Nightwing Oneshots

Robin XXII

Wally's POV

⚠️Mentions of Self Harm | Depression | Anxiety | Mental Health Struggles⚠️

He grinned at my joke and sat down next to me, tapping his fingers against the cool glass of his water as he stared at the counter, his smile falling. "I just still can't believe you're here. Like, alive."

"Yeah, me too," I said, patting myself down. "It's nice to be... real, y'know? To actually feel real."

He frowned as his eyebrows furrowed, and his hands tightened around his glass. "Yeah."

He took a sip of his water, and that's when I noticed it: faint scars traced along his wrist, revealed when he lifted up his arm and his sleeve fell down. I thought back to when we were younger, and the very few scars he had on his left wrist. But this was different; this was his right wrist.

"Hey, Dick..." I said softly as he set down his water and glanced over at me with his eyebrows raised. 

I grabbed his hand and started to flip his wrist over when he quickly pulled his arm away and stood up, grabbing his water. 

"I... have some place to be," he said, putting his cup in the sink and rubbing his arm as he started to speed-walk away.

"Dick—" I started, standing up too.

"I need to go," he said through clenched teeth, still trying to walk away from me.

I ran in front of him and grabbed both his hands, making him stop. For the first time, I realized how mature he looked. His jawline was more defined and he was nearly taller than me, but that didn't change anything. If I saw what I thought I saw—

"Wally." He said, staring into my eyes. 

"Dick." I said, not backing down.

His eyes slowly softened. "Wally, please—"

"Look, I get it if you don't wanna talk about it," I said, lowering my voice. "But, Dick, I've been gone for what, almost a year? I just want to make sure you're okay."

His eyes hardened again, and I immediately knew he was masking his emotions again, just like he told me Batman had taught him. 

"I'm fine," he said, trying to pull his hands away.

I simply let go and he gave me a confused look. "I'm not going to force you to tell me anything," I said quietly. "Just know I'm here if you want to talk."

He pursed his lips, nodded, and walked away. And I let him. Of course, I was worried about him, but I wasn't like I used to be. I wasn't going to push him to tell me anything. I wanted him to be comfortable enough to tell me instead of just pushing him to his breaking point to get him to spill. 

Dick's POV

"Sh**, sh**, sh**," I cursed, anxiously rubbing my fingers over the scars on my wrist as I paced back and forth in my room. 

Wally was right; I wasn't doing okay. Ever since he died, my depression had reached an all time low and the amount of times I had to cut myself to stay grounded was out the roof. I had been clean for about 5 days, but I was seriously tempted right then to pick up my blade and start cutting again. 

"That motherf******," I swore, sitting down on my bed and putting my head in my hands, trying to breathe deeply as I ran my hands through my hair.

I was trying so hard to get better, but I could feel myself on the verge of a panic attack. Ever since he died I had kept my self harm to myself. The whole team used to know everything, and now they knew nothing except for that it happened every now and again. I used to tell Wally everything, too, but now the fact that he could find out again freaked me out, especially because it was so much worse than it used to be. 

I couldn't bear to see how he would react. The way he reacted when we were younger was bad, and I really didn't think I could handle him reacting the same way again. But just barely, he was being more cautious and gentle than he was before, so maybe he had changed?

Just talk to him. He's your best friend.

Without thinking twice about it, I got up, opened my door, and nearly ran down the hallway back to the kitchen. 

Don't talk to him. He's just going to react bad again and make you cut yourself more. In fact, he doesn't even care. Just slit your wrists some more. It'll solve everything. 

"Dick? Hey, hey, what's wrong?" 

I didn't even realize I was in the kitchen, or that Wally was standing in front of me with his hands on my shoulders, or that I was crying, until I found myself sobbing on the floor in Wally's arms. He held me in his arms as I cried and shakily tried to roll up my sleeves to show him everything. 

"Shh, hey, it's okay," he said, gently placing his hand on top of mine and rolling my sleeves back down. "Not right now."

He let me cry until I had no tears left, then I pulled away from him and sat up, trying to breathe normally.

"You okay? Do you wanna talk about it?" he asked gently, placing a hand on my knee. 

I sniffled and tried to focus on breathing while slowly shaking my head, wiping my eyes. "I-I dunno..." I mumbled, leaning back into him. "It's just been a rough year without you..."

We sat in silence for a while, just being simply content with being in each other's presence. Eventually, I gathered the courage to roll up my sleeves so he could see.

"It has been a rough year," he murmured, hugging me gently while staring at the scars on my arm. "I'm sorry, Rob..."

"Hey, I'm not Robin anymore," I said, elbowing him softly in the stomach. 

"Hey, I had called you that for years," he retorted, elbowing me back. "I'm still going to call you that no matter what you change your hero name to."

I rolled my eyes. "You're such a pain."

He smirked. "Only for you, babe."

I raised my eyebrows at him. "Back to the flirting stage?"

He shrugged. "Artemis has moved on, and so have I. I gotta step my game back up."

"Yeah, whatever," I said, rolling my sleeves back down. 

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-ziakalar