Wally has been aware of Dick's nightmares for some time. He's his best friend—of course he knows. Wally just trusts him enough to get help if he really needs it.
That, and the fact that he's just scared. Dick comes from Gotham—he's been dealing with the scum of the earth since he was nine, after his parents died in front of his eyes. Nightmares are hardly a surprise, even if the break in the 'Robin' image—tough, fearless, always laughing—is disconcerting.
But when he notices Artemis taking after Dick—shoulders slumped, eyes heavy, jumpy and irritable—he knows he has to do something. He'd be the worst boyfriend ever if he brushed off both of his significant others like that.
Not that Artemis or Robin really take offense. They're too proud to come asking Wally for help—he's willing to bet they'd just deny it.
So he's lying in bed, trying to figure out how best to deal with this issue, when his door slides open.
"Wally?" the voice is tentative—nervous, because opening up like this doesn't seem right.
He sits up and makes out Dick's slim silhouette. "Hey," he responds. He's trying not to feel too relieved that it's Dick coming to him. "What is it?"
Wally is surprised for only a moment, because of course Dick wouldn't come to him for his own sake. He nods. "I know."
"You may have been trained by the world's greatest detective, but I have eyes and ears too." Wally slides out of bed and crosses the room to meet Dick at the doorway. The smaller boy is about to head to Artemis' room, but Wally gently takes his wrist.
"It's not just Artie, Dick."
He looks up at Wally, and for a moment the speedster thinks Dick might just deny it. But then there's a barely perceptible nod, and before he can try walking away again Wally pulls him into his arms and squeezes.
He's stiff for a moment, but eventually he lets Wally enfold him in his arms. "You have the best hugs," Dick murmurs against his shoulder, his hands just this side of clutching his shoulders.
Wally smiles and squeezes. "I know."
Dick pulls away, but Wally carefully entwines their hands. They move down the hallway in silence, coming to Artemis' door.
Wally sees Dick hesitate, and he feels a flash of empathy (because he knows what that's like). But with Dick's admission, he feels stronger—he can help them.
"She's from Gotham," Dick suddenly says. On the surface, the information is irrelevant, but suddenly things make a little more sense.
Wally nods. "Then you can help her, too."
When Dick's shoulders straighten just a little, he knows it was the right thing to say. Dick opens the door and moves forward into the darkness of Artemis' room, Wally just behind him as the door closes.
The sounds of rustling sheets and harsh breathing tell them all they need to know. Dick squeezes Wally's hand once before letting go to slide onto the bed next to Artemis.
In the dim light, with his eyes beginning to adjust now, he sees Dick's hand go to her shoulder. In an instant she's bolt upright, clutching Dick's arm, in a position to strike. Her breathing comes fast and heavy, and Wally can just make out the whites of her wide eyes.
"Dick?" she asks, breathless to the point it's almost a whisper.
Wordlessly, Dick pulls her forward into his arms. "It's okay, Artemis," he murmurs. "I know."
There's only a moment before Artemis folds herself into his arms, letting him rub her back and kiss the crown of her head as she shakes.
It's then that Wally realizes that this is perhaps something he'll never quite understand. Living in Gotham and dealing with everything it threw at you, on top of everything you've grown up with—it's something Wally's never been truly exposed to.
But it doesn't mean he won't try to help them as best he can. He joins them on the bed, on Artemis' other side, wrapping an arm around her waist and resting his head on her shoulder.
"We're here, Artie," he murmurs, running his hand through her hair.
There's a sob torn from her throat, and Wally feels Dick tighten his hold on her, his own eyes beginning to shine with moisture in the darkness.
Wally's never felt quite so helpless. These two wonderful people, the ones he would give anything for—they're coming undone, and there's nothing he can do but hold on tight and refuse to let go.
(It takes every persuasive method they have to convince Wally that it's all they'll ever need. )
Of all the times to make observations and conclusions, most people don't expect it to be the dead of the night.
As it is, Conner has super hearing and a few members of the team have chronic nightmares. Thrashing and moaning aren't exactly sounds to put on a soothing noisemaker.
What's scary, though, are the times they'll wake up crying. Because it's Robin and Artemis, and they're supposed to be the tough ones. They don't flinch, they don't break, and they certainly don't shed tears.
And yet, there will be those nights their sobs will drag him from his sleep.
Truthfully, he's surprised M'gann doesn't pick up on it through the mental link—the team has been doing it for so long it's almost a constant thing by now—but she never says a word. And he knows she would mention something about their friends being upset.
It's a few weeks later that he notices the nightmares have stopped—if the silence is anything to go by, at least.
A few nights after that, he manages to notice that there's not a peep coming from the room across the hall or the room to his right—Artemis and Robin, respectively. Not a rustle of sheets or the hint of breathing.
The room to his left, however—the one that belongs to Wally—has gained extra noise. Noise that's unusual for even the speedster, who has a tendency to snore and move in a way that most nights Conner thinks will wake the entire mountain.
There's murmurs and sighs and sometimes more muted sobbing, but in the end it's always quiet.
And when Artemis and Robin's eyes start to lose the dark circles, and their smiles come easier, he thinks he might understand.