Chapter Text
“Hurry up, slowpoke!” Wally West shouts behind him as he races down the dock. “I want to see the ships.”
Dick Grayson huffs as he runs after him. “Why are you so fast?!”
“It’s in my blood!” Wally calls back to him. He lets his legs pump faster; his feet thump against the worn wood of the dock. He can feel the sea breeze in his hair, whipping the ginger strands into his eyes. He breathes in, letting all his surroundings fall away. And crashes into a sailor who grunts, then laughs.
“Watch out, lad!” the potbellied man says, righting him. “Most of the men ’round here won’t be so appreciative if ye crash into ’em.”
“Sorry, sir,” Wally peeps as Dick skids to a stop behind him. “I didn’t mean any harm.”
“Don’t worry about it, lad. Ye two must be off to see the ships, aye?” The man waggles his bushy eyebrows at the boys and then lets out a booming laugh again. “Course ye are, youngins such as ye. See that big one over there?”
The man points to the largest ship in the docks, a beautiful ship made of teak, polished till the top gleams. The figurehead is a merman made of gleaming wood. Only a few barnacles litter the upper parts of the boat, some being scraped off by some sailors. Wally’s eyes widen with amazement at the sight.
“It is a beautiful ship, sir,” Dick says softly, likely in awe as well at the beauty of it, just as Wally is. Wally glances at his friend, the way his dark hair has a strand just in his eyes.
Wally swallows, turning back to the man before them. He has a potbelly, bushy grey hair and eyebrows, and is wearing a captain’s hat. His outfit is shabby but well-fitting. He has kind eyes, with laugh lines around them.
“Are you the Captain?” Dick asks the man.
“I proudly am! He, the ship that is, is called The Red Blood,” the man says, grinning from ear to ear.
Wally notices one thing off about that statement. “He? Aren’t ships normally girls?”
“Aye, that they are. But this one is different, see; after a bad storm, the former cap’in went crazy and took a chisel to the figurehead. It was in quite a disarray when I got the fine ship. I smoothed ’im out, but had to remove the breasts; therefore, it became a he.”
“That’s actually pretty cool,” Dick says. Wally has to agree with the kid; the ship and the story behind it are really cool.
“Aye, if either of ye want a tour, let me know. Just not today; we are very busy today,” the man says. “We leave on Friday; ye come back before then.”
“Of course,” Wally says excitedly.
“Thank you!” Dick says. The man walks off, waving goodbye to the boys. The moment he is out of sight, Dick rounds on Wally with wide eyes. “Why do you always run into the cool people?”
“Bad good luck?” Wally tries, and Dick huffs.
“That makes no sense,” he accuses.
“I know,” Wally says, laughing. Dick is the only one who can get him to laugh. Or even tries anymore.
The next day is one of the worst Wally has ever experienced. His eyes are red by the time he and Dick meet up on the dock. The other boy is worse. His eyes are bloodshot, his nose is red and stuffed up, and his lips are red. His cheeks are stained with tears.
“Dick,” Wally murmurs, hugging Dick tightly. “I’m so sorry.”
“They’re gone… gone,” Dick sobs into Wally’s shoulder.
“I’m so sorry,” Wally whispers, tears slipping down his own cheeks. He tightens his grip on his friend protectively.
Dick’s breathing hitches as he continues to sob, holding tightly to Wally. “They were fine when we left,” he sobs, as if needing reassurance. “They were fine.”
“They were,” Wally agrees. There had been nothing wrong with the Grayson parents when the two had left. But only an hour later, Dick’s neighbor had heard the crash, loud and wrong, and had rushed in. They had found Mr. and Mrs. Grayson dead on the floor, poisoned.
Dick had been allowed to stay with them for the night while the village mayor had someone write to his uncle who lived a few port towns away about the death.
Wally just holds his friend tightly, trying to comfort him as worry swirls in his own stomach. Worry for Dick, worry for his own home life.
The Graysons didn’t deserve this. Wally’s parents? They did. And yet, the universe was cruel and took from good people rather than from those who genuinely deserved it.
And yet, they were fine, and Dick, well, he was an orphan now.
The next day is worse. Wally sobs when Dick’s Uncle, a fisherman, comes to collect him.
