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Wally dragged his feet, favoring his left leg, as he walked into the kitchen. He opened the fridge and scanned it silently, not really registering what he saw. Wally belatedly realized he was staring down a dish of lasagna he and Dick had made about three days ago during one of their midnight cooking sessions. If Wally wasn’t completely exhausted, he might have laughed at the fact that they were both up because of nightmares about their parents. Albeit they had very different roles in the near-constant night terrors. But Wally supposed it just came with the territory.
He reached out to take the dish from the fridge, carefully minding the ever-present tremor in his hands, exasperated by exhaustion and hunger. He could practically hear his stomach growl at the promise of food, even without his hearing aids. That reminded him. He needed to clean them out and change the batteries. After having been worn for more than two days straight, it was a miracle they didn't give up on him sooner.
Wally wasn’t even sure he wanted to put them on tomorrow. The screams he could hear even without assistance burned into his head, and the images were clear imprints on his retinas when he closed his eyes. The smell of smoke in the air felt like it would never dissipate, and the taste of iron weighed heavily on his tongue. God, he had a headache.
His face screwed up as he concentrated on getting a good grip on the dish. He would feel awful if he dropped it. Not only would there be glass to clean up, but losing food is upsetting.
Especially when he knew that there wasn’t anything else in the fridge to satisfy their hunger quickly.
Eventually, he was able to get a half-decent grasp on the dish, enough for him to quickly move it to the counter. Hopefully.
He pulled it up and off the shelf of the fridge, his sore arms screaming in protest. Compared to his legs, it was easily ignorable.
He pulls the dish close to his chest for extra support. He turned around, only to come face to face with the Boy Wonder himself. He jumped back, his grip suddenly faltering. Dick quickly reached out and held the bottom for stability.
Wally sighed and nodded when he got a good grasp on the lasagna again, and Dick dropped his hand. Before any more accidents happened, he quickly set it on the counter and turned to face the oven. He punched in 350 degrees and turned to his friend while he waited for the oven to preheat.
Dick looked as exhausted as he felt. The bags that were permanently under his eyes were more pronounced than usual. A line of bruises colored his neck like a grotesque collar, and a hideous gouge caused the right side of his costume to become an even deeper red. He could see the bandages tied under the shirt around his midsection, formerly bloodied and soaked through when he last saw him a few minutes ago, now stark white. He forced a smile onto his lips as he signed. He gestured towards Dick before pointing his index finger at his eye then pointing his thumb and pinky outwards and shaking it side to side slightly. Then he made two ‘V’s with his index and middle fingers, brought them up to his face and slid them outwards, closing his fingers as he went.
‘You look like a raccoon.’
Even he could tell that the joke fell flat. Dick stared at him for a second before his body seemingly caught up with his mind, and he wrinkled his nose at him. He could practically feel the eye roll from behind the mask. Despite Dick’s clear distaste for the joke, if it could really be called that and not a pitiful attempt to lighten the mood that threatened to crush them all, he didn’t say anything. Rather, he just looked at the lasagna inquisitively and raised a brow at the speedster, a curious look on his face.
Wally glanced at the pasta, noting the gap where the two had each grabbed a piece to eat during the night they made it. The original plan, as always, was to tell the others about the new food in the fridge, but they had been sidetracked not even an hour later by the alarm. Even Wally barely had time to cover it in plastic and shove it in the fridge so it wouldn’t go bad.
He pointed towards himself, then pointed at his temple and leaned towards the finger, then pointed from his right shoulder and moved across to his left. He then pointed down, bouncing his fist once, then made a flat fist, and tapped his mouth once. He put his hands together, palms facing him and thumbs sticking out, and moved his right hand closer to him. Then he spread his fingers slightly above his forehead and moved them down to his chin, closing them as he went. ' I thought we should eat before sleeping.'
