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Something’s wrong.
Dick jerks awake with a start, high on alert. His eyes scan around his room, looking for the disturbance that makes the hairs on his neck rise.
Nothing seems amiss except…
Except there's no one in his bed.
He reaches out anyway, the sheets cold underneath his fingertips.
Dick frowns.
He could've sworn he’d gone to bed with Wally.
No— not sworn. He knows he did. Wally had been right there, warm and solid against him, kissing him slow and sweet because Dick had come home from patrol with a migraine and still wanted to feel him close. His body still carries the proof of it— the lingering aches, the marks Wally left behind.
So where the hell is he?
Maybe Wally went out to grab breakfast. But if that were the case, he should've been back by now. Wally has a bad habit of using his speed for even the most mundane tasks, and breakfast runs are no exception.
Dick throws the blankets aside and gets to his feet, still rubbing sleep from his eyes as he picks up his boxers from the floor and heads to the bedroom door. The first thing he notices is the silence. No clatter from the kitchen. No smell of coffee. No half-heard humming from the living room.
The second thing he notices is that Wally’s things are gone.
Not really gone but… absent. Like there has never been another person living here except for himself. The chair in the corner is missing the hoodie Wally had tossed over it before bed. There’s no clothes belonging to Wally messily piled up on the floor, no discarded Flash uniform, no signs at all that two people live here.
He steps into the living room and stops dead.
The living room doesn't feel lived in. It feels more like a safehouse than an apartment. The only things decorating it are the photos lining the shelves. Plenty of them. Him and the Titans. Him and his family. Him and Wally too— but not like they should be. Not like they were last night.
One frame in particular catches his eye.
Wally is grinning in a tuxedo, a woman tucked against his side in white. And there, standing beside them with one hand on Wally’s shoulder and a champagne glass in the other, is Dick.
Best man.
Dick stares at the photo, pulse roaring in his ears.
It’s not just any woman.
Linda.
Wally’s ex.
His attention drops to the date printed in the corner, right above the picture frame.
He freezes.
It’s familiar.
Too familiar.
Dick picks it up and checks it again, certain he’s read it wrong.
He hasn't.
It’s the same date he married Wally.
The photograph trembles slightly in his hands.
Same day.
Same year.
Different wedding.
Dick stares at the image, unease curling in his stomach.
“Fuck,” he breathes, placing the frame back on the shelf before it can slip through his shaking fingers.
No.
No, no, no.
It can’t be.
Can it?
Something happened.
Something has to have happened.
Wait.
He got hit last night on patrol.
By some kind of ray gun that looked like it belonged to Buzz Lightyear— and Nightwing had a hard time keeping it together at the time— but nothing really did happen immediately except for the migraine pounding behind his eyes. He’d just assumed the thing was defective.
So is this some kind of nightmare?
Or had he somehow woken up in a world that had never been his to begin with?
No. No, it can’t be. Because he knows exactly what he experienced— the love in Wally’s eyes whenever his gaze settled on Dick, the smiles and touches and tears they’d shared, the life they’d built together. That had all been real.
Then here's a knock on the door, familiar and rhythmic, interrupting his thoughts.
Dick whirls around and holds his breath, staring wide-eyed at it like it's a bomb.
“Dick?” The voice calls out, knocking once again. “Dick. I know you’re in there. You haven't been picking up any of my calls.”
He swallows, staggering towards the door. Dick grips the doorknob tightly, knuckles turning white.
When the knock comes again, insistent this time, Dick pulls the door open, revealing Wally West on the other side.
“Whoa!” Wally yelps, covering his eyes with a hand. “Dude! You could've told me you were naked.” He peeks through his fingers, eyeing his throat. “Well someone’s been busy. Is that why you haven't been picking up?”
Dick narrows his eyes. “I have my boxers on. And you’ve seen me naked before.”
“Yeah, but not after you just had sex!” Wally whisper-shouted. “Did you hook up with a vampire or something?”
