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ㅤㅤㅤKEEPING THE LIVING liability that was Wally West alive turned out to be the most difficult part of the entire trip. In the span of fifteen minutes, he'd almost been run down by a car three times (almost taking Dick with him on the second occasion) and by the time Dick had managed to drag him across the final street towards the obelisk, he was beginning to feel the strain. If this was what Barry felt like every time he stepped outside, it was no surprise that Allen could get so tightly wound: Wally was like a coiled spring stuck in position, never dissipating the energy keeping it there.
Really, he was a walking hazard.
But on a lighter note, the Washington Monument was cool. Up close, where Dick could really appreciate the craftsmanship of those who had built, it was even better. Cleaner than the last time he'd seen it. He really did have to admit, it was much less of an eyesore when it wasn't covered with interdimensional sentient insectoid guts.
Dick was staring up at it through the gaps between his fingers as he shielded his eyes with a hand. Even with designer shades the sun proved too bright and he could hardly get a good look at the whole structure. The brunette could practically feel Wally buzzing with excitement beside him, desperate to run himself to the peak of the building and take in the view. Dick couldn't exactly relate with that level of extreme glee.
He twisted around, head spinning with the imprinted glare from the sun, to tell his friend to quit it: It wouldn't do anyone any good - except maybe the tabloids - to have Richard Grayson seen with a metahuman. Especially a red-head speedster, oddly reminiscent of a certain quick-paced sidekick. Too many questions would be raised. Dangerous questions, if they lead to identities being revealed.
"Wally, could you keep still? For just one second?" Dick barked quietly, scoffing as the boy rolled his eyes and continued to shift his weight from leg to leg. "I'm serious, KF. Someone'll see you."
"Relax, dude! No one's going to take a second look at some fidgeting kid. Happens all the time."
"Not when the fidgeting kid's feet are tapping faster than they can blink," Dick snapped, slamming a heel down atop Wally's foot. The other boy let out a short, sweet growl of pain, yanking his appendage away with a huff of irritation. "Stop."
"Could've just asked," Wally mumbled and Dick sighed, watching as his fingers began to tap periodically against his thigh.
"I did."
"Ask louder, then."
"If you listened the first time I wouldn't have to -"
"Oh my god, Dick! Hey, Dick!"
"A-nd it begins," Dick sighed, running a hand through his hair. Wally's eyes snapped towards him, green eyes glittering and off-put.
"Who the hell is that?" Wally said dubiously, leaning into Dick's space as though he were trying to hide the younger boy. Dick craned his neck to peer past the red-head, squinting at the dark figures emerging from around the monument. One of them was... far too recognizable. "Do you know them?"
Dick huffed out a tired laugh, scratching at his neck as Ned Leeds broke into an awkward, stumbling jog towards them, abandoning his peer group. The ugly, mustard-yellow blazer's tails flapped dramatically in the wind like a cape: "I know him," Dick announced quietly, pushing his sunglasses onto the top of his head. He shot Wally a careful glance, spying the cautious look on the boy's face. "Don't do anything weird."
"I do what I want, pipsqueak," Wally grumbled, taking a tiny step backwards to allow Dick room to breathe. The speedster folded his arms across his chest, trying to appear intimidating, as Ned slowed to a huffing walk in front of them. "I still find it weird that you're, like, a celebrity. I mean, who wants to take a picture with you?"
"You'd be surprised," Dick quipped, not taking his eyes off the high schooler. He flashed a bright smile: Welcoming and warm, just like Bruce taught him. "Hi, Ned."
Ned beamed, cheeks rosy from exertion: "You remembered my name! Sweet."
He stood there unspeaking for several seconds, simply smiling at the Wayne Heir, before remembering himself. Dick saw the exact moment it happened, too. He'd seen similar looks flash across one of the Riddler's lackeys when they realized Batman had figured out their clues. As it was, Ned's entire gaze was drawn from Dick's pleasantly genial smile, towards the tall, lanky red-head beside him. Wally was stood almost protectively beside the Wayne Heir, like he was trying to be his bodyguard or something - the thought made the corners of his smile tilt that little bit more.
