Fic: PleasedonttellWally
Today was possibly one of the worst bad days Bart had ever had.
Bart stood outside the apartment door anxiously, unsure if this was really what he wanted to do. He ran away again, but only made it as far as Illinois before turning back and ending up right back in front of the door. On the one hand, Tim said Nightwing was an awesome big brother compared to Wally. On the other, he wasn’t supposed to know where Nightwing lived and he was best friends with Wally.
He looked down at his knee, remembering the pain and the fear. To a speedster, legs were everything.
“You gonna dart to and from my door all night? ‘Cause I gotta tell ya, people can be clueless, but not that clueless.” Nightwing quipped from the hall behind him. He was dressed as a cop, which was weird and kinda funny if you thought about it, but he was still totally Nightwing. He also looked kinda mad…
“Pleasedon’ttellWally!” Bart blurted out. Nightwing-the-cop raised an eyebrow before coming up to join Bart and unlocking his door.
“Let’s take this conversation inside before someone sees you, okay?” He asked, sounding tired but not mad, as opposed to Wally who usually sounded tired and put upon. Nightwing looked actually tired though, so it was okay. Maybe he should make coffee? Tim liked coffee. Kon said Bats ran on coffee.
“Areyoutired? Icango. Itscool. Dontbemad.” Bart babbled, darting around the room to try and expend his anxious energy.
Nightwing collapsed on the couch, took a deep breath, then stated rapid-fire, “I’mnotmad. Yes,I’mtired. Youcanstay. Butpleaseslowdownandstopcirclingme.I’mgettingmotionsick.”
Bart was so stunned he actually froze, then took his own deep breath and sat on the couch too.
“Sorry, I’m just nervous.”
“It’s cool,” Nightwing reassured him, “Do you want anything to eat? Help yourself to the kitchen. There’s pizza in the fridge.”
Accepting Nightwing’s offer, Bart grabbed the box in the fridge and returned to his seat probably too fast for Nightwing to see. He didn’t slow down again until he was in the middle of his second slice, but Nightwing didn’t seem annoyed about it like his friends got sometimes when he forgot and stayed fast for too long.
“Tim told you where I lived.” Nightwing stated, once he realize Bart was focusing on him again. It wasn’t really a question but Bart felt like he should answer anyway. Tim did that sometimes too.
“I gave him a ride once. He said you were really busy and he didn’t want you to have more to do. I think he thought you might cancel if you had to go get him.” Bart replied, not really filtering is words as he focused on saying them slow enough.
Nightwing gave a wry laugh. “I hate to say he was probably right, but there have been a few times where I couldn’t have given him a ride if I wanted too. But that’s not why you’re here, is it?” He asked gently.
Bart looked down at his pizza. “I…” Bart wanted to hit himself. What was he going to say? ‘How do you get Wally to trust you?’ ‘Getting shot sucks?’ ‘What do you do when you ace all the tests but fail all the written assignments?’ Or his most pressing question… “Why is it not okay to be happy?”
Nightwing looked both interested and mildly concerned so Bart returned his gaze to the pizza and thought it safe to push on.
“Cassie doesn’t want hugs anymore and Tim doesn’t smile and he and Kon have some kinda super serious secret I can’t know and everybody’s thiscloseto,like,explodingateachother.” Bart knew he was talking too fast. By now Wally or Tim or Cassie or Kon or Max or or anybody else would have yelled at him to slow down, but Nightwing didn’t. And it felt kinda good to tell stuff to someone, especially without them actually knowing what the heck he was saying. “AndtheveryfirstmissionIfrozeandgotshotandWallywillthinkitbecauseIdidn’ttryhardenoughbutnowhesaysI’mtryingtoohardandsoIdecidedtopretendhedoesn’tmatteranymorebutitdoes.EversinceMaxisgoneit’slikeI’maburdennomatterwhatIdo.JayandJoanarecoolandallbutWallykeepstellingthemhowbadIamatbeingaheroand-”
“He’s saying what?!” Nightwing interrupted sharply.
Bart looked up in surprise. Nightwing had been able to follow that? “Woah, I didn’t think you could understand that.”
