Speed Trap

Chapter 8

A/N: This chapter is really short, sorry. I've been really busy with finals coming up and moving into my first apartment soon, but I wanted to get a chapter out while I could.

"He's been calling himself Speed Trap." Bruce seemingly appeared out of nowhere causing Dick to jump.

He forgot Bruce had a habit of materializing.

"So I've read," Dick sighed as he rested his head on his hand.

He'd been going over every file on the Batcomputer he could find on the new speedster. There was very little actually on the villain. Most of the files just covered his crimes. There was a blurry picture here and there, but nothing clear enough to tell anything.

"I know what you're thinking. It's not him." Blunt, as usual.

"I don't think it's him," Dick lied. Maybe if he said it enough times it would be true.

"Why look at the case for so long then?" Bruce asked. He was trying to be fatherly and supportive, but he was in his bat fursuit which made him come off more commanding than anything.

"I'm gonna be in the field again soon, wanted to get caught up." Dick closed the tabs with Speed Traps files and stood up. He stretched his arms over his head and yawned.

"There are more cases than this one, Dick. You've been looking at this one for hours."

"I was just making sure I didn't miss anything. It's not a big deal, B," Dick waved him off. Bruce frowned slightly.

"You've been meeting with Canary." Bruce ment it as a question, but it came out a statement

"Yep, once a week. She says I'll be ready to go back to missions soon." Dick started making his way to the stairs.

"I don't agree." Bruce didn't move from where he was standing. His back was to Dick now.

"Awh come on Bruce. I've never been better," Dick forced a natural sounding laugh. Bruce turned his head to look at Dick.

"You were gone for a year looking for a dead man."

Dick bit the inside of his cheek and took a deep breath.

Don't be upset. Wally is dead. Bruce isn't wrong, Dick told himself. He couldn't get mad at people for telling the truth, even if it hurt.

"I'm back now, and I'm fine," Dick assured Bruce. "And you can't pretend you didn't do the same thing when Clark died."

"That was different. He didn't die. He got sent to the future. I knew he wasn't dead," Bruce said. Dick rolled his eyes and shook his head as he climbed the stairs.

"It's not that different. He just came back so you were able to justify your denial."

"I wasn't in de—" Bruce started to argue.

"Yes you were!" Dick cut him off. He quickly went up the stairs, desperate to avoid the conversation now.

Dick went to his room and grabbed his laptop. He sat down at his desk and pulled up the same files he had been looking at on the Batcomputer.

He knew what he was doing was irrational. This guy wasn't Wally. It couldn't be. He tried to rationalize it by telling himself he was just proving to himself that it wasn't Wally.

Dick stared at his computer screen. He debated sending the picture to Barbra. Maybe she could make it more clear.

This probably is the cleared up version, Dick thought with a sigh. Getting pictures of speedsters was hard enough, he was lucky to have this.

Most of the picture was just a grainy black shadow. It didn't help that it was back lit by an empty museum display case.

There were small blurs of what looked like skin, likely the eye holes of a mask.

Dick sighed and dragged the photo to an editing app on his laptop. Maybe he could do something to make it a little more clear.

Dick messed with the settings of the picture. He made it as bright as he could, and a more obvious silhouette formed. It was still very blurry, but at least now he had a general idea for body type.

"Whatcha lookin at?" Dick snapped his head to look at the voice.

Wally was laying on Dicks bed with his arms behind his head. He had an evil smirk on his face as he looked at Dick.

Dick shook his head and turned back to his laptop. That's what you were supposed to do when you hallucinated, right? Just ignore it?

"I wouldn't recommend going into photography. This picture is shit." Wally was now leaning over Dicks shoulder, looking at the computer screen.

"He's not real," Dick muttered. God, he needed to bring this up with Canary.

"Not real?" Wally gasped and gripped his chest, pretending to be shot. "Oh! Ah! Dick how could you! Killing me again."

"I didn't kill you— him. I didn't kill him." Dick tried to get his mind to stop, but it didn't seem to want to listen to him. Wally frowned and grabbed the collar of Dicks shirt, pulling him out of his chair and close to his face.

"Yes, you did," he spat. "You all did. That's what happens when you side with heroes."

"I didn't," Dick insisted. Wally laughed coldly and gripped Dicks shirt tighter.

"Lie to yourself all you want. But you can't do it forever."

Wally shoved Dick to the floor and disappeared. Dick sat there for a few minutes, trying to process what had happened.

His shirt was wrinkled where Wally had grabbed it, and he'd definitely felt Wally shove him. He had even felt Wally breath on his face. That was a lot for a hallucination.

But it couldn't have been real. Wally was dead. Dicks mind was just playing a cruel trick on him.

He pulled himself up off the floor and back into his chair. He froze when he saw his screen.

Somehow the picture had been edited to be clearer. Dick was stuck staring at Speed Trap's eyes. They were bright green.