“I didn't—” Dick clears his throat, opening the door wider to let Wally pass through. The man enters warily, like something might jump at him. “What are you doing here?”
“Like I said,” Wally mutters, walking into the kitchen with a bag in hand, which Dick only notices now. “You haven't been answering my calls. I was getting worried.” He lifts the bag up. “Brought breakfast, by the way. Also— you’re up early today.”
Dick closes the door behind him. “You were the one banging on my door at eight in the morning, dumbass.”
Wally shrugs, unpacking the containers from the bag. “That’s what you get for not answering, asshole.”
It’s weird pretending nothing has changed— pretending Wally is only his best friend instead of his husband. But until he figures out what’s going on, he can’t afford to slip.
Sometimes, even the most familiar faces can’t be trusted, Bruce’s voice echoes in his head.
Or maybe that’s just the paranoia talking.
He lingers in the doorway, watching the familiar sight of Wally preparing breakfast for them. There’s an urge to reach out for him— hug him from behind, pepper his neck in little kisses or tease him until Wally brings him back to bed— but he stops himself before he can do any of it because that’s not his husband.
“So,” Wally starts, glancing at him as he opens the lids. “Are you going to explain yourself or do I have to force an answer out of you?”
“I’ve just been busy,” Dick lies. He doesn't know what calls Wally is talking about. “You know how it is.”
“Right,” Wally drawls, unconvinced, as he shoves plates into Dick’s hands. “If you were anyone else, I’d let it slide. But you’re not. I know when something's bugging you, dude. Donna’s getting worried too.”
Dick hesitates. “How long has it been, exactly?”
Wally frowns. “...Since you started pulling away?”
Dick nods once.
“A few months now.”
Dick blinks.
A few months.
He can't really act surprised. He’s done the same before— buried himself in work, ignored calls, insisted he was fine until someone inevitably dragged it out of him.
The difference is that his Wally never let him get away with it for that long.
“You’ve been doing that a lot lately,” Wally adds, walking out of the kitchen with their food in his hands. Dick trails after him. “Nobody’s seen you around. I was this close—” He spins around and pinches his thumb and forefinger together, barely any gap between them. “—to calling Bruce to ask if he’d heard from you.”
“Sorry,” Dick murmurs, even though it isn’t really his apology to make. He sets the table, and drops into his chair.
Wally glances at his bare chest, and his gaze drifts down to his legs. “I know you’re the sexiest man alive and all, but can you at least put on some pants, dude?”
Right. Different Wally.
Dick pushes himself to his feet, and walks into his room. He grabs the first clothes lying on the floor. He doesn't bother finding anything clean.
It also gives him a moment to collect himself.
Wally is still Wally. He smiles the same. Teases the same. Cares the same.
He just doesn't look at Dick like he’s in love with him.
So what is this? An alternate universe?
It sounds ridiculous, but Dick has experienced enough to know that impossible things have a habit of becoming a reality.
And he’s married to a speedster.
With a slow exhale, Dick exits the room, fully clothed now. Wally is already plating breakfast onto their plates— his amount more than Dick’s.
Then something catches his eye— Wally’s ring. A different ring, for a different marriage. He rubs his thumb over his own wedding band without thinking.
“You okay?” Wally asks softly.
Dick blinks, tearing his gaze from Wally’s hand. “Yeah.” He forces a smile, hoping it’ll look convincing enough as he sits across Wally again. “Why wouldn't I be?”
“You look…” Wally gestures vaguely at him. “Lost.”
Dick tilts his head. “Lost?”
“Like…” Wally glances away from Dick, like he’s finding the right words, before his gaze settles on Dick again. “Like you don't recognise any of this.”
The absurd theory settles a little heavier in his mind.
Dick says nothing.
Because it’s true.
“I’m fine,” Dick says automatically, because there's nothing else he can say.
Wally studies him for a long moment. “...You sure?”
“Yeah.”
“Because you’ve been saying that for months.”
“I’m fine, Walls,” Dick insists, biting into his food with more force than intended. “I don't know what else to tell you.”
