runningstart | MASK OR MENACE IC INBOX

MASK OR MENACE IC INBOX

WALLY WEST
"You've reached the personal voice mail of the Wall-man. The honor is yours! Leave your deets, I'll holla back atcha."
[ BEEP. ]

KID FLASH
"This is the contact for Kid Flash. If it's an emergency, call Robin; he'll know where I am. Otherwise, leave your info and I'll get you back ASAP."
[ BEEP. ]

[ voice | text | email | action ]

( Please specify in tag subject line if the contact is for Wally West or Kid Flash! )

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[ It's an awkward position, but somehow comfortable anyway. He rests his cheek against Wally's hair. ]

It does. But dude, you're allowed to be a little selfish about this. I mean... have you considered that maybe part of the reason things got this bad is because you're holding so much of it in? You're spending so much time trying to take care of other people, hiding things because you're worrying about their reaction, that you're not letting yourself process anything.

What the heck am I supposed to process? [Wally asks in exasperation, throwing his hands up before clapping them back down.] If you’re talking about the five stages of grief then you can save it. I am not going to counseling for my future death.

It'd be one thing if you were ignoring it, Wally, or saying "if it happens, it happens." But you're obviously thinking about it.

[ He waves one hand down at the notebook. ]

Obviously trying to think of ways to stop it, dude. What else can I do about this? My only other choices are to either have a nervous breakdown or roll over and accept it. [He's bad at that second one. Though the first option is starting to sound appealing.]

I'm not saying you shouldn't try to stop it. Please, dude, do try to stop it. But the way you're doing things— I mean, I didn't even know it had gotten this bad, because you're so good at not showing fear or weakness or anything.

[gonna shoot for levity!!!] Thank you, I do try my darnedest.

Yeah, yeah, you're very hardcore. [ Eyeroll. ] But you know what I mean.

You know what's weird? We throw ourselves into danger every day like it's nothing. We all know any mission we go on could be our last. But Bart saying that this happened in his timeline messed everything up this bad.

Knowing about it is worse, I guess. [There's something really painfully raw about discussing this so openly, but in a good way. Like flushing out an infected wound.] Then you get time to think. Survival instincts have a chance to kick in.

[ It's hard for Dick, too, but part of him, even now, is thinking about it abstractly. Like a puzzle to be solved, rather than his best friend looking down the barrel of a gun. ]

I can't imagine.

[ It's true; he's tried and tried to put himself in Wally's shoes, wondering how it would feel if it was him. If someone told him he had five years. Maybe he doesn't have the imagination for it. It's strange, though — he wants things for his best friend that he can't even conceptualize for himself. A family. Kids. A college degree. Dick certainly doesn't have a death wish, but it feels so much more inherently unfair for something like this to happen to Wally. ]

I don't believe that it's final. I can't. We have tons of resources at our disposal, right? And time, and knowledge... most people don't get anything even close to that. [ He squeezes Wally's shoulder. ] But... dude, I'm worried about you. Now-you. It's eating you up, I can tell. It's like you're trying so hard to prevent this from happening in the future that you're wrecking your present.

[Wally heaves a sigh through his nose, but that he's not just running his mouth immediately at least means he's thinking about it. He is, he really is. And he gets what Dick is trying to say; no matter how urgent the issue, wrecking himself now isn't going to help. The brain operates in a diminished capacity when low on sleep, when stressed out and hungry and etc etc. He knows that. Basic biology.]

You know I threw up? A few days ago.

What? What happened?

I dunno, man. I was eating, and then I started freaking out and then I just kind of. Puked, right there in the kitchen trash. It was gross.

...I haven't thrown up in years.

Dude...

[ Dick finally untangles himself from the hug, sliding around to sit as best he can on the arm of Wally's chair. He leaves one arm draped over Wally's shoulders as he looks down at him. ]

Kind of sounds like you had a panic attack. That's normal. Especially given the circumstances.

[Wally leans over to make room.] Yeah, I guess it was. [He's all calm about it now. Or maybe he's just tired.] Anyway. Point is, I get what you're saying. This...isn't gonna work out forever.

Yeah... no one can sustain that kind of tension forever. You'll burn up.

... I miss seeing you happy, that's all. It seems like half of you is always somewhere else lately. And it's weird. I mean, you always threw yourself completely into everything you did. That's part of what drew me to you when we first met — you know, a million years ago.

Ah geez, Rob, don't. [Wally turns his face away, scrubbing a hand through his hair. Robin is right, of course; Wally's schoolwork and research has been suffering because of the lack of sleep and his inability to pay attention. He even had his science teacher hold him after class to ask if everything was all right at home.]

[ Dick lifts a hand to his own hair, mirroring Wally's gesture. He squeezes his friend's shoulder with his other hand. ]

No, dude, I think you need to hear this. I've known you longer than anyone here.

[Wally scrubs at his face until his cheeks are red.]

Okay...yeah, fine, okay. I know what you're saying, I get it. So what should I do about this? If I can't fix this problem right away, what can I do?

Until we can figure this out? I don't know, dude... try and find the stuff that makes life worth living again.

[Right. The stuff that makes it worth living. Just trying to fight off your own death isn't enough; otherwise, people wouldn't be able to get old and pass away peacefully, right?]

...like endless breadsticks. And Beyonce.

[ Dick can't help a little laugh, the corner of his mouth quirking up as he huffs. ]

Yeah! And making our roombas knife fight, and videos of dogs falling off couches. And you and me dressing up as a centaur for Halloween.

Okay for the last time dude I am not gonna be the butt. You're the butt.

I'll agree to a 50-50 butt custody arrangement, but it's a one-time offer.

I'll rock-paper-scissors you for butt duty. [haha butt doodie]

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performance - 2016-03-01 03:03 (UTC) - Expand

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