"Oh, uh - is this one of your friends? Is he super rich and awesome too?" Ned said, obviously trying to piece together the fact that Richard Grayson aka Ned's Best Friend was colluding around Washington with some scruffy teenager. He addressed Wally directly, lowering his voice: "Are you super rich and awesome?"
Wally's eyebrows darted to his hairline and he choked out a surprised laugh, shoulders relaxing slightly. "Super awesome? Totally. Super rich? I wish. This guy refuses to give money to that particular charity," he said, a little too casually. He threw an arm around Dick's shoulders.
"Ned, this is... uh, this is my friend Wally."
"Best friend," Wally insisted, holding out a hand formally for the high schooler to shake. "Wally West."
"Ned... Leeds. So, Dick -"
"How'd you know Dickie then, Ned? Other than from the TV, of course," Wally jibed, and Dick scoffed, peeling himself out of the speedster's grip.
"We met yesterday. What were you going to say, Ned?" Sometimes, as Dick had learned from the years working with Kid Flash, the best course of action to incapacitate a wild Wally West was to ignore him. He'd eventually tire of his antics if they didn't garner any sort of reaction.
"Oh. I just wondered if you were here to see the decathlon," Ned stumbled out his words, eyes flicking to Wally, stood awkwardly and frustrated beside Dick. "It was taking place just - just round there..."
"Actually I was here for the monument. But, er, is it still going on? I would've thought it would be finished by now."
A breeze washed over him, only slightly, but Dick felt himself grow impatient as Wally piped up once more: "It's done," the speedster answered coolly, inspecting his nails. He dared Dick to say something, gazing pointedly down at him.
"Yeah, it is," Ned agreed. He adjusted himself to the tension between the two (unknowing) supers, smiling faintly. Pride shone in his eyes. "We won, actually. Midtown Tech for the win, huh?"
"Oh really? That's awesome," Dick said, not quite hurriedly but with wish to abscond. He liked Ned, he really did, but he wanted to get out of there before the guy asked why Dick hadn't opened the three hundred snapchats he'd sent him in the last fourteen hours.
"I bet Keystone would've won if I was still on the team," Wally commented, inspecting his nails. He peered upwards through his mess of ginger hair, flashing a dazzling smile at the two uncertain faces targeted towards him. "You know, my Uncle's something of a scientist himself and, well, I've picked up one or two things from him. If you know what I mean."
"Herpes?" Ned questioned and Dick spluttered, divulging into a series of coughs as he watched Wally's eyes go wide and his skin simultaneously flush scarlet.
"Jesus," Dick laughed. "Warn me next time, Ned."
The student looked to him questioningly and Dick waved him off, grinning. Wally stamped his foot indignantly, looking as though he wanted to say something but couldn't quite decide what it was. He settled with an extra-loud sigh instead, ensuring Dick understood that the 'behavior' of this new kid wouldn't be tolerated for much longer. Not that Dick thought Wally had been tolerating Ned at all, this entire time. It was like a game of straws, or comparing dicks (pun not intended). At least, it was from Wally's perspective, surely. Who's is bigger? Definitely not the speedsters, if he kept acting like the petulant child he really was.
"So Wally," Ned began, still smiling like the champion he was. "Did you come all the way from Central city?"
"How'd you know I was from Central?"
"You... mentioned Keystone, right? As in the school, Keystone High? That's in Central city."
"That's... yeah. I did. Right, I forgot I said that," Wally said ashamedly, ducking down slightly and rubbing at his shoulder. Dick winked at Ned mischievously:
"He's had a long day. Arrived here this morning."
"Yeah. I heard Dick was in Washington and practically ran here to see him," Wally embellished.
"Jet lag's a bitch," Ned agreed, nodding empathetically, before he paused with his chin tucked to his chest. His eyes were narrowed quizzically. "Wait. You said 'ran'. Oh my god, do you know The Flash? He's from Central city too!"
