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Description
Title: Naturally Strange and Strangely Natural.
Sumarry: It had been happening more and more, these transient little moments that left him wondering. Bruce/Wally
Warnings: BoyxBoy, though only a kiss. Oocness? XD

- Odd.
It was about the only word he could give it. It was about the only thing that popped in his mind. Odd, because he couldn't really explain it. Odd, because he somehow liked that term better than 'strange' or 'unusual,' because lately, it hadn't been that 'unusual' anymore.
It had been happening more and more.
He had been feeling it more and more.
But even so, it hadn't been so… unnerving and frustrating as it was before.
The first time it happened, the first time he felt like that, he had to keep himself from smashing something against the wall with about all the self-control he had, which was a lot.
Because, after all, he was Batman. Bruce Wayne.
He was, as the culprit of these actions would put it ' "the fudging epitome of self-control, dude, since if the world would blow up, he'd still be all calm and he'd give those screaming and freaking out people a death glare and ask: "guys, please, can't you panic without making so much noise? I can't even think." '
Even though he wasn't so sure he'd actually say that. But Wally West seemed to be absolutely sure of it.
So he probably would, because of all the people he ever met, it was strangely enough the hyper-active, always-acting-like-he's-sugar-high, confident and utterly annoying Wally West who seemed to somehow, strangely, know what he would think or do.
At first he had asked himself if he had become so easy to read, but after some time he had understood it was just because the younger man read so easily, so innocently and so unconsciously, he could probably even see through him.
So, he had come to live with that.
So, it had been happening more and more.
So, he still was as clueless as before.
So, he decided to treat it as it hadn't happened, because Batman understood everyone and everything and if that was not the case, it probably didn't exist.
So. These moments, these feelings and these nagging thoughts didn't really exist.
- Interesting.
After the … confusion, even though it wasn't a word he liked to use for it, he had come to find it rather interesting. Interesting, to see how the culprit could cover up all his tracks so easily, how he could make everyone fall for that goofy, big, confident grin of his.
Interesting, to see how he had caught his attention, how he caught it again and again by a simple look, a simple smile, a simple statement that, if you thought about it, actually wasn't as dumb and innocent as it sounded.
Wally West was an interesting person, for sure.
Interestingly different.
It had been happening more and more, those moments and those words.
Those moments that made him secretly frown and even more clandestinely lean back just a bit to hear him talk a little more clearly.
It had been happening more and more, that he found himself strangely intrigued and interested in what the redhead had to say.
Because, somehow, he had found that underneath the stupidity and brainlessness, underneath the endless source of confidence, the unstoppable spring of goofiness, he actually thought a lot of things through and the reasoning behind it wasn't always so dumb.
Just innocently naive, just misunderstood so easily.
But even so, he'd laugh it off, off, off. He'd laugh and grin and smile and joke until you were convinced of what he wanted you to be convinced off:
He's such an idiot.
Maybe Bruce wasn't the only one who fooled people into believing he was something that he wasn't.
Or at least not entirely.
- Transient.
It had been happening more and more.
It was so sudden, came so unprepared, spontaneous, natural almost. It went so fast, in such an incredible speed, Bruce sometimes wondered if he had really felt it.
Maybe be was just lying to himself, and maybe he should get that part of him to die.
When had it come to live anyway?
He didn't need to be loved, to have someone smiling to him as if he was some kind of person that wasn't always grumpy and cranky and bossing him around. He didn't need Wally West to do those things he did.
But still, everything it happened, every time again, he found his heart missing a beat, found himself feeling and wondering and it was all really strange and un-Bruce-like.
The first it happened, he had even stopped talking and looked around, to see Wally talking to Shayera as if nothing happened. And he had shaken his head, scolded himself, brushed it off, scolded himself some more and he had continued his talk with Superman, ignored the quirked eyebrow and look that said 'what-just-happened?'
It didn't last more than a second. It was just there and then it wasn't anymore.
Wally would just walk past him, and secretly, quickly, softly touch his hand or arm and then he'd walk away as if nothing happened.
Maybe nothing did.
Maybe, just maybe, Bruce just wanted it to happen.
As if maybe, just maybe he was imagining this all because some crazy, twisted, human part of his being wanted this to happen and he just told himself that it was because Wally was the Fastest Man Alive, it was so transient, so passing, so fleeing it was gone before he realised it.
And that thought kept nagging in the back of his mind, and it made him feel a bit strange. A bit... confused and scared and uncertain and all those things,
He promised himself he would never ever be again.
- Care.
It had been happening more and more.
It had been happening more and more, those moments where his heart stopped beating for several seconds, then started racing so hard he thought he would throw up and find his hearts laying on the cold, dirty streets.
The thought had crossed his mind more and more, when Wally, reckless, carefree, dumb as ever got himself almost dead and just in time, saved by a second not dead. The thought that filled everything, screamed secretly:
Don't leave me alone. Please, please don't die.
And it wasn't like him to beg. To even think about begging, to have a thought in is mind so strong and nagging, unwanted and painful that he stopped functioning for mere seconds, turned around and all he cared about was that he somehow had to save that man, because there was no way he could live on without him.
Which wasn't like him either.
