Chapter Text
If half the rumors about Gotham City were true, it was a bad place to live. If even three of the rumors about its sister city Blüdhaven were true, it was worse. Gotham had its mythical bat guy, hiding in the shadows. He wasn’t real, as far as Wally was concerned. There were no pictures of him, no videos of him fighting taken by civilians or bystanders, not like the Flash in Central City.
Despite the fact that his uncle had told him that he’d worked with the ‘Batman’ before, Wally still found it hard to believe. Sure, he and Wally both possessed the ability to run at thousands of miles per hour, but that was because of a science experiment gone wrong. A man who could melt into shadows or an alien from a distant planet were just a bit far-fetched.
However, Gotham believed they had a protector, someone locking up their criminals each night. Blüdhaven didn’t have that. Therefore, it was the perfect place for Wally to move to. He was getting older, outgrowing the title of Kid Flash. He didn’t need to be helping Barry as much anymore, they’d already even started taking their own missions, but any time someone saw him out fighting, the news the next day would report that the Flash’s sidekick had dealt with something.
Sidekick Kid Flash takes down Weather Wizard!
Flash and his sidekick rescue people on collapsing bridge, none injured.
Central City’s own Flash saves the day after sidekick gets knocked off his feet!
He was getting sick of that word. No matter how many times Barry assured him that they were equals, or that reporters just used a bunch of words to get attention, Wally still found himself feeling less than Barry.
It’s why he’d chosen Blüdhaven as his new home. Nobody protected it, and he needed somewhere to get a fresh start, where nobody would just simply call him a sidekick. It was a long drive, but it was what he needed. He only stopped once along the way, taking his few bags up to his room.
The place was cramped, with just enough space for an air mattress and potentially a small dining table or couch by the window. The walls were a depressing gray, the paint peeling off the drywall, the floors worn and scratched from previous tenants. The scent of seawater and car exhaust from the streets managed to permeate even up to the third floor. It was perfect for a fresh start, in Wally’s eyes. In a dash he unpacked the air mattress and the few pieces of furniture that had fit in the back of his car. The rest should arrive over the next few days, and anything else he needed he could order once he got his accounts updated.
There wasn’t much to do for the rest of the evening, and it was too early to go to sleep, so that meant there was only one thing for him to do. With a few careful breaths he pulled the silver and red suit from the bottom of his bag, running his fingers over the thick yet light fabric. Barry had it custom made after Wally said he was tired of being just a sidekick. He’d been supportive and once Wally put the suit on, he would share the title of Flash with Barry, even halfway across the country. He was still getting used to his opinions being heard, being respected. He wanted to make Barry proud, and he knew exactly how to start.
The police scanner informed of a bank robbery somewhere that Wally was sure wasn’t too far from his apartment. He changed and ran out into the streets, checking the road signs and buildings before eventually spotting a barricade of cruisers and news vans. In the time it took them to blink, Wally was inside. He ripped the guns from the hands of every robber, dragged them to police cruisers and tossed them in the back, and stopped, smoke lifting from the soles of his boots.
“What just happened?!” Someone looked up from behind the counter.
“Where did those men go?”
“Who are you?”
“You’re safe now,” Wally said. “Those guys are with the cops.”
“How did you do that?” Someone from the corner near the door called out. “That was—it was too fast! That’s not possible!”
“Anything’s possible for the Flash. Now, is everyone unharmed?”
The man behind the counter paled. “Oh god, Hank went back there to try and fight those guys off!”
Wally found Hank before his coworker could finish speaking. He was clutching his leg, which was bleeding from a single gunshot. Wally helped him up and let him lean on his shoulder.
“There’s an ambulance outside, sir. Just hold on a bit longer.”
“Who are you? What happened to the robbers?”
“I dealt with them. Hold on tight,” Wally rushed Hank outside and into a paramedic’s arms.
The amount of news crew vans seemed to have doubled, and a crowd of onlookers stretched to the street corner. They were all looking at him. He took a few steps back to make some space, and a hand tapped his shoulder. He spun around to see a woman waving a microphone in his face.