"Uh -" Wally managed to shake his head, the singular word 'no' forming on his lips, before Ned dived in again:
"He's like, the coolest hero. Other than Captain America. And Superman. And Thor. But he's a solid four in my top ten," the high schooler declared, and Dick watched with amusement as Wally's chest puffed up proudly.
"Thoughts on Kid Flash?" Wally asked narcissistically, grinning like a shark.
"Only the best partner in the business -"
"You mean sidekick?" Dick corrected.
"Partner," both Ned and Wally insisted, borderline insulted. Wally sat back on his heels, looking from Dick's unimpressed face to Ned's ecstatic features, and spoke again: "You know what, Dick? I like him."
At least Ned looked pleased with the news. Dick, on the other hand, couldn't have cared less. Especially when the Midtown Tech student, in his ugly blazer glory, proceeded to say that Kid Flash carried the entirety of the Young Justice team. The nerve - Dick just wanted to see the Washington monument when he wasn't in immediate danger, he didn't come for his leadership skills to be attacked.
He'd zoned out of the super interesting conversation between the two new-found kindred spirits minutes ago, staring into the distance at the gaggle of like-blazered teens gathering at the entrance to the monument's guided tour. One of them - Dick faintly remembered the kid being called Flash - held aloft a shining trophy. A big one. Why Ned had decided to come over to speak to him instead of celebrating with his classmates was beyond Dick. He could see Liz, and that weird Michelle girl (who was off to one side), standing in line. His eyes grazed over the mix of faces absently.
Ned caught him staring, following his gaze: "Oh! We're supposed to be going up the monument. I should probably go, actually..."
"You wanted to go up there, right Dick?" Wally dragged him back into the conversation, nudging him gently in the ribs with an elbow. Dick blinked, swallowing as he looked back towards the two boys:
"What?"
"You wanted to go up the monument," Wally repeated slowly, placing a hand on Dick's shoulder worriedly. "Ned's going up there now. We could join?"
"Uh, yeah. Sure. That- that actually sounds good!"
"Leeds the way then, Ned," Wally joked horribly, sufficing a painful wink. Somehow, the teen found the word-play funny - he snorted, an ugly, hilarious sound, as he began to chatter about the decathlon in some over the top dramatization of the final round. Wally pressed close to Dick as they followed suit, speaking into his ear: "You okay, birdbrain?"
"I'm fine, asshole," Dick said lowly, smiling towards Mister Harrison and the other kids as they fell in line behind them. Michelle was sat nearby, reading something Dick didn't care for. He turned to Wally slowly, sliding his sunglasses back down to his nose. "So are you paying, or am I finally going to have to donate to your charity?"
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ㅤㅤㅤTURNS OUT THE Washington Monument wasn't so fun when you were stuck with a bunch of school kids. Granted, Dick himself was a school kid (and Wally was no better than a preschooler) but still, the silence was different when everyone was silent because of you. Even Ned had quieted, and despite not having known him for long Dick still took this as a red flag. For some reason, the guy looked nervous.
Despite the evident, slightly refractory, awkwardness, Wally didn't seem to be reading the room. The red-head was amiably jittering beside Dick without a care in the world as he waited for his turn to pass through the metal detectors. Sometimes, the Grayson boy wondered how on earth the young speedster could survive standing in line when he couldn't go two seconds on the field without doing a lap of the perimeter.
"So you're actually called Flash? I'm jealous," Wally was engaged in a stimulating conversation with one of Ned's decathlon buddies. It was like watching them play verbal tennis with a single braincell. The guy, some jock or something (Dick didn't really understand the layman's terms for high school's social hierarchy), was so visibly pleased to be speaking to one of Richard Grayson's friends that he looked like he was about to cry. Poor guy didn't realize that Wally West held absolutely no social standing outside of the monument at that moment in time.
