two, "speak of the devil"
"Keep going, will you?" Richard said, tiredness evident in his voice. His Romanian accent was showing through, a little flavour on each enunciation.
Wally froze, his hands pulling on the bed blanket tightly. He gulped down the rest of his sobs, rubbing his eyes and pulling his head from the blanket.
And there he sat, rubbing his bright blue eyes, the casts on his arms making the movement rigid. His jet-black bangs curled substantially, not covering his eyes. A oversized blue tee-shirt hung loosely on him, his bottom half covered with a comforter. He yawned, grinning tiredly.
"Hi," Richard smiled brightly, his accent still showing. Wally bounded toward him, engulfing his boyfriend in a bear hug.
They sat like that for a good five minutes, both crying. At last, Richard pulled apart, ruffling the other's red hair and wiping away his tears. "I love you too, Wally." Richard smirked, pecking his cheek.
The speedster immediately blushed, a rosy glow covering his freckles. "Can we go downstairs? They're probably all waiting." Wally couldn't help but smile at the accent, the 'th' sound coming out more like a 'd' instead.
They both stood up, interlocking their hands and opening the door slightly. Three boys dashed into the room across the hall, all yelling, "Run!"
Richard laughed, pulling his boyfriend with him to the room. "Hey, guys." He ruffled Tim's hair with his free hand, putting on an American accent so that they would understand him better. He only used his real voice when it was just Wally and him.
"How are you?" Jason asked, his eyes pointing to the casts.
"Alright for now. Nothing I haven't been through before." He laughed, but Jay and Wally both saddened at the grim joke. "Where's Bruce and Alfred?"
-
He wiped his tears, taking a deep breath. Looking down at the street far below, he shuddered. But this is what he wanted? Wasn't it? To escape the pain? To finally be set free?
He wasn't going to be caged anymore. He wasn't going to have guilt of a thousand deaths on his shoulders, thousands of people he had failed to save.
Wally would be sad.
He inhaled sharply at the thought, almost slipping off the roof. He would be sad. He might never be himself again, the happy-go-lucky freckled boy he had fallen in love with.
But Wally was better off without him.
-
Tim lead him to the downstairs kitchen, Damian and Jason following hot in pursuit. When they arrived everyone was surprised at the sight of Bruce eating Alfred's cookies, he had never eaten even a single cookie ever since The Incident.
Damian audibly gasped, climbing up on the stool beside where his father was sitting. "Father! Must you always eat my cookies?" He shrieked, grabbing a cookie for each hand and pursing his lips smugly.
"Richard! You're up!" Bruce exclaimed, stepping towards the boy. He hesitated, unsure if he should hug him or not, he didn't really know what to do.
"You can if you want." Richard whispered, letting go of Wally's hand as Bruce hugged him tightly, as if afraid his little bird would fly away at any moment.
"Look, if you-" Bruce started, his eyes noticeably tearing up.
"It's fine. I'm okay." Richard whispered, "And, uh, I can't breathe." Bruce pulled away, holding the boy's shoulders.
"Why's Bruce crying?" Tim whispered to Wally.
"I don't know, Timmy. He's probably just happy to see Dickie awake." Wally smiled falsely, patting the boy's shoulder.
The two younger boys weren't told of what had really happened to Richard. From what they knew he had just gotten into an accident as Robin.
But, boy, was there more.
