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His uniform was laying in a heap of yellow and crimson on his bedroom floor. Overlapping it was the still-wet towel he’d dropped after his shower. Sitting on his bed with the window cracked open to let in the hot summer night, Wally adjusted the computer in his lap. The moment he hit the little blue call button, his screen lit up in bright white, and a pulsating icon. The familiar tone of a Skype call waiting to be answered filled his room. Wally blinked in the dark, turning down both the brightness and the volume on his laptop. Pushing the damp hair out of his eyes, he leaned over to turn on his bedside lamp - just enough light to be visible through his shitty webcam.
It was just about midnight on a Saturday night. Wally had gotten home barely an hour ago from a mission in New Mexico with the Team. The house had been dark when he’d gotten in from the empty streets, save for the static glow of the TV shining through the window. Creeping in through the front door, he’d found his Dad asleep on the recliner in the living room, snoring uneasily with a half-empty beer can in his hand. Not a beast he wanted to disturb. Wally had managed to get up to his bedroom without disturbing him, showering down the hall without likewise waking his Mom. It was nice on nights like these - he got in so late it felt almost like he had the house to himself.
No one was awake at this hour. With the window open, Wally could hear the crickets and cicadas filling the night, but that was it. No cars, no voices walking below his window on the sidewalk. It was an hour of rare peace. Outside, the glow of the distant city covered all but a few persistent stars, and illuminated the black silhouettes of the powerlines and the oak tree across the street. The fresh breeze was a welcome relief to to the stale air of his home. Quiet tones rang from his laptop as he waited for an answer. His own reflection, in the little window from his webcam at the edge of the screen, popped up and betrayed just how anxious he was for the call. Again, he shook his fingers through his wet hair.
All at once, the ringtone of the Skype call silenced, and a new ambient noise took its place. The screen flashed for a moment before shifting into the large window, a blurry image clarifying into something a little more familiar. Dick squinted at the screen, as if trying to get his own end into focus. From what Wally could see as the image settled, he was sitting out on a balcony, overlooking a sprawling city with a rising mountain in the background. He seemed to be at a table at a far end, with the expanse of balcony spreading out behind him, a modern design of white rails and sliding doors. There looked to be another figure out there, just behind the glass in the sliding doors, but in his excitement, Wally didn’t pay it any immediate mind.
“Dick?” he said, trying to keep his voice just low enough that he wouldn’t attract any attention from is sleeping parents. “You there?”
“Yeah, I’m here,” Dick responded, finally moving into frame so Wally could see his face properly. It was about mid-day on Dick’s end, the sun glaring into the camera. There was a stutter in the video feed. “Wally? Can you hear-... llo? Wa-... ear me?”
Wally frowned. “I can hear you, babe, you’re just cutting out.”
It took a minute for the video to stop lagging, but once it did, the sound became clear and Wally was left grinning back at Dick through the monitor. Dick shifted in the chair he’d taken up, adjusting his laptop to get into frame better. “All good?”
Wally smiled. “Yeah, all good. What time is it over there?”
Dick had been in Japan with Bruce and Jason for the past two weeks. The distance shouldn’t have felt as wide as it did. Afterall, they lived half a country away from each other as it was, but being unable to use the zetabeam network to visit each other had made the separation feel that much more definitive. It hadn’t been an overly long time, but sue them - they missed each other. Wally could barely sleep some nights without the warm weight of Dick laying on top of him. It was ridiculous. They’d gone longer without seeing each other for longer plenty of times. Wally had never realized that he could crave a person so badly.
“Almost 2pm,” Dick replied. “We just got back to the hotel from the Skytree this morning. It was basically just for press photos, but Jason was losing his mind over it. He kept jumping in the elevator until Bruce told him to knock it off.”
“He’s having fun, huh?”
“Yeah, it’s his first time in Tokyo, so he’s living it up,” Dick laughed.
Shifting his laptop against his knees, Wally leaned back against his headboard. As he did, he spotted movement in the background of Dick’s feed. The sliding door shifted open just enough for a small body to squeeze its way out. The sound was unclear with the distance, but he could hear just enough to make out Jason’s voice. “Is that Wally?”
Dick groaned, leaning back in his chair to address his brother. “Yeah.”
“Did you tell him about the Skytree?”