"It's a cool name, yeah. Pretty cool. Sometimes, though, I'm pretty sure... you know the hero? Yeah, he copied me," Flash began, instantly losing the ounce of respect he'd earned in Wally's astounded eyes. Dick raised an eyebrow at the bold statement, meeting the other sidekick's eyes in bewilderment as the deranged teen continued to speak: "I mean really, my parents should've like.. copyrighted the name or something, I don't know."
"You want to bring in those super-sweet royalties?" Dick teased, managing to dissolve his laughter before it became too obvious.
"Maybe you should save the city a couple times. To earn the rights," Wally snapped, pushing Flash forward through the bag search before the boy could reply. There was a little more venom in the light shove than Dick would've liked to see, but there was nothing he could do for the poor guy: Throw even an ounce of shade towards The Flash and Wally West would block out the sun. The thought of a hero doing anything for money made Dick himself a little queasy - he knew fully well, half of the Justice League lived in shoddy apartments. They didn't save the world for themselves, they saved if for the ever-ungrateful populous.
The Wayne Heir was filing into the glossy elevator doors that looked suspiciously like the ones in the new Wayne Building (Lucius really knew what he was doing, tailoring to the masses) when he heard the sound of angry static emote from nearby. Wally, still huffing from Flash's comment about his mentor, leant against the back of the lift with his arms across his chest. He was watching Ned curiously from afar: The jovial teen was frantically whispering into his phone, away from the rest of the group, disregarding the spurring of security to move along.
" - I had to cover for you! We're in the Washington Monument -"
"Peter is that you?" Liz snatched the phone from Ned's hands like a serpent, hissing down the receiver: "You flake! You are so lucky that we won -"
"Uh-oh. Trouble in paradise?" Wally grinned, coming forward to rest his chin on Dick's shoulder so he could get a better view. "I've been there once or twice. Did Artemis ever mentio-" Dick held up a hand to silence him, lips threatening to slip into a frown. Wally raised an eyebrow, retreating out of the brunette's personal space. "Someone's touchy. What's up with that?"
"I'm trying to listen," Dick shushed, slapping away one of the speedster's annoying hands. Liz slipped the phone onto the conveyor, Peter's muffled cries of exasperation transported even further out of earshot. What he wouldn't give for one of the Bat's audio enhancers. Dick cursed under his breath, folding his arms across his chest. He met Wally's curious stare: "Intel."
"On a school kid?" Wally snickered. "Just how many of these geniuses do you know?"
"None of them! I just met them at Bruce's open event - well, actually it was before that - but," Dick stopped himself, thinking back to the muddy converse left in a pile of knotted laces in his hotel room. Should he tell Peter Parker's secrets? The guy wasn't here to defend himself (not that Dick thought he would need defending), and Wally wasn't exactly known for keeping his mouth shut. "Some of them are pretty cool."
Wally seemed to understand that his friend had settled for something less than the truth, scouring Dick with a narrowed gaze: "Superman is cool. High schoolers? Not so much."
Dick's lips pressed together in a fine line and he shrugged, turning away from the red-head. "You just haven't met these ones yet," he replied, some-what aware of how ominous these proceedings were getting. Sooner or later Wally would find out, but for now Dick wanted to keep the whole Spider-man thing under wraps. It's what Bruce would've done.
Ned pressed into the elevator beside them, flattening a couple of his classmates against the wall as he pushed forward into their conversation. Wally eyed him wearily.
"Who was that on the phone?" the speedster asked, ever the astute detective when he wanted to be.
"No one," Ned replied a little too quickly. "Just my friend Peter."
"How come he's not here? You said he was on the team too," Dick pressed, trying to squeeze any information he could from the highly pressurized teen. "I mean, he's in Washington..."
"Peter -"
"Peter," Liz butted in, cutting Ned off. Dick swung his attention towards her, where she was decidedly refusing to look at them. Her apparent turmoil was enough to mask her awkwardness around the billionaire's ward. "Was a no-show."
