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In a world in which the types of soulbonds are as varied as flower species, Dick Grayson is lucky—or perhaps unlucky, depending on one’s point of view—to have a relatively common bond.
It is estimated that about five percent of the world’s population have the First Words soulbond, which is rather impressive considering the sheer amount of bonds that exist. Tattoos in general are by far the most abundant form of bond—whether they be words, images, or something else—with about forty-five percent of the world displaying them. Active skin marks are when marks from your soulmate, usually writing or injuries, appear on your skin. These are the next most common at thirty percent. Physical attributes, such as hair or eye color, are tied for third place with mind bonds, like hearing thoughts or music, or perhaps sharing emotions, at about ten percent each. The remaining five percent is made up of miscellaneous soulbonds, as there are far too many to categorize them all.
In any case, Dick Grayson is pleased with his Words, for he at least knows what his soulbond is and can scrounge up a decent amount of information on it. His parents hadn’t known anything about their bond; indeed, they hadn’t even known what it was until after they were together. They could heal each other’s injuries, a bond that no one had ever heard of before, but one that was nonetheless extremely useful in the circus business.
Though known to most of his close friends and family by his nickname, Dick always introduces himself by his full name, for his tattoo reads, “ Nice to meet you, Richard Grayson.”
Wally West is extremely fortunate to have the soulbond that he does, in his own humble opinion. He has the first words his soulmate will ever speak to him tattooed on his right wrist, meaning that a) he is guaranteed to meet them, and b) he will know who they are almost immediately. There are many who aren’t as lucky; those with images representing their soulmates, for example, have no way of confirming who they are bonded to, and those with timers sometimes lose each other in crowds and never know if they’ve found their other half again.
Of course, Wally knows that it isn’t guaranteed that he will know who his soulmate is upon meeting them; he’s heard stories of people who have known each other for years but have never spoken to each other, whether by choice or chance. His fears are mostly assuaged, however, by the nature of his words. “Nice to meet you” implies a first encounter, so unless he himself actively decides not to speak with his soulmate for whatever reason, he should have nothing to fear.
“Are you kidding me?” Dick complains from the passenger seat of the Batmobile. “You’re setting me up on a play-date?” Batman remains as stoic as ever, staring straight ahead. “I can’t believe this. I’m not a kid!” Bruce’s mouth quirks a little at that.
“You are eleven years old, no matter how competent.” Dick huffs, slumping further down in his seat. For all of his insistence that he’s not that young, he still acts like a petulant child sometimes. Bruce sighs. “Besides, I need to speak with the Flash. I have reason to believe that an infamous crime lord in Gotham has connections to Central City. I need to investigate.” Dick knows all of this, he just wants to continue griping.
“Yeah, but why do I have to come along? Gotham needs someone to protect her while you aren’t there,” he wheedles, more for the sake of argument at his point. Bruce gives a long-suffering sigh.
“Gotham will be fine for one night. Flash has a new partner who’s close to your age. I want you to meet him.” Dick knows this, too; Bruce had just explained it, Dick just isn’t happy about it. He continues grumbling under his breath.
Finally, they reach the appointed meeting spot, the roof of an empty building in the suburbs just outside of Gotham. Batman’s “No Metas Allowed In Gotham” Rule still stands, even for Important Business. They are two minutes early, meaning they’ll have to wait for about ten minutes before the Flashes show up. Speedsters are known for being late, despite their superhuman abilities. The irony isn’t lost on anyone.
As they wait, Dick inspects his surroundings. He can see his breath puffing out in front of him in the chilly February air, and he wraps his cape around himself a little more tightly to repel the cold. The pale gray light of the crepuscule makes everything look dull and washed out, though Dick can see the vestiges of the sunset lingering over Gotham’s skyline in the distance. He mulls over the lack of color, as if Gotham’s dark aura seeps out beyond the city limits.
Dick’s musings are interrupted by the appearance of two bright blurs in the distance, one red and one yellow. He checks the watch in his glove. Ten minutes, on the dot.
The blurs get closer and closer, finally coming to a stop five feet in front of the Dynamic Duo. The Flash waves and starts speaking, a little out of breath and slightly faster than normal.
