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Wally sighed for what felt like the millionth time, as he carefully pulled out more damaged feathers from Dick's wings. The feathers of his blue grey peregrine wings were either broken, twisting in on themselves, or burnt beyond saving.
His wings weren't the only thing broken. His right leg was in a cast, his left arm was wrapped in burn-salve soaked bandages from shoulder to finger tips. His wrist and hand of that arm were in a splint. His head and chest were wrapped, and Wally could see a few of the burns that covered his partner's body, peeking out at the edges.
He pulled out a damaged feather and winced in sympathy, his own molten brown wings twitching, as Dick's whole body shuddered.
Freckled fingers ghosted over scarred golden skin, offering what comfort he could. Knowing he'd be causing Dick pain for the next while, as he finished pulling out the damaged feathers.
As he placed the feather on the pile with the others, his fingers shook. Vision blurring slightly as he brought them back to Dick's back. He brought his other hand up, wiping the tears away before they could fall. He doesn't know if they're from worry, fear, or anger. Or a debilitating mix of all three.
"Why. Why'd you do it Dickie?"
His wings were tight to his back, ruffled in his agitation, and he forced himself to take a breath. Once he was calmer, he went back to straightening out the feathers. Carefully preening what was left of Dick's wings back into place. Once finished he gathered up the removed feathers, dumping them in a bin on the way to the kitchen.
He returned a short time later with a cloth, and a bowl of warm water, green eyes darkening in grief as he stared at the burnt and broken wings.
He could still feel the flames, the heat, smell the burning of flesh and feathers. Remembered watching as Dick fell, his grip on his grapple failing as he lost consciousness.
It would be a year before Dick flew again. Longer if he didn't take the time to heal. Several months of rehab before he could walk. Not to mention the scarring from the burns.
He might never be able to be Nightwing again.
Bruce was already coming up with a cover story for his injuries. Claiming a car wreck, if he remembers right.
Cass was flying back in from Hong Kong with Tim. Jason and Steph were already looking for a car that could be used to make the story believeable.
He feels anger replacing the grief again, and he has to take several, slow, deep breaths to calm himself. He only stops when he sees dark blue eyes, hazy with pain meds and sleep, staring at him from across the room.
Wally took another breath, hand tightening spasmodicly around the cloth as he approached the bed, setting the bowl of water down as he passed the side table.
He brushed sweat damp hair out of Dick's face as he sat on the bed. "Hey."
Dick offered him a small, crooked smile. "Hey back."
Wally began to ask him a question, but the words won't come. Asking how he feels would be hollow. He knows how his partner feels. He closes his mouth and stares off to the far corner of the room, fingers still caressing Dick's hair, but not looking at him.
He can't.
Now that Dick's awake. Now that he knows he can wake up, the anger is back. Dick isn't up for a fight, not emotionally, or physically. It's not what he needs right now.
But trust Dick Grayson to not know when to keep his mouth shut.
"Wally? Baby what's, what's wrong."
He tries to push himself up so he can roll over, but Wally pushes gently on the small of his back to keep him down.
"Don't. Just don't Dick. Stay down and get some more rest." He knows his voice with tight with emotion, he hoped Dick would just think it was worry, and not anger that he can feel churning in his gut.
Wally reached back for the bowl of water, setting it at his feet, watching as Dick flopped back onto the mattress, strength going out of his one good arm.
"Wally, what's wrong?" Wally could see the confusion in blue eyes, as Dick looked at him. He dipped the cloth in the bowl, before ringing it out, beginning to wash the ash, and damaged bit of feathers from Dick's wings.
Wally sat in silence as he moved the cloth over damaged feathers. He could feel the muscles in Dick's back twitching as he lay there, waiting for Wally to say something.
"You...you were hurt, Dick. Very badly. You just...shouldn't be trying to get up yet, that's all. Rest."
Dick shook his head, wings bristling, before he stilled them, biting back a wince. "Not, not what I meant. You're angry."
Wally's wings flared up and back, riding high and tight to his shoulders. He exhaled, loud and long, forcing his wings into a more neutral position. Not for the first time did he curse how perceptive Dick was. He leaned over the bed, letting the cloth drop back into the bowl. "It's nothing that can't wait. Get some more rest. We'll talk about it later."
"Wally."
"I really don't want to do this now, Dick. "
Dick growled, pushing his good arm underneath himself, and shoving himself up into a sitting position.
Wally hovered around the edges, hands automatically moving to support, making sure Dick didn't fall.
