Sick Bird.

60. Pillow Fight.

Wally cleared his throat, his voice suddenly turning serious. "What makes you think that?"

"Don't you dare lie to me, Wally."

"Who says I'm lying?" Wally stared into Dick's eyes, knowing if Roy came here the thirteen year old would leave immediately. "I can't believe just because you can't find him you're blaming me."

Silence followed and Dick frowned and tugged on the the speedster's sleeve.

"You really don't have him?" Roy's voice croaked and guilt rippled through Wally's gut as the archer continued. "I'm sorry for blaming you... I'm just worried about him."

"Why what happened?" Wally asked, his voice laced with pure worry.

"He learnt something he shouldn't have then he walked off... There are still people around trying to take him away."

"Oh," Wally sighed, glaring at Dick. "Do you think he'll be okay?"

"He turned his tracker off."

"Oh." Wally repeated, not knowing what to say. Leave it to Dick to make himself untraceable.

"Are you sure he's not with you?"

"Roy, I..."

Wally couldn't react before Dick picked up his phone. "I'm here Roy."

"What?... Dick is that you?"

"Yeah."

"Are you okay?"

"If you don't tell Bruce where I am you can come over and see for yourself," Dick didn't answer and got straight to the point.

"Dick." Roy sighed, probably knowing that he had no other choice. "Fine, I'll be there in half an hour."

"Good." The boy smiled brightly and winked at the paling speedster. "Bring snacks when you come."

"What?" The archer's voice raised in surprise. "Are we really having a sleepover?"

"Yup, all the three of us, just like old times before we became too busy having to save the world all the time." Dick joked, but his voice still carried a hint of sadness.

"Well, I'm not made of money, you know?"

Dick paused, then turned to Wally with a raised brow.

"Mall," Wally mouthed slowly. "You have a mall."

The acrobat blinked then grinned. "I own a mall, remember?"

"You damn lucky... Ugh!" Roy groaned. "Fine, as long as everything is free, snacks are on me."

"Is that a promise?"

"Yes, you annoying brat."

"Fine!" Dick rolled his eyes about to hang up.

"Tell Wally I'm coming for his head." Roy suddenly said, cutting the line and leaving the room in silence.

"Wally..." Dick started slowly as his gaze landed on the trembling Wally.

"I'm so screwed!" The speedster threw a pillow at the bird's face. "Why did you do that?"

"I want to see Roy." Dick caught the pillow midair. "Don't you?" His voice went quiet as he stared silently into the eyes of his best friend.

"You are totally playing the sick card!" Wally snapped, throwing another pillow at Dick. "Get out of my room, I need to prepare for my funeral."

"Actually," the boy threw both pillows back at his friend. "This is my room."

"And it's my house!" Pillows to the face were exchanged as Wally sat up.

"You're going to die soon anyway!" Dick hissed as a pillow hit him viciously in the chest. "There's no way Roy's letting you off!"

"You evil, conniving, sick child!" Wally pointed his finger accusingly at his friend.

"You just started war, dude." The bird narrowed his eyes at the speedster. "You're asking for it!"

"Try me!"

"Don't you dare run away!"

"And don't you use my pillows without paying rent."

Thus this was how Roy arrived to meet the room scattered with feathers, led here my Mrs West who insisted that he should call her mom and his arms full of snacks and a few complimentary new-owner-of-a-mall teddy bears.

"What the hell happened here?" The bag of snacks fell out of the archer's hands in shock, much to the displeasure of Wally.

And there were only two words the pair of friends could use to justify their mess to their eldest brother.

Dick innocently blinked at Roy, and extended the pillow in his hand to the oldest in the room as Mrs West had already left, muttering something about boys being boys as she went to make last minute preparations for dinner.

"Pillow fight?" The sick bird said the words and Wally gasped in horror, Roy's eyes widening in amazement.

"The madness!" Wally screamed from where he was, on the bed with his limbs tied together with the bedsheets.

Roy chuckled evilly and accepted the fluffy weapon of mass destruction. "I accept your invitation."

Dick grinned in pure excitement.

Wally pleaded for mercy, the pillow now a weapon of pain in his eyes.

Roy smirked a dangerous smirk.

And it was like this that the true war officially began, because if blood was feathers then this was World War III.

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Yay!