“You don't have to tell me what’s going on,” Wally says quietly, his food still untouched. “I just need to know if you’re okay.”
Dick stares down at his half-eaten breakfast.
How is he supposed to answer when the truth isn’t his to tell?
“I’m just…” He hesitates, still not looking up, trying to find the right words without giving too much away. He settles on, “Not feeling like myself lately.”
Wally’s expression softens. He nods once. “Okay,” he says simply. “Thanks for telling me.”
Finally, he digs into his food.
Wally rambles on about everything and nothing as they eat breakfast together, filling the silence with stories Dick barely hears. Dick stays silent, offering an occasional hum or nod when necessary.
Every word, every memory, every passing comment points to the same conclusion.
This world is real.
This life is real.
And none of it belongs to him.
The thought he’d been trying to dismiss all morning hits him harder now.
He really is in another universe.
Is he relieved to realise that his husband is still back home, still married to him? Yes, of course. But if Dick woke up here, in his counterpart’s apartment…
Where is he?
Wally doesn't stay much longer.
He lingers at the door, reminding Dick to answer his phone for once, tells him to call if he needs anything, then finally leaves.
The apartment falls silent again.
Dick stares at the front door for a moment before pushing himself to his feet. He enters the bedroom, and grabs the phone off the nightstand.
Unsurprisingly, his counterpart’s phone was switched off.
The moment it’s turned on, the screen is flooded with notifications. Messages and missed calls from familiar names— people he knows, even if these aren't quite his.
Wally.
Donna.
Tim.
Babs.
Bruce.
Dick sits on the edge of the bed and scrolls through them in silence, frowning at the timestamp. Most of them are recent, but others have been sitting there for months.
His counterpart hadn’t just been avoiding Wally.
He’d been avoiding everyone.
Why?
He sets the thought aside. Right now, he needs to find a way to get home— and there's a few people that he knows that can help.
Dick unlocks the phone and his thumb hovers over the screen for only a second before tapping on the call button next to Bruce’s name.
It rings for what seems like forever, until the automated voice declares that Bruce's phone is unavailable.
He tries the next contact. Vic.
Same message.
Michael.
Straight to voicemail.
Dick tosses the phone onto the mattress with a quiet sigh, running his fingers through his hair. He lies on the bed, glaring at the ceiling as he ponders.
He needs to get back home.
Bruce isn’t answering.
He needs to get back to his husband.
Vic isn’t answering.
He needs—
Wait.
Wally.
Dick snatches the phone back up and scrolls through the contacts until he finds Wally’s.
It’s probably a bad idea.
He’d spent the last hour pretending to be a version of himself he wasn't. He let Wally believe he was talking to the Dick he’d known for years. He answered questions that hadn't been meant for him.
But every second he waited was another second his own Wally had no idea where he’d gone.
And if anyone would believe the impossible, it would be a speedster.
Dick dials his number.
Wally picks up on the first ring.
“Wow,” he laughs, though there's a hint of concern underlying his tone. “I wasn't expecting to hear from you again this soon.”
Dick doesn't hesitate. “Can you come back?”
There's a beat of silence.
“I’ll be there in a second.”
The line goes dead.
Dick barely has time to lower the phone before he hears a knock.
True to his words, Wally is there when he opens the front door. He gives Dick a quick once-over, his gaze lingering for a fraction too long before he exhales slowly. The tension in Wally’s shoulders doesn't ease one bit.
Dick pulls him in and shuts the door behind him before dragging Wally into the living room. “You might want to sit.”
Wally obeys immediately, his brows furrowing in concern. “What’s wrong?”
His husband would've pulled him close, kissing his neck until, in his own words, “Make whatever thoughts you’re having disappear.”
Dick forces the thought away.
“I’m going to sound crazy,” he blurts out before he can even stop himself. “But I need you to listen to me for a minute. Please.”
“We deal with crazy everyday, dude,” Wally snorts, and Dick makes a quiet noise of agreement. “Nothing gets by me anymore.”
