Chapter Text
If he could go back in time, and slap Wally West across the face before he ever got himself into this stupid situation, then he would. No matter how many scandals he had unintentionally started as the ward of Bruce Wayne, nothing quite compared to becoming an internet sensation for “surviving an attempted shooting with acrobatics”.
“Can you run that past my ears one more time Rob?” Wally’s voice said from the phone he had against his ear. Dick sighed, pinching his nose and leaning back against the couch.
“I said Walls, that this is all your fault! I have made four separate news headlines just this morning, because of that stunt you pulled last night.” he grumbled. Obnoxious giggles came from the other line along with the sound of wind whipping past, which likely meant that Wally was speeding across the city.
“Hey, I’m not gonna let you pin all this on me Dick. It wasn’t my idea to get drunk at a high society party!”
“But it was your idea to go on the roof!”
Through the phone, Wally’s small laughs were still audible, and Dick couldn’t help the small smile that crept its way onto his face as he ran a hand across his eyes.
Truthfully, it had been partially his own fault, but he wasn’t gonna admit that to Wally. It had been a party in Bludhaven, a Wayne Enterprises sponsored launch for the new clothing brand. Parties of this kind usually didn’t happen in Gotham’s sister city, but Bruce had used it as an excuse for Dick to do more networking with Bludhaven based businessmen.
The gesture was sweet, even if Dick wasn’t sure business was in his future.
He wasn’t expecting Wally to show up to his apartment before he left for the event. But he had barely taken onestep out of the bathroom, while pulling his dress shirt on, and was stopped in his tracks by the sight of red hair and broad shoulders standing in the middle of his living room.
Wally turned around, smiling when he saw Dick standing there.
“Hey boy wonder,” he acknowledged, bouncing on his heels as Dick froze. Then, his eyes drifted across his suit pants, and still unbuttoned shirt. “Going somewhere?”
That snapped Dick out of his momentary daze from seeing the smiling speedster in his living room. He shook his head, snorting as he began to do up his shirt buttons.
“You could say that.” he responded. Wally raised an eyebrow.
“Date?”
“Worse. Wayne Gala,”
Dick moved across the room, throwing his suit jacket over the couch as he reached to put on his dress shoes. “Something about a new clothing brand for the company. Bruce will be there, so I gotta put on a good face.” he explained, doing his laces and glancing up apologetically. “Sorry man. Did you need my help with something?” he asked, standing up to face his friend. Wally gave a half smile.
“Nope. I was just hoping to hang out for a bit, since you’ve been so busy lately.” Wally said, making Dicks eyes snap over to him. But he just waved a hand through the air, shrugging it off. “But you have fun. Just make sure to say hello to Bruce for me,” his friend said, flashing a grin at him.
Dick frowned, chewing on his lip for a moment, considering. After all, if Bruce could specifically request, ‘Reporter Clark Kent’, (who apparently Bruce had ‘suspicions’ about) to all events, then surely Dick could invite a friend to one, right?
“I mean,” Dick said slowly, putting his hands into his pockets. “You could just… come with me?” he suggested.
Wally’s eyes snapped over to him, green glittering in mischief.
“Really?” he asked, eyebrows raised.
Dick shrugged, smiling a bit. “Sure, why not. You still have that suit over here, and I could use the company to get through the boredom of small talk.”
”I’m great at handling boredom.”
“You’re really not KF.”
Wally huffed, clutching a wounded hand to his chest, even as a smile tugged at his lips. Then, he glanced behind himself towards Dicks room.
”Alright then, I’ll join you. But don’t take too long getting downstairs.” he said, pulling off his tennis shoes and already yanking the blue turtleneck over his head, as he headed into the room to get changed. Dick swallowed, eyes tracing the way his back muscles rippled, before ripping his eyes away to find his keys.
“Okay man, but you better call Barry to tell him you’re spending the night, I don’t need another angry phone call.” he said, averting his eyes and grabbing the keys. Wally peeked out from the door frame, shirt still off and eyes laughing.
”Aw, he loves you Wing. Go start the car, I’ll be there in a Flash!” he exclaimed with a wink, dissapearing into the closet. Dick rolled his eyes, heart skipping slightly.
“Still not funny!” He called back, even even as a small smile found its way onto his face. He wrenched the door open and headed down to start the car, willing his face to stay a normal temperature.
And if that temperature went up slightly when a flushed Wally West sped into his passenger seat, wearing a tailored dark suit and messy hair with the top button undone?