“You forget I pretty much grew up with Wally. He was terrible about speed-talking when excited when he was younger. It drove us insane,” Nightwing explained dismissively, “Now what did Wally say to your foster parents?”
Being reminded Wally and Nightwing were friends, he backpedaled majorly. “It wasn’t really thatbiga dealI’m just-” Bart fought to keep his speech slow as he tried to figure out what to say at the same time. It was harder than one would think.
Nightwing held up a hand. “Bart, the things people say when they think no one is listening is usually closest to the truth. What has Wally been saying?”
“It’s just…” Bart struggled to find words. “He’ll say I’m a good kid and he likes me but then he’ll tell Jay he doesn’t trust me once I’m out of the room. And when I decided to become Kid Flash and actuallybematurehesaid,” Bart huffed, annoyed with himself. “He said I was trying too hard. He’s always annoyed the minute he sees me. It’s like the first days we met is the way he still thinks I am. But I’m not like that anymore. I can be serious. I do understand things. I can be slow enough for the rest of the world. I just hate it. I do it anyway ‘cause I don’t want to be alone with a bunch of statue people but it’s hard.”
Nightwing stared at his hands, looking like he was thinking really hard. Bart busied himself with some more pizza as he waited for him to do something. Finally, Nightwing seemed to come to a decision, looking up at Bart and smiling.
“You know, Wally was a complete idiot when he was your age. Brilliant, but an idiot. We all were. I remember I got a call on the Titan communicator once because he wasn’t sure how to work his Aunt’s dishwasher.” Nightwing laughed softly. “Of course, neither I nor Wonder Girl had any reason to know how to work a dishwasher either so it wasn’t until Speedy picked up and laughed himself silly that he explained it to all of us. I can’t even list the number of times I didn’t finish reports in the Batcave on time because Wally was IM-ing to try and relieve his boredom. Wally may not have been born fast like you, but he had plenty of trouble with super-speed-induced boredom and distraction too. Don’t let him tell you otherwise. He was lucky to have a mentor as patient as Barry. I know we were all jealous of how good he had it as kids.”
It was hard to focus on someone speaking for so long, but Bart had less trouble than usual. This was …this was gold.
“Wally had trouble with superspeed too?”
Nightwing snorted. “Let’s just say he had some trouble with stopping and unexpected solid objects. Not to mention if he tried to vibrate through solid mass he either got a nosebleed, blew said mass up with excess energy, or both.”
Bart laughed at an image of Wally blowing up a wall and getting frowned at by Grandpa Barry.
“So I’m not trying too hard?”
“As long as you still sleep, eat, and remember you have school and friends, you’re not trying too hard,” Nightwing assured, for some reason looking rather amused, “and as long as you have to remind yourself of those things and pull yourself out of work, you’re not trying too little either.”
“After I got shot, I forgot everything. I just knew I needed to get smarter. So I read the library. I probably should have gotten something to eat first because healing stuff like surgery takes a lot of energy. I was really hungry after the battle.” Bart mused. Maybe he was trying too hard.
“You were shot?” Nightwing asked, concerned.
“Yeah, it was Slade, but really it was Jericho, but really it was possessed Jericho.” Bart explained. He watched Nightwing’s jaw tighten and wondered if he was about to get kicked out.
“I may have to talk to Cyborg about that, later. Is the wound okay? Where did you have surgery?”
“How got me in the knee.” Bart said quietly, subconsciously covering the knee in question with his hands. “They had to replace the kneecap.”
“And you were running less than an hour later?” Nightwing demanded, sounding oddly aghast.
“Well, yeah. It was healed so-“
“You healed a replaced kneecap in an hour.”
“…Yeah?” Bart wasn’t sure where Nightwing was leading this anymore.
“Well, there’s something else you do better than Wally, Bart. You heal much faster. The last time Wally got an knee injury he was down for the greater part of a day.”
“Really?” Bart asked hungrily.
“Really.”
“So you don’t think he’d be mad if he knew I let myself get hurt?”
“The only reason I could think for him to be mad would be if he was worried about you.”
“So he won’t be mad!” This was awesome!
“…Bart, do you and Wally ever do anything together?” Nightwing looked worried, and kinda mad. Bart wasn’t sure what had set him off.
“…No?” he answered warily.