As an addendum, he made a horizontal okay sign and pointed his index finger up at it as he jerked it up, then pointed his index and thumb so they were parallel to each other and tucked the rest of his fingers into a fist to make the sign for ‘G’ ‘ Especially Garth. ’
Wally forwent spelling Garth’s name, shortening it to just the first letter. Dick nodded, and Wally assumed he hummed in confirmation as people sometimes do. He remembered when Roy first joined the Titans, he would keep his answers short and would hum or grunt at him in a frankly pathetic excuse of a reply. He seemed to get the hint after Wally asked if a seat was taken and just stared at him when no verbal response was given. Donna still likes to tease him about how flustered he got after Wally “stared unblinkingly” at him for a solid ten seconds. Personally, Wally thinks that’s an exaggeration.
In addition to Garth, who hadn’t eaten dinner the night they were called in, Roy insisted on eating last when it came to gone-bad missions. He wanted to make sure the others ate enough and assert that the scraps that were left were okay. If he didn’t tell Wally to eat what was left. Wally didn’t need hearing aids to hear his stomach growl or see how pale he was. And don’t even get him started on how bad the archer was at hiding his hunger pains. However, he supposed that wasn’t necessarily a skill someone should have. And definitely not one to employ among friends. That’s what everyone, including Roy, especially Roy, told him.
Freaking hypocrite.
The pair stood there for a while, somewhat awkwardly. The two were used to long silences between them, as Wally didn’t particularly like talking without his hearing aids. He’s always had trouble with volume control and apparently overcorrects it when he can’t hear himself speak. It leads to him muttering so quietly he wonders if even Superman could pick up on what he says.
He stared at Dick expectantly, his lips more specifically, waiting for him to talk. The other boy glanced down at his leg, his face screwing up slightly at the sight of the lacerations that painted his left leg in the hues of exposed muscle, blood, and bruises. It hurt a lot, but it had healed somewhat. At least it wasn’t bleeding as heavily as before, some of the wounds starting to scab over. He should probably clean it off before it gets infected. Not that he got sick from it, but it was a pain in the ass to deal with.
His eyes snapped down to the Boy Wonder’s hands as he signed. He pointed both fingers up and moved them to point to the door. Then he pulled his left hand up, spread his fingers, pointed at his palm, and gestured towards the door again. For good measure, he held up two fingers and crossed them, making sure Wally got the hint. ‘ Go show Roy. ’
Wally rolled his eyes. He gestured towards himself and splayed his fingers out, touching his thumb to his chest and flicking it out towards Dick. ‘ I’m fine. ’
Dick’s lip curled as his eyes bulged. He looked at Wally in disbelief, throwing his hands out in an ‘are you serious’ gesture. Wally shrugged. He pulled his hands toward himself, fingertips grazing his shoulders, then suddenly thrusting them out and making fists. ‘ I heal. ’
Dick shook his head, crossing his arms, then opening them up again. He made two ‘V’ shapes with his hands and stacked them, shaking them twice, before pointing towards the door once again. ‘ Don’t care. Go. ’
Wally looked down at his leg, examining the wounds closely. It looked worse than it was. Nothing he hadn’t dealt with before, and the pain wasn’t nearly as bad as the time Mammoth broke his leg. The sight of part of his femur sticking through his skin is a memory he doubted he’d ever forget.
Wally put a hand on his chest before raising it and opening and closing it quickly, then held up one finger to the side of his face and curled it down. ‘ I’ll shower first. ’ He thought for a moment, then moved his hands away from his body, brought them in close, and closed his hands. He pointed at his leg. He then laid his hand flat, palm up, and wiped across it three times. ‘ Get it clean. ’
Dick narrowed his eyes at him before taking a breath and relenting, waving a hand dismissively. Suddenly, Dick flinched harshly, whipping his head around to face the oven. Wally glanced at it. Ah. It had finally finished preheating. He looked at Dick apologetically, forming a fist and rubbing a small circle on his chest. ‘ Sorry. ’ Dick shrugged in response.
He moved to peel the plastic off the dish and put it into the oven, but Dick stopped him. He pointed towards the oven. Wally got the hint, holding up his index and middle finger and sticking his thumb out, then drew them down to touch each other. ‘ Thirty. ’ Dick nodded, making a shooing gesture with his hand. Wally rolled his eyes playfully, leaving the kitchen.