It had been happening more and more, where he abandoned whatever he was doing, to go and save that still smiling man's ass, before he would get crushed, beaten, hit, killed.
And every time again, he would scold him and scream and yell and be so, so, so angry, because he could only show anger, instead of telling him that he wasn't mad, but just, so, so, so worried. But he couldn't really tell him, because Wally would just laugh and he would just joke and tell him something that would make him feel so stupid, so foolish.
He couldn't tell him, because he wouldn't be taken seriously either way.
He couldn't really care in Wally's eyes, because he was Batman.
And Batman didn't care.
It was an elementary rule. A simple statement that held so much power everyone somehow knew it and he wished they could all just forget it.
Because sometimes Batman does care.
He just couldn't show it.
- Always.
"Are you crazy?! Next time you do something foolish like that, just realise that you could've died and then no one would be helped with that!"
A pout.
They stood on the roof of a high skyscraper, his dark eyes taking in the mess that was the ground and his green eyes just shining contently because he had no idea he had made anyone worry about him, that he had scared the crap out of the emotionless Batman, that for Christ sake, he shouldn't try to die so much.
"But Bats! I couldn't let Shay get hurt, right? If she would've been hit, who knows what might've happened? Besides, I didn't really have to worry about dieing."
Bruce narrowed his eyes.
"And why is that?"
Sometimes he really wanted to punch the boy for being so confident.
"Because you got my back."
The confident grin stayed and Bruce had to keep himself from forcefully making it disappear.
"Always."
The grin even widened.
"So, you don't have to worry about dieing because I got your back? Now, I don't know if you noticed, but sometimes I'm a little busy with saving my own life, rather then keeping an eye on you."
His tone hardened even more, became so bitter he was waiting for the 'and how many lemons did you eat today?'-joke, as he said: "you shouldn't put so much trust in me, because I won't always be in time to save you."
Wally shrugged, as if he had just said something really stupid, such an obvious lie it wasn't even funny.
"Yeah, you will be," Wally laughed.
"I won't."
"So you say, Bats, but I still know you will somehow always have my back."
Bruce narrowed his eyes even more, pressed his lips into a tight, tight line and desperately tried to ignore that voice in the back of his mind, that just kept telling him:
If he trusts you he might as well commit suicide now.
Because, there's no way he can actually always have his back.
"Ah, don't look at me like that!" the redhead pouts. "You know it's true!"
Wally grinned confident.
"Just like I know, that if I do this –" he took a step backward, tripped not so very accidentally over his own feet and fell backward.
Would've fell backward, off a fifty stories high building, crashing right into the ground and died, if Bruce hadn't immediately, like some kind of reflex, stepped forward, and grabbed the younger man's wrist, preventing him from falling right to his death.
"—You'll always do that," he finished with a smile.
And Bruce couldn't really say anything back, because his heart was still recovering and he found himself strangely speechless, enraged at how frustrating true that innocent statement was.
Wally leaned back forward, let go of the hand that would've shaken in fear if Bruce wasn't Bruce and he gave him that smile, that grin, that smirk that chanted teasingly: 'I know more then I let on and you'll never ever find out.'
"Why that is of course," he shrugged again, laughed, "I wouldn't know."
But he did.
And it made Bruce want to punch him real hard, but Wally was gone before he could even blink.
- Trust.
It had been happening more and more.
Those moments where Bruce cursed himself for being nothing more then just human. That he cursed himself for not being able to move at the speed of light, to be so strong he could easily lift up a car with one hand and swirl it around like a beach ball, to have wings and a mace with which he could blow someone's brains out no sweat, that he didn't own a fancy ring that made him able to make anything his mind wanted.
Because, and he just knew it, if he would've been able to do those things, to be like them then he wouldn't have to wonder why in the world Wally West, The Fastest Man Alive, trusted him, him a mere rich kid, with a distrust of everyone, filled with issues and complexes and not a single power.
All he had were some fancy gadgets and the power to manipulate everyone, to scare the crap out of some punks.
He was sure that if he hadn't been just Bruce, the nagging voice in his head would shut up.
But now, because he was just and only Bruce Wayne, the voice just kept repeating it:
He puts all his trust in you and you will let him down.
Bruce suppressed a shiver and hoped he never had to witness the day where he wasn't in time.
He hoped he never had to witness the day where Wally West got hurt because Batman wasn't good enough.
- Focus.
It had been happening more and more.
He was used to watching people, understanding them, knowing them, being able to anticipate their every movement and to know every thought.
He was used to observe people, a habit he couldn't suppress.
What he wasn't used to however, was that as soon as he turned around, forcefully tore his eyes from the one person that had gotten all his attention and focus lately, he could feel the same eyes he had been looking at, looking at him.
He wasn't used of having people looking after him.
And he surely wasn't used of finding himself smiling and feeling strangely secure because of it.
- Smile.
It had been happening more and more.
Wally would just turn around, quickly and casually, give him a smile, a bright, bright, melting-down-all-walls-kinda smile, and then he'd turn around again.
Then he'd just walk away, while Bruce softly smiled back.
And after that, the smile didn't seem to leave anymore. It just stayed there, no matter how hard he tried to suppress it.
- Understanding.
