THE JUST// Young Justice & DC One Shots | Young Justice x Reader {Completed}

Nightwing x Kid Flash Fluff

Requested by @AnimeOTPSBruh

"Silently Falling"

Warnings: Strong suicidal themes, strong language, suggestive material

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Nightwing sat on his bed, head in his hands, staring at the floor.

A million thoughts ran through his head.

One mistake.

One god damn mistake.

All he'd done was take a double cross mission a little too seriously, and suddenly they all believe he's the bad guy.

Why couldn't they just give him a break?

No. I can't break again. I promised Jason.

Nightwing groaned, and his head pounded.

He slipped into a deep sleep.

-Flashback/ Dream-

Nightwing stood on the rooftop of his penthouse, a knife clutched in his hands.

"Please get here soon, Jason!" He whispered into the darkness.

Jason appeared about five minutes later, rushed, and out of breath.

"Are you okay?" He blurted, staring at the knife in Nightwing's hand.

"I don't know!" Nightwing said, clutching the knife. "No one cares anymore."

"I care! That's why I'm sorry I have to do this," Jason said, pulling out a tranquilizer dart.

He shot it, and Nightwing felt his head turn numb.

He heard Jason say one thing before he black out, and it was, "Please get better, big brother."

Nightwing woke up some time later, in a familiar bed.

"Don't try to protest. It's me," said Jason.

"Please don't tell anyone else!" Nightwing said, tears dropping down his face.

"As long as you promise you'll never break again," Jason said, sternly.

"I promise," Nightwing replied.

-End Flashback-

Dick sat up with a jolt.

He rubbed his eyes, and stared bleary-eyed at his alarm clock.

Shit.

Glaring at the blinking red numbers told Dick that he was twenty minutes late for his 8 o'clock work shift at the coffee shop.

He sighed. Pulling on a faded sweater and jeans suited for the chilly late fall weather, he jumped into his car.

As Dick walked into "Thanks a Latte", his coworker Stacy yelled, "It's about time Dick!"

Dick groaned, and got to work on the orders.

When his phone beeped with a message from Wally, Dick pulled it out while balancing an order on his other arm.

Hey Dick. I heard that you weren't feeling great. Wanna talk? Just call whenever. -Wally

Dick sent back a reply, and wrapped up his shift.

When Dick reached his flat, he immediately called Wally.

"Wally?"

"Hey. What's up?"

"You know how we did the double cross mission a few weeks ago?"

"Yeah. It was pretty intense."

"Bruce's mad at me because he thinks I was being for real."

"Just call him. Talk it out, maybe you can explain it was just for a mission."

"Thanks Wally. I will. See you later?" Dick hung up, and dialed Bruce.

"Dick?"

"Hey, Dad. Can I talk to you?"

"Look, I thought I'd made it clear that you needed to sort things out and calm down before we talked about your mission last month."

"I am calm!" Dick was shouting now.

"Seems to me you're not." Bruce's nonchalant voice seemed to anger Dick even more.

"Why don't you care?" Dick whispered.

"Because you're a disgrace to this world. And I don't want to talk to someone who's incompetent of forming actual sentences," Bruce snapped. He hung up the phone.

Dick stared at the phone. He slammed it into his coffee table, not caring when pieces of glass stuck to his palm.

He stumbled to his bathroom, his vision blurry with unshed tears.

Tearing open the cabinet, Dick opened his drawer to pull out painkillers.

He wrenched open the cap, and poured them into his palm.

Heart pounding, Dick shoved them into his mouth and gulped down water from the sink.

He staggered back into the living room and grabbed the shattered phone of the coffee table.

Dialing Wally, he clutched his stomach as cheap ibuprofen hit his system.

"Dick? Are you okay?" Wally cheerful voice sounded concerned.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry I wasn't perfect. I'm sorry I was a horrible friend.  You won't have to worry about me anymore. I-i am sorry for even being a burden in the first place," Dick's voice was slurred, and Wally began to panic.

"Dick, wait-" Wally's voice was cut off sharply as Dick hung up the call.

Dick stumbled into the kitchen, wrenching open cabinets.

He found a sharp knife, that gleamed in the fluorescent bulbs of the kitchen.

Slumping down, Dick's head began to fog.

As Dick began to slit his wrists, Wally was on his way.

To Wally, Dick was now more than a friend.

When Dick had called with a slurred voice, Wally panicked.

As Wally threw open the door, Dick had just cut his major wrist artery.

Wally sped around the house faster than ever, fixing and bandaging Dick.

Wally sat.

And waited.

Watched.

And cried.

Tears of joy when Dick opened his eyes at midnight.

Tears of fear when it had been three hours since Dick had moved.

Tears of guilt that Wally hadn't seen the warning signs of depression.

When Dick finally stirred, he saw Wally staring into his eyes.

"Hey," Dick croaked out. "Don't cry."

Dick wiped the tears off Wally's face.

Wally darted forwards, and quickly pressed his lips to Dick's.

Wally turned away, blushing.

"Why did you stop?" Dick asked, leaned up to kiss Wally.

"I'm sorry too. That I couldn't help you until it was almost too late. And I think that you're more than a friend to me. But I stopped because I didn't know if you like that or not." Wally blurted.

"I like it."

And that's all Wally needed to hear.

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