The door slid open to reveal the living room. He couldn’t see Donna, but he could remember seeing her run off to her room the second they got home. Garth and Roy sat on the couch, Roy wrapping the Atlantean’s injuries. Most were burns, not deep, many first or second-degree, but they spread across his skin in a disguising patchwork of yellow-tinged red and shiny pink. Some burns were framed with blisters, some popped and oozed, revealing raw and irritated flesh beneath, the dead skin hanging off in ornamental tatters. Garth was going to have a time in the water while he slept, Wally realized.
Roy, for his part, looked slightly better. Most of the damage seemed to be superficial cuts and bruises, benefits of being an archer, Wally supposed, except for the wound on his shoulder, which had been wrapped up on the field. Wally didn’t get a close look at it, too busy trying to get civilians and the injured dead, they were all dead, he watched them die away from the battle, but from what he had seen, it looked like someone had taken a ragged bite out of his shoulder. Wally could only imagine how sore his arms must be. What stood out most to him, though, was the other ginger’s face, contorted into a loose frown with his eyebrows scrunched in concern. An expression that didn’t at all fit on the cocky archer, who he was used to seeing with an arrogant smirk or some version of an irritated or angry look on his face.
He wasn’t particularly excited for Roy to direct that look at him when he noticed his leg, so against his better judgment, he ran to his room.
Wally’s face screwed up as he decelerated, and the pain in his leg started to flair up again. Bad idea. He took his hearing aids out, setting them on his desk in the corner next to a pair of compression gloves. He considered grabbing them but decided against it. Not tonight. He hobbled to his closet, rooting around for a moment before pulling out a simple long-sleeved shirt and a pair of maroon sweatpants. He moved to the attached bathroom and set his clothes on the counter by the sink.
He shed his Kid Flash suit, so covered in dirt and ash that it was near impossible to tell the original colors. He winced as the movement jostled a half-healed burn on his shoulder. Nothing that wouldn't heal in the hour after he eats. He dumped the ruined suit in the trash can next to the toilet. There was no reason to keep it if it was beyond repair.
He stepped into the shower, leaning slightly on the wall for balance. He turned the handle almost as far as it would go, hoping the heat would help relieve some of the soreness and tension from his shoulders and back. He had pretty much given up on being able to walk without a limp tomorrow. Running for nearly two days straight was hard on Barry, let alone him.
He stood underneath the cascading water for a moment, his eyes slipping shut as he relaxed for the first time in days despite the stabbing pain in his leg from the water. He blindly reached out for a shampoo and squeezed a generous amount into his cupped hand. He worked the soapy goop into his scalp, trying to get out as much dirt as possible. Something told him he would feel dirty for weeks, but that feeling wasn’t anything new. Not to him.
After washing out the shampoo, he dared to open his eyes. He looked down at the water that pooled slightly in the shower before disappearing down the drain. It was a revolting reddish brown.
He reached out for the soap and sponge, lathering up and washing himself properly. He winced at the sting as the soap touched his leg. The long dried blood peeled off him in chips, clinging stubbornly to his skin, pulling at it uncomfortably.
He shut off the water, standing there for a second as the water ran off of him. He stepped out of the shower, grabbed his towel, and dried himself, taking care to not be rough. He dried his hair, trying to put off the inevitable. Well, that and he hated the feeling of water on the collar of his shirts. He slipped into his clothes, not bothering to look at the steam-covered mirror to see his reflection. He didn’t need to see the bags underneath his eyes or the paleness brought by hunger that made his freckles stand out more than usual on his skin.
He padded out of his room barefoot, bracing himself for Roy. He hated when Roy had to patch them up. Dick would yell at him about being stupid, Donna hid her thoughts beneath a blank expression, and Garth would develop a weird pinch in his brow that made it hard for Wally to read. But Roy? He could see the guilt in his eyes, even when he had enough energy to hide it beneath anger and arrogance. And now, with all reserved energy being focused on not passing out where they stand? The sadness, the guilt, the pain, everything displayed for the world to see.
He peeked into the living room, where Garth had dragged out the kiddy pool they kept in a storage closet in the event they wanted sleepovers. A hose was tossed in and was slowly filling the pool with water. Roy sat on the couch. The other ginger stared at him for a moment before waving him over while pinching the bridge of his nose.