This seemed to only make Nightwing madder. “Oh fleet-feet we are going to have words.” Nightwing growled.
“What?! Why?” Bart cried, worried he was about to get in trouble he wasn’t even sure he caused.
“Me and Tim hang out whenever we can both make out schedules work, Wonder Woman spent time with Wonder Girl, Barry always made time for Wally, Hell, Batman did his very best to be there for me when I was first starting out. When you’re a teen hero, you need support. I know most of you guys don’t like to hear that, but I’ve seen the results of what happens when they don’t get that support. Red Arrow and …the Robin after me are very good examples of just that. You need a mentor to support you, to trust you. I know Max Mercury was that for you, but the fact Wally just made you move and stuck you with two people you didn’t even know really pissed me off. Wally knows all the same stuff I do! He made the same promise all those years ago after we found out how bad things had gotten with Speedy!” By this point, Nightwing was on his feet and looking like he was about to actually literally flip out.
Bart just followed his pacing form with wide eyes, his left leg a blur of nervous energy.
“Was Speedy okay?” Bart asked cautiously, after it seemed like Nightwing was just going to twitch and walk around angrily.
“He’s Red Arrow now,” Nightwing replied, seeming to settle down at the reminder that Speedy was no longer experiencing bad things. He was still thinking really hard again though. And still mad.
Then Nightwing got an idea. Bart could tell because he got that same ‘I’m-a-Bat-with-a-really-sneaky-idea-that’s-going-to-probably-piss-someone-off-in-a-way-that-they-can’t-actually-get-mad-at-me’ invisible bat-smirk that Tim got when he had his best ideas. Bart was more than a little scared.
“Do you have any interest in learning to fight with escrima sticks?” Nightwing practically purred. “Or gymnastics? I’ve seem you pull some moves that lead me to believe your limber enough.”
Bart couldn’t actually seem to figure out how to talk.
“Are you- You’re Do you- Are you trying to say you’ll help train me?” Bart asked, completely incredulous. “You couldn’t! I’d annoy you to death. I can’t focus long enough for you to finish telling me what to do!”
“You’re superspeed can be utilized to break down my movements and I have camera’s with enough fps to slow you down and see your moves clearly so I can tell you what part you need to aim your focus at the most,” Nightwing replied, undeterred, “though you could also use it as practice for moving more slowly and focusing on different part of your body.”
That …actually might work. He’d read about different forms of meditative states in a few of the books at the San Francisco library and it kinda sounded like Nightwing was trying to trick him into learning a form. With ninja sticks. Meditating by itself was boring, but meditating with ninja sticks?
“I think you’ll want to kill me in an hour tops,” Bart stated tiredly. That’s how long it had taken Tim to give up on getting him to communicate understandably in sign language.
“That’s why you’re also going to be bringing that handheld game system Tim upgraded for you,” Nightwing replied, giving him a ‘duh’ look that actually made him almost giggle because this was Nightwing. “I figure, thirty minutes practice, thirty minutes of games for a two hour block every …Wednesday?”
“Can we do Tuesdays and Thursdays?” Bart asked excitedly.
Nightwing cocked his head to the side. “Monday and Wednesday.”
“Awesome!!” Bart crowed, running up to Nightwing in a blur and almost bowling him over in a tight hug. After a split second, Nightwing hugged him back. “Tim doesn’t like to be hugged,” he observed.
“Not particularly, no.”
“I thought all Bat-people were like that.”
“Most of them are.”
Bart hugged Nightwing harder as that statement seemed to make him sad.
“Well, Nightwing, I think hugging is awesome.”
He felt Nightwing huff a laugh into his hair and tighten his grip before loosening it enough that Bart could break the hug the second he wanted to. “Call me Dick. All my friends do.”
Today was probably one of the best days Bart had ever had.
Hello, Khatman. You've done well. I'm assuming you figured out my tumblr account by now. Feel free to read my fanfics more, though I'm not sure they're too you taste. I've got more games in the works, I just though it easier to talk face to face (so to speak). Also!
I decend from deathmongers and luminaries, the youngest and only true son. I don't appear to be a trenchent jackanapes, but I'll certainly act like one. I'm the heir to my father's subterranean empire, even if he doesn't quite know it yet. My brother's think they're better for the role, but they'll change their minds I bet.