It had been happening more and more, those moments where Wally would walk up to him for no reason at all.
"Hey Bats!"
The younger man would sit down next to him, staring at the monitor screens.
"Flash," he'd answer shortly.
And then they'd just sit next to each other and Wally'd talk and talk and talk without saying anything really, but Bruce never asked him to stop.
Because if it was silent, he'd somehow always feel alone and he'd start thinking about all these things he wouldn't want to think about. So he didn't mind the talking, the ranting, the never-ever-ending jokes and laughs.
He'd just listen, not really listen, but hear and somehow, always, he wouldn't feel so alone anymore, and it was like Wally was the only one who understood that.
- Silence.
It had been happening more and more.
Those moments, where something had happened and even Wally West was silenced, somehow lost in thought. It always happened when he was alone, though, as if, as soon as someone would walk in, he'd recover within a second and smile again.
So, in moments like these, moments where Wally didn't really want to smile, Bruce would walk up to him and just sit down somewhere, close to him.
Wally would lift his head up and say: "Hey, Bats."
Bruce would act as if he just came there by accident and he didn't really mean to be there and answer: "Hey, Flash."
And Wally would laugh and say: "call me Wally."
And Bruce would shrug, sit down and resume his work.
And then it would just be silent.
Bruce had never been really good at words and emotional stuff. He just couldn't name and describe what he felt, which often made people think he probably didn't feel anything.
At all.
He didn't really know how to comfort people, how to ease the pain, how to stop the tears. He didn't really know how to make someone smile, or laugh, because before he never really cared.
He didn't really know what to say to make Wally be Wally again, so he just kept silent.
But somehow, that would always work, because after sometime Wally would zip out of his chair, make some gym-like movements, yawn loudly and turn around.
Then he'd say: "Man, I'm off again! I'll die if I have to stay silent a second longer."
And then he'd be gone, gone in a flash, and sometimes Bruce could've swore he heard something as a 'thank you,' lingering in the room.
And then he'd look up, smile for a second and say: "No problem, Wally."
- Hurt.
It had been happening more and more.
He had scolded himself for it again and again, but each and every time again, his attention wavered and always went back to that one thought:
Is Wally okay?
He shook his head, commanding himself to concentrate at the battle at hand. How could he be think of anything else than surviving in a situation like this anyway?
I hope Wally isn't doing anything reckless.
He shook his head again.
"BATS! Look out!"
It sounded loud and panicked and it was Wally's voice.
So, Bruce turned around and his eyes widened as he saw the laser-like beam their alien enemy was able to shoot from his hands, coming right into his direction. Knowing it'd be too late to jump out of the way, knowing it was too late to do anything he –
-- Felt a push in his side, rolled over the ground and stood up in one continuous movement.
He had wanted to say something, but the deafening scream of pain, the sudden silence after that, the crashing sound of a building collapsing and the fact that it had been Wally who got hit, made him forget everything.
"Flash!" he screamed, his heart racing in a speed that could rival the boy's, who lay somewhere under collapsed stones.
It wasn't like him to be desperate but the thought,
You see? You let him down! You didn't have his back!
That sneering thought kept repeating.
He got hurt because of you.
He turned around desperately, finding the alien on the ground, twitching a bit. With a satisfied look on his face, Superman lowered his fist, but Bruce couldn't care less whether the alien was still a treat or not.
"Superman!" he shouted. "Flash! He is..."
Superman stood next to him in a second.
Bruce just pointed weakly at the ruins.
"I don't know if he's still…"
And even though he didn't say it, couldn't say it, the message was clear and Superman didn't need another word anyway.
Bruce watched weakly, as if it all happened far, far away from him, as if it wasn't really real, as if this wasn't happening, how the others smashed stone after stone to the side.
You can't really save anyone.
When John pulled the unconscious (or so Bruce hoped) redhead out of the stones, and he refused to look at anyone, Bruce wanted to die right where he stood.
He probably wouldn't have felt it, because nothing could hurt as much as the mere thought of a world without Wally.
- More and More.
He had sat there for hours. Hours. And Wally still hadn't opened his eyes.
The redhead was still alive, or so had J'onn stated, he was merely unconscious and sleeping.
Merely sleeping for three days.
The door silently creaked open.
"Bruce," the voice sounded polite.
He refused to answer. He hadn't spoken to anyone after the accident, nor had he moved from his place by Wally's side, not even to eat.
Superman sighed.
"You shouldn't blame yourself."
But he should.
"It wasn't your fault."
But it was.
"You couldn't know he would as foolish as to jumped before you?"
But he could.
"Don't worry, he'll wake up."
He had to.
He didn't look up, didn't shrug, didn't react, barely breathed. It didn't matter anyway. If Wally wasn't waking up anymore, he might as well not be there anymore.
But Wally couldn't really leave him without that he told him:
These moments where happening more and more, and he had come to like them more and more.
He had come to like Wally more and more.
More and more.
Too much.
And less and less, he actually cared about all those promises he made himself to never get close to anyone again.
He didn't even hear the door closing again, since the loneliness hadn't subsided for even the slightest second.
- Alive.