Wally sat on the couch, rolling up his pant leg to show Roy the lacerations on his left leg. Roy made a face, and Wally could only assume he groaned at the sight. He couldn’t blame the guy.
Roy moved him so his leg was in his lap. He pressed a cloth damp with hydrogen peroxide to the wound. Wally hissed in pain at the sting but forced himself to relax. The slight smell of the liquid stung his nostrils. That was one of the only things he liked about Roy being the designated medic after a mission. He didn’t waste time or sugarcoat. He was quick and clinical in a way that almost reminded him of Joan bandaging Jay after an unfortunate run-in with the Rouges.
Wally sat there for a moment before mumbling, “Dick’s nonverbal.” He hoped it was loud enough for Roy to hear and enunciated enough that it was comprehensible. It apparently was if Roy snapped his head up fast enough to make a speedster envious. He cursed, but Wally wasn’t sure if he actually spoke or just mouthed the word like he’d seen the archer do before.
Either way, a look of annoyance or irritation spread across his face. Wally doubted he was truly angry, at least at Dick. If anything, he was one of the most patient with him. Possibly because Roy understands what it's like to be physically unable to speak. He saw Roy sigh as he grabbed the bandages from the medkit that was balanced on the arm of the couch.
He tapped Roy’s head and started signing as he glanced up at him. He touched his knuckles together with his thumbs pointing towards him, twisted his right hand, and pointed at Roy’s bandaged shoulder. ‘ How’s the shoulder ’
Roy did a weird one-armed shrug, turning his head up so Wally could see his lips.”It’s been better. After I eat I’m gonna wash up and take some painkillers,” His shoulders shrugged slightly, in a laugh probably, before continuing, “I stole some of the hard shit from Ollie. It’ll knock me on my ass, I’ll be out till tomorrow afternoon.”
Wally chuckled, pointing two fingers at himself and moving them up and down twice. ‘ Like normal? ’ Roy glared at him with a mock pout on his face. He tied the bandage and muttered, “Jerk,” to himself. Kind of. He leaned back, melting into the couch, flapping his hands a few times. It was strange seeing Roy so uptight and tense. That was normally Dick’s job.
Wally moved his leg off Roy’s lap, pushing himself to the opposite arm of the couch, where he proceeded to lounge. He could’ve sworn he closed his eyes for a mere second but flinched when Roy knocked on his good leg twice. It wasn’t hard, but Wally flinched regardless. He saw a flash of something flicker across Roy’s face before it settled into a poorly constructed bored expression. “Food’s ready,” he told him. “Go get Donna. She’s in her room.” Wally was halfway there before he finished his command.
He skidded to a stop in front of Donna’s door, rapping on it a couple of times. He waited a few seconds before the door slid open. Donna stood there, the anger on her countenance overshadowed by an air of sadness and mourning. Her eyes were bloodshot and ringed in red, the skin beneath them puffy and irritated, cheeks tearstained. He belatedly realized she had changed into sleepwear, and her hair was damp.
She opened her mouth in a presumed shout that Wally would not hear before it died on her tongue. She stared at him for a second before rubbing her face with her hands. She tipped her head back and dug the palms of her hands into her eyes. “Sorry, sorry.” she said, tone completely lost on him. He tried to smile reassuringly at her, but it felt fake even to him.
She looked at him before surging forward to hug him, burying her face in his neck. He felt her shoulders shake in barely contained sobs.
Wally hugged back, returning her vice-like grip, and dropped his head into her shoulder. He tried his damnedest to blink back tears, but it was futile. He hated seeing Donna cry. It was wrong in ways he couldn’t describe.
After a minute, she hesitantly pulled back, keeping a hand on his shoulder. She wiped at her face as she hiccuped. She took a breath, asking, “What do you need?”
He put his fingers together and tapped his lips twice. ‘ Food .’ She blinked owlishly at him, but Wally didn’t give her a chance to respond, grabbing her and hauling her to the kitchen.