Bart stood outside the apartment door anxiously, unsure if this was really what he wanted to do. He ran away again, but only made it as far as Illinois before turning back and ending up right back in front of the door. On the one hand, Tim said Nightwing was an awesome big brother compared to Wally. On the other, he wasn’t supposed to know where Nightwing lived and he was best friends with Wally.
He looked down at his knee, remembering the pain and the fear. To a speedster, legs were everything.
“You gonna dart to and from my door all night? ‘Cause I gotta tell ya, people can be clueless, but not that clueless.” Nightwing quipped from the hall behind him. He was dressed as a cop, which was weird and kinda funny if you thought about it, but he was still totally Nightwing. He also looked kinda mad…
“Pleasedon’ttellWally!” Bart blurted out. Nightwing-the-cop raised an eyebrow before coming up to join Bart and unlocking his door.
“Let’s take this conversation inside before someone sees you, okay?” He asked, sounding tired but not mad, as opposed to Wally who usually sounded tired and put upon. Nightwing looked actually tired though, so it was okay. Maybe he should make coffee? Tim liked coffee. Kon said Bats ran on coffee.
“Areyoutired? Icango. Itscool. Dontbemad.” Bart babbled, darting around the room to try and expend his anxious energy.
Nightwing collapsed on the couch, took a deep breath, then stated rapid-fire, “I’mnotmad. Yes,I’mtired. Youcanstay. Butpleaseslowdownandstopcirclingme.I’mgettingmotionsick.”
Bart was so stunned he actually froze, then took his own deep breath and sat on the couch too.
“Sorry, I’m just nervous.”
“It’s cool,” Nightwing reassured him, “Do you want anything to eat? Help yourself to the kitchen. There’s pizza in the fridge.”
Accepting Nightwing’s offer, Bart grabbed the box in the fridge and returned to his seat probably too fast for Nightwing to see. He didn’t slow down again until he was in the middle of his second slice, but Nightwing didn’t seem annoyed about it like his friends got sometimes when he forgot and stayed fast for too long.
“Tim told you where I lived.” Nightwing stated, once he realize Bart was focusing on him again. It wasn’t really a question but Bart felt like he should answer anyway. Tim did that sometimes too.
“I gave him a ride once. He said you were really busy and he didn’t want you to have more to do. I think he thought you might cancel if you had to go get him.” Bart replied, not really filtering is words as he focused on saying them slow enough.
Nightwing gave a wry laugh. “I hate to say he was probably right, but there have been a few times where I couldn’t have given him a ride if I wanted too. But that’s not why you’re here, is it?” He asked gently.
Bart looked down at his pizza. “I…” Bart wanted to hit himself. What was he going to say? ‘How do you get Wally to trust you?’ ‘Getting shot sucks?’ ‘What do you do when you ace all the tests but fail all the written assignments?’ Or his most pressing question… “Why is it not okay to be happy?”
Nightwing looked both interested and mildly concerned so Bart returned his gaze to the pizza and thought it safe to push on.
“Cassie doesn’t want hugs anymore and Tim doesn’t smile and he and Kon have some kinda super serious secret I can’t know and everybody’s thiscloseto,like,explodingateachother.” Bart knew he was talking too fast. By now Wally or Tim or Cassie or Kon or Max or or anybody else would have yelled at him to slow down, but Nightwing didn’t. And it felt kinda good to tell stuff to someone, especially without them actually knowing what the heck he was saying. “AndtheveryfirstmissionIfrozeandgotshotandWallywillthinkitbecauseIdidn’ttryhardenoughbutnowhesaysI’mtryingtoohardandsoIdecidedtopretendhedoesn’tmatteranymorebutitdoes.EversinceMaxisgoneit’slikeI’maburdennomatterwhatIdo.JayandJoanarecoolandallbutWallykeepstellingthemhowbadIamatbeingaheroand-”
“He’s saying what?!” Nightwing interrupted sharply.
Bart looked up in surprise. Nightwing had been able to follow that? “Woah, I didn’t think you could understand that.”
“You forget I pretty much grew up with Wally. He was terrible about speed-talking when excited when he was younger. It drove us insane,” Nightwing explained dismissively, “Now what did Wally say to your foster parents?”