“I literally just did.”
“Hey, Wally!” Jason called out, trying to get closer to the camera only to be impeded by Dick sticking his foot out against his chest. “You should come with us next time. The tower’s so tall that time moves faster on the observation deck by like a five trillionth of a second.”
“Next time,” Wally laughed. “I’ll crash a Wayne vacay when there aren’t so many cameras around.”
Jason swatted Dick’s foot away, managing to get in close enough that his face took up the whole of the screen before Dick could shove him away. “Lame!”
“Jay, go back inside!” Dick shouted.
“Why dontcha make me, Dicholas?”
Dick retaliated by throwing an empty water bottle at him. Jason smacked it out of the air before it could hit his face, sending it tumbling over the balcony edge and down toward the city street below. Dick and Jason both stared at the balcony rail for a beat, before Jason looked back at him.
“Littering’s a crime, y’know.”
“Alright, that’s it,” Dick lunged out of his chair, wrangling his arms around the younger boy. They wrestled across the balcony, until an unintelligible call from Bruce inside made Jason pause just long enough for Dick to overpower him. It took a bit of shoving still, but Dick managed to force Jason back inside their penthouse suite and pull the sliding door shut. Finally, with the interruption dealt with, Dick dropped back into his chair by the computer. Wally had spent the entire confrontation laughing into the camera, and the smile hadn’t vanished by the time Dick returned. His boyfriend made a face. “Shut up.”
“I didn’t say anything,” Wally raised his hands in surrender. He’d just barely gotten the words out before a yawn betrayed him.
Dick shifted in his chair, finding a comfortable position again and adjusting the laptop screen. “You tired?”
“Nah, I’m good,” Wally fibbed. “Had a late mission tonight, is all.”
“You sure? Just go to sleep if you need to, I don’t mind. We can call later.”
Wally shook his head. “No way. I’ve been looking forward to this all day. I’m not tapping out now.”
Dick smiled back at him through the camera. it would have been a trick of the light, but he could have sworn he saw his cheeks get a little pink. Wally’s heart raced, and his own grin widened. Outside, the night was still, the moon just beginning to crest in the corner of the open window. It was a stark contrast to the sunny day in Japan that he was seeing through the computer screen. It only hammered home the distance between the two of them.
Dick cleared his throat. “Have you checked your mail lately? I sent you something a couple days ago, should have been there by now.”
“Really? Haven’t gotten anything yet,” Wally frowned. “I check it pretty much every day on my way home from school.”
“Probably just got backed up,” Dick shrugged. “Call me when it comes in, okay? I wanna see you open it.”
“Why, what is it?”
Dick rolled his eyes. “I’m not gonna tell you!” he laughed. “It’s nothing major, just some little things I thought you might like.”
Wally turned on his side, moving the laptop onto the mattress beside him so he could lay down on his side. “That’s cute, babe,” he smiled. A set of heavy footsteps coming up the stairs had Wally’s smile vanishing in an instant. Wally’s eyes shot up above the laptop screen and toward his door. He held his breath, watching as a shadow fell across the bottom of his door from out in the hall.
“Wally?” his father’s gruff voice cut through the midnight quiet. “Who the hell are you talking to?”
Wally muttered a soft “shit” under his breath, scrambling off the bed to get to the door. The moment he opened it, the creek of the hinges far too loud in the hallway, his father was there. Wally didn’t need to look hard to see it - the way he leaned against the door frame with a too-heavy hand, the acrid stench of hops and rye on his breath, the simmering irritation in his red-rimmed eyes as he stared down at him. Wally had to clench his jaw just to keep from sighing in his own frustration, knowing even one wrong look was enough to set him off. “I’m just talking to Dick,” he replied evenly.
Rudolph scoffed, his lip twitching in distaste under his mustache. “You don’t need to be talking to anyone this late.”
Wally slipped his hands into the front pocket of his sweater. “He’s in Tokyo. Different time zone.”
“Don’t get smart,” Rudolph barked.
Again, he had to keep a neutral face. Wally simply shrugged. “It was the only time we could talk today. Won’t be up long.”