Dick exhales slowly through his nose. “Last night,” he starts, his thumb rubbing the cool metal of his ring unconsciously at his side, “I went to bed with my husband.”
Wally’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “You’re married?”
“Yes.” Dick looks firmly at Wally. “To you.”
Wally blinks way too fast for Dick to believe he isn't rattled.
“...What?”
“I’m not your Dick,” Dick confesses quietly. “I’m from an alternate universe.”
Saying it aloud somehow makes it real.
Wally studies him for a long moment before he leans back against the couch, arms folding loosely across his chest. His gaze flickers to Dick’s hand— where he’s been fidgeting with his ring— then back to Dick.
“Okay,” he says at last. “Explain.”
“Some asshole got me with some kind of weapon last night on patrol,” Dick mutters, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Judging by my presence here in your world, I’m guessing it’s interdimensional.”
“Wait.” Wally sits up so abruptly he nearly startles Dick. His eyes go wide as he stares at him— specifically his neck— looking somewhere between horrified and bewildered. “Is that why you looked like you’d been attacked by a vampire this morning?”
Dick grimaces.
“...That was me?”
Dick massages his temple with his fingers. “Is that really what you’re focusing on right now?”
“Okay— okay.” Wally raises his hands in surrender. “Priorities.” His expression sobers almost immediately. “But… if you’re here… where’s my Dick?”
“I don't know,” Dick admits, absently rubbing his arm. “The only thing I know for sure is that I got hit. If the weapon somehow switched us, then your Dick is probably in my universe. If it didn't…” He trails off, jaw tightening. “I don't know where he is.”
A beat of silence.
“I’ve tried calling Bruce,” he adds. “Vic. Michael. Nobody answered.”
Wally presses his lips into a thin line. “They're off-world on a League mission right now. They left last night. I don’t know when they’ll be back.”
Dick groans, flopping onto the couch next to Wally. He drags a hand down his face before glaring at the floor. “Great. The few people who could get me home are in space right now.”
“I’m sure there are others who can help,” Wally reassures.
Dick snorts humourlessly. “Yeah? Like who?”
Wally falls quiet. He absentmindedly rubs his forefinger against his lower lip— a habit so achingly familiar that Dick has to look away.
Suddenly, Wally snaps his fingers.
“I know someone who can help.”
Tim blinks slowly at them like a cat. Or maybe like a very judgmental frog.
“You—” Tim points at Wally, “—are not supposed to be in Gotham.”
“And you—” His expression softens just a fraction as he looks at Dick. “—haven’t been answering any of my texts.”
“Bruce isn't exactly here to kick me out,” Wally mutters, mostly to himself, with a slight pout. Then he clears his throat and gestures vaguely toward Dick. “Well… we have a little problem.”
Tim lifts an eyebrow in question. He studies Dick intently, gaze dropping to his throat for a brief second before settling back to his face.
“Did you get attacked by a vampire?” Tim deadpans.
Wally coughs into his fist next to him. Dick has the urge to shove him— Wally or Tim, he doesn't know. Probably both.
“No,” Dick groans, rolling his eyes. “That’s not the important part here, Tim.”
“Yeah, I know,” Tim drawls with a shrug as he digs his hand into the bowl of pretzels next to him, tossing it into his mouth. “I’m guessing this is an interdimensional problem, then?”
Wally blinks. “...How’d you figure that out so quickly?”
“A bird never tells his secret,” Tim says vaguely with a smirk. Then, he shifts his attention back to Dick. “Report.”
“Busted a weapons deal last night,” Dick reports almost immediately. “Shipment came from Lex Luthor. I got hit by one of the weapons, but aside from a migraine, nothing happened at first. Then I woke up here.”
Tim chews thoughtfully, tapping his fingers against the countertop. “Interdimensional travel isn't exactly my expertise,” he admits. “But I can figure it out. It’ll just take a little longer than if Bruce or Vic were here.”
“That’s fine,” Dick says. “As long as I’m back home.”
