Dick is tired.

It's been a long day and he's exhausted; so, so ready to head back to Gotham and curl up in his bed and sleep until noon.

That is, until he hears the sobbing.

It's coming from the fourth room down the hall, Wally's. Dick approaches it with almost tentative steps, slowly tapping his knuckles against the wood and tracing his fingers over the tiny lightning bolt emblem that decorates the door.

When there's nothing but a strangled sort of sob in reply, he tilts his head against the frame. "Wally?" he says in a soft, quiet voice.

"I'm all good, Dick," comes the muffled reply, but it sounds as though he's choking something down. "I was just watching this really depressing movie, you know? Those sob stories really get to me."

He almost chuckles at his best friend's pitiful excuse, but instead finding himself frowning as he twists the knob. The door's locked. "C'mon, Walls, open up."

"No."

Dick sighs loudly and simply pulls a paperclip from his pocket, jamming it into the lock and wriggling it until he hears the soft click. Nudging his way into the room, he nearly does a double take.

Wally's head is buried in his hands, white fingers and bruised knuckles clenched over his red hair. The covers are torn away from the bed and lay in a heap; in the other corner, there's a few broken science trophies and a mess of scattered papers. The speedster is shaking; his shoulders wrack with sobs as the heels of his palm press against his eyes, trying hastily to rub the tears away. "That's cheating, Dick," he mumbles, and a wave of worry surges through the ebony-haired boy as the redhead tries desperately to hide his face.

"Wally...Wally." Dick kneels on the floor beside the bed, slowly pulling his best friend's hands away from his bloodshot eyes.

They focus hazily and the freckled boy bites his lip, blowing out air. "I was hoping everyone had left already," he sighs. "Shit, Dick, you weren't supposed to see me like this." He says it with a half-hearted ghost of a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes.

"What's wrong?" It comes out as less of a question, more of a demand, because he needs to know why Wally is so upset and he needs to make it better.

Wally's shoulders lift in a shrug. "Nothing. I'm okay."

I'm okay. As open as the young speedster seems, at the first hint of vulnerability, his walls come up, always accompanied by the same two words-I'm okay. But Dick wouldn't have to be a detective, or even his best friend, to know that Wally is definitely not okay right now.

"No, you're not," he presses. "I know you're not okay, I know something's wrong and you're my best bud, you're supposed to tell me this type of-"

"Do you hate me?"

Dick blinks, startled. "What?"

Wally's adam's apple bobs in his throat as he swallows. "Do you hate me?" he says again, more urgently, and for a moment, there's something like fear that flickers across his face.

"Walls, why would you even ask something like that? Why would I hate you?"

"I ca-" Wally chokes on the words and stares at his hands, eyes shining with droplets that he's desperately trying to keep from falling. "I can't do anything right," he manages. "I screw up everything I touch, I'm not a good hero, I'm not a good teammate, I'm not..." Wally screws his eyes shut, trembling as fresh tears trail their way down his cheeks. "I'm so fucking useless."

Dick clenches his fists together. Wally, with his knees drawn up to his chest and his shaking breaths, looks so, so small, and Dick can't help but notice everything; the darkened bruise on the redhead's pale cheekbones, the way he's shying away from his touch, and how broken he seems.

He pulls himself onto the bed next to Wally, crossing his legs and tugging at his clothes. "You told me that it stopped," he says after a long time. "Wally, you said he stopped. You lied to me."

The speedster's jaw tightens and he brushes at his eyes. "You would've told Bats. And then..." he wrings his hands together. "Dad's just going through some rough time, okay? He'll get better."

"That's what you said four months ago."

"Dick, I'm-"

"Don't you dare say that you're okay, Wallace Rudolph West," Dick snaps, and he barely has time to catch Wally's flinch. But it's there, and guilt floods Dick immediately. He exhales and softens his tone, hesitating. "How bad is it?"

Wally's eyes flit away, but the boy wonder takes his hands, rubbing his fingers over the black and blue knuckles. Wally takes a deep, shuddering breath, and when their eyes finally meet, terror is etched in every crevice of his expression.

"I thought...I thought he was gonna kill me," he breathes. "I thought I was gonna bleed out right there at the bottom of the stairs, I was-I was so scared that I was gonna die, Dick, and that...no one would miss me."

"Oh, Wally." Dick burrows his head into Wally's chest, fully aware that he's soaking the speedster's thin Star Trek t-shirt with his tears and not really caring. "I'd miss you, okay? I'd miss you so much that I'd forget how to breathe. If you died, Wally, I'd...I wouldn't want to live anymore. I can't lose you. I need you."

Dick hasn't needed anyone since the high wires snapped in that circus five years ago, but every fiber of his being says that he needs this, he needs his fiery hair and his green eyes and his perfect grin, he needs his laugh and his jokes and his hands and he needs Wally.

"You can't go back there," he says when the silence has taken its time, his voice muted by Wally's chest.

"My mom..."

"We'll figure something out for your mom," Dick assures him. "But I won't let you go back there. You can stay here, or the Manor, or wherever, until then, but promise me you won't go back."

"Dick-"

"I'm serious, Wally. Promise."

The redhead frowns, pursing his lips. "I-I promise," he says finally.

Dick nods, satisfied, and runs his hands through Wally's hair, raising his head so that their foreheads touch. "Do you want me to-"

He doesn't even have to finish his sentence before Wally nods. "Please. Stay."

They retrieve the comforters, clamber into the bed and curl up next to each other, like they used to do when they were smaller and things were simpler, with his head in the crook of Wally's neck and their arms tangled around each other.

Dick mumbles it, barely loud enough for the speedster to hear. "I love you, Wally."

"I love you too, Dick."

And for the first time in months, he falls into a peaceful sleep.