Rudolph did not budge. Stubborn as he was, neither did Wally. Standing on either side of the doorway, Rudolph refused to be the first to tear his sharp gaze away from his son, the two of them caught in a standoff until finally Rudolph seemed to sway on his feet. His iron grip on the doorframe kept him from moving, but Wally did not miss the heavy way his foot came out to support him. Rudolph’s eyes at last snapped away, only to narrow in on the uniform and towels sitting in the corner. “Get that shit off your floor,” he grunted, giving a rough push off the door before stumbling down the all to the master bedroom. Wally stood there until the door had shut behind him, and even then, a moment longer in the silent house. Releasing a long breath all at once, Wally closed the door as quietly as possible and made his way back over to his bed.
Dick frowned as he watched Wally get re-situated, giving him a minute before speaking again. “Everything okay?” he asked. The concern in his voice was clear and painful as anything.
“Hm? Yeah, of course,” Wally tried to play it off, knowing full well that he wasn’t fooling his boyfriend. Lifting the crook of his elbow to his mouth, he tried to mask another yawn into the sleeve of his sweatshirt. “When do you come back?”
“Not for another week. And no zetabeam transports until then. Sorry,” Dick replied.
“Hey, you’ve got nothing to apologise for,” Wally shrugged. “It is what it is. I’m just glad we’ve got the chance to talk.”
“You’re sure you’re not too tired?”
Wally smirked back at his boyfriend. “I could stay up for hours, babe.”
“Good,” Dick smiled back. “Because I’m pretty sure Jason just locked me outside. I might be here for a while.”
.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.
Wally couldn’t remember what time it was when he’d ended his call with Dick and fallen asleep. He could barely remember saying goodnight, and clearly hadn’t gotten far after shutting his laptop. It was still on the bed with him, flipped upside down in a tangle of his blanket. What Wally did know was that he hadn’t gotten nearly enough sleep before his mother was knocking on his door, telling him to get up and get dressed. They were going to Church. Wally had groaned and rolled over, moaning something inaudible about them going without him. He’d only been shaken out of bed by his father’s fist pounding on the door minutes later, and the boom of his voice shouting at him to get up.
It’d started a few months ago. After his parents found out about him and Dick, they’d tried to drag Wally to Church every Sunday morning. They’d gone regularly like this when he was a kid, but hadn’t attended quite as often as Wally grew up - or at least they hadn’t make him go along with them as much. In these past months, however, they’d grown increasingly forceful. Neither of them said anything directly about, but Wally knew exactly what his Dad was trying to accomplish here. It didn’t need to be said. Wally tried to avoid it when he could, claiming missions or patrol or staying overnight at the Cave as an excuse.
He couldn’t always get out of it, though. And so, Wally found himself sitting in the pews of the old white chapel that morning. He’d thrown on a blue button-down shirt and grey pants that were wrinkled enough for him mom to tut at him as he walked out the door. His hair was combed, and for all the world, he looked like any “Good-mannered, Mid-western Christian boy”. He looked like he fit in here, like he wasn’t burning up in his seat, feeling the wood splinters in his back as he slumped against the pew. The droning of the preacher giving his sermon, was background noise, ignored with years of practice as his eyes travelled over the paint chipping off the walls and the cracked floor tiles. There was a cobweb above the altar that looked like it’d been growing for twenty years already.
A light buzz in his pocket grabbed his attention. With a subtle movement that once again came from years of practice, Wally slipped his phone out of his pocket just enough to see the screen. It was a text from Dick, an attachment that he opened to find a picture of a bowl of soba, and a rooftop view of Tokyo at night. The third picture came a moment later, a napkin that Dick had used to draw a soy sauce heart on with the end of a chopstick. Wally smiled down at his phone.
A sharp elbow jab from his mother and a hiss in his ear drew him back to the service. “Wally,” Mary snapped, keeping her voice hushed but no less severe.
Wally sighed, slipping his phone back into his pocket. If he could at least pretend to listen to the rest of the service, he could make it through to the end without getting his phone confiscated. Maybe he could even retain a sliver of his sanity in the process. The place wasn’t nearly as full as Wally remembered it being when he was a kid. The back rows were empty, save for a few stragglers who’d come in late. Otherwise, there were only a handful of other parishioners there, all sitting upright and attentive in their seats, seeming to hang onto every word.