"Huh. He didn't seem like the type," Dick mentioned casually, tucking his hands into the pockets of his shorts. Liz watched him astutely as a faint pink colored her cheeks.
"Neither did I," she replied simply, folding her arms across her chest. Ned looked defeated:
"He's not the type guys! I swear, Peter is -"
Wally placed a finger to the teens lips to prevent him from speaking, green eyes glittering with confusion. "There is so much you need to fill me in on dude," he said to Dick, face determinedly set. The Wayne Heir determined that the older boy was feeling left out, unable to follow the conversation despite his superhuman processing. "Who's Peter? Another of your little school friends?"
"We're not actually friends," Dick said hurriedly. "He doesn't exactly like me. I stole his shoes."
"He said you tried to have an orgy with him too," Ned added quietly, making the conversation entirely more intimate as he spoke past Wally's finger. His words were the cherry on top of the big pile of shit that he'd now have to explain to Kid Flash: To say Wally's jaw dropped was an understatement, emerald eyes bugging out from their sockets. Dick threw his head back against the wall of the elevator, closing his eyes with a disapproving huff as he felt Wally's static build up with excitement.
"Dude," Wally hissed lowly, trying to keep his voice down. "You absolute dog!"
"It was a misunderstanding," Dick whispered, flustered. He tried to focus on the droning of the tour guide like the rest of the group, but Wally's intense aura was far too distracting. Forcing the conversation to shut down wasn't going to work, the Wayne Heir decided. He wasn't practiced enough for this - he'd have to ask Bruce for tips in social situations later. "Quit it, Wally! I'll explain later."
"Later? Why not now?"
Dick motioned to the student body they were swathed in: "Why'd you think?"
"Was I not supposed to mention that part?" Ned said non-discreetly. He shouldered his bag awkwardly, trying to give his hands something to do. Wally raised an eyebrow towards the teen. "I am so sorry -"
"Dick, get down!"
It happened faster than his brain could correlate.
All Dick saw was the beginnings of a faint indigo glow pulsating from within Ned's backpack before he was forced to the ground, shielded by Wally's body. An echoed rumbling shook the entire monument, closely followed by the deafening splitting of concrete as something up there - something most definitely imperative to the structure of the building - gave in.
Dick pressed backwards against the steel walls of the elevator, which now, locked in position, felt a lot more like a cage. He looked to Wally, face pale: "That's not supposed to happen right?"
The speedster shook his head and the sound of shattering glass sent a crackling ripple of fear down Dick's spine as shards rained down from above like hail, scattering on the roof of the lift. He peered upwards towards the glowing pattern of metal, wide-eyed.
"Okay everyone, I know that was scary but the safety systems are working. We are very safe in here," the monotonous tour guide said, though her eyes spoke differently. Wally winced as he rolled onto his back, letting one arm dangle over Dick's shaking knees. He had cuts all over him, a single, tiny shard of glass stuck between the redness of his cheek that had managed to maneuver between the grooves in the metal .
"I don't think she's telling the truth," the red-head murmured, shooting his friend a lop-sided smile. Dick grinned despite himself, cheeks stinging as he turned to the panicked teacher pitifully commanding the kids in his charge. Mister Harrison was quaking in his metaphorical boots, shaking hands out to steady himself in a self-soothing gesture as his birdlike eyes flitted back and forth between Ned and the seared ceiling.
The boy in question, round face overtaken by shock, had throw his bag to the ground, dark eyes wide and fearful. Dick shuffled away from the seemingly explosive object, not daring to lift himself to his feet as he watched it cautiously. Wally followed suit, kneeling down beside him, face lowered so they could speak in borderline-secrecy: "Did you know your friend had a bomb?"
"I had a bomb!" Ned squeaked to himself, chest heaving as he bordered on the brink of hyperventilating.
"Of course I didn't! You think I'd have gotten into this stupid cage if I knew I was with a bunch of teenage terrorists?" Dick snapped, raising his voice. Several pairs of fear-stricken eyes darted to him and he instinctively tucked his legs to his chest.