“Sorry we’re late, Batman. Had to pick up this little squirt from Keystone,” he gestures to Kid Flash, who pouts and shoots a glare at his mentor, “but there was a jewelry store being robbed so of course we had to step in and-“ Flash keeps talking, but Robin tunes him out, instead inspecting the teenager in front of him.
Kid Flash’s costumes is...bright, to say the least, with an eye-abusing yellow top, Flash-red pants, and yellow boots. His face is covered by a yellow cowl that leaves the top of his head exposed, and red goggles obscure his eyes. The boy is gangly, looking to be a couple of years older than Robin, and his outlandishly ginger hair catches Robin’s attention immediately. All in all, he looks comically cartoonish, and that’s coming from the partner of a man dressed as a bat.
The adults meander to the other side of the roof, presumably to talk about aforementioned Important Business, and the two young heroes regard each other with scrutinizing eyes. Then Kid Flash opens his mouth.
“You’re shorter than I thought you would be,” he blurts out, apparently saying the first thing that comes into his head. Robin raises an eyebrow, slightly insulted, yet nevertheless amused at his inadvertent insolence. Kid Flash’s eyes widen.
“And you’re ruder than I than I thought you’d be,” Robin replies coolly, trying not to smirk as Kid Flash’s mouth does a remarkable impersonation of a fish. He manages to find his voice and scrambles to save himself.
“Oh, shoot, I didn’t mean to say that. I mean, you are pretty small,” Robin’s other eyebrow joins the first, “but that’s not a bad thing! I was just expecting someone bigger, I mean, scarier, wait, no-” Robin continues to try to look unimpressed as Kid Flash rambles on. “It’s just, you’re Batman’s partner, and he’s all, like, big and scary and stuff, and I thought you would be like that too, and I’m just digging myself into a hole, aren’t I?” Robin nods, amused at Kid Flash’s apparent lack of a filter. “Can we just start over, please?” Kid Flash begs, and Robin outright laughs at that, his cool facade cracking.
“Sure, whatever you say,” Robin chuckles. Kid Flash looks relieved and sticks out his hand.
“Hi, my name is Wally West,” he says. Robin notes the use of his civilian identity, but shakes his hand.
“Nice to meet you, Wally West,” Robin replies. Wally grins, and Dick can’t help but smile back. The dull background seems just a little bit brighter, and Dick doesn’t think it’s because of Wally’s garish costume. Well, not entirely.
“Nice to meet you,” Wally says, and Dick thinks he could see himself becoming friends with this kid.
Wally shows Robin his soulmark after they’ve know each other for about half a year.
They are best friends, partners in crime, however ironic the phrase might be, and it doesn’t bother Wally all that much that he doesn’t even know his best friend’s name. He knows that Batman has Rules, and that there are some things that not even Robin can challenge him on. He also knows that Robin wants to tell him; he’s expressed his frustration before, and it’s the thought that counts.
A name is merely a title, anyway. Wally knows Robin, how he moves on the battlefield, his sharp smile and cackling laughter. He knows Rob’s witty remarks and his odd thought process. He knows what his genuine smile looks like; how his shoulders hunch ever so slightly when he’s distressed; how he taps his foot with restless energy when in civies, but never in costume; how he’s prone to feats of random acrobatics to disperse this energy, a cartwheel here and a handstand into a walkover there as natural as breathing. The point is, Wally knows Robin in all but name, and what is in a name? A rose by any other name would smell as sweet.
(And a robin by any other name would fly as high.)
So Wally shows Robin his soulmark, and he doesn’t mind that Robin can’t return the gesture. “My mark could potentially compromise my identity,” he says, and Wally thinks he can detect a hint of sorrow in his tone. He gives Robin a reassuring smile.
“It’s all good, man. Honestly, I kind of expected Bats to have a Rule against showing your soulmark to people, even if it wasn’t necessarily revealing.”
“I-“ Robin hesitates, eyebrows furrowing above his shades as if he’s hosting a debate against himself in his head. “I’ve got the First Words mark too,” he murmurs finally, and casts a discreet look around, as if Batman would pop out of the shadows in Wally’s room just to yell at him. Honestly, Wally wouldn’t be surprised. Then the impact of what Robin just said actually hits him, and his eyes widen.
“Are you- are you allowed to tell me that?” Wally stutters in surprise. Robin snorts.