"Owh man, I thought the headaches I had during hangovers were bad…"
The first line he muttered in a week and it was supposed to be a joke. Despite that, Bruce couldn't bring himself to laugh. Instead he just breathed, for what felt the first time in a week.
"Oh… Hey Bats," Wally smiled when he finally noticed the silent man next to him.
"Good morning Wally," he said back.
It was silent for a moment. Wally tried to get up, but Bruce just pushed him back, with a slight shake of his head, inquiring that he shouldn't be moving around just yet.
Because even for Wally, that'd be way too fast.
The silence fell over them once more.
"So … How long have I been sleeping?"
"About a week."
"Damn, that's long. Hope my snoring didn't keep everyone awake."
"You don't snore," and he blurted it out before he really noticed and he could slap himself, but he couldn't really since he's Batman, and Batman didn't just slap himself all of sudden.
Why don't you just tell him right away you stayed at his side the whole time? Wanna hear him laugh at you so badly?
Wally stayed silent for a moment, then continued laughing: "that must've been quite a relief to you guys, then."
Bruce decided not to answer.
"Say, Bats… By any chance… Is there like… something to eat?"
"… You're awake for a minute and you're asking me if there's something to eat?"
"Yeah! Well, uh! I can totally do that! Since I … haven't eaten like a week!"
"We didn't just let you starve."
"Well! I haven't eaten in a week while knowing it. Ha! Can't say anything back on that one, huh?"
Bruce smiled a bit at his childish behaviour.
"I'll go find something to eat for you then," he paused. "Or have someone else do that."
"That's so gonna be the latter," another happy laugh.
"Most likely."
At the door he paused for a moment.
"Flash?"
"Wally. And yes, Bats?"
"Next time I…"
"Won't screw up?"
He laughed again.
And it didn't sound as caring as an 'I'm really sorry for getting you hurt' or a 'I won't do it again!' and it sounded all rather harsh and uncaring and cold and distant, and just what he's supposed to be, so he answered: "not my choice of words, but you've got the point."
It didn't sound like an apology at all, like a 'I was really worried you know!', but somehow, always, Wally seemed to have the point, because he smiled softly.
"Yeah. I know. Next time I won't screw up either then."
"I think I might've heard that line before."
And escorted by a happy, and faked –auwhcz-that-hurt-voice, Bruce left the room.
- Worth.
After a few hours, when Green Lantern had finally left the room again and the others had come and went away again, Bruce walked the room in for the second time that day.
Wally sat upward, slumped back in the pillow, staring annoyed and bored at the wall in front of him. At the sound of the door opening, he looked over his shoulder and winced from the pain, in one, super-fast movement.
Bruce just sighed. Since he still wasn't good at saying anything that involved the explanation of emotions, especially not when they were his, he decided to just sit next to him.
Wally seemed to be okay with waiting for a few moments, but got bored then.
"Hey Bats!" he smiled again.
"Flash," he answered back.
"… So… Uhm… I'm sorry?" Wally laughed again, a bit nervous.
"No need to apologize," he mentally slapped himself, because this was not going the way he wanted it.
"Uh. Yeah," Wally's eyes darted away.
He looked up again, with a confident grin.
"I kinda thought I'd be fast enough to get out of the way in time too," he shrugged, as if that miscalculation couldn't have cost his life, as if such an explanation explained things.
Bruce knew he's lying, because he knows that redheaded boy better than he should, better that he could, but then again, a lie this obvious would've been noted by anyone.
"You could've died."
'And I wouldn't have known how to live on without you,' is what he wanted to say, but he was Batman, so he didn't.
"Yeah, well," Wally shrugged, "It would've been worth it."
And Bruce felt like hurting him real bad for saying that. He felt like standing up furiously, so fast his chair would clatter to the ground. He felt like turning around and never ever coming back.
He felt like laughing so hollowly and sarcastically, he'd scare the crap out of even J'onn.
But instead he just sat still, because somehow nothing seemed to be possible, every movement demanding just too much power.
"It wouldn't have. With dieing there, the only one you would've saved was me," and he ignored the way that sounded.
"I think that's worth it," Wally replied, and it sounded so soft, fragile almost, it made Bruce shiver slightly.
And then suddenly, he cracked a real smile and stood up, but not so fast his chair would fall to the ground, because it stays just where it is and he walks up to the boy.
"No, I'm not worth dieing for," he grinned, placing one hand on each side of the redhead, who's mask had been pulled of by himself already, "But if you give me a chance, you may find out I'm most certainly worth living for."
Wally gave him an almost shy smile, as he opened his mouth to give some witty remark, but Bruce didn't want to hear it all, so instead he leaned just that little closer.
And then his lips are on Wally's, and the younger man's eyes widen and close in super-speed, before Bruce closed his own.
- Naturally.
It had been happening more and more.
Moments of transient, soft, super-fast touches.
Moments of being out of focus; tests of self-control and self-preservation.
Moments where there always, always was Wally and always, always Bruce.
Moments of small chuckles and loud, unrestrained laughter.
Moments of being understood without saying a word.
Moments of what just might be love and trust and happiness and all those other things, Batman nor Bruce couldn't really feel.
But even so, Bruce Wayne had come to find them naturally strange.
Or strangely natural.
He still had to figure that one out.