Wally wobbled on his feet as the lift swayed from side to side, squinting towards a particular panel in the roof. "This is why you need to let me choose your friends for you," he said lightly, attempting a relaxed smile for the spectators as he picked his way carefully towards it.
"If I did that, you'd be my only friend," the Wayne Heir muttered.
"Mister Grayson, I assure you; Midtown Tech does not condone terrorism of any sort -" Mister Harrison began, only to be swiftly cut off by a chorus of outcry from the yellow blazers around him.
"Ned is not a terrorist!" Liz snapped indignantly, over the top of the alarmed vocalizing of her classmates.
"And if he is," Ned added nervously onto the end of her words, "He's one by accident!"
"It doesn't matter," Wally said strictly, allowing himself to somewhat embrace his heroic side as he leaned upwards to twist the lock of the emergency-exit. Dick, still huddled on the floor beside Ned's discarded (and explosive) backpack, wished he was able to allow his other persona to take over. As it was, Richard Grayson couldn't be seen doing anything other than cowering during a dangerous situation. No matter how much he wanted to climb his way out of that hell-hole. "We need to get out of here before the whole shaft collapses."
As if to illustrate his point, the speedster was thrown from his toes and into the sidewall as the elevator snapped to the left. There was a tumultuous crash as the entire structure jolted, thrown into the side of the elevator shaft. Amongst the shrieks and scrambling for a foothold, Dick slid onto his feet, keeping a low center of gravity as he'd practiced with Bruce many times before him. "Everyone, stay calm," Dick tried, not bothering to try and hide the quaking in his voice.
"Small movements," Wally grunted, pushing the tour guide up through the opening in the ceiling. His words served little warning to the panicking students as they clambered towards him as a single unit. "Hey, teach!" he called, garnering Mister Harrison's attention. "Help me lift them out of here!"
Dick attempted to pull himself towards his friend using the sides of the elevator, finger nails sliding and scraping along the ornate walls to find a hold. The metal groaned as he approached the huddle of people, despairing the added weight of an extra body. Wally looked wanly towards him, jaw set, and shook his head. There was a streak of smudged, dried blood staining his temple and an ugly flourish of yellow-green along his right cheekbone. With a sigh, Dick forced himself to stay put, watching from the sidelines as another of the yellow-blazers was thrust out of sight. He could hear the encouraging cheers of the spectators from above.
"That thing won't go off again, will it Ned?" Dick said wearily, clinging to the side of the elevator with his elbows. The bag slid past him and hit against the lower wall with a dull thump.
"I- I don't know!"
"Do you even know what it is?" the Wayne Heir asked. He was a little discouraged by the blank shrug he received in answer, Ned's eyes as lost as Dick himself felt. He ran a jittering hand through his hair, combing stray locks behind his ears. When Bruce said to train with Wally, somehow Dick didn't think this was quite what the man had meant. "Man, I thought you were cool! I swear to God, if this is some shitty assassination attempt, I'm going to lose my mi -"
"Can it, birdbrain," Wally hissed between his gritted teeth, pushing someone's heel over the edge of the elevator. There was a distant rumbling. Helicopters? The police had sent out the cavalry, then. Too bad they'd be useless from out there. "Save it for later. You know, this would be so much easier if I could just..."
"No," Dick insisted, but his words were hesitant. Wally bit his lip, looking away uncertainly. Was he going to...? It wouldn't be a wonder if the speedster decided to risk it all. Dick wouldn't blame his teammate if he happened to make a 'miraculous' get away.
"Okay, who's next?" Mister Harrington ushered onwards, squinting up through the missing panel. Dick was pushed further into the wall as Flash Thompson scaled past him, trophy clutched in hand like a lifeline.
"Me, it's my turn," the teen announced selfishly, uneven strides wobbling the elevator. He leapt into his teacher's unready hands, clutching at Wally's ginger hair for balance. Ned watched, appalled:
"Flash, seriously, what are you doing?"
