---- From chapter 14 ----

R: Which one of you assholes wrote "get hard" on my car in chalk

----

Wally braced himself before he even left Dick's old room. When it came to Wayne Manor, there were no safe zones, something mischievous and sticky could be burling straight towards you at any given moment, ready to smack you right in your perfectly sculpted hair the second you opened the door.

In this case, that something was 5'4, 140 lbs, and had a katana strapped to its back.

"Good morning, Damian," he greeted. Cringing internally at the sound of his own voice. Dick had lectured him endlessly about the importance of socializing the new bat properly, like some kind of re-homed feral dog, and they had even started spending weekends at the Manor again to that end.

...A description which, Wally had quickly realized, was not far off. This was as close as he'd gotten to the newest member of his favourite group of neurodivergent slightly-off societal outcasts, and clearly, Damian, who had very firmly established that he would not socialize with anyone outside of assassinating them, was less than happy about it.

At least, that's what Wally gathered from the dark look and the way he quickly disappeared into thin air.

"He likes you," Dick murmured sleepily as he came up behind Wally in the doorway, sticking his cold hands of death up Wally's shirt and stealing all his body heat.

"Coulda' fooled me," Wally replied good-naturedly. Even Jason hadn't been so unfriendly at first, even if he did- and continued to- try and rob Wally at fork-point. Terrifying, if you didn't know Jason. More so if you did.

But, if Dick said the small, feral child liked him, Wally wasn't going to try and argue.

"Stephs' here today," was Dick's next point, apparently satisfied with the amount of heat he'd sucked out of Wally for the moment, pulling back and disappearing into his large walk-in closet.

"To help socialize Damian?" Tim had taken to referring to him as 'the demon,' or it, which Wally had been told Damian actually preferred, though he was unsure if it was to spite Tim or not, Wally had a gut feeling he would not survive referring to Damian with anything but proper social formality for several years at least.

"No," Dick's voice echoed out of the closet. Wally didn't dare follow after him, vivid memories of the twisting maze of Italian and French suits and crop tops still too much for him after the last time. "Most likely it's to kill him."

"Oh," Wally said flatly as Dick re-emerged. 12-year-old Wally would have never guessed that acclaimed high-fashion icon Dick Grayson was the graphic-t type, but here he was, slick sunglasses and lean body, a crop top with"daddy's boy" in blue airy, bubble letters across his chest, and streetwear pants with too many pockets and chains for one reasonable person. Separation anxiety from his utility belt probably- it was a real phenomenon.

This time of year was always rough for Dick, Wally knew, he'd witnessed Dick obsess and overwork himself until the mask just seemed like another part of him he could never take off. He'd watched him clutch at reality, trying to pull himself out of his own mind before it was too late. His vision already frayed at the sides, his hands shaking, feeling heavy with the weight of blood that was no longer on them. In Dick's own words, CPTSD be like that.

It had taken a lot for Dick to pull himself out of that place, a meticulously crafted mixture of a proper sleep schedule and diet, support systems, therapy, and self-care, plus the gentle- and sometimes firm- encouragement of his loving husband, and he was almost a whole functioning person.

"Babe," Dick pressed a kiss to his cheek as he ducked around him, "I'm kidding."

Wally rushed to get dressed and follow after him, still lost in overly sweet thoughts about how far his husband had come and how proud he was, super speed coming in incredibly handy as always. "I know."

Dick turned around and flashed him a smile, a sneak-peak of sharp, pearly white teeth that reminded Wally to adjust the collar of his shirt, before he stopped, narrowed his eyes, "Why are you grinning at me like that-"

Wally didn't bother trying to hide the fond look on his face, using a bit of speed to wrap his arms around Dick's waist and pull him close, kissing the underside of his jaw briefly, "Simply in love with you."

Dick rolled his eyes, undeniably leaning into the affection, "I would hope so."

They stumble over each other, not quite willing to let go completely as they staggered down the hallways. There's a soft, blue-coloured light just barely filling the shape of the hallway outside Tim's room, enough to tell Tim was working in the complete dark again without taking a break since sometime before sunset, too deep in hyper-focusing to even notice the shadows growing on the walls as the light faded out.

But when Dick peeked inside, he turned around smiling, so much so that Wally couldn't resist also glancing through the ajar door. Tim was asleep, a mess of blankets he'd kicked to the floor, Jason passed out half on top of him, the remnants of a struggle around them, no doubt from Jason wrestling Tim away from his computers after getting back from patrol.