He lost his best friend, he realizes as he stares at the small ship floating away from him. He sees Dick staring at him from on deck, already fading from view with tears streaming down his own face. Wally watches until the ship fades from view, and a while after. Until his father stomps up.
“Boy! What are you doing?” Rudy demands, and Wally stiffens at the tone. His father was angry, pretending to be a caring man asking what his son was doing. “Why are you still whining? You’ve been crying like that all day.”
Rudy steps closer to his son, kneeling to whisper in his son’s ear. “Quit being a little bitch before I give you a real reason to cry.”
Wally flinches away from his father, hands shaking as he hurries to wipe the wet tears from his cheeks. “I’m sorry, sir. It’s just-”
“Just what, boy? You should be lucky. You don’t have to work or steal for your food. You have clothes, clean water, a roof over your head,” Rudy growls at the boy.
“I am very grateful, but-”
“But what? You want more? Crying like a little bitch every time you don’t get your way? I raised you better than that,” Rudy snarls quietly. He roughly grabs Wally by the shoulder and starts dragging the younger boy toward their hut. Wally winces as his father’s fingers dig into his skin. He has a feeling he will not like what comes next.
By the time Thursday night comes, Wally is severely depressed. He has no friends anymore and no way to contact Dick to keep in touch. His father is as cruel as ever, if not actually physically abusing Wally, then verbally degrading him. His mother is no better, verbally abusing him at her worst, ignoring him if he gets lucky.
Wally pulls his sleeves higher up his arms, hiding the finger-shaped bruises the best he can. There is no hiding the black eye he has, though, not without the expensive make-up his mother owned and occasionally used on him for the worst of bruises. Wally could imagine his parents' words, the cruel terms, the shouting, the fighting. He could imagine his father’s hands, clenching into fists, as his voice rose. Wally flinches out of his memories, focusing on the dock beneath him, at the water in front of him. The ships, so beautiful in the harbor, look just like freedom. Wally longs to be on one, safe from his father’s anger and disappointment and his mother’s dismissal and scorn.
His gaze lands on The Red Blood, still in awe of him the most- what a ship, honestly. His mind drifts, imagining sailing on it. Free from this life, free from his parents. Earning his wealth on it, finding Dick again when they were older, showing his best friend how well he did; settling down when he was old and greying, and starting a family with some special person.
I could just ask to go with them, he muses, studying the quiet ship. Maybe they wouldn’t ask for my parents’ permission.
But he has a feeling they would. They would deny him outright or demand to speak to his parents first.
Unless-
No, he couldn’t.
But could he? What if he just… snuck aboard? A stowaway?
They might kill him, honestly. (Or worse, sell him into slavery). But he doubts he would last much longer here anyway. He has nothing to keep him here anymore. No loyalty or love for his family, and Dick is already gone.
He starts toward the ship quietly, ducking low to avoid being spotted by anyone still up this late. Wally walks up the gangway slowly, acutely aware of every creak. He glances around once on board. A sailor, a single guard, is slumped against the main mast, fast asleep. Wally smirks at the sight, suddenly so happy that this man is sleeping. Because now he can actually hide, actually find a place to wait until they are on open water before revealing himself.
Wally sneaks down below, deep into the ship, almost to the hull. He finds containers, likely full of goods to sell at the ports. He hides behind some of the larger boxes, curling up into a ball, hoping to sleep and not be seen until safe out at sea.
And far, far away from his parents.
Wally wakes to the voices, arguing quietly. His eyes snap open, heart hammering with fear. Will he be found? Will he be harmed if he is? His heart races with fear, real, true fear. Wally realizes how stupid he is being; what was he thinking? He is stowing away on a ship he knows little to nothing about. His heartbeat picks up as the voices grow closer to his hiding spot.
“I understand, Captain. But you have to see my side as well,” a man exclaims, voice rising in clear annoyance. Wally hears one of the men tap his fingers along the wood of the crates.
“You ‘understand’?” the captain asks, his voice deceptively soft in tone, but cruel in nature. “You UNDERSTAND?”
Wally flinches back at the sudden shout, his back hitting a crate in his startled state, knocking over the box. Wally freezes as the men go silent. He cowers, covering his face with a cry of: “Don’t kill me!” as the men round the box.
~12 years later~
Dick hums as he preps his nets for the next day. He can see his children playing in the sand by the docks, six-year-old Mar’i chasing her brother, four-year-old Jake, with a glob of sea weed.