“Probably not, but what the hell. What Batman doesn’t know won’t kill him.” They both share a look, then burst out laughing, because Batman operates entirely under the notion that what he doesn’t know will, in fact, kill him, and the idea of the Batman not knowing everything, because of them, is wild and exhilarating and hilarious.
When their chuckles finally die down, Wally’s still smiling and so is Robin—his actual smile, not just a smirk—and he feels amazing. “So I’m assuming your Words have your name in them?” Wally asks, just because he can, because he wants to see how far he can push his luck, how far he can push Robin’s defiance.
The Boy Wonder nods, and Wally knows he’s playing with fire but he’s never had the best sense of self preservation. “Where are they?” Robin tenses the tiniest amount, almost unnoticeable, but taps his left wrist. The skin looks bare, but Wally can see the minute shift in color that indicates the use of concealer. (Probably some super-strength, won’t-wash-off-in-water, high quality Bat-concealer.)
Wally doesn’t know why his chest feels tight, it’s not as if the wrist is a particularly intimate place. Perhaps it’s Robin’s delicate, pale skin or the slight upturn that leaves it exposed. Maybe it has something to do with the thin bones (like a bird’s, Wally thinks) that look like they could break at a touch but could actually leave someone twitching on the floor. Perhaps it’s the fact that his hands are so often covered by gloves, or maybe it’s because the only thing separating Wally’s curious eyes and those hidden Words is a thin layer of makeup. Maybe he feels the weight of a secret, partially relieved from Robin’s tiny frame through the act of sharing.
A charged atmosphere fills the room and blankets the two boys, who simply stare at each other. Then Wally gets a twinkle in his eye. “So does Batman have a line of beauty products that you use, or-“ He can’t even finish the question before Robin tackles him to the bed and then they’re both laughing again. The moment is gone and the tense air is dissipating. Everything is okay.
Everything is not okay.
It is Richard Grayson’s first day at Gotham Academy (seventh grade, even though he’s technically only eleven), and he’s introduced himself to about thirty different people. The response that at least half of them had? “Nice to meet you, Richard Grayson.”
The first time someone says that, Dick almost chokes. It’s been a while since someone has said his Words upon meeting him, and he isn’t used to it. The guy doesn’t look like he just found his soulmate, though, so Dick assumes that they were just words, not Words.
After he has moved safely away from everyone, Dick quickly pulls up his sleeve. Words change color when one first speaks to their soulmate, an easy indicator when one has common Words. Dick’s tattoo is the same black as ever, and he breathes a sigh of equal parts disappointment and relief.
Then it happens again. And again. And again.
Eventually he falls into a routine, slipping away and checking his wrist every time someone says his Words. It becomes rather exhausting though, and Dick finds himself wishing he has different Words.
He then wonders why he’s so obsessed with meeting his soulmate. Sure, it’s pretty common for kids his age, but Dick is by no means a normal kid. The superhero business is dangerous, definitely not a good place to cultivate a relationship. Aside from the constant risk of literally dying, he would probably have to keep his nightly whereabouts a secret, and secrets are not a good way to establish trust.
Of course, Bruce had sat Dick down within the first month of him becoming Robin and given him a Talk about the dangers of soulmates in the business. He had made Dick promise to never show anyone his soulmark, and listed all of the risks that went along with heroes’ soulbonds. Dick had nodded along, but he hadn’t really understood all of what Bruce was saying.
He still introduces himself as Richard, though more out of habit than rebellion, and he doesn’t shy away from meeting new people, but it isn’t as if he’s actively seeking out his soulmate. If he happens to meet them, then it’s just fate, right?
Now, though, the more he thinks about it, the more Dick realizes that meeting his soulmate would make things incredibly complicated. Telling them his secret identity would endanger them, but it wouldn’t be fair for them not to know that he risks his life every night, that they could suddenly lose him without knowing why.
With these revelations, Dick can feel his childhood dreams of happily ever afters crashing down around him like stars falling from the sky. Deep down, he has always wanted to fall in love with his soulmate, to be as happy as his parents. He supposes this was inevitable. After all, his parents didn’t get a happy ending, so why should he?
Instead, Dick vows to protect his soulmate from getting mixed up with capes and cowls, from lying and heartbreak. He can tolerate the endless jokes about his nickname if it means he can keep them safe. The only person he’ll hurt is himself, and he’s used to pain.
That day, he stops introducing himself as Richard Grayson.
