Work Text:
Fingers clutch at his sleeve, and he feels warm breath gently push up against the side of his neck. He smiles vaguely, blissfully. He’s here he’s alive he’s alive, and he’s missed so much and he was so afraid that he wouldn’t have a place anymore, but as soon as he’d first opened his eyes, wanting to weep, missing the bright light of the realm where his very atoms had sung with electric force, blue and green eyes were staring down at him, uncovered and shining. He’d opened his mouth, but was too weak to make a sound and then he was being pulled up into a sitting position and hugged close in a three person embrace; the solidness and physicality of it made his vision finally focus.
He realizes that his name is being murmured, over and over, and he twists slightly to see Dick mouthing his name, just as he had when he’d held Wally in his arms after pulling him out of speed itself. He reaches behind him as best he can and grabs Dick’s hand, gently stroking callouses with his thumb. He settles his head back down onto his pillow, and his breath hitches when he realizes that green eyes are staring steadily at him, moist again.
“He’s the reason you’re here,” Roy says quietly and matter-of-factly. “He was so determined to get you back, Kaldur said he started saying your name in his sleep, over and over, even on missions.”
Wally’s heart clenches, and he suddenly understands why it had been so easy to coax Dick into bed with them. The man hadn’t even protested, just laid down on the other side of the bed, then had clung to Wally’s back in sleep like a monkey—just like he’d done years ago, when they were young and Wally was hellbent on making sure Dick knew that friendly human contact was okay. And that hurts to think about, because to Wally it’s only been a short time since he’d been so angry and scared that Dick was turning into Bruce and moving farther and farther away from being Wally’s best pal, but to Dick it’s been…much longer, and he clings to Wally like his shirt sleeve is a lifeline.
He glances back up at Roy, and doesn’t know what to say other than a feeble, “hey...” as he sees tears wind down the other man’s face. Seeing Roy cry is even stranger than seeing Dick cry, and he reaches out with his free hand; Roy grabs onto it and pushes his face against his fingers and lets out a quiet, shuddering sob. “I’m so sorry, Wally. I’m so sorry and I’m so happy you’re back and I’m never letting you go again,” He gasps out, and Wally doesn’t know how to respond to such an emotional outburst from the man in front of him.
“What are you sorry for?” He whispers.
Roy lets out a minute choking sound. “I was so…the last time we spoke...and I’ve regretted ever since, the fact that the last thing I ever said to you was—” he breaks off, and Wally remembers that conversation on the rooftop like it was a lifetime ago. He starts to speak, but Roy shakes his head against his hand, shivering. “No! No…I have to say this, and I’m sorry that I can’t look at you but…I’m sorry, Wally. I’m sorry I lashed out because I was hurting and I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when it counted, because you were there for me when it counted.” He stops again, and Wally’s hand is wet and warm and solid, something he never thought it’d be again.
He takes a deep breath and pulls his hand away from Roy insistently, making the other man look up. “I forgive you,” he smiles softly around the words, even though he wants to say it’s alright, but that’s not right because it wasn’t, really. And he’s feeling…really proud of Roy, because this may be the first real conversation they’ve ever had, and he knows it sucks and it’s uncomfortable but it’s making him glow with warmth.
Roy’s breath hitches, and his eyes squeeze shut for a moment, and then they snap open and he surges forward and presses his lips against Wally’s, and Wally’s body sings and if he can’t have the nirvana of the beautiful plane he was on, well, this is a perfectly acceptable alternative.