“Mar’i, do not put that in his hair,” he calls out as she gets it dangerously close to his son’s soft curls. The boy shrieks in mock fear, giggling up a storm in reality. Dick rolls his eyes at his kids’ antics. He continues his work, while keeping a careful eye on the two.
He ties the knots carefully, his mind on dinner and if his kids would need baths by the time he finally gets them home. He considers what he will make for dinner as well. Probably something with fish. Maybe he would go get the rods for his kids, and let them try to catch their own dinner. Dick knows how excited they get when he lets them do that.
“Daddy! A man is running toward us!” Mar’i calls to him, as Jake and she bolt back to his side.
Dick tenses, snapping out of his thoughts. His eyes scan the quiet docks until they land on a man running toward them. The man has red hair and is wearing a long coat and a pirate captain’s hat nestled on his head. A hat Dick has a vague memory of from his childhood. And, as the man draws ever closer, a face that could have once fit so perfectly in Dick’s life.
“Wally?” Dick asks quietly, staring at the man running at them.
“Who is that?” Mar’i asks, tugging on his sleeve.
“Daddy. I don’t like him,” Jake declares, lifting his arms to be picked up.
Dick picks his son up, cradling him close. “Stay behind me, Mar’i. I think I know him.”
Mar’i slips behind her father, wrapping her arms around his leg in a tight grip. “Okay, Daddy.”
The man skids to a stop before Dick, and he can see the blood dripping from the man’s side. Dick’s eyes widen, and he gasps softly, eyes scanning the wound.
“Richard Grayson?” the man asks, and Dick would know that voice anywhere, no matter how deep it has gotten from puberty. Wally West stares back at Dick, his eyes scanning his face.
“You are injured,” Dick says softly, setting Jake down to be able to help Wally. Wally yelps and jerks away from Dick when his hand brushes the wound.
“Sorry,” Dick murmurs as he continues trying to help his old friend.
“Do you remember me?” Wally asks him softly.
“Of course I do,” Dick replies. His voice hitching as he scans the wound. “Hard to forget.”
Wally smiles at him, slumping slightly as his face contorts into a pained grimace. He groans, and Dick wraps an arm around his waist. “Shit, that hurts.”
“What happened? You need a doctor,” Dick informs him, and Wally shakes his head violently.
“No. No doctors.”
“Wally, you need help,” Dick replies sharply. He huffs out a breath as he glares down at his injured friend. “You look like shit.”
“Thanks for the encouragement,” Wally mutters. “Just… hide me.”
Dick flinches at the word ‘hide’. His grip tightens on his friend, eyes moving from Wally’s face to his wound and then back to his face, watching as his tongue moistens his lips. Dick will be lying if he says his heart doesn’t skip a beat at the sight. He shakes his head, raising his eyes to the sky as pink blooms across his cheeks.
Wally lets out a soft laugh in his arms.
“Fine,” Dick decides. “My house isn’t far.”
Wally wakes in the morning to the sound of giggling children. He peels one eye open to study the small figures attempting to hide behind the cracked-open door to spy on the strange man in their father’s bed.
The girl, the elder of the two, shushes her brother.
They both look so much like Dick it honestly startles Wally. They both have his hair color. Mar’i’s skin has an orange tint more than Jake’s, though. Mar’i has her mother’s brilliantly green eyes while Jake has his father’s blue eyes. And they both clearly have his tendency to spy.
Wally subtly glances down at his bare chest, bandaged perfectly by Dick’s careful hands. His lips curl into a smile as he studies the care the bandages took.
“He’s awake!” Jake shouts. Wally jumps and puts a hand over his heart to calm the racing.
“You startled me,” Wally complains to the kid whose sister is already glaring at the young boy.
“Daddy said not to wake him,” Mar’i scolds him.
“He was already awake!” Jake argues. He juts out his lower lip and crosses his arms. His puppy eyes remind Wally very much of a young Dick Grayson.
“Jake, Mar’i, go play,” Dick orders as if manifesting from the shadows behind his children. Both kids scamper off, giggling like tiny criminals. Wally watches them with a fondness in his blue-green eyes.
“You made some cute kids,” Wally compliments, glancing at his former best friend.