“Who are you?”
“I’m… the Flash.”
It was strange saying that. It was always Barry’s line. Barry’s title. But now it belonged to both of them, because they were equals.
The reporter stepped back a bit, giving a look to the man holding a bulky camera. “Well, I heard that the Flash is Central City’s protector. What brings you to the Haven?”
“Central City’s Flash is actually someone I’ve worked with before,” Wally said after a brief pause. “Seeing as Blüdhaven has no protector, I’ve decided to step in.”
The people who stood around the reporter let out quiet gasps and whispered amongst themselves. The reporter even looked a bit tenser than before, her knuckles white on the microphone. “What about Nightwing? Is he alright with your intrusion?”
“Nightwing? Who’s he?”
More whispers. The reporter cleared her throat and walked away, pushing through the crowd. Wally looked at the city whispering a name he didn’t know, and felt a bit tense himself. He leaned over the barricade the police had set up and waved down one of the onlookers.
“Hey, who’s Nightwing?”
“He’s a vigilante,” The man said. “He… well, he gets the job done.”
Wally was thinking about his next question when his leg started to sting. He looked down to see a thin tear through the leg of his suit and a piece of steel sticking out of the ground. His leg was healed by the time he picked up the metal, giving it a once-over.
“Looks like he’s not too fond of you,” the man said, then he disappeared into the crowd.
It was shaped like an ‘M’, or maybe it was supposed to be a ‘W’, with curved and sharpened edges. The middle—top of the M or bottom of the W whichever way he looked at it—had a trapezoid shape with a piece cut out of it. Wally turned in the direction it had come from, and spotted something—someone—standing in the shadows of the bank’s rooftop.
“Oh my god,” rose up from several people in the crowd. Police officers aimed guns and flashlights, reporters aimed cameras.
Wally raced up the side of the building, placing the metal back in the man’s hand before appearing behind him. He did a double-take and examined his weapon before turning around with one of the most intense glares Wally had ever received.
“Nightwing, I assume?” Wally stood a bit straighter. “I think you dropped your… whatever that is.”
He was about Wally’s height, and thin, but with clearly defined muscle under the black suit—a kevlar and spandex mix, with a blue bird across his chest and wings melting into stripes that reached his fingers. Spandex on the joints for ease of movement, and kevlar almost everywhere else. Hanging from his waist were two metal sticks, about a foot or two long. He placed the metal into a slot on one of his gloves and took one of the two sticks from his waist.
“The Flash, huh?”
“That’s what I said down there.”
A spotlight shone on the rooftop and Wally looked up to see a helicopter circling. Nightwing moved his glare from Wally to the Blüdhaven police.
“Drop your weapons and surrender!” A woman called from above.
Nightwing stepped to stand beside Wally with his head down. The chopping of helicopter blades was loud, but he still heard the message. “Melville Park. One hour.”
He ran to the edge of the building and jumped off. Wally rushed and caught his ankle, pulled him into his arms, and ran down the side of the building into an alleyway.
“Are you alright?”
“Let go of me!”
“I wasn’t going to let you kill yourself!”
Nightwing kicked out of Wally’s grip and lifted his stick up. With the press of a button a line flew out and hooked into the next building. “I think I can manage.”
He pulled on the line and disappeared into the darkness of the rooftops. Wally took a few steps back to see if his shadow was still watching. When he determined that he was alone, he dashed back to his apartment.
…
Dick slid the window closed behind him and pressed the back of his head to the glass. This week could only get worse in one way, and he was thankful that way was the one thing that wouldn’t happen. He closed his curtains and crossed the room, uncapping his water bottle from earlier. Plastic bottles were shit to keep buying as often as he needed them, but the waters in Gotham were untrustworthy every other day, and old habits were hard to kick.
He emptied the bottle and tossed it into his recycling bin. He should have gotten to that bank sooner. That way, the security guard wouldn’t have been shot, and this… ‘Flash’ wouldn’t have gotten a chance to step into his territory. His city.