Eyes trailing over the steeple in search of anything to stare blankly at for the next twenty minutes, Wally’s attention eventually drifted toward the windows. It was difficult to see clearly through the frosted and tinted glass, but he could just barely see the darkening clouds on the horizon, creeping towards Keystone from over the fields.
“...pray that the Sinners of this world, His World, come to see the evil of their ways...”
His father clearing his throat just loud enough to pointedly get his attention had Wally looking back at him. Mary was staring straight ahead at the pulpit, and Rudolph was doing the same beside her, though it wasn’t without straightening up in his seat and nodding along - all once he was sure Wally was looking. The preacher at the front of the church continued on, speaking in a monotone drone that all the same did not dampen the fierce conviction in his words. If anything, it only made them hit harder.
“As men and women of God it is our duty to protect Christian values, the traditional family, the sanctity of marriage as He alone ordains it,” the preacher continued, his thing whisps of white hair almost indistinguishable from the cobwebs above his head. “Banish wicked thoughts! Banish impure thoughts, and trust in the Lord’s plan...”
Wally couldn’t take it anymore.
Barely sparing the time to mumble “I’m going to the washroom” to his mother, Wally stood from the pew, before Mary could reach for his wrist. He walked out into side aisle, shoving his hands in his pockets, and walking out as the preacher continued on without missing a beat. If anyone turned to watch him leave, he couldn’t see it. He did not look back. Pushing through the oak doors, Wally stepped outside and let them swing shut behind him. The fresh air flooded over him, flushing through his lungs. His chest felt too tight. He could have screamed for all the pressure building up in him, ready to burst.
Things is, nothing he’d heard in there was anything new. Wally had been listening to this bullshit all his life. He’d been forced to sit through every God damned Sunday his parents had dragged him out here. He knew exactly what those people in there would think of him, and he didn’t care for a second about that. It was his parents sitting alongside them and nodding their heads along with people who hated their son.
It wasn’t outright rejection, and that’s almost what hurt more. It was an expectation that if they just got through to him, he’d be normal. That he was just being difficult.
Wally walked to the side of the chapel, overlooking the cemetery and the grove of trees before the rolling fields. He leaned back against the wall, feeling the aged siding dig into his back. Closing his eyes, Wally tilted his head back and pressed the heel of his palm between his eyes. From here, he could still hear the voice of the preacher, though the words were unclear. It rang in his ears. Wally breathed in through his nose, counting down as he exhaled. He was more angry than upset, but telling himself that didn’t make it any easier to breathe. He wanted to burst at the seams just to relieve the pressure. He wanted to scream out into the empty expanse of rolling fields until he was the echo that came back because there was nothing else to answer him.
But, as it was, Wally was quiet.
He couldn’t go back in there. He’d sneak into the back row at the end of the service, tell his parents that he hadn’t wanted to disturb anyone by walking back to their pew, and just hope they’d leave it alone. Going back and sitting through another second of that just wasn’t an option. When at last Wally felt like he could breathe without fanning the fire burning in his ribcage, he dropped his hand from his eyes. Maybe it was just the lack of sleep, he told himself. He could usually put up with the more pointed sermons without paying them much mind, but today was different. Today, he wasn’t willing to put himself through that kind of torture.
At least it was a decent morning, he thought. Sure enough, there were dark storm clouds boiling over the horizon, but here in this field on the outskirts of Keystone, the sun was out and the air was warm. A precarious wind swept over the fields, rattling the wheat stalks and the corn. It took every inconsiderable ounce of self-control he had not to take off running. He could imagine it, the rushing release of movement, pushing his powers until he was spent. He could do it. Wally could run straight down the golden centre of the horizon until neither Keystone nor Central City were a blip in his sight. Straight out to the West coast.
Wally felt the pull so strong he nearly took a step from the wall. For just a moment, he stood a little straighter, feeling the intense build-up of his powers crackling around his body. It was only a deep rumble of thunder from those clouds on the opposite horizon that likely kept him from giving in. The wind picked up into another rolling breeze. It shook through the trees overlooking the cemetery, brushing through the unkempt grass. Dozens of headstones stood scattered throughout the graveyard, catching the morning sunlight just before it faded behind the oncoming clouds.
He’d hate to be one of the poor bastards stuck here for eternity.
.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.