That was his business
——————
A couple hours into the gala, Dick was completely buzzed.
And it wasn’t even his fault! At 22 years old, almost every businessman in the place was making a joke about him barely looking old enough to drink. And every time, he would just laugh politely and take a sip of whatever was in his hand at the moment. Bruce had warned him against always doing that for this very reason, but he would still swear by the fact that it looked intimidating,
Across the room, he could see his father laughing and chatting it up with some woman that he didn’t recognize. Half the time he would try to talk to Dick and the people around him, but Bruce Wayne was always in high demand everywhere.
As for Wally, he was practically glued to Dicks side. Usually at events he would try to go solo for a bit, and maybe mingle slightly. But the second Dick had begun to have the drunken flush to his cheeks and light in his eye, Wally had practically Velcroed himself against him.
The gesture was sweet. Dick had told him before how drunk socialites made him a bit uncomfortable, especially when they felt the need to always have their hands on his arm or shoulder. Usually it never went beyond that, but when he was drunk, he didn’t like being touched by anyone but his dad, and maybe his siblings.
And Wally.
”It sounds like your son is headed in a good direction Mr Gruber,” Dick said politely, trying to keep his voice steady and his face thoughtful. The older businessman laughed, clapping him on the shoulder and Dick did his best not wince.
”Ah yes, he’s a good man my boy. Not unlike yourself, coming to these things for your pops. Good on ya son,” he slurred, patting Dicks are again. Dick smiled, because it was honestly a nice thing to say. But he had to bite his tongue, and fight the drunken urge to slap away his hand.
Of course, Wally noticed. His green eyes snapped to where the man was gripping Dicks arm, and the slightly uncomfortable look on the his face. Slowly, the redhead circled an arm around the acrobats waist, and pulled him closer in a faux attempt to remove the glass from his hand.
“I think that’s enough for us, yeah?” Wally said, smiling at Dick, and watching as the way had had pulled him away made the man drop his arm. Dick looked over to his friend, all the tension leaking from his shoulders and a hum of agreement escaping his mouth.
With Wally next to him like this, and a strong arm securely wrapped around his waist, he momentarily felt weightless, like he could melt into his friends side. He was warm, and he smelled nice, and he was being really nice. It took everything in Dicks willpower and common sense not to drop his head down and nuzzle into his neck.
Instead, he turned back to the couple in front of him with a smile, ignoring the odd look they were giving the hand gripping his waist. But before he could say anything else, his friend spoke up.
“I actually think Mr Wayne had some other people he wanted Dick to meet, but it was nice to talk to you,” he said politely, already tugging Dick in the other direction. The couple said their polite goodbyes as well, before sweeping away somewhere else.
”Thanks,” Dick muttered, letting out a tense sigh. Wally smiled, nodding.
”No problem,” he muttered, and it took everything in him not to just hug his friend in the middle of the gala.
Instead of leading them over to Bruce like Dick thought he would, he turned at the last minute, pushing them out into the hallway, and headed for the stairwell. Dick paused, snorting as Wally pulled him by the hand.
”Dude, you’re gonna get us both in trouble,” he said, even as he didn’t stop following. Wally shrugged, gesturing back at the party.
”We’ve been mingling for hours, I’m sure you’ve talked to everyone you need to. Besides, we both need some fresh air.” He said, his own cheeks showing a slight drunken flush.
Which he would have agree with, if not for the fact that Wally definitely wasn’t drunk. Well, not that drunk at least. It wasn’t like he couldn’t get drunk because of his metabolism, but it did take a bit more, and it didn’t last that long. So, however drunk he was now, his friend was probably going to be stone cold sober in an hour or two.
Unlike Dick, who was likely going to end up hungover and grouchy at 7:30 the next morning.
Still, he let Wally lead him up the steps, further, and further, until they hit the roof access. Wally pushed open the roof door with a little huff, letting the cool night air wash over the both of them.
Dick let out a sigh, head tipping back to look at the sky as they both moved out onto the roof.
In hi peripheral vision he saw Wally pull off his suit jacket, hanging it over the edge of the roof. He followed suit, snorting at how the fabric floated in the wind.
”Careful, you would want to go throwing my gift off the sides of roofs would you?” He said teasingly. Wally snorted, glancing back at him.
”Like you don’t have the money to buy me a new one,” he teased, hitting Dicks arm lightly. He nodded solemnly, leaning against the railing while setting down his jacket.