"You're nothing like the superhero," Wally snapped angrily, stumbling backwards as the boy kicked off of him to get a boost. Liz steadied him with a hand, gaze narrowed in on her teammate.
"Don't worry about the trophy," she said forlornly, watching as Flash caught himself on a sharp edge of the elevator. A torn cable held him firmly in place by the tails of his blazer. "Leave it -"
Obviously, much to the dismay of everyone involved, the teenager didn't listen. "They never did," Alfred would say, and Dick heard the Butler's voice resound in his head - some sort of deathly call, it felt - as Flash continued to wriggle and try to unstick himself, refusing to part with the decathlon's golden prize.
There was a moment of pause where the swaying of the elevator stopped, before Dick felt bile rise to the back of his throat. The horrifying groaning of the cables holding the lift in place began anew, sending a shockwave through the floor. Dick pressed back into the wall nervously, grabbing for Liz's arm as she tumbled from her feet. Her scream of terror was muffled in his vest as he pulled her towards himself, forcing her fear-stiff fingers to curl around the support bar.
"Move it, Flash! This isn't how I want to die!" Dick yelled, warm eyes wide as he watched Wally and Mister Harrington attempt to dislodge the boy. Anyone watching closely enough would be able to see the red-head moving just that little bit too quickly, movements blurred, but Dick couldn't find it within himself to care. The creaking of the elevator shaft was more than enough of a concern for his brain to deal with.
"Oh my god," Liz whispered hoarsley into his shoulder. She chanced a peak towards the panel, where Ned was trying miserably to make his way up the rickety walls. "It's going to drop. With us in it... oh my god we're going to di -"
"Don't finish that sentence, sweetheart. No one's dying on my watch," Dick insisted, fisting the material of her blazer tightly in his free hand. He could faintly hear Flash climbing sloppily up the elevator shaft, the boy's familiar voice echoing something about that god forsaken trophy, before the ricket structure shuddered, a gross grating of metal, and Ned, this time, was thrown from his feet. Dick gritted his teeth, extending his leg out to try and hook the boy like one of those fun-fair 'hook the duck' amusements. It was a lot more difficult - painful - when the duck was a grown teenager. He let out a groan of pain as Ned clasped onto his ankle, the extra weight slowly tearing the quads in Dick's leg: "Hang on, Ned. Wally!"
The red-headed speedster looked to him, mossy eyes glazed with something terrible. Dick simply nodded towards Mister Harrison, swallowing, and watched Wally's throat catch.
"I can't leave you guys," he began, taking a shaky step towards them. His trainers skidded on the glass-littered floor, sending a rain of the shards into a pile at the other end of the elevator. "Seriously, Dick, just let me -"
There was another dangerously loud screeching of steel-on-steel nearby: A tearing that Dick could only hope wasn't the cables holding them all from tumbling to their deaths.
"This isn't a debate!" the Wayne Heir cried, and he caught sight of those eyes one more time - fiery and vibrant, holding a promise - before both the red-head and the teacher were gone from view. A blast of wind filled the metal container he, Ned and Liz were now trapped in. The two high schoolers were clinging to him for dear life, eyes squeezed tightly shut, unnoticing of the sudden disappearance. "Shit," he whispered to himself, wetting his lips as he attempted to haul-ass up and toward the emergency exit.
The strain on his shoulders Dick could've lived through if it meant he'd actually live. Unfortunately, life had other plans. Or... death had other plans? Whichever way it was, he managed to crawl two feet up the sloping elevator walls with the two (almost) fully-grown people dragging behind (and beside) him before the elevator finally gave in for good.
He hardly heard the thunderous crash of cables snapping, nor the terrorized screams of the onlookers. He barely even heard Wally's final... excited yell of "Spider-man!". Really, Dick's entire sensory system went into an overload as gravity abandoned him for a moment and weightlessness took hold.