The rain started on the drive home. If his folks had noticed he’d only slipped back in at the end of the service, they didn’t say anything. Wally sat in the back seat of the car, leaning against the window as he watched the droplets on the glass distort his view of the town. The ride was entirely quiet, save for the scratchy hum of the radio. His father drove with his knuckles white on the wheel, and his mother sat in the passenger seat with her ankles crossed and her purse sitting in her lap, the both of them blank-faced as they stared at the road ahead. Wally only looked up to catch his dad’s steely gaze in the rearview mirror once before looking away with a deep frown.
The car hadn’t rolled to a complete stop in the driveway before Wally was opening the door and jumping out. He walked up the front porch steps, paying no mind to the rain, as he unlocked the front door and went straight up to his bedroom. The moment the door shut behind him, he shook his fingers through his neatly combed hair. Wally shed his button-down in favour of the same grey hoodie from last night, kicking his trousers off into the same pile in the corner of the room where his towels and uniform still sat.
After slipping on a pair of black jogging pants, Wally sat on the edge of his bed and pulled out his phone. Downstairs, he could just hear his parents getting inside, his father constantly speaking over any attempt from his mom to get a word on. What they were saying was unclear, but Wally didn’t care to listen anyway. He pulled up Barry’s contact, typing out a quick text.
Any chance the world needs saving today? WW
Or the country. WW
Even the city. WW
I’ll take a kitten up a tree. WW
The little ellipsis under Barry’s name popped up the second after Wally hit send. He damn near held his breath waiting for an answer.
All’s quiet today, kid. BA
Why? Everything okay? BA
Wally deflated. Glancing up from the phone at the sound of heavy footsteps on the stairs, Wally quickly typed out a reply.
Yeah, just fine. WW
No sooner had he hit send that his bedroom door swung open. Wally’s head snapped up, startled even in spite of the warning, and shoved his phone into his sweater pocket.
Rudolph stood in the doorway, looking closer to a bull rearing up to charge than anything resembling a man. “Oh, of course,” he rolled his eyes, gesturing wildly at Wally. “Of course you’re on your damn phone. Do you ever put that fucking thing down?”
Wally exhaled, still making an attempt at keeping his own temper in check. “I was just talking to Uncle Barry,” he replied - a bit of a dig on his part, knowing how much his father hated his uncle. “It’s not a big deal.”
“Then why are you always so quick to hide it?” Rudolph sneered, stomping into the middle of the room to leer over his son. “What are you always texting about that you’re so intent on hiding, huh?”
Clutching his phone so hard in his pocket he was almost afraid he’d crack the screen, Wally stood up off his bed to face his father at full height. “I’m not hiding anything,” Wally insisted, struggling now to keep his voice controlled. “It’s just a private conversation. It’s none of your business.”
Rudolph scoffed again, that over-the-top head roll he used to get his way through mocking, as if this whole argument were beneath him - as if he wasn’t the one to start it. Wally wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of getting a reaction out of him. Not in his own bedroom. He stuck his head down, walking around Rudolph and sharply pulling his shoulder out of his grasp when he tried to grab him. Wally walked down the stairs, Rudolph unrelenting as he followed after him.
“I decide what’s my business in my own house, do you understand me?” Rudolph roared. Deliberately pushing his way in front of Wally once they’d reached the foyer, he blocked him off from the kitchen. Mary sat at the dining table, her forehead leaning into her hand as she read through the paper. She did not look up once from the print. “You spend all your fucking time talking to your friends. Do you have any idea how much that’s wasting on long-distance?”
Wally clenched his jaw. Rudolph was making no effort to hide what he was really arguing about at this point, and it wasn’t just him texting Barry. “It’s over the internet. It doesn’t even cost long distance. Besides, you’re not paying for my phone, why should you care?”
“Don’t you talk back to me!” Rudolph shouted, pointing a shaking finger in Wally’s face. “You embarrassed your mother and I today.” Wally rolled his eyes, using a fair bit of speed to step around his father and toward the front door. Only more infuriated, Rudolph turned on him. “When you’re in Church, when you’re in my fucking house, you pay attention!” he roared. “You don’t spend all your fucking time staring at your phone, talking to your friend!”