“It’s.true, I fear my nepotism knows no bounds. Although, I’m trying to wein myself off of daddy’s money.” he joked. Wally’s face scrunched up at that, and Dick had to laugh.
Cute
”Please never refer to Bruce Wayne as ‘Daddy’,” he said, shivering. Dick played innocent, hopping up to sit on the railing.
“Hey, I’m not saying anything the rest of the world doesn’t already say KF,” he sing-songed. Wally sighed, looking amused.
”That’s nasty Rob. But unfortunately, you’re right,” he tilted his head, eyebrows creasing slightly. “You should get down from there. Don’t need you failing off a roof.”
Dick looked around in surprise, to see that he was in fact now perched on the roof railing precariously. As his brain moved sluggishly, he barely categorized this as alarming, shrugging when he looked back at the redhead.
”You’d catch me.” he said, way too confidently. Wally snorted, smiling at him fondly.
”Always. But I don’t exactly want to have go catch you,” he said, moving closer. Dick raised an eyebrow at him, teasing.
“So you’re not challenging me to do a handstand on this railing right now?” he asked, voice bright. Wally stared at him in bewilderment for a few moments, before he broke out into giggles.
”Dude, you are so drunk,” he said, almost sounding in awe. Dick smiled at him, what was probably a silly, bright smile, and shrugged, before turning to the railing. Then, as promised, he flung his legs up and did a handstand on the railing of an even building.
In a suit.
Wally was behind him, laughing, like this was some kind of shenanigan they got into in the daily. Like they were thirteen again, laughing on a mission with the Titans. The building wasn’t that tall, and he had fallen off of much higher as Nightwing, so the danger didn’t even register past how funny the whole thing was in that moment.
And it was at this moment that everything went to shit.
From behind them, as close as a singular rooftop over, loud gunshots rang out through the night, each one and ear splitting BANG.
Wally did the rational thing, and ducked, covering his ears. But Dick was still doing a handstand, still drunk off his ass. And unfortunately, his instincts reacted before his drunken mind could tell him to stop. That he wasn’t Nightwing right now, just Dick Grayson, billionaire playboys son.
So, naturally, he leaped off the building, flipping in the air, and then rolling to stop the impact when he hit the ground. Once he did, he flipped up quickly, landing on his feet on the alleyway below.
Above him, there was a loud yelp, and he barely had time to register Wally saying his name, before the speedster was bursting through the door behind him leading to the alleyway, and jogging to his side.
”Oh my god, Dick,” Wally said, putting a hand on his shoulder and standing in front of him to look him up and down.
They both stood there for a moment, nothing but loud breaths, and mouths opening and closing with no clue what to say. The gunshots had subsided, and all adrenaline had drained from his body.
All at once, the ache in his head seemed to catch up with him, and he felt so bone numbingly tired that he could only half blame the alcohol when he slumped forward into Wally, burying his face in his shoulder.
Wally jumped slightly in surprise, before being up a his arms to loosely hold onto the other man.
Then, without a word, Wally started to laugh. Quiet ones that made his shoulders shake and his voice breathy, as he giggled. Dick joined in after a second, letting out his own small laugh at the absurdity of what had
“Jesus Dick,” he said, the words pushed out in laughter “You’ve done a lot of crazy things in the last year, but this might take the cake,” he muttered.
Dick hummed, turning his head into the side of Wally’s neck and letting out a sigh. Wally snorted, bringing up one hand to bury in Dick’s hair, gently running his fingers through it and scratching the scalp. That only made Dick melt further into him, and begin to blink tiredly against his friend.
Wally laughed a little, looking at his friend fondly. “Let’s get you home, hm?” he asked. Without waiting for a response, he swept out Dicks legs in a bridal carry, and began to walk behind the building, back to the garage where they had parked.
Dick tried to stay awake, but he only barely managed it, having the vaguest memory of being put in the passenger seat of a car, and a hand rubbing circles on his knee as he drove.
He remembered the click of a key in his apartment door, and someone pulling off his suit and dress clothes gingerly, before laying him down in his bed softly.
Just before he drifted off, he felt a hand in his hair gently massaging his scalp as he drifted off, and he moved toward it, letting out a contented sigh. A warm laugh filled the room, and Dick couldn’t help but smile at the sound.
”Sleep well boy wonder,” a soft voice said, as he drifted off. “I’ll be here if you need me.