Description
Title: Naturally Strange and Strangely Natural.
Sumarry: It had been happening more and more, these transient little moments that left him wondering. Bruce/Wally
Warnings: BoyxBoy, though only a kiss. Oocness? XD

- Odd.
It was about the only word he could give it. It was about the only thing that popped in his mind. Odd, because he couldn't really explain it. Odd, because he somehow liked that term better than 'strange' or 'unusual,' because lately, it hadn't been that 'unusual' anymore.
It had been happening more and more.
He had been feeling it more and more.
But even so, it hadn't been so… unnerving and frustrating as it was before.
The first time it happened, the first time he felt like that, he had to keep himself from smashing something against the wall with about all the self-control he had, which was a lot.
Because, after all, he was Batman. Bruce Wayne.
He was, as the culprit of these actions would put it ' "the fudging epitome of self-control, dude, since if the world would blow up, he'd still be all calm and he'd give those screaming and freaking out people a death glare and ask: "guys, please, can't you panic without making so much noise? I can't even think." '
Even though he wasn't so sure he'd actually say that. But Wally West seemed to be absolutely sure of it.
So he probably would, because of all the people he ever met, it was strangely enough the hyper-active, always-acting-like-he's-sugar-high, confident and utterly annoying Wally West who seemed to somehow, strangely, know what he would think or do.
At first he had asked himself if he had become so easy to read, but after some time he had understood it was just because the younger man read so easily, so innocently and so unconsciously, he could probably even see through him.
So, he had come to live with that.
So, it had been happening more and more.
So, he still was as clueless as before.
So, he decided to treat it as it hadn't happened, because Batman understood everyone and everything and if that was not the case, it probably didn't exist.
So. These moments, these feelings and these nagging thoughts didn't really exist.
- Interesting.
After the … confusion, even though it wasn't a word he liked to use for it, he had come to find it rather interesting. Interesting, to see how the culprit could cover up all his tracks so easily, how he could make everyone fall for that goofy, big, confident grin of his.
Interesting, to see how he had caught his attention, how he caught it again and again by a simple look, a simple smile, a simple statement that, if you thought about it, actually wasn't as dumb and innocent as it sounded.
Wally West was an interesting person, for sure.
Interestingly different.
It had been happening more and more, those moments and those words.
Those moments that made him secretly frown and even more clandestinely lean back just a bit to hear him talk a little more clearly.
It had been happening more and more, that he found himself strangely intrigued and interested in what the redhead had to say.
Because, somehow, he had found that underneath the stupidity and brainlessness, underneath the endless source of confidence, the unstoppable spring of goofiness, he actually thought a lot of things through and the reasoning behind it wasn't always so dumb.
Just innocently naive, just misunderstood so easily.
But even so, he'd laugh it off, off, off. He'd laugh and grin and smile and joke until you were convinced of what he wanted you to be convinced off:
He's such an idiot.
Maybe Bruce wasn't the only one who fooled people into believing he was something that he wasn't.
Or at least not entirely.
- Transient.
It had been happening more and more.
It was so sudden, came so unprepared, spontaneous, natural almost. It went so fast, in such an incredible speed, Bruce sometimes wondered if he had really felt it.
Maybe be was just lying to himself, and maybe he should get that part of him to die.
When had it come to live anyway?
He didn't need to be loved, to have someone smiling to him as if he was some kind of person that wasn't always grumpy and cranky and bossing him around. He didn't need Wally West to do those things he did.
But still, everything it happened, every time again, he found his heart missing a beat, found himself feeling and wondering and it was all really strange and un-Bruce-like.
The first it happened, he had even stopped talking and looked around, to see Wally talking to Shayera as if nothing happened. And he had shaken his head, scolded himself, brushed it off, scolded himself some more and he had continued his talk with Superman, ignored the quirked eyebrow and look that said 'what-just-happened?'
It didn't last more than a second. It was just there and then it wasn't anymore.
Wally would just walk past him, and secretly, quickly, softly touch his hand or arm and then he'd walk away as if nothing happened.
Maybe nothing did.
Maybe, just maybe, Bruce just wanted it to happen.
As if maybe, just maybe he was imagining this all because some crazy, twisted, human part of his being wanted this to happen and he just told himself that it was because Wally was the Fastest Man Alive, it was so transient, so passing, so fleeing it was gone before he realised it.
And that thought kept nagging in the back of his mind, and it made him feel a bit strange. A bit... confused and scared and uncertain and all those things,
He promised himself he would never ever be again.
- Care.
It had been happening more and more.
It had been happening more and more, those moments where his heart stopped beating for several seconds, then started racing so hard he thought he would throw up and find his hearts laying on the cold, dirty streets.
The thought had crossed his mind more and more, when Wally, reckless, carefree, dumb as ever got himself almost dead and just in time, saved by a second not dead. The thought that filled everything, screamed secretly:
Don't leave me alone. Please, please don't die.
And it wasn't like him to beg. To even think about begging, to have a thought in is mind so strong and nagging, unwanted and painful that he stopped functioning for mere seconds, turned around and all he cared about was that he somehow had to save that man, because there was no way he could live on without him.
Which wasn't like him either.
