Aw11041 requested birdflash and since their other request will take a while I'll shove it in here

Nightwing was an expert at hiding injuries so when it became noticeable he was trying to do so, there was a big problem. He had a pretty good pain tolerance that had come from being on the job for so long and aided further with extensive training on pain management he was put through. Although it went against the protocols that Batman had taught him, hiding injuries came as second nature, especially around the Dark Knight. Finding the hero passed out somewhere because he decided to do a run with busted ribs or catching him in the last few seconds of stitching himself was common although not happily accepted. It wasn't like there was much anyone could do though because he was a grown man with his own agency and they couldn't mother-hen him until he agreed to take better care of himself. Well, they couldn't until Wally came into the picture.

After being friends for years and becoming boyfriends, they knew almost everything about one another (give or take details Dick refused to disclose.) Given their past, Wally had become accustomed to all the techniques his boyfriend used to hide the injuries he'd sustained from his dangerous life. The same life that Wally had given up. Sometimes it gave him a sick guilty feeling watching the acrobat limp into their apartment because he had to wonder if he was there would he had been able to stop it but then he was reminded of how much being a hero took out of him. It was exhausting, that type of exhaustion that burrowed into your bones and never left. He still felt exhausted but he could live with the lingering guilt and the lazy day here or there. Still, he wasn't there to be a civilian completely and he had ways to deal with the guilt, one of which was getting the truth out of his boyfriend so Dick didn't spend his precious hours off the clock giving himself an infection. He'd tried a few methods in their months of living together but he needed something more efficient and less guilt-trippy. Tonight, if there was an injury and he knew there would be because Nightwing's solo appearance facing off a whole faction of a gang was bound to end up with an injury or two, he'd try something a little sweeter even if the whole dance he had to do to give the idiot some medical treatment made him want to scream.

Predictably, Nightwing climbed in through the window in the early hours of the morning. It certainly wasn't the latest he'd ever come in but it wasn't exactly early either. He was slow when coming in, keeping quiet, and if Wally hadn't been awake to wait for him he wouldn't have noticed the intrusion. Dick liked to be quiet when coming back so as to not disturb him which was both sweet and infuriating because he could be met with the sight of Dick passed out in the bathroom with a shallow pool of blood beneath him.

"Dick?" he called from the bedroom. The window Dick used was just across the hall, giving him quick access to the bathroom with the first aid kit and the bed he'd flop face down into. He used to use the window in the bedroom but stopped when they moved in together. The habit had stuck for the first month until Wally threw a remote at his head so hard it gave him a mild concussion. "Babe is that you?" he asked when he didn't receive a reply.

"Yeah just me," came the breathy response that had the ginger getting out of bed. He stood in the doorway, taking in Nightwing's frankly dishevelled form. His suit was torn up, he looked like he'd been dunked into water and there was blood splatter everywhere to the point where Wally was sure it couldn't be all his otherwise he'd be dead. For a brief moment, all he could do was stare. He felt the familiar protectiveness rear its head and the desperate need to find who did this, gather their names and hunt them down so they knew not to mess with them again. Had they been younger, he would've asked who did it but it got to that point where he knew there was no point not only because he no longer had the means to make them pay but also because who was keeping track? Henchmen, gangs, and even some of the D-list villains had turned into the same lump of generally bad people. Dick straightened up when he noticed his boyfriend in the doorway, still trying to hide his very obvious injuries. "I'll get cleaned up," he stated before dipping into the bathroom. He closed the door but not completely, giving Wally the go-ahead to follow him inside despite not saying he could.

For a minute or so, they said nothing. Wally watched Dick stand on his tiptoes to reach the first aid kit, withholding the giggle at the sight of a grown man doing his best impression of a child reaching for a jar of cookies, before sitting on the toilet to begin his patch-up work. He may be stupid enough to attempt to hide his injuries and how much pain he was truly in but he was smart enough to disinfect the cuts before working on them. Alfred would have his head if he didn't and he'd know even if not told. It was like a sixth sense. Or someone snitching on him. He paused briefly as Wally sighed to himself as he perched himself on the bathtub, inspecting his boyfriend instead of going back to bed.

"Go back to bed, I'll join you after," he stated.

"I don't want to go back," Wally replied softly.

"I'm fine-"

"What happened love?" the speedster asked. Dick practically melted at the pet name as the tension that had been built in his shoulders suddenly bled out. He instinctively moved closer to him although not outright sitting beside Wally and chewed on his bottom lip thoughtfully.

"I took 'em down just got a little roughed up in the process." His confession surprised Wally as they hadn't even had their usual dance around. It usually took some wearing down to this stage of even admitting he wasn't in the same condition he left it. Wally silently revised the question he'd asked and smiled softly when he noted his own use of a pet name. His boyfriend always did go soft at them. "It's mostly superficial. Cuts, bruises but uhm, it'd probably be good to get warm soon. Sorta got lightly tortured."

"Lightly tortured?"

"For like half a minute. I got dunked in some water and put in a freezer but I was in there no more than a few minutes I promise." For a moment, the ginger thought he'd fallen back asleep and was dreaming all this because this was the fastest he'd ever gotten a real answer and to think it came from something so simple was both relieving and aggravating since he hadn't thought of it before.

"What do you need from me, sweetheart?" Wally asked softly, pairing it cupping his cheek which he realized was freezing. He shouldn't have been so surprised but then again he was still convinced he was asleep so maybe he hadn't left the space in between yet.