——————
In the morning, Dick was immediately met with a splitting headache and an innate desire to kill whoever invented the sun.
he opened his eyes with a groan, before shutting them quickly and rolling over when he saw that he hadn’t shut the curtains. It took another twenty minutes before he rolled over to look at his side table.
What he saw, was a glass of water, a bagel, aspirin and a sticky note. Groggily, he reached for the note, plucking it off to read whatever had been left.
had to leave early, Flash things. Eat and drink something, and try not to stay in bed all day. Call me when you can -WW
Despite himself, Dick smiled at the care his friend had taken, ignoring the flutter in his chest. Reaching out to the sidetable, he ate the slightly cold bagel, before downing the water and meds.
Once he felt like he could move again, he had dragged himself out of bed, moving sluggishly to the living room, and opening his phone.
But as he did so, something made him stop in his tracks. The second he tapped his phone display, the entire thing lit up, and he found a string of dozens of notifications from people texting him, and social media stats.
His eyebrows furrows as he clicked it open, trying to ignore the fear in his gut. The first thing he saw were texts from his siblings. Deciding to bite the bullet, he opened Tim’s contact, who had last texted him twelve minutes ago.
Tim: holy shit dude, B is gonna flip.
Tim: dick?
Tim: pls don’t tell me you’re hungover at some chicks house
Tim: answer one of us before Bruce storms your apartment
Dick looked at his phone in confusion for a second, before shooting off a couple of texts to his brother.
Dick: dude, I just woke up
Dick: what are u taking abt???
It only took a few seconds before Tim responded.
Tim: oh thank god ur not dead
Tim: … check your instagram man
Dicks eyes widened at the text, and he immediately closed his messages, opening his instagram to look at what was going on.
The first thing that came up were his DM’s. Hundreds of them, from random accounts, so many that he couldn’t even keep track as more pinged through.
One particularly caught his eye however, and his eyebrows shot up readin the handle.
It was a kid named Oliver Blankenship, a gymnast from Missouri. He had won gold at the Olympics for men’s gymnastics at 19, and was now returning at 23 to compete again
But what did he want with Dick?
He felt a pit in his stomach as he opened the message, eyes skimming over the paragraph written out.
@ollieblankofficial: Hello Richard! I’m so sorry to contact you out of the blue like this, and I know it’s early. But recently, my team has seen your viral video from yesterday, and been quite impressed. We knew you had a circus background, but your skills clearly have not been lost since then as so many believed. Even though the video was clearly taken in… vulnerable circumstances, I still see much potential in its contents. If you are interested in perhaps further contact, about possible training or apprenticeship, there are open slots on the Olympic men’s gymnastics team, and out of a professional tone if I may… I believe you have the perfect potential. Respond if you are able, and we can perhaps touch base with my team or discuss it further if you’re interested.
Dick blinked at the message a couple more times, rereading it to make sure he had done so correctly. When its contents didn’t change, he looked up from his phone to stare at the wall in bewilderment.
What. The. Fuck.
Immediately exiting out of the message, her went to the search bar of the app. Practically holding his breath, he slowly typed in his own name.
Immediately, at least a hundred videos with the same cover popped up, and headlines that made him wince.
“Richard Grayson: Circus performer for life”
“Son of a Billionaire… or a stuntman?”
”Richard Grayson pulls off incredible skill”
”Richard Grayson: Man, or bird?”
He swallowed heavily, already knowing where this was going as he clicked on the first video. Immediately, he was met with grainy footage of the side of an event building, that looked like it had been taken from a window in the opposite apartments.
And even through the grainy quality, you could clearly see the figure of a man doing a handstand.
He paused the video, fingers shaking, and looked up at his ceiling with closed eyes, letting out a shaky breath.
“Fuck.”
Then. slowly. he looked back down at his phone. Exited out of the app.
And went to his contacts.
——————
And that was how, he found himself on the couch, on the phone with Wally while he sped around being a hero.
Having a mental breakdown.
“ I don’t know walls, this doesn’t feel like something Bruce can just brush under the rug.” He said slowly, rubbing his eyes. “I think I really messed up this time.”
Wally was quiet for a minute. Then, he began in a very slow tone.
”I think you need to call Bruce. I don’t think he’ll be mad. You were clearly intoxicated in the video, and he’ll at the least be glad to hear you got home okay,”
“Thanks to you.” He muttered. There was a short pause, before Wally’s voice became even softer.