It had been happening more and more, where he abandoned whatever he was doing, to go and save that still smiling man's ass, before he would get crushed, beaten, hit, killed.
And every time again, he would scold him and scream and yell and be so, so, so angry, because he could only show anger, instead of telling him that he wasn't mad, but just, so, so, so worried. But he couldn't really tell him, because Wally would just laugh and he would just joke and tell him something that would make him feel so stupid, so foolish.
He couldn't tell him, because he wouldn't be taken seriously either way.
He couldn't really care in Wally's eyes, because he was Batman.
And Batman didn't care.
It was an elementary rule. A simple statement that held so much power everyone somehow knew it and he wished they could all just forget it.
Because sometimes Batman does care.
He just couldn't show it.
- Always.
"Are you crazy?! Next time you do something foolish like that, just realise that you could've died and then no one would be helped with that!"
A pout.
They stood on the roof of a high skyscraper, his dark eyes taking in the mess that was the ground and his green eyes just shining contently because he had no idea he had made anyone worry about him, that he had scared the crap out of the emotionless Batman, that for Christ sake, he shouldn't try to die so much.
"But Bats! I couldn't let Shay get hurt, right? If she would've been hit, who knows what might've happened? Besides, I didn't really have to worry about dieing."
Bruce narrowed his eyes.
"And why is that?"
Sometimes he really wanted to punch the boy for being so confident.
"Because you got my back."
The confident grin stayed and Bruce had to keep himself from forcefully making it disappear.
"Always."
The grin even widened.
"So, you don't have to worry about dieing because I got your back? Now, I don't know if you noticed, but sometimes I'm a little busy with saving my own life, rather then keeping an eye on you."
His tone hardened even more, became so bitter he was waiting for the 'and how many lemons did you eat today?'-joke, as he said: "you shouldn't put so much trust in me, because I won't always be in time to save you."
Wally shrugged, as if he had just said something really stupid, such an obvious lie it wasn't even funny.
"Yeah, you will be," Wally laughed.
"I won't."
"So you say, Bats, but I still know you will somehow always have my back."
Bruce narrowed his eyes even more, pressed his lips into a tight, tight line and desperately tried to ignore that voice in the back of his mind, that just kept telling him:
If he trusts you he might as well commit suicide now.
Because, there's no way he can actually always have his back.
"Ah, don't look at me like that!" the redhead pouts. "You know it's true!"
Wally grinned confident.
"Just like I know, that if I do this –" he took a step backward, tripped not so very accidentally over his own feet and fell backward.
Would've fell backward, off a fifty stories high building, crashing right into the ground and died, if Bruce hadn't immediately, like some kind of reflex, stepped forward, and grabbed the younger man's wrist, preventing him from falling right to his death.
"—You'll always do that," he finished with a smile.
And Bruce couldn't really say anything back, because his heart was still recovering and he found himself strangely speechless, enraged at how frustrating true that innocent statement was.
Wally leaned back forward, let go of the hand that would've shaken in fear if Bruce wasn't Bruce and he gave him that smile, that grin, that smirk that chanted teasingly: 'I know more then I let on and you'll never ever find out.'
"Why that is of course," he shrugged again, laughed, "I wouldn't know."
But he did.
And it made Bruce want to punch him real hard, but Wally was gone before he could even blink.
- Trust.
It had been happening more and more.
Those moments where Bruce cursed himself for being nothing more then just human. That he cursed himself for not being able to move at the speed of light, to be so strong he could easily lift up a car with one hand and swirl it around like a beach ball, to have wings and a mace with which he could blow someone's brains out no sweat, that he didn't own a fancy ring that made him able to make anything his mind wanted.
Because, and he just knew it, if he would've been able to do those things, to be like them then he wouldn't have to wonder why in the world Wally West, The Fastest Man Alive, trusted him, him a mere rich kid, with a distrust of everyone, filled with issues and complexes and not a single power.
All he had were some fancy gadgets and the power to manipulate everyone, to scare the crap out of some punks.
He was sure that if he hadn't been just Bruce, the nagging voice in his head would shut up.
But now, because he was just and only Bruce Wayne, the voice just kept repeating it:
He puts all his trust in you and you will let him down.
Bruce suppressed a shiver and hoped he never had to witness the day where he wasn't in time.
He hoped he never had to witness the day where Wally West got hurt because Batman wasn't good enough.
- Focus.
It had been happening more and more.
He was used to watching people, understanding them, knowing them, being able to anticipate their every movement and to know every thought.
He was used to observe people, a habit he couldn't suppress.
What he wasn't used to however, was that as soon as he turned around, forcefully tore his eyes from the one person that had gotten all his attention and focus lately, he could feel the same eyes he had been looking at, looking at him.
He wasn't used of having people looking after him.
And he surely wasn't used of finding himself smiling and feeling strangely secure because of it.
- Smile.
It had been happening more and more.
Wally would just turn around, quickly and casually, give him a smile, a bright, bright, melting-down-all-walls-kinda smile, and then he'd turn around again.
Then he'd just walk away, while Bruce softly smiled back.
And after that, the smile didn't seem to leave anymore. It just stayed there, no matter how hard he tried to suppress it.
- Understanding.
