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Wally’s on his way from homeroom: head down and eyes cast downward with his backpack slung over one shoulder. As per the usual. He thought Captain Cold and Trickster were tough? Middle school is an entirely new form of evil.
Having been Kid Flash for not even a full year yet, Wally’s still struggling to suppress the urge to speed to class at fifty miles an hour and hope it’s fast enough that no one will see him blur past. Normal speed sucks.
As he walks he notices people giving him strange looks, which sets off every internal alarm in his body. It’s nothing too obvious, really: a lingering glance here, a smirk there. One group of kids snickers in his direction and whispers as he walks past, making Wally’s cheeks flame.
Is there something on his face? Did he forget to put on pants this morning? He looks down at himself and notices nothing out of place. Did they figure out his secret identity? Is he about to get outed as Kid Flash so early in the game? Barry’s going to kill him if that’s the case.
As Wally moves down the hallway, his locker slowly comes into view. There’s a crowd of people gathered around it, and that alone sends exclamation points jumping around in Wally’s head like burnt Jiffy Pop.
He shoulders through the crowd who parts all too easily for him, and when his eyes finally land on his locker he freezes. Stops dead in his tracks as a wave of cold washes over his body and he stares in horror.
FAG
Scrawled in bright red paint that’s still wet and dripping onto the dusty linoleum floor. It’s huge. It’s bold. It’s there—out in the open for everyone to see.
Wally is frozen; cemented in place and convinced this is a nightmare. Everyone is staring at him—some in sympathy, some in delight. There are clicks and flashes as they take photos of what has got to be the worst moment in Wally West’s entire life. And that says a lot, considering what he’s put up with so far.
He knew from the beginning that his school isn’t the most progressive by a long shot—being smack dab in the assholiest region of Kansas and all—but really? Outing him to the entire school in such a horrifically explicit way? His gut swirls, and for a split second Wally’s afraid he’s going to vomit right here and now.
He only just begins to wonder who could be responsible for this when a voice over his shoulder clicks their tongue and says, “That’s going to be hard to wash off.” He whirls around and Madison stands there, utter glee flaming in her swampy green eyes. “I can only imagine how embarrassing this must be for you.”
Wally’s hands are shaking. “How did you find out?”
She examines her nails like a bitch in a teen movie. “Maybe you should be more careful next time you decide to lock lips on school property.” Wally’s eyes widen as he realizes what she’s talking about, and he wants to punch himself as hard as he can. She was there that day? He’s an idiot. A great, big, fucking idiot.
Wally should have been more careful. He should have made sure the coast was clear before he kissed that boy from his chem class behind the school yesterday. It was an experiment, he told himself at the time. A fun one, but an experiment all the same.
Wally didn’t know at the time if he was gay or straight or bisexual or what—and even now he still has no idea. But whether he had a grip on what was going on or not, nobody was ever supposed to find out. Especially not the entire school. He hasn’t even told his aunt and uncle yet.
Wally doesn’t realize tears have been welling in his eyes until they are already spilling over, and he doesn’t have the brain capacity to wipe them away. His head is filled with static. Scratchy, sharp, aching static.
All he knows for sure is that he needs to go. Run. Get out of here.
He closes his eyes, pushes past Madison—(ignoring her little “ew, don’t touch me, homo”)—and runs as fast as shitty human speed will allow him.
He doesn’t look back. He doesn’t let himself listen to the laughter that follows him down the hallway as his sneakers pound the floor, carrying him as far away as he can get from this hell.
“Wally? You in here, kid?” Barry knocks on his door, and Wally curls up tighter under his blanket.
He didn’t want to go home for fear of his dad being there, so Wally instead ran laps around the country until his legs felt wobbly enough that he was sure they would give out and send him tumbling to the ground somewhere in Nebraska. After that he turned tail and it was a short trip to Central City, then to Barry and Iris’ house.
Wally has a bedroom here for whenever he and Barry do hero work until late at night and Wally’s too conked out to go home and put up with his dad for another hour. It’s an accomodation he’s grateful for today especially.
He sat in a ball on his bed and cried for hours until he ran out of tears and his hitching sobs turned into trembly hiccups.
He turned off his phone so he wouldn’t have to see the notifications from everyone at school talking about what happened and posting comments that made Wally want to dig his nails into his skin and pull it apart until there was no piece of him left.
The door cracks open, and footsteps cross the room. “Wally? Why aren’t you in school?” The mattress dips as Barry sits down beside him. Wally sniffles and flinches when Barry rests a hand on his back. “Did something happen?”
Wally lifts the blanket only enough so that Barry can see his watery eyes. “Is there something wrong with me?”
“Aside from being able to run from here to Gotham in half an hour?” It’s a weak attempt at humor, but Wally doesn’t crack a smile, and that’s when Barry frowns. “Hey, what happened?”
Wally just shakes his head, pulling the blanket back over his face.
Barry pulls it down again, ignoring the grumble he receives. He smooths back Wally’s hair, exposing his puffy eyes. “Wally, come on. Talk to me.”
Wally just looks at him, lip quivering. Another tear streaks down his face.
“Please, kid. Tell me what’s going on.”
Wally knows that keeping the secret is pointless at this point. Not like his entire school doesn’t already know, and no doubt the news will spread. Midwestern towns are like that.
“They called me a fag,” he says quietly.
Barry’s eyes crinkle sadly. “Oh, Wally...they’re just bullies, you know. I’m sorry this happened, but you can’t let kids like that get to you.”
Wally wants to shrivel up and die. He wants to blink out of existence. He wants to stop feeling this way. He shakes his head, more tears falling. “They’re right,” he says, little more than a whisper, and just like that it's out. It’s out in the open, and it should feel freeing but it’s not.
He doesn’t look at Barry. Doesn’t want to see the disgust in his eyes when he realizes what his nephew really is. “I...I kissed a boy at school yesterday.”
Barry’s hand stops. “Oh.”
A sob builds in Wally’s throat. “I’m sorry,” he says, shaking as he buries his face in his pillow. “I didn’t mean to, I just—”
Suddenly Barry moves, and for a split second Wally is convinced he’s going to hit him. He’s going to beat him and tell him that he’s disgusting, that he’s not allowed to have these kinds of thoughts, that he’s wrong for feeling this way.
So when Barry gathers Wally in his arms and hugs him tightly, Wally’s so surprised at the absence of pain that he doesn’t fight it.
“No, Wally—God, no,” Barry says into his hair. “Don’t be sorry.” He pulls back and takes Wally’s face in his hands, swiping away the tears with his thumbs. “There is nothing wrong with you wanting to kiss boys,” he says. “Nothing.”
But the church two streets from Wally’s house says differently on their billboard. The kids at school, the ones who call each other queer and homo like being either of those things is something horrible, they say otherwise. The kids who Kid Flash has seen on the streets, homeless or beaten or both for daring to drift an inch outside the norm are cautionary tales.
Wally bites his lip and wrings his blanket in his fists. “The people at school said I’m screwed up. That liking guys is wrong, and—” His breath hitches, stealing his voice as he hiccups a sob.
Barry just hugs him tighter, his chin pressing into the top of Wally’s head. “No,” he murmurs. “Nothing you’re feeling is wrong, and you don’t need to be ashamed of it. If you think you’re gay or bisexual or...even if you’re just experimenting, it’s all perfectly okay. I promise.”
Wally cries into Barry’s shoulder.