He snickered as he stopped, her arms tight around his neck and her expression surprised. He laughed more, slightly hysterical when she smacked the back of his head and turned away.
She must have said something when her back was turned because Dick started to giggle.
Roy was washing his hands in the sink. Looking around, he saw Garth holding the hose, coiling it to put away for storage come morning. The pair seemed to be talking from across the room, but he didn’t care to eavesdrop.
Wally walked over to the cabinets next to the sink, reaching up to open them. He carefully grabbed a couple of plates, making sure to mind his tremors. He sped to the table in the center of the kitchen and set the plates around the steaming dish placed in the center, then grabbed five knives and forks and placed them next to the plates.
Roy sat down, talking to Dick if the cocky smirk told him anything. Wally grabbed the pot holder that Dick hadn’t put away yet and pushed the lasagna closer to him. With a firm expression, he touched his fingers to his thumb and touched his lips. ‘ Eat. ’
Roy recoiled, lips curled. “We sure it’s edible?” He said jokingly, but it didn’t faze Wally. He just pushed it closer. Roy rolled his eyes as he grabbed the knife. He looked up at Wally, who had crossed his arms and tapped his foot expectantly. He rolled his eyes again as he cut out a generous slice and put it on his plate. He didn’t start eating yet, but it was a start.
The others sat down in their usual spots, Donna between Dick and Roy, Garth on Dick’s other side, and Wally between Roy and Garth to keep Roy from causing trouble. They each took a large slice and pushed the dish back into the middle for them all to take more if they wanted. Which they all did.
Despite how hungry he was, borderline starving if the stabbing pain in his stomach was anything to go by, Wally picked at his food. He had finally stopped moving, stopped doing anything, and now had nothing else to focus on save for the ringing in his ears and the failed mission that Wally was sure would plague his nightmares.
The smell of smoke had been beyond suffocating, making his lungs feel like lead with every labored breath. Even now, he couldn’t taste anything above the copper despite how good the food was. He blinked sluggishly as he ate, hoping no one was trying to address him.
Certain downsides came with being a speedster. The constant need to eat was one of them, and the strain on his family’s wallet as a result. At least, that was before Bruce conspired with S.T.A.R. Labs to make nutrition-packed bars for speedsters around two years ago. It was a cheap alternative that meant Iris and Barry wouldn’t have to spend all their money on food for the two speedsters in the house. But years of being yelled at for eating even a normal amount for a child his age made it hard for him to not feel bad when he ate a lot, even if the people could afford it.
That limitation on its own made the mission miserable. He had eaten the bars he had on him on the first day and the emergency one Robin always had early that same night. Maybe that’s why he hadn’t been fast enough. Maybe, if he had eaten, he wouldn’t have gotten caught in the crossfire and gotten his leg injured. If he hadn’t gotten hurt maybe he could have saved that little girl.
There was another widely known but seldom understood downside to being a speedster. Everything was so slow. In all honesty, it was an exaggeration. Time didn’t always move at a snail’s pace, the same way Wally didn’t always move as a blur. But sometimes, either on instinct or when in distress, he can slip into relative time, forced to watch as everything slows down around him.
It wasn’t the first time he had seen someone die, mostly civilians succumbing to injuries that happened before the Titans had a chance to get there, but this? It was an oversight. An avoidable mistake that could have been prevented had they had been paying attention.
During the fight, the robot they’d been fighting- one of Ivo’s creations, Wally was sure- decided to aim for a building. Wally had gotten most of the people out and out of harm’s way before the building collapsed. But there had been a girl he hadn’t been able to carry on the last trip.
He wasn’t fast enough to get her out. He found her half buried under the rubble. He knew she was beyond saving. The sheer amount of red told him that much. He dug her out, and she clung to him, begging him not to leave. He carried her to cover, staying with her and trying to comfort her. She said her name was Judy. He committed the name to memory.
At some point, Donna touched down, looking ready to chew him out for dipping out of the fight still raging on around them, but her face crumpled the moment she saw the little girl. She dropped to her knees in front of him, touching Judy’s head. Judy, despite being in so much pain, smiled up at Donna.