It had been happening more and more, those moments where Wally would walk up to him for no reason at all.
"Hey Bats!"
The younger man would sit down next to him, staring at the monitor screens.
"Flash," he'd answer shortly.
And then they'd just sit next to each other and Wally'd talk and talk and talk without saying anything really, but Bruce never asked him to stop.
Because if it was silent, he'd somehow always feel alone and he'd start thinking about all these things he wouldn't want to think about. So he didn't mind the talking, the ranting, the never-ever-ending jokes and laughs.
He'd just listen, not really listen, but hear and somehow, always, he wouldn't feel so alone anymore, and it was like Wally was the only one who understood that.
- Silence.
It had been happening more and more.
Those moments, where something had happened and even Wally West was silenced, somehow lost in thought. It always happened when he was alone, though, as if, as soon as someone would walk in, he'd recover within a second and smile again.
So, in moments like these, moments where Wally didn't really want to smile, Bruce would walk up to him and just sit down somewhere, close to him.
Wally would lift his head up and say: "Hey, Bats."
Bruce would act as if he just came there by accident and he didn't really mean to be there and answer: "Hey, Flash."
And Wally would laugh and say: "call me Wally."
And Bruce would shrug, sit down and resume his work.
And then it would just be silent.
Bruce had never been really good at words and emotional stuff. He just couldn't name and describe what he felt, which often made people think he probably didn't feel anything.
At all.
He didn't really know how to comfort people, how to ease the pain, how to stop the tears. He didn't really know how to make someone smile, or laugh, because before he never really cared.
He didn't really know what to say to make Wally be Wally again, so he just kept silent.
But somehow, that would always work, because after sometime Wally would zip out of his chair, make some gym-like movements, yawn loudly and turn around.
Then he'd say: "Man, I'm off again! I'll die if I have to stay silent a second longer."
And then he'd be gone, gone in a flash, and sometimes Bruce could've swore he heard something as a 'thank you,' lingering in the room.
And then he'd look up, smile for a second and say: "No problem, Wally."
- Hurt.
It had been happening more and more.
He had scolded himself for it again and again, but each and every time again, his attention wavered and always went back to that one thought:
Is Wally okay?
He shook his head, commanding himself to concentrate at the battle at hand. How could he be think of anything else than surviving in a situation like this anyway?
I hope Wally isn't doing anything reckless.
He shook his head again.
"BATS! Look out!"
It sounded loud and panicked and it was Wally's voice.
So, Bruce turned around and his eyes widened as he saw the laser-like beam their alien enemy was able to shoot from his hands, coming right into his direction. Knowing it'd be too late to jump out of the way, knowing it was too late to do anything he –
-- Felt a push in his side, rolled over the ground and stood up in one continuous movement.
He had wanted to say something, but the deafening scream of pain, the sudden silence after that, the crashing sound of a building collapsing and the fact that it had been Wally who got hit, made him forget everything.
"Flash!" he screamed, his heart racing in a speed that could rival the boy's, who lay somewhere under collapsed stones.
It wasn't like him to be desperate but the thought,
You see? You let him down! You didn't have his back!
That sneering thought kept repeating.
He got hurt because of you.
He turned around desperately, finding the alien on the ground, twitching a bit. With a satisfied look on his face, Superman lowered his fist, but Bruce couldn't care less whether the alien was still a treat or not.
"Superman!" he shouted. "Flash! He is..."
Superman stood next to him in a second.
Bruce just pointed weakly at the ruins.
"I don't know if he's still…"
And even though he didn't say it, couldn't say it, the message was clear and Superman didn't need another word anyway.
Bruce watched weakly, as if it all happened far, far away from him, as if it wasn't really real, as if this wasn't happening, how the others smashed stone after stone to the side.
You can't really save anyone.
When John pulled the unconscious (or so Bruce hoped) redhead out of the stones, and he refused to look at anyone, Bruce wanted to die right where he stood.
He probably wouldn't have felt it, because nothing could hurt as much as the mere thought of a world without Wally.
- More and More.
He had sat there for hours. Hours. And Wally still hadn't opened his eyes.
The redhead was still alive, or so had J'onn stated, he was merely unconscious and sleeping.
Merely sleeping for three days.
The door silently creaked open.
"Bruce," the voice sounded polite.
He refused to answer. He hadn't spoken to anyone after the accident, nor had he moved from his place by Wally's side, not even to eat.
Superman sighed.
"You shouldn't blame yourself."
But he should.
"It wasn't your fault."
But it was.
"You couldn't know he would as foolish as to jumped before you?"
But he could.
"Don't worry, he'll wake up."
He had to.
He didn't look up, didn't shrug, didn't react, barely breathed. It didn't matter anyway. If Wally wasn't waking up anymore, he might as well not be there anymore.
But Wally couldn't really leave him without that he told him:
These moments where happening more and more, and he had come to like them more and more.
He had come to like Wally more and more.
More and more.
Too much.
And less and less, he actually cared about all those promises he made himself to never get close to anyone again.
He didn't even hear the door closing again, since the loneliness hadn't subsided for even the slightest second.
- Alive.