Being reminded Wally and Nightwing were friends, he backpedaled majorly. “It wasn’t really thatbiga dealI’m just-” Bart fought to keep his speech slow as he tried to figure out what to say at the same time. It was harder than one would think.
Nightwing held up a hand. “Bart, the things people say when they think no one is listening is usually closest to the truth. What has Wally been saying?”
“It’s just…” Bart struggled to find words. “He’ll say I’m a good kid and he likes me but then he’ll tell Jay he doesn’t trust me once I’m out of the room. And when I decided to become Kid Flash and actuallybematurehesaid,” Bart huffed, annoyed with himself. “He said I was trying too hard. He’s always annoyed the minute he sees me. It’s like the first days we met is the way he still thinks I am. But I’m not like that anymore. I can be serious. I do understand things. I can be slow enough for the rest of the world. I just hate it. I do it anyway ‘cause I don’t want to be alone with a bunch of statue people but it’s hard.”
Nightwing stared at his hands, looking like he was thinking really hard. Bart busied himself with some more pizza as he waited for him to do something. Finally, Nightwing seemed to come to a decision, looking up at Bart and smiling.
“You know, Wally was a complete idiot when he was your age. Brilliant, but an idiot. We all were. I remember I got a call on the Titan communicator once because he wasn’t sure how to work his Aunt’s dishwasher.” Nightwing laughed softly. “Of course, neither I nor Wonder Girl had any reason to know how to work a dishwasher either so it wasn’t until Speedy picked up and laughed himself silly that he explained it to all of us. I can’t even list the number of times I didn’t finish reports in the Batcave on time because Wally was IM-ing to try and relieve his boredom. Wally may not have been born fast like you, but he had plenty of trouble with super-speed-induced boredom and distraction too. Don’t let him tell you otherwise. He was lucky to have a mentor as patient as Barry. I know we were all jealous of how good he had it as kids.”
It was hard to focus on someone speaking for so long, but Bart had less trouble than usual. This was …this was gold.
“Wally had trouble with superspeed too?”
Nightwing snorted. “Let’s just say he had some trouble with stopping and unexpected solid objects. Not to mention if he tried to vibrate through solid mass he either got a nosebleed, blew said mass up with excess energy, or both.”
Bart laughed at an image of Wally blowing up a wall and getting frowned at by Grandpa Barry.
“So I’m not trying too hard?”
“As long as you still sleep, eat, and remember you have school and friends, you’re not trying too hard,” Nightwing assured, for some reason looking rather amused, “and as long as you have to remind yourself of those things and pull yourself out of work, you’re not trying too little either.”
“After I got shot, I forgot everything. I just knew I needed to get smarter. So I read the library. I probably should have gotten something to eat first because healing stuff like surgery takes a lot of energy. I was really hungry after the battle.” Bart mused. Maybe he was trying too hard.
“You were shot?” Nightwing asked, concerned.
“Yeah, it was Slade, but really it was Jericho, but really it was possessed Jericho.” Bart explained. He watched Nightwing’s jaw tighten and wondered if he was about to get kicked out.
“I may have to talk to Cyborg about that, later. Is the wound okay? Where did you have surgery?”
“How got me in the knee.” Bart said quietly, subconsciously covering the knee in question with his hands. “They had to replace the kneecap.”
“And you were running less than an hour later?” Nightwing demanded, sounding oddly aghast.
“Well, yeah. It was healed so-“
“You healed a replaced kneecap in an hour.”
“…Yeah?” Bart wasn’t sure where Nightwing was leading this anymore.
“Well, there’s something else you do better than Wally, Bart. You heal much faster. The last time Wally got an knee injury he was down for the greater part of a day.”
“Really?” Bart asked hungrily.
“Really.”
“So you don’t think he’d be mad if he knew I let myself get hurt?”
“The only reason I could think for him to be mad would be if he was worried about you.”
“So he won’t be mad!” This was awesome!
“…Bart, do you and Wally ever do anything together?” Nightwing looked worried, and kinda mad. Bart wasn’t sure what had set him off.
“…No?” he answered warily.
This seemed to only make Nightwing madder. “Oh fleet-feet we are going to have words.” Nightwing growled.