Wally stopped. He was just a step away from the door, but he couldn’t move any further. Shoulders square, Wally turned to face his father head-on. “Boyfriend,” he corrected with a low, forced calm. Every syllable dripped with cold fury. “Say it, Dad. He’s not my friend, he’s my boyfriend. Dick. Richard Grayson. Your faggot son’s boyfriend! Say it!”
It was a moment of silence in the aftermath of his voice, but it was a moment too long. His chest smouldering as fire raced up his throat, Wally stood in the foyer trying to catch his breath. He refused to tear his gaze away from his father’s. Rudolph said nothing. He couldn’t even bring out a retort, either couldn’t think of anything to say or deemed Wally unworthy of the effort. Wally turned on his heel, yanking his house keys out of the bowl by the front door. He’d stormed out and slammed the door shut behind him before his mother could get a word out from the dining table. Wally saw her in the window out of the corner of his eye, watching him walk out into the rain, as he pulled his hood up over his head.
The rain had abated to a light drizzle by then. Hands shoved into the pockets, Wally walked through puddles down the sidewalk of his neighbourhood. It was turning toward noon by now, and what little sunlight that managed to peak through the clouds was hazy and diffused in the humid air. Wally could feel the rain slowly soaking into the tops of his head and shoulders, dragging his hair down onto his forehead, making his pants stick to his skin. Still, the rain itself was a cool relief from the hot air. The scent of it was heavy, muddled with mowed grass and petrichor.
Wally wished he could have said he felt better with every corner he turned, walking further and further from his house. In a way, the anger left him, dripped down into the storm drains lining the streets. He didn’t feel any better though. He was just left feeling empty. Wally walked without any real direction until he’d made it to his school. Standing outside the fence, he stared in at the empty building and the damp green pitch. He was the only one out. It was a miserable Sunday afternoon. Anyone in their right minds would be inside. Wally was almost grateful for that, though. The solace was comforting. Pressing his forehead against the wire fence as he sorted through these thoughts, Wally pulled back as he felt a sharp buzz in his pocket. Slipping his phone out, the screen flashed with Barry’s name.
Hey. Your Mom just called Iris, said you and your Dad got into it. BA
Where are you now? BA
Why don’t you come over here? We can go for a run if you want, blow off some steam. BA
Wally told himself, and adamantly too, that it was the rain getting in his eyes when his vision blurred. Rubbing at his eyes with the knit edge of his sleeve, Wally typed out his reply.
Thanks, Barry. I’m alright, though. WW
Just out taking a walk. WW
Barry’s reply was almost instant.
Alright, kid. You do what you need to. BA
But I’m here if you need me, okay? BA
Okay. WW
Wally couldn’t quite articulate a response. It was all he could do just to send that one word, but he knew his Uncle would understand. He’d needed to hear it. Slipping his phone back into his pocket, Wally turned from the school and continued down the street. He walked through the familiar suburb, streets where he rode his bike as a kid and played until the streetlights came on, as if he were a complete stranger. Wally knew this little corner of town by heart, could walk it in his sleep, but he felt as he walked aimlessly as if he’d never been there in his life. With the gentle rain soaking through his clothes, Wally walked and walked until at last he’d turned one corner...
And ended up back home. Standing across the intersection, Wally stared back at his own house and for a second he didn’t recognize it. The light was on in the living room, shining too-warm light out onto the wet pavement and reflecting in the puddles. Wally had walked around the entire neighbourhood, and he’d ended up back home without even realising.
God... he needed to get out of here.
Wally thought about turning around, making another round, but in the end the damp clothes were beginning to chill him to the bone. Passing his mailbox on the other side of the street, Wally paused and turned back two steps. There was no mail on Sundays, he thought as he fished out his key and open his family’s slot. There was no point in looking, but if it meant stalling outside another minute, he didn’t mind.
He almost missed it, but as Wally began to close the little steel door after finding the slot empty, the reflected light glinted off something in the back. Wally frowned, ducking down to get a better look. There, in the back, a small silver key sat connected to a plastic slate listing off the number of a larger compartment. Wally thrust his hand inside to get the key, hastily shutting his own slot before fumbling to open the compartment it matched. Sitting inside was a cardboard box all wrapped up in plastic and stamped with half a dozen labels. Dick’s familiar handwriting had been scrawled across the side with Wally’s name and address. All the way from Tokyo. Wally shoved the key back into the mail slot, tucked the parcel under his arm, and jogged back up his front porch.