"Can you get me a change of clothes? The sweats I wear in winter would be good?" He nodded and pressed a kiss against the acrobat's forehead before leaving, pleased with the progress he'd gotten. "Love you!"

"Love you more."

He returned to the bathroom with sweatpants and a hoodie, finding his boyfriend finishing the last of the stitches he needed. It seemed a lot of the blood was coming from varying scratches that were shallow in themselves but collected together to form thick trickles of crimson. Some of it was definitely from someone else and he could tell by the slightly off look Dick was wearing that his mind was somewhere else. Later they'd talk about that part of things but he wouldn't do so now. It would be too fresh and the acrobat had a tendency to space out if he didn't have enough time to process it at his own pace. Usually, there'd be a week where it wouldn't be mentioned and then Dick would give him the full story because he'd been writing up the mission report which caused it all to be brought up. Wally placed the clothes on the sink counter and began undoing the knots in his boyfriend's hair gently with his fingers. Predictably, the vigilante leaned into his touch with a low hum.

"Shouldn't you take a shower before putting on new clothes?" he suggested. Dick shrugged as he glanced over to the shower and rubbed his temples. Yeah, he could remember hating the shower when all he wanted was to crawl up in bed. He thought about it for a moment then nodded to himself. "C'mon, I'll help you. I need one anyway." Dick frowned and moved away, although it was clear he had to think hard about the action when he oh so clearly wanted to keep close.

"It's two in the morning and you have work tomorrow."

"I'll take the morning off, that's what the flexi-time is for. I'll text them now that you've got a bug," he offered. "Even if I can't get it off, I don't go in till eleven. Let me help you, babe." He watched as Dick thought it over in his head, still hesitant but not settling on saying so. That was all the go-ahead Wally needed to turn on the shower and help the man strip before tending to his own clothes.

In their early days, this would've left them both a blushing mess but now it felt like the right kind of closeness they needed after hard days. Sometimes it was difficult with one of them running off in the night to save lives whilst the other tried to connect with their civilian roots. Wally had long since given up the fight to get Dick to join him and Dick had only tried to pull him back on the field when absolutely needed. Still, the ginger could tell that some days Dick wanted him to be out there with him and he had no doubt today was one of them. The acrobat remained close to him the whole shower even when he'd warmed up nicely. They didn't talk much aside from asking to be passed various products but they didn't need to. Being close felt like enough for now. They were in the shower for at least an hour, longer than needed to wash off the blood but Dick needed that long for the colour to return to his face. They stepped out and Wally helped him dry off, careful of the cuts and bruises, giggling at the mess he made of the man's hair when he threw the towel over it. The curls were mad there and they both knew it would be hell in the morning but neither made a move to look for a hairbrush. It was almost laughable that despite spending an hour together naked and even longer living with one another, they still turned their backs to one another when getting changed back into their clothes.

"How are you feeling babe?" Wally asked as they made their way to the bedroom.

"Feels like I've been run over by a bus. A very cold bus."

"You're still cold?" he fretted, putting the back of his hand on the man's face and pulling away with a frown. "You're warm."

"Just cold inside then."

"Aw sweetheart, what am I gonna do with you?" He pressed a kiss against Dick's cheek before climbing back into bed with the acrobat following after him. They quickly cuddled up together despite the mild discomfort of damp hair resting on Wally's chest. "Thanks for coming right out with it tonight. I know you find it hard." A soft sigh escaped the acrobat as he wrapped his arms around his boyfriend. "Why uh why do you do that?"

The question was out there before Wally could really think about the ramifications and he already regretted it when he felt arms tighten around him but he didn't take it back. Maybe he'd get an answer tonight despite having asked the same question hundreds of times only to hear deflections. Dick chewed on his bottom lip as he contemplated the answer and drew the blankets up until they sat comfortably under his chin.

"I feel so immensely broken inside and such a burden to those around me that this is somehow cathartic," he explained. It was painfully honest, so much so that Wally felt the air being knocked out of him. "It's better if I fix myself up. I kinda like that dread?"

"What do you mean?"

"When you know you're the only one who can handle it, you get this like sick feeling. Like what you get when you have to go on missions with low success rates." Wally wished the feeling was vaguer than it was because just remembering it made him feel sick to his stomach and here Dick was doing it often and somehow enjoying the feeling. It wasn't enjoyment like enjoying a good bowl of cereal, he knew that. He could assume it was like that enjoyment he got when he worked out so hard his muscles hurt like hell but it satisfied that voice telling him he wasn't fast enough. "I know it's fucked up to like it and it's probably a treasure trove for some psychiatrist."

"Oh definitely. I bet Harley could write a whole paper on it," Wally replied.

"She's asked already," he answered after giving a playful tap. "It's weird. It doesn't matter how many times people worry more because I made myself worse. Always does feel right at the moment to deal with it on my own."

"So why did me calling you love break that?"

"Because you break my brain." Wally grinned, taking the comment as high praise. Not everyone could admit they broke a bat, that's for sure. "Have to admit it was nice to have the help."

"Well, given the results, I'll have to call you pet names more often."

"Maybe I'd like that," he muttered, his eyelids beginning to droop. "You make me feel less broken." He snuggled up further to the ginger and let himself drop off to sleep, leaving Wally with that statement. God, someone needed to get this guy a therapist.