”I mean it Dick. Besides, it’s not like you back flipping off a building is gonna reveal your dad’s biggest secret,” Wally said, his voice joking.
But the words made something in his brain snap. And suddenly he was sitting up, a hundred things running through his head.
Because truly… he hadn’t even considered that. A grainy video, of a young man with dark hair, about the same height as the local hero, landing a flip that said local hero did all the time.
A young man who grew up in the circus. In a city where their hero was a known acrobat.
A young man who only moved to Bludhaven as an adult. At the same time Nightwing started operation in Bludhaven,
suddenly, he was panicking. Because he had known that this was really really bad.
But this? Oh this was so much worse.
”Wally.” He said, voice stilted. “I’m gonna have to call you back.”
His friend paused, before starting to speak. “Dick, wait-“
but he had already hung up. And before he knew it, he was out the door.
——————
He took his car. He drove for a long time, in silence. He texted Bruce to let him know that he was okay, and to tell his siblings he would talk to them soon. Then, he parked outside a tall building and took the elevator to the top floor, and then the fire escape to the roof.
He sat on the roof for a good long while trying to forget that any of this had ever happened. Because if he had just blown up 20+ years of carefully crafted secret identities in a stupid way like this?
Yeah, he might as well just disappear into the cave.
He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting when he came up there. Maybe some calm, maybe some clarity, maybe a spot to hide if Wally came looking.
But what he definitely hadn’t been expecting, was Superman.
The brightly colored superhero landed on the roof quietly, and Dick whipped his head in that direction with his heart hammering in surprise.
It wasn’t like seeing Superman in Bludhaven was that unusual. In fact, as Nightwing, they sometimes had good conversations on very similar roofs.
But not like this. Not as Dick Grayson.
Because Superman has no idea who that is. Or at least, he should.
“Hello,” Superman said, coming to stand near him. Dick tensed slightly, before relaxing and letting out a deep sigh.
“Hi,” he said, a lot quieter than he meant to. Superman sat down next to him, swinging his legs a bit over the edge.
“You got an affinity for roofs lately?” He asked jokingly. Dick gave him a sidelong glance and snorted. Superman nodded once, scratching his neck.
”Right. Bad joke.” he conceded.
“I didn’t know Superman watched the news,” he said voice dry. That got a snort from the man, but when Dick gave him a weird look, his face turned back to normal.
”Well, I’ve been put on the news a lot before. Not always for good reasons. So, I get it.” he explained, tapping his heels against the building. Dick let out a sigh.
”So you know who I am,”
Superman paused, before nodding.
”Yes. You’re Dick Grayson. Bruce Wayne’s son.” he said slowly. Dick smiled a bit, tapping his finger.
“Yes. You a fan?” he joked. That got Superman to smile, letting out a little laugh.
“Well, he’s basically the Anti-Lex Luthor, so he seems okay in my book,”
Dick laughed at that, a small one, but a laugh nonetheless. Then, he looked out over the bustling streets, gathering his thoughts.
“I’m guessing you didn’t come all the way to Bludhaven to talk to his son though,” he said, glancing up at him. Superman shrugged.
”Not originally no. I was looking for Nightwing,” he said glancing sidelong at him, before looking forward. “But it looks like he was off patrol last night.”
”Guess we all had an off night.”
”Maybe. But when I saw you, I wanted to stop and ask you a favor.
“A favor? For Superman? I’m almost scared to ask.”
The meta human smiled, before letting out a long sigh, looking thoughtful.
“I wanted to ask you… if you were competing in the Olympics.”
Dick blinked a couple times, taken aback.
That is. Not what he expected to hear.
”What makes you think… I’m competing in the Olympics?” he asked slowly. Superman crossed his ankles glancing at him.
”That’s the running theory. Everyone in the world is saying you are a secret acrobat for the men’s gymnastics which is why you are so good.”
Dick sat back on his hands, surprised. He certainly hadn’t seen that part of the discourse.
“I.. haven’t seen that one yet,” he admitted. “But no. I got an offer about it this morning, but I haven’t had one before that. I’m just a former circus performer who flips when they’re drunk,” he said, sounding a little miserable.
They were both quiet for a minute. The sounds of the city were loud in his ear, but strangely calming and familiar as he took in this new info.
So the popular theory wasn’t that he was Nightwing.
Thank god.
”Well,” Superman finally said “I suppose the favor that I was gonna ask you… is if you would.” He said finally. Dick paused, looking at him.
