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Wally wakes up to an empty bed.
It’s not that unusual, but instinct tells him something’s wrong.
He gets up, rubbing his eyes and yawning as he makes his way down the hall.
Dick’s sitting at the dining table, with all the lights off. Slumping at the table is more accurate. He looks small, and vulnerable, and nothing like the guy who flips around cracking jokes and punching criminals while dressed in distractingly tight spandex.
He looks… broken, almost. Like all the strings that hold him up when he’s around other people have been cut.
“Hey babe.”
Dick startles slightly, twisting around in his chair. “Oh. Hi.” Wally turns the lamp on, smiling when Dick scrunches his nose at the sudden change in lighting. Even with terrible bedhead and dark circles under his eyes, he’s still the most beautiful person Wally’s ever seen.
Wally pokes him. “So. You’re just sitting here. Alone. In the dark. At,” he glances at the clock, “3am. I know it’s probably the equivalent of afternoon tea time for you, but still.” Dick smiles, but Wally can tell his heart’s not in it. Wally places a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Seriously dude. You ok?”
Dick sighs. “I’m fine, Walls. Go back to bed, ‘k? I just have some… stuff on my mind.” He stands, grabbing his coffee cup and moving to refill it.
‘Stuff on my mind’ means he’s definitely not fine. Dick being not fine at this hour usually means nightmares. And nightmares usually mean-
“Who was it this time?” Wally asks softly. Dick stiffens, keeping his back turned.
Sometimes it’s Bruce, abandoning his son for not being good enough. Sometimes it’s Jason, dying over and over again while Dick watches uselessly, unable to do anything but cry. Sometimes it’s Barbara, Tim, Alfred-
Dick’s whisper is so soft Wally almost doesn’t hear it. “It was you.”
Oh.
Oh.
Wally speeds over, wrapping his arms around Dick’s waist and burying his face in his shoulder. “I’m here. I’m sorry.”
Dick takes a shaky breath. “It’s not your fault.”
Wally hugs him tighter. “I wasn’t there for you when you needed me.” Dick laughs, and it’s hollow and it’s broken but it’s a laugh.
“As if you could’ve done anything about it. I know you would’ve come back sooner if you could. I don’t blame you. For anything.”
Wally sighs, turning him around so they can look at each other. Dick’s eyes are red, and he’s trying to hide just how much pain he’s in. But Wally can tell, and his heart breaks a little. “No. You just blame yourself.” He rests his forehead against Dick’s. “I love you. You know that, right?”
Dick’s quiet for a long time, and Wally closes his eyes, holding him close. He isn’t expecting it when Dick speaks.
“I can’t lose you again.” His voice is weak and wounded and he’s crying and something in Wally breaks, because this is the person he’s loved for years, the person he’s grown up with and looked up to; and Dick’s just a boy, really, just a sad, broken boy who’s gone through so much and lost so many people.
Wally wipes the tears off his face and kisses him softly and says the only thing he can think of.
“You won’t.”