Tim nods once. “And my brother?”
“There's a possibility that he’s in my universe,” Dick says, uncertain. “I don't know where else he might be if he’s not there.”
“If you two switched,” Tim says carefully, “I won’t be able to switch you back— not without the weapon itself. I can only send you back.” He presses his lips into a thin line. “We’ll just have to hope Dick finds his own way home.”
“He will,” Wally says firmly. “It’s Dick we’re talking about.”
God, he sounds just like his Wally.
Dick swallows around the lump in his throat.
“We’ll need to do a full body scan to see if there's any lingering dimensional residue on you,” Tim says as he pushes himself to his feet, grabbing his bowl and phone off the countertop. “I can use that to trace it back to your world.”
The trip down to the BatCave is silent, save for the occasional crunch of Tim’s pretzels.
A minute later, Dick finds himself lying beneath the Cave’s medical scanners while Tim types furiously at the computer nearby.
Wally looks over Tim’s shoulder, his expression a mixed reaction. Dick feels uneasy by it. “You sure you’ve got this?”
Tim turns his head just enough to narrow his eyes at Wally. “Are you doubting me?”
Wally takes a step back and raises his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. You’re the boss here.”
“Damn right I am,” Tim mutters. Then, he glances back at the monitor and sighs. “I’m going to need some caffeine if I’m solving interdimensional physics today. You two stay here until the scan is complete.”
With that, Tim leaves the medbay, no doubt going upstairs to the kitchen for a can of Zesti.
“So…” Wally starts as he drops into the chair Tim was occupying. “Your husband. What is he like?”
Dick glances at him, one eyebrow lifting. “You really want to hear about the version of you that married me?”
“Why not?”
“You’re married to Linda,” Dick points out. “And your Dick is your best friend. Doesn’t that make this at least a little weird for you?”
Wally shrugs noncommittally as he leans back against the chair. “I’ve heard weirder.”
Dick snorts softly as the scanner beeps, signalling its completion. He remains lying on the table, shifting to make himself comfortable.
“He’s…” He starts, and hesitates for a second, trying to find the right words. “He’s a pain in the ass, for starters.”
Wally squints at him, gaze dropping briefly to his throat and back to his face again. “Like literally or…?”
Dick shoots him a flat look.
Wally snorts. “Sorry. Continue.”
Dick rolls his eyes, fond and amused. “He’s also the clingiest man I’ve ever known. Won’t let me eat alone, won’t let me work alone, and half the time he acts like a puppy with attachment issues if I try to go to the bathroom without him.”
Wally laughs softly, and the sound punches straight through Dick’s ribs. For a devastating second, he almost thought his husband was there with him.
But no. It’s a different Wally. It’s not his husband.
“But he’s the sweetest too,” Dick continues, throat tight, his gaze drifting away from Wally. “He always remembers the little things. Always knows what I’m craving for before I even tell him. And when everything feels too much…” He smiles faintly. “He’s always there to hold me.”
Wally hums softly. “He sounds like a good husband.”
“He is,” Dick says almost immediately. “I can’t… I can’t imagine my life without him.”
The words leave his mouth before he can stop himself.
For a moment, the room goes quiet.
“We’ll get you home,” Wally reassures softly.
“I know,” Dick whispers just as softly. His gaze settles back to Wally. “What about your Dick? What is he like?”
Wally blinks at him.
“What? It’s only fair you tell me about your best friend when I told you about my husband.” Then, he hesitates. “I’m… also worried about what he’s going through right now. It sounds bad.”
“You and me both.” Wally sighs softly, arms folded loosely across his chest. “My Dick’s… I dunno. He’s just Dick.”
Dick lifts an eyebrow. “Should I take offence to that?”
“No, I mean it,” Wally snorts softly. “He’s—” He pauses, searching for the words. “He’s the first person I call when I screw something up. He’s the one who knows when I’m lying about being fine. He’s annoying and nosy and way too good at getting under my skin but…” He smiles a little, something fond slipping into his expression. “He’s one of the best people I know.”
