Vigilante Justice - A Young Justice Fanfiction

Chapter 26: A Bird Cusses and a Martian Plays Peacekeeper

To say that Wally was shocked would be. . .an understatement.

A serious, serious understatement.

It felt like the world expanded, stretched, then came crashing back into perspective. Except now the sun was blue, or the trees had purple leaves. Like everything was wrong.

Everything had shifted slightly to the left, just enough to be disconcerting.

His mouth was probably hanging open, hands slack as he stared at the vigilante—detective?

Wally didn't even want to think about it.

Apparently, he wasn't the only one finding this hard to swallow.

"You mean you're our Dick? Not a dick but like Dick Dick?" Artemis was scrutinizing him from over the couch, disbelief and horror battling it out on her features.

Nightwing—Dick???—crossed his arms and huffed at her, slouching where he sat, the picture of nonchalance. Meanwhile, Wally reeled like he'd just gotten a slap to the face.

But...now that he was looking for it, the mannerisms were all there. He could see Detective Grayson in the tense line of Nightwing's shoulders; the invisible weight that always seemed to be pulling them down.

The height, physique, and hair colour were all the same, too. Even though Grayson usually wore his hair styled back, while Nightwing's was flopping over his forehead in a sweaty poof.

Actually, now that Wally was looking at him, the speedster didn't know how they hadn't figured it out sooner. There was almost no barrier between the disguises.

But, c'mon, Richard Wayne-Grayson? A vigilante? The idea was laughable.

And yet, here they were.

Richard Wayne-Grayson.

Wayne.

Richard Wayne Grayson, ward of Bruce Wayne.

Bruce.

Wally froze as a horrible thought occurred to him.

The man's physique, hidden beneath baggy suits. The wide shoulders, the glare that sometimes slipped out when he was dealing with a particularly nosey paparazzi. The location, Wayne's investment in Gotham's crime...

Impossible, right? Yet everything was suddenly starting to make a lot more sense.

"No," Wally's eyes widened, staring at the figure on their couch like he'd just grown a second head. "Wait, no. No way."

"What?" Artemis barked, "What is it?"

"Does—does that mean Batman is Bruce freakin' Wayne?"

Artemis staggered back like she'd been struck, her hand flying to her mouth as she turned to stare at Nightwing. Even Kaldur, usually left unshaken by even the most of brutal secrets, looked taken aback.

"There's no way," The archer breathed out, stumbling away and almost tripping over the uneven floorboards. "There's no way. No way in hell, no—"

"How about we let Nightwing explain himself, hm?" M'gann hummed, pausing in her re-assembly of the first aid kit. "Wouldn't that be nice?"

"Way to throw me under the bus," Nightwing—Dick? Wally didn't know what to call him—muttered beneath his breath. His posture was still slouched defensively, gloved hands never straying far from his belt.

Oddly slick looking gloves, barely visible in the semi-darkness. Wally squinted, trying to determine what was coating them, then realized—

"Is that blood? Artemis, turn on the lights!" The speedster moved towards the couch, only to have Nightwing flatten himself even further into the cushions, glaring at him.