Blüdhaven was stubborn, not unlike himself as a child. One problem got crushed, more popped up. Two nights ago he’d crashed a drug smuggling operation, and this morning he’d heard whispers about three more. He’d turn his focus to clearing those out, if it weren’t for the serial killer running around out there.
Four victims in two weeks, all died from an electrical shock. The cops jumped quickly to blaming him, and it made his job a hell of a lot harder. He couldn’t find any suspects, couldn’t stop the attacks. They always happened when he was dealing with something else. With the Flash in town, it made things harder instead of easier.
The Flash that lived in Central City was known to work alongside the police. This one might not be any different, and in a few days he could be coming after Dick. The question with that would be how to outrun a man who could get across the country in less than two minutes on foot. Maybe… nope Dick wasn’t even going to follow that train of thought. Wasn’t going to send a text or call or do anything of that sort. He didn’t need help from anyone. Not Batman, not the Flash, not anyone else.
Speaking of the Flash, he had half an hour to cross the city and get to Melville Park. He wasn’t looking forward to this. In fact, he just wanted to jump into bed and pass out for ten hours, but somebody had to tell the Flash that he was unneeded in Blüdhaven, and something told him the cops wouldn’t be able to catch him long enough to do it.
Dick rolled his shoulders and climbed back out the window. He’d go to the meeting, then come right back here for the rest of the night. Or morning. It was nearly three.
He swung in through the north gate of the park and started walking along the path, past budding flower bushes that would fill this place with warm oranges and sweet smells. There was a fountain just a bit ahead, not a bad meeting place, and if things escalated, he could just knock the Flash into the water before he had the chance to move. It wouldn’t grant him an escape, but it could shock him long enough for Dick to slip into the shadows. Watching his reaction would be fun.
Dick watched the water flow down the tiered fountain and twirled one escrima in his hand. A blink of light approached and zipped behind Dick. He rested the escrima on his shoulder and didn’t bother turning around.
“I’ll say this once,” He said. “Get out of Blüdhaven.”
The Flash scoffed. “And why would I do that?”
Dick turned and gave him a toned down version of Batman’s usual glare. The Flash was pacing with his arms crossed and an arrogant smile on his face.
“It’s my city. I’ve been protecting it longer than you have, and I want to keep it that way,” He really hated how much he sounded like Batman right now. “So get out, go back to Central City, and let me handle this. You’re just going to make things a lot harder around here.”
“You don’t own a city.”
The Flash stood a few inches taller than him, with a ripoff of the original Flash’s suit. This one had silver accents instead of the familiar gold, and had a hole cut out of the top to let his hair fall free. Dick rolled his eyes and restrained making a comment about possible head trauma.
“I own it in the way Batman has Gotham and Superman has Metropolis.”
Flash stopped and gave him a flat stare. “Who?”
“Batman. Gotham’s Dark Knight.”
“And the other guy?”
“Superman?”
“Who’s he?”
“Yeah, get out of Blüdhaven.”
Flash threw his arms up and then dropped them at his side. “Come on, you’re one guy. Do you really think you can cover a whole city?”
“Well, I am not sharing it with someone who doesn’t know who Superman is.”
“If I look him up, will you let me do some crime-fighting in Blüdhaven?”
“Depends on how good you are at it.”
The Flash smiled and took a step forward. “I’m good. Are you?”
“I was trained by Batman. I’m good.”
“We’ll see about that.”
The Flash vanished in… well, a flash. Dick hung his escrima back at his side with a sigh. He’d come with intentions to get the guy away from Blüdhaven, and now it seemed like he’d started a competition with him. This would get him a lecture for sure back in Gotham.
He blinked and smiled to himself. This wasn’t Gotham. He hadn’t called that place home for three years, and Batman’s rule about metahumans didn’t quite reach here. Something there to keep out unwanted help, and while the Flash was definitely unwanted, maybe Dick could get used to that.