Dick stares at Wally, expression turning soft.
Wally doesn’t seem to notice. Or maybe he does, because his voice softens when he adds, “He’d even helped me pick out the rings because I was too scared and nervous to go alone. He’s been there for me when I went through a lot. I don’t know who I’d be without him.”
Something twists painfully in Dick’s chest.
It shouldn’t hurt, hearing that. It should be comforting, maybe, knowing that even here— where Wally had married someone else, where Dick had somehow become only a best friend— he was still loved.
Instead, it just leaves Dick feeling raw.
Because Wally says it so easily, like there’s no conflict at all. Like loving Dick deeply and loving Linda can exist side by side in this world without meaning the same thing they do in Dick’s.
Dick doesn’t know whether that makes this better or worse.
Wally is quiet for a moment, staring at the floor. “But there was a time when things were complicated between us. Me and Dick.”
Dick tilts his head slightly. “Complicated how?”
Wally glances at him and huffs out a small laugh, like he regrets saying it already. “Just… complicated. We talked about it, though. But I don’t know why he’s been pushing us away.”
Dick nods despite the questions he has. He hesitates. “Tell me about Linda.”
Wally blinks, visibly caught off guard by the question. “...You really want to know?”
Dick nods. “I never really got to know her. Not in my world.”
Wally smiles, affectionate and fond. “Yeah,” he says quietly. “Sure.”
By the time Tim returns with a can of Zesti in hand, they’ve traded stories about Linda and Dick’s husband alike.
The scans confirm exactly what everyone expected.
Dick isn’t from this universe.
Unfortunately, that was the easy part.
Tim rolls his shoulders back before cracking the can open. “Tracing your universe is going to take me a while.” He sips on his soda, eyes never leaving the BatComputer. “Feel free to explore the Manor.”
Wally glances at the time. “I have to get back home for patrol.” He looks over at Dick. “I’ll be back before you leave.”
Dick nods once. “See you later.”
With that, Wally is gone before Dick can blink.
The cave falls silent, broken only by the squeaky bats above them and the occasional tap of Tim’s keyboard.
Dick exhales slowly through his nose and heads back up to the Manor.
Now that he’s alone, the adrenaline begins to fade.
His thoughts, which he’d spent the entire morning shoving aside just to keep moving, come rushing back all at once, leaving a tightness in his chest that he can’t quite name. He’s grateful he doesn’t run into anyone as his body moves on autopilot.
Only then does Dick realise where he’s ended up.
His room.
Or, well.
His counterpart’s room.
He lingers outside for a long moment, hand still resting on the doorknob. For the briefest second, some stubborn part of him expects warm arms to wrap around his waist from behind, followed by absentminded kisses pressed against his neck because Wally never could wait until they were actually inside the room.
Nothing happens.
Dick pushes the door open anyway.
He stands in the middle of the room, just taking everything in.
If the apartment had felt lonely, the room at the Manor feels even more so.
There’s evidence that his counterpart still comes back— a handful of clothes spilling out of the dresser, old keepsakes lining the shelves that mirrors his own exactly, a charger plugged into the nightstand— but nothing suggests anyone actually lives here.
The bed is neatly made. The desk is almost spotless, save for a stack of unopened mail and a few scattered case files. There isn't a half-finished cup of coffee sitting forgotten on a nearby surface, nor a jacket carelessly tossed over the chair.
No second pair of shoes.
No extra blanket.
No sign that someone else spends their nights here.
Well, Dick himself doesn’t, obviously, but he still comes back almost every weekend with Wally. One weekend is spent with Dick’s family, the next with Wally’s.
Judging by the room, his counterpart hasn’t done the same in a long while.
Dick crosses to the bed and sits on the edge.
Back home, Wally would've been sprawled across it already, probably complaining about how their mattress at home was stiffer than the ones at the Manor.
Here, there's only silence.
His gaze drifts across the neatly made bed until it lands on Zitka, sitting in her usual place near the pillows.