“If you would compete in the Olympics.”
They both stated at each other, Superman looking completely serious and Dick looking massively bewildered.
”Superman wants me to compete in the Olympics.”
”Yes.”
“Why?”
Superman sighed, looking up at the clouds.
“Because your dad is the sponsor for the American teams this year. And if he is sponsoring his own son, it gives massive publicity to his business and all its assets.”
“And you want this because?”
”Because it will take away all publicity from the fact that LexCorp is sponsoring the Canadian teams.”
There was a long silence. Dick turned to look the metahuman in the eye, curious as ever.
”You’re serious.”
”I am,”
“You want me to take away publicity from Lex Luthor by competing in the Olympics for my dads company.”
“I do.”
“Why do you want him to have bad publicity?”
“Aside from the obvious fact that he tries to kill me all the time?”
”Obviously.”
Superman laughed softly. Then he shrugged.
”Hes been building lately. Like he’s preparing some kind of… big project. He was gunning to be the sponsor for the American team before your dad beat him to it, so he clearly wants to be involved in these games. This will give him bad publicity, which will help weaken his forces… and now, I might have someone on the inside,”
Dicks eyebrows shot up.
”You want me to report on him to you.”
”Only if the information presents itself. I don’t want you to sneak around and risk yourself.”
Dick sat back, contemplating.
Objectively? This was ludicrous. Superman, asking a civilian for help, to take down Lex Luthor of all people.
A civilian in an optimal position to do it safely and without risk, an annoying voice in his head supplied.
Noticing his hesitation, Superman stood up and dusted himself off.
“I just want you to think about it Mr Grayson. I know it’s not an easy decision, but you’d be helping out a lot of people. Including me,” he said, moving to leave. But before he could, Dick called out.
“Wait!” he said, standing up on wobbly legs, as Superman turned to look at him questioningly.
Dick hesitated. Then, he asked his question slowly.
”Why… why put this in my hands? In my father’s? We are also billionaires, and I’m just one acrobat, among hundreds. Why do you trust us?” he asked, voice hesitant.
Superman’s smile softened.
“Because kid. I think you and your dad are one of the good ones. You could be like Lex Luthor but you’re not, and I admire that. You help people. And despite the obvious advantage of you being the acrobat connected to this family…” he said with a small laugh, and a shrug.
“Well, I actually think you can do it kid. I don’t know much, but I don’t think anyone deserves that medal more than you.”
And then, he was gone. Flown off, into the smoggy skyline, back to Metropolis. And now, Dick Grayson had a lot more to think about.
He sat back down, clutching his phone in his hand. Thinking about what he could do with this.
The Olympics. Something that seemed so untouchable to so many. And yet, the world seemed to think he had the potential to represent them. If he pulled it off, he could give a good excuse for his continued acrobatics, and he could help Superman.
But a smaller, more secret part of him, thought of his parents. Of his mom telling him that he would fly for the whole world to see. That’s what he would be doing.
The whole world would see him do it. Not as Nightwing. But Richard Grayson-Wayne. The Flying Grayson.
The Little Robin.
And suddenly, the decision didn’t seem so hard.
He pulled out his phone, and opened instagram. He looked at the Olympic message, knowing he would need to respond soon. But for now, he opened the camera, and snapped a picture of himself sitting on the edge of the roof.
Then, he added it to his story, with words written clear as day across the screen
‘can’t a guy train for the the Olympics on a roof in peace?’
He ignored the notifications that flooded in when he hit post. He closed the app entirely, and opened his calls, dialing a familiar number. And when it picked up on the third ring, he smiled.
”Dick? Hey what’s up? I couldn’t find you when I came by, and I-“ his best friends voice started frantically through the phone.
”Wally.” He cut him off, the smile clear in the soft way he said his name. The boy on the other end stopped speaking abruptly, and slowed down, his frantic breathing turning steady.
“Dick? What is it?” A much slower, calmer voice asked. Dick let out a long sigh before a grinning mouth asked his next question.
“How would you like to help me train for the Olympics?”
There was a silence. A long, drawn out, silence, and then, quiet laughter came from the other end of the phone.
”Shit Rob,” Wally said, a smile clear in his tone. “I think you’re going crazy again.”
And the way he said. So happy, and so clearly a yes.
And as he sat there on that roof, with the voice of someone he was probably in love with, and the city that was his, and only his, and a new exciting future he could practically taste.
Maybe he was grateful Wally took him onto the roof