Wally is ecstatic. In the past two days, he, Robin, and Aqualad have managed to hack into Justice League databases, investigate a suspicious laboratory, discover a clone of Superman secretly developed in said laboratory, recruit the clone and make sure he doesn’t turn into a bad guy, defeat a bunch of weird mind-controlled...things, and convince the League to make the four of them a team. All in all, not too shabby for a group of young heroes who have hardly fought together before.
They are currently touring Mount Justice, their new kind-of-but-not-really-super-secret base, while the Justice League outlines the basics of the team. Wally’s contemplation is interrupted by Aquaman.
“Batman needs a team that can operate on the sly,” he says, turning to the black-clad vigilante beside him. Batman in turn angles toward the group of boys in front of him. Wally feels himself involuntarily stand up a little straighter. Look, Batman is intimidating, even when he’s not trying to be, okay?
“The five of you will be that team,” the Bat continues. Wally shares a grin with Robin, who voices their shared enthusiasm.
“Cool!” Rob exclaims, then stops short. A look of confusion passes over his face. “Wait, five?” Wally feels his own puzzlement bubble up, but Batman inclines his head ever so slightly to something behind them. Everyone turns, and Wally’s eyes widen, his jaw almost hitting the floor, because wow.
Striding toward them is an extremely pretty girl. She’s keeping pace with Martian Manhunter, her green skin implying some sort of familial relation with him. She has a shy mien and an aura of innocence that’s rare to see in the realm of heroes. Smooth red hair falling just past her shoulders and a smattering of freckles across her cheeks complement her complexion unexpectedly, and Wally should really stop staring because Batman is introducing her.
“This is the Martian Manhunter’s niece, Miss Martian,” he says gruffly. Miss Martian gives a little wave and a hesitant smile.
Wally realizes he’s still staring slack-jawed and tries to compose himself. He elbows Robin lightly, hoping the sharp-eyed little bird didn’t notice his temporary lapse in brainpower.
“I’m liking this gig more every minute,” he mutters, his gaze never straying from Miss Martian. He takes a few steps forward and summons his most flirtatious smile. “Welcome aboard,” he starts. “I’m Kid Flash. That’s Robin,” he gestures to his left, “Aqualad,” and to his right. The former waves in greeting, while the latter only nods politely. Wally leans forward conspiratorially. “It’s cool if you forget their names,” he says in a slightly lower voice, trying to sound suave.
Wally searches her face for some sort of recognition, a spark in her beautiful amber eyes. He’s never actively wanted someone to be his soulmate before, not to this degree, but he’s quite possibly a little bit infatuated. Of course, there’s a chance that because she’s an alien, she doesn’t have a soulbond, but Wally resolutely ignores that fact. He’s so enamored that he completely misses the look Robin shoots at his back, irritation mixed with something else.
Wally stares at Miss Martian intently, but all she says is, “I’m honored to be included.” He feels his heart fall, but he tries to console himself. Not being soulmates doesn’t mean there can’t be anything there, right?
The young heroes all approach their newest member to continue conversing, and Wally can’t help rubbing his wrist unconsciously. He knows Robin catches it from the pointed look sent his way; he probably caught his gaping earlier too, damnit. He’s definitely going to get teased later; Robin takes every opportunity to make fun of his flirtatious tendencies.
However, as the day creeps on, Wally receives no taunts from his beloved bird. In fact, he sees neither head nor tail of him for hours. The five of them are left at the mountain in order to explore and get used to it, but Robin disappears almost as soon as they are dismissed. Wally has only seen brief glimpses of him all day, in between mostly unsuccessful attempts to charm Miss Martian.
Finally, Wally corners Robin in the kitchen. The others have gone off to explore, so they have the space to themselves. Wally decides to be blunt.
“Why are you avoiding me?” he asks, a little sharper than he means to. Robin doesn’t bat an eye. There is a potent pause as he takes a slow sip from his water bottle.
“I’m not avoiding you,” he replies finally. On the surface, he sounds flippant and uncaring, but his tone is off. Robin may be a master deceiver, but Wally knows what he sounds like when he’s truly nonchalant, and this isn’t it. Something is bothering him.
“Yes, you are. What’s up?” Wally presses. Robin scowls at him.