Then, he was slammed downwards into the floor of the elevator, and he was falling. Falling. Robin didn't fall. It was embarrassing, and Dick couldn't do a single thing about it. Liz was screaming in his ear, pulled from his grip by the air rushing up beneath them. Her hair snapped into his eyes, and Ned snapped at his Adidas socks, and Dick felt the sunglasses on the top of his head finally freed from his body. They swept upwards towards the now-missing ceiling of the elevator in a frenzy. As for the screaming, Dick didn't have time: He was winded, chest heaving from it's collision with the floor, and a little nauseous. He was silent as the others cried out around him, dark eyes watching them with concern.
His attempt to crawl towards the damsel(s) in distress was cancelled out by shards of glass in his palm, and then swiftly out of the question as the elevator came to a sharp, sudden halt. He rolled onto his side, cradling his arm to his stomach, staring at the two teens in front of him: "E-every- everyone okay?" he wheezed out.
Before Ned could shake his head no, a figure clad in tight red-and-blue spandex slammed into the elevator from above. Dick blinked in quiet resignation as they let out a huff of pain on impact, before that same lung-fluttering sensation returned and he was once again falling. It seemed like all he did, now a days.
A silvery, web-like fluid sprayed from Spider-man's wrist, and he hopped onto the ceiling, feet planted, using his own brute strength to slow their decent. Dick could see every sinew of the hero's muscles tense as he struggled to bring the elevator back to a stop, and he would've kept looking too, if it weren't for the awkward clearing of the supe's throat as he hung upside down from the roof, web securely in hand:
"Uh, hey, how you doin'?" Peter said in a terrible imitation of the New Jersey lilt. "Don' worry about it, I got you."
Ned clambered to his feet, eyes as wide as his smile as he pumped his fist ecstatically: "Yes! Yes!"
"Hey, hey, hey! Big guy! Quit movin' around," Spider-man said, Ned's infectious enthusiasm creeping into his voice.
"I'm sorry, Sir. So sorry!"
Dick huffed out a laugh through his nose, rolling onto his side. Liz scrambled to her feet, ignoring the hero only briefly to sit the billionaire's ward upright: "Am I glad to see you," she remarked, and Dick detected an ounce of dreamily in her words as they were directed towards the masked menace. He grinned, watching Peter (God, it was strange to think that the nerdy, gorgeous not-model boy was beneath all that stark-tech) scratch his head demurely.
"Uh, you're welcome -"
"What took you so long? Finally found time to stop fellating the Washington monument?" Dick questioned innocently, choking on his own laughter as those white lenses widened a fraction at noticing him.
"Grayson?" Spider-man questioned, alarm clear in his voice. "What the- what're you doing here?"
"You know him?" Liz observed sharply, looking between the hero and Dick.
"No- No I, well I mean, he's just-"
"He's in the news all the time, it's hard not to recognise him," Ned supplied helpfully, and, as suspected, Peter jumped onto the excuse.
"R-right - Bruce Wayne's ward. I'd know him anywhere!"
"Sure you would," Dick teased, biting back a wince as Liz turned his forearm over to look at the damage done by flying broken glass. The Spider-man's lenses narrowed and he adjusted his grip on his web. "Look, I'm just here for the near death experience."
"And now it's over the adrenalin's really starting to leave my system, so if you wouldn't mind actually saving us, I'd greatly appreciate it," Liz added, shooting the web-head a thankful smile. Peter fumbled on his words and - thankfully - not the life-saving polymer string in his hands, falling back to an easy, heroic nod.
"Of course, miss. Right away."
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Take a shot everytime I write the word elevator haha 'action scenes' are hard
look, it's not my best but it's 6k and i enjoyed writing it -- love Wally & Dick's dynamic, love Ned, love Liz, love the tiny bit of Peter that's mentioned -- kinda love Flash,, if i'm honest I love everyone
enjoy xx it's the last you'll get for a little while because I have exams in Jan :))))))
Also, Merry belated Xmas and have a good new year for all you lovely lot!