"Owh man, I thought the headaches I had during hangovers were bad…"
The first line he muttered in a week and it was supposed to be a joke. Despite that, Bruce couldn't bring himself to laugh. Instead he just breathed, for what felt the first time in a week.
"Oh… Hey Bats," Wally smiled when he finally noticed the silent man next to him.
"Good morning Wally," he said back.
It was silent for a moment. Wally tried to get up, but Bruce just pushed him back, with a slight shake of his head, inquiring that he shouldn't be moving around just yet.
Because even for Wally, that'd be way too fast.
The silence fell over them once more.
"So … How long have I been sleeping?"
"About a week."
"Damn, that's long. Hope my snoring didn't keep everyone awake."
"You don't snore," and he blurted it out before he really noticed and he could slap himself, but he couldn't really since he's Batman, and Batman didn't just slap himself all of sudden.
Why don't you just tell him right away you stayed at his side the whole time? Wanna hear him laugh at you so badly?
Wally stayed silent for a moment, then continued laughing: "that must've been quite a relief to you guys, then."
Bruce decided not to answer.
"Say, Bats… By any chance… Is there like… something to eat?"
"… You're awake for a minute and you're asking me if there's something to eat?"
"Yeah! Well, uh! I can totally do that! Since I … haven't eaten like a week!"
"We didn't just let you starve."
"Well! I haven't eaten in a week while knowing it. Ha! Can't say anything back on that one, huh?"
Bruce smiled a bit at his childish behaviour.
"I'll go find something to eat for you then," he paused. "Or have someone else do that."
"That's so gonna be the latter," another happy laugh.
"Most likely."
At the door he paused for a moment.
"Flash?"
"Wally. And yes, Bats?"
"Next time I…"
"Won't screw up?"
He laughed again.
And it didn't sound as caring as an 'I'm really sorry for getting you hurt' or a 'I won't do it again!' and it sounded all rather harsh and uncaring and cold and distant, and just what he's supposed to be, so he answered: "not my choice of words, but you've got the point."
It didn't sound like an apology at all, like a 'I was really worried you know!', but somehow, always, Wally seemed to have the point, because he smiled softly.
"Yeah. I know. Next time I won't screw up either then."
"I think I might've heard that line before."
And escorted by a happy, and faked –auwhcz-that-hurt-voice, Bruce left the room.
- Worth.
After a few hours, when Green Lantern had finally left the room again and the others had come and went away again, Bruce walked the room in for the second time that day.
Wally sat upward, slumped back in the pillow, staring annoyed and bored at the wall in front of him. At the sound of the door opening, he looked over his shoulder and winced from the pain, in one, super-fast movement.
Bruce just sighed. Since he still wasn't good at saying anything that involved the explanation of emotions, especially not when they were his, he decided to just sit next to him.
Wally seemed to be okay with waiting for a few moments, but got bored then.
"Hey Bats!" he smiled again.
"Flash," he answered back.
"… So… Uhm… I'm sorry?" Wally laughed again, a bit nervous.
"No need to apologize," he mentally slapped himself, because this was not going the way he wanted it.
"Uh. Yeah," Wally's eyes darted away.
He looked up again, with a confident grin.
"I kinda thought I'd be fast enough to get out of the way in time too," he shrugged, as if that miscalculation couldn't have cost his life, as if such an explanation explained things.
Bruce knew he's lying, because he knows that redheaded boy better than he should, better that he could, but then again, a lie this obvious would've been noted by anyone.
"You could've died."
'And I wouldn't have known how to live on without you,' is what he wanted to say, but he was Batman, so he didn't.
"Yeah, well," Wally shrugged, "It would've been worth it."
And Bruce felt like hurting him real bad for saying that. He felt like standing up furiously, so fast his chair would clatter to the ground. He felt like turning around and never ever coming back.
He felt like laughing so hollowly and sarcastically, he'd scare the crap out of even J'onn.
But instead he just sat still, because somehow nothing seemed to be possible, every movement demanding just too much power.
"It wouldn't have. With dieing there, the only one you would've saved was me," and he ignored the way that sounded.
"I think that's worth it," Wally replied, and it sounded so soft, fragile almost, it made Bruce shiver slightly.
And then suddenly, he cracked a real smile and stood up, but not so fast his chair would fall to the ground, because it stays just where it is and he walks up to the boy.
"No, I'm not worth dieing for," he grinned, placing one hand on each side of the redhead, who's mask had been pulled of by himself already, "But if you give me a chance, you may find out I'm most certainly worth living for."
Wally gave him an almost shy smile, as he opened his mouth to give some witty remark, but Bruce didn't want to hear it all, so instead he leaned just that little closer.
And then his lips are on Wally's, and the younger man's eyes widen and close in super-speed, before Bruce closed his own.
- Naturally.
It had been happening more and more.
Moments of transient, soft, super-fast touches.
Moments of being out of focus; tests of self-control and self-preservation.
Moments where there always, always was Wally and always, always Bruce.
Moments of small chuckles and loud, unrestrained laughter.
Moments of being understood without saying a word.
Moments of what just might be love and trust and happiness and all those other things, Batman nor Bruce couldn't really feel.
But even so, Bruce Wayne had come to find them naturally strange.
Or strangely natural.
He still had to figure that one out.