“Nothing’s up ,” he says shortly. His voice takes on a bitter edge. “Why don’t you go bother Miss Martian? She certainly doesn’t mind having you around.” Wally is confused for a moment. What does Miss M have to do with anything? Then he realizes the meaning behind Robin’s comment. He almost laughs at how absurd it is.
“Hey, come on, man,” Wally grins, “you don’t need to be jealous of Miss M. You know you’ll always be my best bro!” Wally expects Robin to snort and crack a joke, to roll his eyes fondly and have everything go back to normal. Instead, Robin’s mouth twists into a sardonic smile.
“Me? Jealous? Never!” Wally is taken aback by the sarcastic, cutting tone he uses, and he realizes that Robin might be more hurt than he thought. However, it seems that the Boy Wonder is intent on being stubborn, so Wally steels himself.
“Come on, Rob, drop the act. I know something’s up with you. You’ve been avoiding me since this morning and I want to know why.”
“I haven’t been avoiding you!” Robin explodes. “Not completely! You’ve just been following M’gann around like a puppy all day, hanging on her every word and ignoring everyone else to flirt with her. If I had tried to talk to you, all you would’ve been able to focus on would be her! It wasn’t even worth trying.” Robin sighs heavily and slumps against the counter, like all the fight has drained out of him suddenly.
Wally is shocked. He hadn’t even considered how his actions were impacting his best friend. Of course, Wally is glad that he’s found the heart of Robin’s troubles, but he’s horrified that he himself is the cause.
“Robin...”
“It’s always been us against the world,” Robin continues quietly, a rawness in his voice that roots Wally to the spot. “I just don’t want you to forget me or leave me behind.” A rare vulnerability presents itself on Robin’s features and Wally is stunned into speechlessness, an impressive feat indeed. He recovers enough to lean forward slightly, placing a comforting hand on Robin’s shoulder.
“I could never forget you, Robin,” he says sincerely. “You’re my best friend, and nothing will ever change that. No matter what, you’ll always be my number one.” Robin smiles weakly.
“Till death do us part?” he asks jokingly. Wally chuckles a little and nods.
“Till death do us part,” he replies, and opens up his arms. Robin tips forward into the embrace and they hug each other tightly.
All things considered, it isn’t unexpected that only half of the Team have soulbonds.
M’gann is immensely interested in the concept of soulmates. Apparently, soulbonds don’t exist on Mars, and her romantic nature is immediately captivated by the idea of someone crafted by fate to be one’s absolute perfect match. She has trouble with the fact that a large percentage of people don’t end up with their soulmate. Dick has had to explain countless times that it isn’t expected for one to search for their soulmate or stay with them. Many people never find out who their soulmate is and live perfectly happy, fulfilling lives with their own partners.
Kaldur’s situation is similar to M’gann’s, in that Atlanteans don’t have soulmates either. Kal says that he actually prefers it this way. According to him, soulbonds add several layers of unnecessary complexity to the concept of love, and he enjoys the freedom of being able to choose a partner without constantly feeling obligated to someone he’s never met and possibly never will. Dick thinks he picks up a melancholy undertone in his voice when he says this, but he doesn’t mention it. Honestly, Dick sometimes shares these sentiments, on nights when he’s feeling particularly cynical, lying in his bed and staring at the ceiling and rubbing his wrist.
Connor doesn’t have a soulbond either, since Kryptonians are, according to Superman, akin to Martians and presumably all other alien species. It appears that soulbonds are a uniquely human feature, a very interesting fact confirmed by other members of the League when prompted by Robin’s inquiries. Dick wishes he could figure out what happened to cause humans to evolve in this way. Unfortunately, countless scientists have tried to answer this question, with few conclusive results.
The Team finds out about Artemis’s soulbond late one night when they’re all hanging out in Mount Justice. Dick and Wally have permission to stay the night, so they’re having a group bonding session (Connor refuses to call it a sleepover) in the living room. It’s the time of night where everyone is just a little tired (save for Dick, of course) and one tends to spill secrets that would never be revealed in the light of day. Wally is showing off his tattoo to an eager M’gann, his flirtatious manner basically a running joke at this point.
“You know I’d drop my soulmate for you any day, babe,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows. Dick rolls his eyes behind his shades, ignoring the prickling in his chest, and he can see Artemis doing the same. M’gann giggles, thankfully understanding that Wally is mostly messing around, and turns to look at Artemis.