“What?! Why?” Bart cried, worried he was about to get in trouble he wasn’t even sure he caused.
“Me and Tim hang out whenever we can both make out schedules work, Wonder Woman spent time with Wonder Girl, Barry always made time for Wally, Hell, Batman did his very best to be there for me when I was first starting out. When you’re a teen hero, you need support. I know most of you guys don’t like to hear that, but I’ve seen the results of what happens when they don’t get that support. Red Arrow and …the Robin after me are very good examples of just that. You need a mentor to support you, to trust you. I know Max Mercury was that for you, but the fact Wally just made you move and stuck you with two people you didn’t even know really pissed me off. Wally knows all the same stuff I do! He made the same promise all those years ago after we found out how bad things had gotten with Speedy!” By this point, Nightwing was on his feet and looking like he was about to actually literally flip out.
Bart just followed his pacing form with wide eyes, his left leg a blur of nervous energy.
“Was Speedy okay?” Bart asked cautiously, after it seemed like Nightwing was just going to twitch and walk around angrily.
“He’s Red Arrow now,” Nightwing replied, seeming to settle down at the reminder that Speedy was no longer experiencing bad things. He was still thinking really hard again though. And still mad.
Then Nightwing got an idea. Bart could tell because he got that same ‘I’m-a-Bat-with-a-really-sneaky-idea-that’s-going-to-probably-piss-someone-off-in-a-way-that-they-can’t-actually-get-mad-at-me’ invisible bat-smirk that Tim got when he had his best ideas. Bart was more than a little scared.
“Do you have any interest in learning to fight with escrima sticks?” Nightwing practically purred. “Or gymnastics? I’ve seem you pull some moves that lead me to believe your limber enough.”
Bart couldn’t actually seem to figure out how to talk.
“Are you- You’re Do you- Are you trying to say you’ll help train me?” Bart asked, completely incredulous. “You couldn’t! I’d annoy you to death. I can’t focus long enough for you to finish telling me what to do!”
“You’re superspeed can be utilized to break down my movements and I have camera’s with enough fps to slow you down and see your moves clearly so I can tell you what part you need to aim your focus at the most,” Nightwing replied, undeterred, “though you could also use it as practice for moving more slowly and focusing on different part of your body.”
That …actually might work. He’d read about different forms of meditative states in a few of the books at the San Francisco library and it kinda sounded like Nightwing was trying to trick him into learning a form. With ninja sticks. Meditating by itself was boring, but meditating with ninja sticks?
“I think you’ll want to kill me in an hour tops,” Bart stated tiredly. That’s how long it had taken Tim to give up on getting him to communicate understandably in sign language.
“That’s why you’re also going to be bringing that handheld game system Tim upgraded for you,” Nightwing replied, giving him a ‘duh’ look that actually made him almost giggle because this was Nightwing. “I figure, thirty minutes practice, thirty minutes of games for a two hour block every …Wednesday?”
“Can we do Tuesdays and Thursdays?” Bart asked excitedly.
Nightwing cocked his head to the side. “Monday and Wednesday.”
“Awesome!!” Bart crowed, running up to Nightwing in a blur and almost bowling him over in a tight hug. After a split second, Nightwing hugged him back. “Tim doesn’t like to be hugged,” he observed.
“Not particularly, no.”
“I thought all Bat-people were like that.”
“Most of them are.”
Bart hugged Nightwing harder as that statement seemed to make him sad.
“Well, Nightwing, I think hugging is awesome.”
He felt Nightwing huff a laugh into his hair and tighten his grip before loosening it enough that Bart could break the hug the second he wanted to. “Call me Dick. All my friends do.”
Today was probably one of the best days Bart had ever had.
Hello, Khatman. You've done well. I'm assuming you figured out my tumblr account by now. Feel free to read my fanfics more, though I'm not sure they're too you taste. I've got more games in the works, I just though it easier to talk face to face (so to speak). Also!
I decend from deathmongers and luminaries, the youngest and only true son. I don't appear to be a trenchent jackanapes, but I'll certainly act like one. I'm the heir to my father's subterranean empire, even if he doesn't quite know it yet. My brother's think they're better for the role, but they'll change their minds I bet.