Message Failed to Send // Book Five

» Chapter 5

---- From chapter 38, Text Me Back ----

W: Okay so James, Hartley, and I went to the convenience store and as we were walking we passed a flyer for catholic school and James went "Wally you better shape up or we're sending you to catholic school" and without looking up from his phone Hartley goes "scared straight" and James and I laughed so hard we tripped over each other and fell into a puddle

----

Barry ruffled Wally's hair one last time before picking up his suitcase and carrying it to the waiting car in the drive way. Iris leaned down to peck him on the cheek, her long red hair tickling his skin, before she too dragged her suitcase to the car. Wally followed her a step behind, catching up to her easily and taking the heavy bag from her, handing it off to Barry to pack into the trunk.

"Thanks, Wally," Iris said, her light voice as melodic and motherly as ever, as she slid into the drivers seat of the car.

"Behave, and don't forget to water the plants," Barry told him for probably the hundredth time, then "and, don't do anything too dangerous. Stick to bank robberies and muggings, okay? Leave the super-villains till I get back."

Wally huffed, rolling his eyes and hurrying the man into the car, mumbling, "yeah, yeah- I know," and just like that Barry and Iris departed for their trip to Coast City.

Wally stood in the driveway for a long minute, feeling the sun wash over and warm his skin, and the soft autumn air ruffle his hair. The sun was still high in the sky, but everything was cast in a soft golden glow, as if it were early evening. It had rained all through the night, and he could tell from the smell of the air alone that it was going to rain again, despite the current lack of clouds.

It could have been that he had been spending so much time in Gotham, but the Central City sun seemed even more perfect than usual. Wally gave a little sigh of pleasure, the sun doing nothing short of melting the tension out of his shoulders in a way that could otherwise only be achieved by one of Dick's long massages.

The twenty-year-old's phone rang three times before he really registered the sound, and he reached for it in his pocket only to remember he'd left it on the coffee table inside. He dashed inside- at a normal, human speed- through the still-open red front door, answering the call at the last ring.

He didn't have time to read the caller ID, and there was a moment where he wondered if it was Barry calling to remind him of something else he already knew he had to do while house-sitting, and decided he would hang-up if it was.

It wasn't, and he realized that the second he heard the voice on the other end, talking before Wally could even say hello, "Hiya, you've reached the house of unrecognized talent, how can I help you?"

He rolled his eyes at James's antics, pointing out, "you called me," with a little huff of laughter.

"I know, but I've always wanted to say that," James said easily, as if it were obvious.

Wally was about to ask what the nineteen-year-old wanted, when a few soft notes cackled through the connection. James went silent too, both of them listening to the distant melody of Hartley's flute, drifting from where he'd holed himself up in the Rouges base.

Wally moved quietly on his end, closing the front door and wandering into the kitchen, filling up a glass with water and taking a short sip before lightly tipping the glass into one of the small plants set on the windowsill. The music grew a little louder, and Wally smiled at the image of James searching every nook and cranny to find his boyfriends hiding spot.

Wally considered heading over to the Rouges base, but had a feeling the couple was planning on inviting him out anyway. They did that every few days. He figured they were concerned about him, which was justified, considering his unrequited feelings for Dick were tearing him apart inside, but he didn't like making his friends worry. Not about something he should be over by now.