“Do you have a soulbond, Artemis?” she asks with innocent curiosity. The archer currently sprawled out on the couch stiffens minutely, then slowly uncoils.
“I’ve got a timer,” she says, but refuses to elaborate. Dick is intrigued, but none of them push her. Everyone is entitled to their own privacy, and Dick is the last person who could judge her on her secrecy. She still looks slightly uncomfortable, though, and she quickly diverts the attention away from herself. “Hey Robin, what’s your bond?”
Dick is expecting this question, yet it still makes him lock up subconsciously. He forces a carefree smirk onto his face. “Sorry, Arty, Bats makes me keep my lips sealed.” He mimes zipping his mouth closed. He hopes the subject is dropped, but Wally pipes up.
“Yeah, it’s been like this forever,” he drawls. “He’s not even allowed to tell his best fwiend in the whole world.” The last bit is directed at Dick and said in a mocking baby voice, accompanied by puppy eyes and an exaggerated pout. Though Dick knows the jab is meant purely in jest, it still sends a stab of guilt through him.
Dick abhors the fact that he can’t reveal anything about himself to the Team. He can’t even truly be himself around his closest friend, and it twists a knife through his heart every day. Wally is so painfully honest; he wears his heart on his sleeve and he feels things so deeply. Though he sometimes tries to cover up his pain with humor, he always confides his deepest thoughts and feelings with Dick. Wally has no secrets from Robin, but Dick has so many secrets from Wally, and it kills him a little bit inside whenever he thinks about it.
The conversation continues around him, but Dick tunes it out. He can see Wally shooting him concerned glances out of the corner of his eye, but he pays them no mind either, too absorbed in his own thoughts.
Dick has wanted desperately to tell Wally his secret identity for ages. He wants to be able to hang out in Gotham and play video games in the Manor and complain about paparazzi; he wants to actually look Wally in the eyes for once; he wants to show him his soulmate tattoo and speculate about all the possible scenarios in which their Words could be said. He wants Wally to know him, all parts of him, and he’s tired of following Batman’s every order. If Bruce doesn’t like it, he can go to hell.
Then and there, Dick makes the decision. He’s going to tell Wally everything, when the time is right. It will happen. Soon. He swears it.
It was supposed to be a standard mission. Isn’t it always? Covert recon only, don’t engage, don’t draw attention or make a scene. Of course, this is the Young Justice, so that all goes to hell in a handbag in about twenty minutes.
They were supposed to scout out a shady underground complex and gather intel, then get out. They split into groups of two to cover more ground; Aqualad and Miss Martian, Artemis and Superboy, Robin and Kid Flash.
Something happened, maybe someone tripped an alarm? Wally is a little fuzzy on the details. There was a fight, he recalls, him and Robin against five or so armed soldiers. That’s where things start to get hazy.
Wally remembers pain, and an explosion. The guys had been trained, and they’d known who they were fighting. In addition to normal guns, they’d had blasters of some sort that seemed to tamper with superpowers.
All Wally knows now is that he’s bleeding out in a half collapsed room, trapped and helpless. The rest of the Team can’t get to them, he’s practically got a hole in his stomach courtesy of Goon #4, whatever that blaster did is dampening his powers to the point where he’s basically healing at a normal human rate—that is to say, not at all—and his legs are completely buried. Robin isn’t doing much better.
The Boy Wonder is pinned from the waist down under numerous pieces of rubble. He’s been shot in the arm twice, and judging by the rattling sound coming from his mouth every time he breathes, Robin’s ribs are broken, too. He can’t reach his utility belt, and neither of them can even hope to move the rocks. Wally can see a pool of red creeping out from where Robin’s legs would be. It doesn’t seem like they’ll be getting out of this one that easily.
Wally talks when he’s nervous. He can’t stand silence, this isn’t news to anyone, so even though it makes his abdomen hurt like hell, he’s been chattering on inanely while they lie helpless, pretending everything is going to be fine. He’s talking about the book he’s reading in English class—Romeo and Juliet—when Robin suddenly interrupts him.
“Wally, there’s something I need to tell you.” Wally looks at him, confused, and sees Robin’s face scrunched up, though whether it’s in pain or concentration, Wally can’t tell. His eyes widen as Robin reaches up and digs his fingers underneath the edge of his mask.
