Disclaimer: We do not own Young Justice or any of it's characters.

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Written by IronicVeghead and TheRantDragon

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Iris had been pestering him for a while about talking to Wally over what happened at the Tower of Fate. The redhead had been acting normal since the event, but he would slip up every once in a while. One of them would catch him in a daze, solemnly staring at nothing in particular, a contemplative look on his face, or Iris might find a book on spells hidden in his room, smuggled from the cave.

It wasn't until after the funeral that Wally seemed willing to talk about what might have shook him, and the blond hero was thankful that the kid had finally decided to open up, otherwise Iris might have locked them in a room together. (Which actually wouldn't be very effective, but once she got something in mind, Barry was well aware Iris would find a way to get something done).

"Hey Kid," Barry smiled, sliding into the kitchen table chair next to his fellow speedster. He'd come prepared with a box of popsicles as a peace offering. Barry opened one of the treats while Wally did the same, trying to not seem too anxious to get a conversation going.

But stealth wasn't really The Flash's thing.

"How are you feeling?" He blurted out, withholding a flinch from the obvious bluntness.

"Uncle Barry, I know you're worried that I've been screwed up because Nelson died on me," Wally spoke as he bit off the end of his popsicle, raising his eyebrows to give his uncle a look."But I get why that happened, that's not what's bothering me."

He sighed, tossing his popsicle stick on the plate Barry had retrieved as a trash collector.

"Do you want to talk about what is?" the hero asked, staring at the colorful pictures of the cool treats on the box, if only to give his eyes something to do that wasn't drilling holes into Wally's head.

Wally was relatively silent as he dug out another popsicle, taking his time to pull the wrapper off and scrunching his nose up in disgust that he'd grabbed a grape flavored one by accident. Still, he bit into it and spoke around a mouthful of ice.

"Magic."

Barry stopped in the middle of chewing, casting a strange glance his nephew's way. The older speedster knew of the things that had taken place on the Tower, and he knew of Klarion the Witchboy's magic, as well as Dr. Fate's. He also knew that Wally had an intense intolerance of things like faith and magic. Silly kid's tales to a man of science such as Wally.

"What about magic? Do you... believe in it?"

"No! I mean... not really, but... ugh, I don't even know anymore," he admitted, laying his uneaten grape pop on the plate to melt. He fished for a more desirable flavor. "I mean, science has always been my go to explanation for things, a-and it does explain things, a lot of things. But..."

"Wally," Barry said gently, putting a hand on the boy's shoulder. "It's okay to admit that there are some things out there you just can't explain."

"But it's not okay!" the redhead retorted hotly. "Everything has an explanation, uncle Barry! All my life I've been able to explain things with simple math and science, and now suddenly I'm just supposed to believe that that's all a lie?"

"Kid, no one said anything about anything being a lie. You just have to learn to think of it a bit differently," he spoke kindly, leaning back into his chair comfortably. "Can science explain what the Martians can do?"

Wally opened his mouth to reply, gaping like a fish, before he shook his head begrudgingly, his eyebrows furrowing together in thought as he reached for his abandoned popsicle in an excuse not to speak.

"Exactly," Barry pointed out. "The Martian's have telepathy because things are different on Mars than they are here. The way their minds work allows them to do things we can't. Take the Altanteans for example!" The blond squeezed his nephew's shoulder excitedly, "We can't breathe underwater, but they can! Because they have the bodies to do so. They work that way."

Barry swore he faintly heard Wally mutter something about evolution under his breath, but there was no way to be sure.

"So..." Wally swung his popsicle stick around as he spoke. "You're saying that magic is a product of another species abilities?"

"Absolutely," The Flash nodded, holding out another frozen treat to the redhead. Wally took it gratefully. "There are other planes of existence out there that are ruled entirely by magic, and sometimes things and people from them make their way to us."

"Like Doctor Fate?" Wally spoke tentatively, as though apprehensive of the subject.

"Very much like Doctor Fate, yes," Barry agreed sagely, glad to see that he seemed to be getting through to the kid. "So you see Wally, you can still rely on science, it explains a lot in our universe. But you also need to recognize that there are things out there, beyond us, that your science isn't applicable to. Just like our earth has science, magic has its own rules to follow as well."

The speedster nodded passively, and Barry knew that the teen didn't yet want to agree out loud. He understood that it would take a while before Wally would be able to fully accept this new way of thinking, but he was making progress at the very least.

Silence fell between them as they polished the box of popsicles off. Wally appeared to be very, very deep in thought for a long time, chewing on the wooden stick left from his last snack.

"Uncle Barry, what's a spitfire?" he blurted out all of a sudden, automatically wiping some blue spit that landed on the kitchen table off with his sleeve.

"A spitfire?" The blond frowned. "Isn't that a plane?"

"But is it a person, too?" The redhead was quick to amend, his words a bit jumbled in his race to get them out without letting them linger in his throat.

"Uh," Barry closed his eyes for a moment as he thought through his memories for an answer; the term was familiar and the definition was on the tip of his tongue... "Oh! A spitfire! Right, right. It's like... a woman who's really loud and outspoken, right? Someone you don't want to get on the bad side of. One of those 'can't be tamed' dames that keeps you on your toes and gets in your face all the time."

Wally looked horrified by his answer and Barry immediately felt sheepish for letting the word 'dames' slip out. "Sorry, Wally. My lingo is a bit outdated, huh?" he chuckled.

"Loud?" The boy croaked, totally oblivious to his uncle. "Gets in your face!"

Wally's hands were flat on the table at this point, his eyes darting around the room wildly as if expecting the type of woman his uncle had just described to come crawling out of the woodwork and attack him.

"Wally," Barry spoke hesitantly. The young speedster looked to be either on the precipice of a great revelation, or a mental breakdown... or both. "You there, bud?"

"He must have been serious..." Wally whispered to himself. "And her... He was talking about her?"

Barry wasn't even sure the kid had realized he had stood up from his chair during his mumblings. The older speedster let his hands hover worriedly around his nephew's shoulders, unsure of what to do to snap him out of it.

"Sure, she's pretty but could-AH!" Wally's hands flew up to cover his mouth, his wide green eyes darting over to stare at his uncle. "I'!"

And just like that, Wally was gone, popsicle wrappers flying around the room uselessly from the gust of wind left in his wake.

Barry scratched curiously at his head before shaking it and picking up the empty box. He was in the process of crushing it and tossing it in the trash when he heard Iris enter through the front door(Wally had left it wide open in his haste the vacate the premises).

"In here, babe," he called to her. She came to the entrance of the kitchen, looking terribly confused and worried.

"I think I saw Wally pass me on the way in... is he alright, Barry?"

Barry smirked.

"Oh, Wally's fine, dear. I think he might have quite the crush, though..." he snickered knowingly, steering his wife back into the living room to let her in on all the fun.