anger and electricity sizzles under his skin, so bad his vision has started to blur. He can’t hold back anymore, and he zips out of the building, leaving a whoosh of wind behind him. 

Wally just runs. He runs until he can think about stopping, until he doesn’t need to anymore, until his head clears and he feels like he can talk a little more rationally again. Then he runs back. 

Robin is still moping at the table, dejectedly eating the last of the bacon, when Wally runs back in. The gust of wind at his arrival seems to surprise him, sitting up. He opens his mouth, but Wally kicks his chair and interrupts him. 

“Do you want to be my friend still, or no?” Wally demands. 

Robin shakes his head. “Yes, I do, of course I do,” he says. “But-” 

“Then be my friend. Do you understand? That’s all I want from you. Just be my friend. I don’t care what you did, I don’t care if you think I shouldn’t want it, because I do. And you owe it to me, okay? Just give me my best friend back.” 

Robin looks at him for a minute. He nods slowly. “Alright, Wally,” he says. “Whatever you want.” 

“Whatever I want.” Wally throws himself against Robin so fast it rocks the chair he’s sitting on, wrapping him in a hug. “Damn right, it better be whatever I want.” 

Robin doesn’t say anything. He just pulls him tight.