“They take after their mother,” Dick says, looking anywhere but at Wally.
“Maybe a bit, but I see you in them,” Wally muses.
“Calling me cute, West?”
“Maybe.”
Dick’s face flushes that delicious pink again, and Wally lets his lips curl into a real smirk. Dick still refuses to look at him, though. Wally does not like that. He stares desperately into Dick’s avoidant eyes. Why won’t he just look at him? Did Wally do something unforgivable? How? He hasn’t seen his friend since that fateful day… when he lost him.
“I went back to our village,” Dick confesses. “Your parents said you went missing. Assumed dead. Mr. Ruthe had this crazy idea that you had stowed away on a pirate ship. The same ship we saw that day.”
“When?” Wally asks.
“Seven years ago, before I had my little girl. I… I have heard whispers since then. Of the pirate Captain of the Red Blood,” Dick murmurs.
Wally flinches. “I never meant for you to find out like this. Truly.”
Dick stares down at his hands, and Wally can see the tremble in them. His eyes soften as he watches his friend. “I would never intentionally harm you, Dick.”
Dick finally locks eyes with him. “I know. I’m not worried about that.”
“Then what are you worried about?” Wally questions. He notices the way Dick bites his lip, the way he looks down at the ground after making eye contact. He wonders what it is that scares him so much.
“The pirate Captain Deathstroke, he controls these waters. If he thinks I helped you… I’m a dead man,” Dick confesses.
Wally scoffs. “Deathstroke is a wimp. He couldn’t finish the job tonight, and thus here I am. Plus, I’ll protect you. You know I will,” Wally assures his friend.
Dick looks up again, his eyes shining. “You don’t know what he can do, Wally.”
“I do,” Wally argues. “I’ve seen what he can do. First hand. And I know he won’t target you because of me. Now, if you were some random stranger, sure he might. But me and him have a pact, not going after each other’s family.”
“Right.” Dick laughs, rolling his eyes. He crosses his arms and studies Wally with a smirk. “You must be pretty crazy to think he will honor that, Wally.”
“I’m not crazy! It’s true!” Wally argues.
“Yeah, right. And my name is Dickson.”
“Oh, fuck you,” Wally grumbles. Dick laughs, then grabs another blanket from a chest near the foot of the bed.
“Here. You are shivering.”
Wally takes it with a grateful smile.
Dick decides not to take the boat out today, instead just casting a line on his personal dock. He keeps an eye on the dirt path leading from his house to town and also on his cottage itself. Despite their protests, he forces his kids to be outside in his view. While he doesn’t think Wally would ever hurt his kids, he doesn’t want the two hellions to bother Wally while he is recovering.
Which is why Mar’i is building a three-story sand castle that is as tall as her, and Jake is gathering sticks to attack her much smaller castles.
Dick smiles softly as he turns his attention back to his rod.
They spend the day like this, a happy family, and Dick almost forgets who is in his house. Almost.
Around 3 pm, Wally walks out and over to him. Dick notices before Wally can fully make it out the door. Dick studies his friend for a minute, watching how he moves. Wally still favors his injured side.
“You should be resting,” Dick says once Wally stops beside him.
“I know. But I have troubled you and your children enough,” Wally says, and Dick quickly shakes his head.
“No. You need to heal. What I said earlier, it was the fear talking,” Dick says. He places a hand on Wally’s shoulder. “Stay. Please.”
Dick’s heart races. He has fucked it all up, and now he will lose his best friend again. But then Wally places his hand over Dick’s and smiles.
“I would love to, birdie. But my crew needs me. I will see you again,” Wally assures him.
Dick swallows, staring into his friend’s eyes. His heart races as he lets his gaze drift lower to Wally’s lips. They look so soft. He can feel the blood rush to his face. But then he steels his courage and kisses him.
Wally gasps, a soft sound that sends attraction shooting through Dick, but he forces himself to pull away. He doesn’t get far before Wally lets out an annoyed huff and wraps an arm around Dick’s neck, yanking his lips back against his.
Dick gasps, letting his lips part and the kiss deepen.
Heaven. Valhalla. Elysium.
But over far too soon.
Wally is the one who pulls back, resting his forehead against Dick’s. Dick shivers.
“That was…”
“Yeah,” Wally agrees. “See, now I have to come back. So we can explore this.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”