“Whoa, man, what are you doing?” Robin stops momentarily to shoot Wally a look. Wally shrugs and winces in pain, because he can’t believe that this is actually happening. If Robin is revealing his secret identity, things must be seriously bad. Horror creeps over him in a moment of clarity at the same time another wave of pain floods over him. We’re going to die here.
Wally has a fleeting thought of, I can’t die, I haven’t met my soulmate yet, before his vision flickers and nausea claws its way up his throat. Bile burns his normally quick tongue and his accelerating healing is all but null, incapable of staunching the fresh blood seeping from his stomach.
Robin manages to loosen all the edges of his mask and starts to peel away the domino.
Wally’s first impression is blue. Robin has incredibly blue eyes that are boring straight into his soul. He traces the planes of Rob’s newly revealed face; it’s one he vaguely recognizes, sharp and angular and remarkably attractive. Wally tries to place where he’s seen Robin before, but he can’t quite concentrate because he’s lost all feeling in his legs and his vision is starting to swim.
Robin struggles to sit up as much as he can, sticks out his good hand, and says in a wavering voice, “Hi, my name is Richard Grayson.” Wally is suddenly reminded of a conversation on a roof many years ago.
The name sparks something else in Wally’s memory. He lights up in recognition, though the action sends another stab of pain through him: Richard Grayson, also know as Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne’s ward. He pulls off his cowl, then shakes Robin—no, Richard’s—hand.
“Nice to meet you, Richard Grayson.” Wally sees something flash in Richard’s eyes—perhaps he also recalls their first encounter—but the room is spinning so he could be mistaken. The pain is getting to be unbearable, but he’s looking into his best friend’s actual eyes, not just white lenses or a pair of shades, and Wally feels euphoric. Richard- okay that’s too much of a mouthful. Dick sucks in a pained gasp and coughs up a little blood, but his smile seems genuine.
“Nice to meet you,” Dick says, nostalgia tinging his weak voice. Wally automatically perks up a little bit at his Words, but they’ve been said so many times to him that he hardly notices.
Then he feels a tingling in his wrist.
Wally locks eyes with Dick (actual eye contact!) and they both hasten to tug off their gloves. A moment of clairvoyance knocks what little breath Wally has left out of his lungs as he stares at his Words changing color.
There are very few documented cases of Last Words. Many don’t believe they even exist, though it has been proven that there are a few people with the last words their soulmate ever spoke to them tattooed somewhere on their body.
Wally realizes a few things all at once.
Firstly, his entire life has been a lie. It turns out that, surprise, he actually has a Last Words bond! He doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
Secondly, Richard Grayson, Robin, is his soulmate. He’s been best friends with his soulmate for years and never known. Surprisingly, Wally finds he’s not as bitter about this as he could be, though that could be the lightheadedness talking. He mourns for what could have been, of course, but he’s glad for what he had, and he wouldn’t trade those years of friendship for anything in the world.
Thirdly, his Words have been said. He and Dick will never say anything else to each other ever again. They’re probably going to die here, and Wally would be scared, but he’s so dizzy he can hardly think straight.
As Dick and Wally meet each other’s gazes for the final time, a wave of understanding passes between them and Wally knows Dick has just realized the same things as him. They smile at each other, and Wally’s last coherent memory is reaching for Dick’s hand.
When someone finds them, minutes or hours or days later, both heroes are maskless, lying side by side. Maybe it’s the rest of the Team, falling to their knees in shock at the sight of their lifeless brothers-in-more-than-arms. Perhaps the whole Justice League comes looking for them, finding two boys who were their sons in all but blood. Maybe only Batman searches for them, seeing something wrong from where he’s tracking Robin. Maybe it’s just an innocent civilian, staring at the bare faces of heroes, children, they’ve seen on TV.
Maybe M’gann starts crying, seeking comfort in Artemis’s arms; perhaps Connor flies into a rage and Kaldur stands paralyzed, blaming himself. Maybe Diana’s heart breaks a little and Clark wonders how they can send kids into battle. Perhaps Batman sheds his cowl, alone in a room with only corpses for company, and Bruce strokes a hand down his son’s cheek. No matter the person, when they look down at the two bodies, they all see the same thing.
The boys’ bare hands are clasped between them, right against left, tattoos pressed together. When their fingers are finally disentangled, their Words are as red as the blood dripping from their skin.