Dick blinks.
Carefully, he picks the elephant plush up and turns her over in his hands, fingers brushing gently through the soft faux fur. She looks exactly the same as his own, right down to the slightly flattened ear Bruce had accidentally squashed years ago after sitting on her during movie night.
For a moment, he can pretend he’s home.
Pretend Wally is only in the shower.
Pretend he’ll come wandering back into the room in one of Dick’s shirts, hair still damp, lying on top of him and asking what’s for dinner.
The illusion falls apart as quickly as it came.
Dick lies down on Wally’s side of the bed anyway, his gaze catching on the single pillow that’s actually been slept on. He cradles Zitka close to his chest, both hands resting over the plushie as he stares up at the ceiling. Almost unconsciously, his thumb begins to turn the wedding band around his finger.
His hand reaches toward the empty side of the bed before he catches himself.
Slowly, he lets it fall back onto Zitka instead.
He wonders what Wally’s doing right now.
Maybe he’s already realised Dick went missing.
Maybe he’s searching every rooftop in Blüdhaven. Maybe he’s called Bruce, Clark, Diana— anyone who might know where Dick disappeared to. Wally isn't the type to sit still when the people he loves are in trouble. He’d tear the city apart before convincing himself Dick had simply vanished.
Unless…
Unless his counterpart really had ended up in Dick’s universe.
In that case, Wally wouldn't waste a second trying to get him home.
Just like this Wally is doing for Dick.
The thought settles in his mind.
Different universe or not, Wally is still Wally. Still impossibly loyal. Still the kind of person who’d throw himself headfirst into an impossible situation without a second thought if it meant helping someone he cared about.
Dick smiles faintly despite himself.
His husband would move heaven and earth if he had to.
And Dick knows, with absolute certainty, that somewhere out there, Wally is looking for him just as hard as Dick is trying to find his way back.
He rolls his ring around his finger once more and closes his eyes.
When Tim is finally done, the sun has already set.
He ushers Dick up to the Watchtower, promising to explain everything once they’re there. Wally, just as promised, is already waiting for them, helping Tim finish setting up the equipment.
“I used the zeta tube’s system as an anchor,” Tim explains when they ask, typing rapidly across the console. “It’s similar enough to the one in your universe that I can use it to lock onto your world’s coordinates.”
He glances up briefly.
“Luckily, the Watchtower is empty. So there’s no risk of anyone accidentally walking through the portal.”
Dick lets out an incredulous laugh. “I never doubted you for a second, Timmy.”
The tips of Tim’s ears go red as he scrunches his nose, pointedly refusing to meet Dick’s gaze. “Shut up,” he mutters. Then, almost like an afterthought, “Oh. And I found Dick.”
Both Dick and Wally immediately straighten up.
“Where?” Wally demands.
“In Dick’s world,” Tim replies simply.
Relief crashes into Dick so suddenly his knees almost give out.
When the zeta tube powers on with a low hum, Dick turns to Wally.
For a moment, neither of them says anything.
It feels strange, saying goodbye to someone who looks exactly like his husband but isn’t. Strange, too, that after only a day, Dick finds himself genuinely hoping everything works out for this universe— for Wally, for Linda, and most of all, for his own counterpart.
“Thank you,” Dick says quietly. “For believing me.”
Wally huffs a small laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “To be fair, telling me you’re married to me wasn't exactly where I thought that conversation was going.”
Dick snorts.
Wally’s smile softens. “Take care of him, okay?”
Dick doesn't have to ask who he means.
“I always do,” he promises with a small smile. “Promise me you’ll keep looking after him, too. Don't let him push you away for too long.”
“I will.” Wally steps forward without another word and pulls Dick into a quick, firm hug. “Tell your husband I’m glad you made it home.”
Dick laughs weakly, returning the embrace just as tightly with a nod.
When they pull apart, Dick turns to Tim.
“Thank you,” he says, and the words somehow don’t feel nearly enough. “Seriously.”