The house was deathly silent the moment he walked in. It wasn’t so much walking on eggshells as it was navigating a minefield, as Wally slipped off his shoes and walked inside. Rudolph was already passed out on the sofa in front of the football game. Wally’s shoulders sagged in relief. His mom was sitting on the sofa across from him, and did no so much as look up from her book when Wally entered the house again. Holding the package a little closer against his side, Wally continued up the stairs and to his bedroom.
He set the text to Dick before he had the chance to consider that it was 2am in Tokyo.
Got the package. WW
To his surprise, however, Dick responded immediately.
Skype? DG
Far from in the mood to deny him anything, Wally set up on his bed with his laptop, accepting the call request just as he’d settled back against his pillows. It was darker on Dick’s end, only the pale light of the screen serving to illuminate his face. Wally could just make out a window somewhere behind him, with the dotted lights of the city peering through. Dick was lying in bed, he figured, with a blanket half pulled up over his head. He couldn’t even get in a hello before he was yawning into his fist.
“Sorry babe, forgot how late it is over there,” Wally whispered.
Dick waved him off as he fought back another yawn. His eyes were heavy, black hair a mess at every angle - and unfairly adorable. “No, s’fine. I wanted to watch you open it. Go ahead.”
Wally had to use the edge of his key just to get all the tape and wrapping off. It drew more than a few amused laughs from Dick, watching him struggle with the box. Finally, he managed to tear the flaps open, revealing a postcard of the Tokyo skyline nestled on top of a layer of bubble wrap. The subdued smile crept onto his mouth before Wally’s even realized it, as he plucked the postcard from the box and turned it over. A section of kanji had been written out in gel pen across the back. “You wrote it in Japanese?” he shook his head.
Dick nodded, hugging a pillow to his chest with a tired smile. “Mhm. Took me half an hour even with Google,” he replied. “There’s a translation on the bottom.”
Wally scanned down to the bottom half of the postcard, reading aloud. “I miss your face. Hopefully next time I can drag you on a trip like this with me. See you soon, babe.”
Wally set the postcard aside. Peeling the bubble wrap back, he found the box had been stuffed with a dozen small souvenirs; Kit Kats with flavours he’d never head of before, from Strawberry Cheesecake to Baked Sweet Potato, a wind-up woodlice toy, an obscenely cute tanuki plush, and what particularly caught Wally’s eye, a sealed tin can with nothing in it. Wally lifted it from the box, turning it over his hands. “What’s this?”
Dick grinned, eyes heavy as he blinked. “Air from the top of Mount Fuji. They sell it in cans at the gift shop.”
Wally had to bit his lip just to keep from laughing too loud, but it did nothing to smother his grin. “Why would you buy that?”
Dick didn’t answer right away. He shrugged, a satisfied gleam in his eyes as he stared back at Wally through the camera. “I thought it’d make you smile,” he replied honestly.
Something so simple shouldn’t have hit him so hard. The rain was picking up again outside, the heavier clouds rolling in and turning the streets outside dark and grey. Wally’s window was still open just enough to hear the rushing of the rainfall. He turned the can over in his palm one more time before setting it back in the box, his hand trailing over each of the little souvenirs.
“Wally?” Dick murmured, shifting a little closer to the camera when Wally’s silence stretched on for too long. “You okay?”
Wally had to remind himself to take in a deep breath before he nodded, but he managed. It was all just a lot. “Yeah,” he choked. “Yeah, I’m good. I just... I really miss you.” Dick’s soft exhale said enough on its own. Wally moved the box onto his nightstand, shifting down in bed and setting his laptop on an empty pillow and laying on his side. It wasn’t quite the same, but if he closed his eyes he could at least pretend Dick was in the same room. He missed the weight of his body on top of him when they napped together, he missed feeling the even breaths against his cheek, he missed playing with Dick’s hair just because he knew it soothed him so much.
This was how a person could feel like home, like the closest thing he'd get to any heaven that existed, and Wally felt it like a physical ache in his chest.
“So,” he began once he was sure he could speak without his voice cracking, “what’re you doing up?”
Dick fluffed the pillow under his head, holding it closer. “Couldn’t sleep,” he confessed. “I miss you too.”