"How do we know Steph is here?" Wally asked, after inching Tim's door shut.

"First of all, Kon's not," as loveable as Tim was, his friends repelled each other like magnets. Wally couldn't say he'd ever seen Steph and Kon in a room together. Bart and Kon seemed to get along just fine, but Wally wasn't sure how much he trusted his impulsive, conniving little cousin and their easily-convinced super friend within the same city limits, let alone room.

"Second of all," Dick continued, shoving his phone into Wally's face. Wally leaned back a little to be able to read Roy's message to the group chat.

R: Which one of you assholes wrote "get hard" on my car in chalk

Wally laughed a little, pulling out his own phone.

W: That's what you get for leaving your car at the manor

Cass read the message instantly, a heart appearing under it moments later.

When they finally entered the living room, it was to Stephanie herself, engaging in some kind of 4D psychological warfare with the coffee table, her face smooshed against it firmly while Cass seemed to be trying to employ a foreign telepathy technique to communicate with Damian.

After a moment of intense eye contact, they nodded solemnly and pet Steph's hair soothingly, "It says it hates you."

Stephanie walled into the glass, "I just wanted a little brother... Tim is never any fun. He calls me names when I try to braid his hair. I'm going to die."

"Someones a pessimist," Dick snuffed, giving Wally's hand one last squeeze before he departed to read Barbara's book over her shoulder.

"More of a... hopeful nihilist" Cass replied, still playing with Stephanie's hair, less in a comforting way and more in awe of the length.

"Life is meaningless and I want to die."

"I take back the hopeful part."

"It's ok," Barbara comforted, tone flippant and not comforting at all, turning a page before Dick had finished reading, "brothers are the worst."

Damian had disappeared at some point, soon after it had caught sight of Wally, but Wally had a feeling it had stuck close by, especially with the way Cass seemed to still be engaging in silent conversation. Regardless, he kept his eyes politely away from the darkest shadows of the room. Bat-etiquette and all.

His phone buzzed in his pocket.

R: I diDNT

Wally, never not delighted by Roy's various misfortunes, watched as Dick flashed Stephanie his screen, Steph, in her typical one-extreme-to-another fashion perked up instantly. Clearly, it had been a team effort. Though Wally was still unclear on Steph's fixation with harassing Roy, some form of possession over Tim if he had to guess. Steph communicated with less pretentiousness than the others, her actions were usually very blatant and didn't head social laws. 

"Can we go bother Roy?"

"Never not willing to bother Roy," Barbara agreed, closing her book loudly. 

"Agreed," Dick hummed, wrinkling his nose when Barbara pushed his face to the side.

"I wouldn't call what you do bothering him."

Wally took a deep breath, trying to keep his face from going red like the premature, easily embarrassed teenager he swore he no longer was and adjusted his shirt again.

"Yeah, 'get hard' alright," Steph chuckled with significantly less interest in subtlety than Barbara had, complete with obscene hand gestures Cass delicately blocked from Damian's view. 

Dick turned away from wherever Damian was concealing itself in the shadows and winked before resuming his mature, older-brother golden-boy composure and appropriately scolding them for their immaturity. 

"Great," Tim scoffed as he dragged himself into the room, Jason a few feet behind him, "now I have to pour bleach in my ears." 

Jason stared flatly ahead, "I live with him. I've been desensitized."

"All of you are the worst," Wally decided. He had the vague sense that Damian agreed with him. "I'm going back to bed."

"God, me too," Tim agreed, despite clearly making his way to the entrance of the bat-cave, "as soon as I fix this last bit of code..." his voice faded off as he disappeared below, his footfalls echoing before the entrance sealed up behind him.

Wally stifled a yawn as he headed back up the stairs. Most likely, he would get halfway through brushing his teeth before Dick will have convinced him to head to Star City with Barbara, Cass and Steph, armed with the information of a farmers market he knew the lesbian trio wouldn't be able to resist. Wally was guilty of the same fondness for them and of course, Roy would be dragged along, Tim and Jason too, if Dick could peel Tim away from the bat-computer. 

Wally was already doing the calculations on how much they could fit into the back of Roy's car when Dick's hand slipped into his, squeezing slightly as they wandered through the sunlit hallways.