She said Donna was always her favorite. Despite the tears streaming down the Amazon’s face, she smiled and thanked her. She called Judy “little sister” and said she was strong. She died in their arms not a minute later. The entire ordeal felt like hours for the speedster.
Abandoning the still-warm corpse of the child was painful, but it was nothing compared to giving the body to her family, a mother whose dark hair was starting to go gray, and an older brother, no older than ten. Somehow, he could hear the wails of despair as the pair cradled the broken body.
The thought made it difficult to eat, but he kept nibbling on his plate, even grabbing thirds. He needed to eat to regain the calories he’d burned in the past two days, not to mention start healing.
Once they finished, Roy grabbed all their plates, tossing them in the sink. Wally followed swiftly behind him with the empty lasagna dish. They didn’t bother cleaning it. They could do it tomorrow.
They all left the kitchen, Donna staying in the living room while all the others walked to their rooms. Well, not Wally. He went into Donna’s room, grabbed her favorite brush off the vanity, and quickly walked back into the living room.
Donna sat on the floor, pulling her legs up to her chest. Wally followed suit, sitting cross-legged behind her.
“Tap me if I pull,” he murmured as he grabbed some of her hair, still slightly damp from the shower she took earlier. She nodded, and he got to work brushing her hair.
It was a habit he, Donna, and Garth had fallen into the past couple of months. He enjoyed playing with their hair, and they found it soothing. He couldn’t say he didn’t enjoy their little routine, especially on days like this.
Donna’s hair was long and thick, slightly wavy. It was also very shiny and silky if she took care of it properly, though he understood that she didn’t always have the time. Still, it was nice to play with. Though he had to admit, he didn’t understand why she had her hair down most of the time during missions, as he assumed it would get in the way. One of these days, he’d remember to ask.
It didn’t take long for him to brush through her hair, the worst of the tangles probably taken care of during Donna's earlier shower.
He tensed slightly as Garth plopped down next to him, startled. He quickly relaxed as Garth rested his head on his shoulder. He tapped Donna’s shoulder lightly, signaling he was done. She got up and left down the hall to the rooms. He was confused but didn’t say anything as Garth took Donna’s spot in front of him.
Garth’s hair was very different from Donna’s. It was shorter and not nearly as thick. But it was sleek if a bit course due to the saltwater he lives in. He had changed clothes, from his uniform to the obnoxiously bright colored clothes Dick had talked him into getting. Considering his Kid Flash suit was neon yellow and bright red, Wally wasn’t one to talk.
He made sure to be gentle with Garth’s hair, not wanting to pull or break it. At some point, Donna came back with Roy trailing behind her, new bandages on his shoulder and in a tank top of some band Wally had never heard of. They held blankets and pillows, probably stolen off each of their beds.
He tapped Garth, and the pair got up to help set up the blanket fort. Well, it was more of a nest, but semantics aside. Suspiciously, there was no sign of their fearless leader, but he was sure there was a reason for that. He knew Dick didn’t like to be disturbed or dragged into their shenanigans after a bad mission.
The cuddle puddle bed, as Wally dubbed it after he noticed that this was becoming a pattern, was built as the foot of the couch, close to Garth’s kiddy pool. Wally flopped down on it once they were done, seeing Dick peek out of his door and padding down the hall.
Garth slipped into the kiddy pool carefully to not spill the water. Roy grabbed Dick and pushed him into the pillow pile with what Wally would assume was an indignant squawk. He grabbed a blanket, one of the weighted ones, and threw it over himself, curling up against one of the pillows. He felt Roy writhing around, trying to get comfortable, and one of the Wonder twins pulling at the blankets. It didn’t really matter how they fell asleep because Wally knew what would happen come morning.
He’d be at the bottom of a dog pile while his friends used him as a heater, Donna and Dick would somehow end up cuddling, Roy would be sprawled out and stay there until the late morning, and Garth would climb out of his pool sometime during the night and snuggle up to Wally. He would always wake him up, but he didn’t want the Atlantean to feel bad, so he’d pretend. Even if he woke up slightly soggy.
He wouldn’t have it any other way. They could deal with the fallout of their failed mission tomorrow.
Now, they just slept.