"No, because you won't want to talk about it later, either." He was panting by the time he managed to right himself. Dark skin pallid and he looked like he might be sick at any moment.
"Dick..."
"Just spit it out, West!"
"Fine!" Wally pushed up from the bed, wings flaring out widely, pin feathers ruffling up. "Fine, I'll spit it out. Why? Why in God's name did you take that hit for me?"
"Because you didn't see it coming?" Dick said it as if it was the most obvious answer in the world, a startled look on his face.
"I'm the fastest man alive, Dick! You could have shouted at me. Told me to move, duck, something!"
"I didn't think about that...I just-"
"Obviously." Wally spun on his heel, turning to face away from Dick. So he missed his wince, how his shoulders curved in, shrinking in on himself. "What were you thinking exactly?"
"What do you mean? I would think that that would be obvious?"
"Well apparently not, otherwise we wouldn't be having this conversation.
"What did you think I wouldn't be fast enough? Not good enough to get out of the way?"
"What? Wally no, I've never thought that of you. Not once."
"Then what was it Dick?"
"I was...you..."
"Spit it out, Grayson!" Wally threw Dick's own words back at him.
"Dammit Wally. I was trying to save you!"
"I don't need saving Grayson."
"I know that!" Dick's voice cracks loudly in the quiet room.
Wally drops back onto the foot of the bed. Wings drooping.
"I know that, Wal. I just, I reacted." He ran his uninjured hand through his hair, refusing to meet Wally's eyes. "I saw that stream of fire heading for you, and-and I reacted. Without thinking."
"Dick-"
"No. Let, let me finish." Dick still wasn't looking at him, and Wally was starting to worry. "I know you don't need saving. You're one of the most capable people I know. That's not why I did it."
"Then why, Dick?"
"I...I couldn't lose someone else close to me." Dicks hands curled into fists, biting into bandages and skin. "I've lost so many people, Wally. My parents, my first family, Jason, Bruce, D-Damian."
Wally reached forward then, one hand wrapping around Dick's closest fist. Damian's death was still a raw, open wound, festering and bloody.
"I couldn't, I can't lose anyone else. I couldn't, I can't lose you. "
Wally shifted closer, until he could wrap a careful arm around Dick's shoulder's.
Dick curled into Wally, tucking his head under his chin, right arm reaching up and gripping at Wally's shirt. Dick's shoulder's started to shake.
"Pretty Bird, hey, hey now." Wally pressed a careful kiss to Dick's bandaged temple. "You wouldn't of lost me. You know that, right?"
Dick nodded into Wally's chest, his fingers tightening into the fabric of Wally's shirt, his breath hitching as he tried to swallow back his sobs. Wings twitching with the need to wrap around himself, to hide, but all he gets is a flash of pain for his efforts.
Wally ran a gentle hand between Dick's shoulder blades, easing the ache the only way he could.
"Good. Do you know why I was angry with you?"
Dick's laugh was wet with tears, "Because I'm an idiot?"
"No, I've gotten used to that." Wally smiled softly against Dick's hair. "No, baby, I was mad because I almost lost you."
"Oh,"
"Yes, oh. You scared the absolute shit outta me. You can't lose me, but what do you think it'd do to me, if I lost you." Wally tightened his arm around Dick's shoulder, pulling him tighter to his chest.
He brought his left hand up tapping the gold band that hung on the chain around Dick's neck, matching one on his left.
"We promised, the day we gave each other these rings. 'Til death do us part, by natural means. No supervillains, no magic, no deathray's'. Remember?"
Dick nodded, still pressed tight to Wally's chest, voice muffled and soft. "Yeah, I remember."
"Good. That promise also included death by our own stupidity. Right?"
"Right."
"Okay. So here's what we're gonna do." Wally raises his wings, curling them around himself and Dick, cacooning them both in soft molten brown feathers. "You're going to take your meds, do what the doctors tell you, and let yourself heal." He rocks his husband gently, back and forth, swaying with the motion of their breathing. "And when the doc's release you, you're going to come home, and let me take care of you like a good husband is supposed to. Think you can do that for me?"
Wally feels Dick smile agaisnt his chest, moving himself slowly, being careful of his damaged wings. He shifts until he can press his mouth to Wally's throat, laying a gentle kiss there, talking against his skin. The words soft, but hopeful. "Yeah, yeah I think I can do that."
Wally knows that this conversation isn't over, but it's a start. There's still a long road to recovery, both physically and emotionally. They've made it through one "death" a piece so far, they'll make it through this too.