Tim waves him off without looking away from the console, though Dick catches the faint pink creeping back into the tips of his ears. “Just don't make a habit of hopping universes,” he mutters. “It’s annoying. I’m sure your own Wally can tell you that too.”
Dick huffs a small laugh. “I’ll try my best.”
“You’d better.”
The portal stabilises with a brighter pulse of blue-white light, its edges shimmering as unfamiliar energy ripples across the platform.
Tim glances at the readings one last time before giving him a single nod. “You’re good to go.”
Dick takes a slow breath.
This is it.
Home.
Without giving himself the chance to overthink it, he steps forward toward the portal. Warm light washes over him, wrapping around his body as the world begins to dissolve into streaks of blue and white.
The last thing he hears before everything disappears is Wally’s voice calling after him.
“Go home, Dick.”
Then the Watchtower vanishes, and the light spits him out.
Dick barely has time to catch his footing before warm, familiar arms wrap around him. He doesn't need to open his eyes. He’d know this embrace anywhere.
Dick melts against Wally immediately, burying his face in the crook of his neck as his hands clutch at the back of Wally’s shirt like he’s afraid he’ll disappear if he lets go. He breathes him in— laundry detergent, coffee, and a hint of sandalwood.
Home.
His Wally.
The one he’d fallen in love with.
The one he’d married.
For a long moment, neither of them says anything, even when someone clears their throat from behind them. They simply stand there, holding each other with a desperation that words could never quite capture, neither willing to loosen their grip like they’re trying to make up for every second they’d spent apart.
Dick feels Wally’s heartbeat against his own chest.
He’s here.
He’s real.
He’s home.
“I missed you,” Dick whispers, his voice catching as he presses even closer. His arms tighten around Wally’s waist until he thinks they might merge their bodies together. “God… I missed you so much.”
“I know,” Wally murmurs, his own voice rough. One hand slips into Dick’s hair, fingers threading gently through the dark strands as he presses a lingering kiss against his temple. “I’ve got you.”
Dick lets out a shaky breath he hadn't realised he’d been holding.
“Take us home?” He mutters against Wally’s neck.
Before he knows it, they’re standing in their apartment, in their bedroom. Wally carries him straight to bed, and pulls away just enough to look him over.
“You okay?” He asks quietly as he hovers over Dick. His hand comes up to cradle Dick’s face, thumb brushing against his cheek. “You’re not injured or anything, are you?”
“I’m fine,” Dick reassures, leaning into Wally’s touch with a soft sigh. “Just… overwhelmed. It’s been a long day.”
Wally studies him. “You sure?”
Dick nods, smiling softly. “I am. But I’m feeling much better now that you’re here.”
Wally huffs out a laugh and finally presses his lips against Dick’s. He melts into the kiss, pulling Wally impossibly closer as his eyes flutter shut.
The kiss is slow, unhurried.
They just exist together, foreheads brushing as they steal one kiss after another, each one grounding Dick a little more than the last.
When they finally part, Wally doesn't go far. They lie on their sides as Wally rests their foreheads together, one hand still cupping Dick’s cheek while the other rubs slow circles against his hip.
“I was worried about you,” Wally admits quietly. “I woke up to another version of you in our bed and I had no idea where you were.”
Dick scrunches his nose. Somehow, he feels responsible for putting Wally and his counterpart through all of that. “I’m sorry.”
“You’ve got nothing to apologise for, baby,” Wally reassures, pressing a kiss to his nose that makes him giggle. “Just tell me if you get hit by something weird again, okay?”
“Promise.”
“Good.” Wally leans in again, capturing Dick’s lips in one last lingering kiss before stealing another just because he can. When he pulls away, he brushes their noses together with a grin. “I love you.”
Dick smiles, his chest warm. “I love you too.”
Then he rolls over to lie on Wally’s side of the bed again.
Except this time, Wally is already there. He snorts softly before hauling Dick back into his arms, tucking him beneath his chin like he belongs there.
And he does.
Because this is home.
In Wally’s arms.