#batreply

"I heard the cry of your soul buried beneath the mountains of documents you have here, so I forged a path through which I could come to your rescue." -Basically, he was bored, and he walked through the door.

“Sometimes, I have to wonder why I continue to put up with you.” Bruce walked around the other man spread across his desk, and took a seat at the chair, before shifting some of the papers to the side. 

a letter for when you feel: angry at the world 

Wally,

I don’t know what happened, but it must be pretty bad for you to be feeling this way. I’m sorry I can’t be there, though I suppose I’d factor into some of the reasoning behind that anger - in hindsight. 

So, you’re angry. And, not at yourself, but at the world. At everyone around you. Even those, who likely, are trying to reach out to you. But you don’t see that, because in your anger, you’re likely seeing all the reasons why and how you’re the one being pushed away. 

And so, you’re pushing them all away. Which, naturally, in that situation - is the only viable option. Wally, you’ve always been so good to those around you, open and gentle and patient, and for this kind of anger to simmer and grow, to hit this point - where you’re upset at anyone but yourself...it must be bad. 

Though, I suppose it’s far more healthy than internalizing it and taking on what you can’t handle and beating yourself up because the only person you can be upset with is yourself. Strange. Almost paradoxical. 

If you are upset at anyone other than yourself, it’s likely valid. Be angry. Let yourself be angry. You’re allowed to be angry, and you should not feel guilty for being angry, or let anyone take that away from you. But don’t isolate yourself. Be angry and present. Let those around you know you’re upset. Let them know. 

And watch, Wally, as they don’t leave you, not the way you expect them to. Watch as they work together to soothe you, to ease your anger, to apologize, and to remind you that you are never alone. Because even when you feel as you are, when everything is unfair and you hate it all - you’re not alone. So, be angry Wally. But please, don’t distance yourself.

You need others. And it took me too long of a time to realize that myself. 

Bruce groaned and ran a hand over his face. 

a letter for when you feel: not okay

Dear Cassandra, 

You’re one of the strongest people I’ve ever come across. But, by no means, does that require you to always be strong. If you’re not feeling well right now, the first thing you have to do is not berate yourself for not feeling okay. Stop. No one expects that from you - at least, no one other than yourself. 

It’s okay to feel not okay. It’s okay to let it weigh on you and disorient you and make you feel unsettled, whatever is going on right now. Your first step is to not feel guilty for not being able to simply push past it, or solve it. 

Second, even if you don’t feel fine right now, you will. Maybe not soon, and maybe not for a long time, but eventually. And what’s the point of waiting for eventually? Because I’ve been told that it’s worth it. And meeting you, having you in my life, meeting the members of my family and watching my family grow - I can ascertain that, yes, pushing past the hard times is worth it. Worth it in ways that words can’t express. 

You’re strong, and you’re going to be okay - but that doesn’t require you to always be okay. Let yourself break down, if necessary. That way, when you build yourself back up - you’ll know parts of yourself that you’ve never allowed yourself to meet before, and you’ll begin the path to becoming more and more complete within yourself. 

a letter for when you feel: angry at yourself

Jason,

You’re upset with yourself, and probably with good reason. You’ve likely gone and done something reckless, and you can barely sit still, let alone think straight. You’re angry, and I know there’s no seeing reason with you when you’re angry, so I won’t attempt to reason it out with you. 

I will tell you this: You’re still good. You will always be good. Jason, you are raw and reckless and something akin to a hurricane, but you are still good. And I know what you’re saying, hell, I can hear it, “You don’t know what I did, B.” You’re right. I don’t. 

You’re still good. Do not let your anger take over. I’ve told you once, and I”ll tell you again, and again, channel your anger. Take that anger and use it for good, the good that is in you, the good that will always be within you. Do not let your anger define you, or your actions.

You’re still good. Being angry at yourself won’t do anything to challenge or change that. You made a mistake, or you’ve hurt someone you had no intention to hurt - or, perhaps, you hurt someone you did intend on hurting, regardless - it’s not as overwhelming and consuming as it feels. And, more than that, it’s not over. It’s not all over. 

It may be your fault, but it may also not entirely be your fault. Regardless, it doesn’t change the fact that you’ve always lacked in the department of being kind to yourself. I suppose I wasn’t the ideal role model in that regards.  

Hey, at the very least, channel that anger away from yourself, and towards me. Hell, if I’d have been there - you’d probably be angry at me anyway. 

five times + word 

The first time, Wally’s snoring loudly, draped over the couch in the monitor room. And then, Bruce does a double take - there hadn’t been in a couch in the monitor room previously. The speedster probably brought it in. Rolling his eyes, Bruce takes a seat across from Wally, turning on the monitor. Wally sniffs and mumbles something, and Bruce doesn’t wake him up - it’s not like he needed Wally to actually do anything. At least the damn kid was still for once.

The second time, it’s Bruce that has fallen asleep, being gently shaken awake. He blinks to green eyes, peering at him in concern. Great, Wally. Wally tells him to take the couch, and Bruce - to his surprise - listens. Sleepless nights have him tired enough to actually find himself on the couch, and the last thing he thinks, before falls asleep, is that the couch sort of smells like Wally. 

The third time, Bruce is looking through reports, seated on the couch because - well, it was more comfortable than those chairs, and there was no reason not to. Wally zips up next to him, plopping onto the cushions next to him and looking over his arm at the papers. Bruce wrinkles his nose in annoyance, but doesn’t pull away. Wally shifts closer, starts rambling about something or another, and it’s enough for Bruce to get to his feet and head back to the desk. 

The fourth time, Wally’s suit is torn and the kid is exhausted. His own suit could do with some repairs, and the rest of the league is scattered across the tower, tending to their injuries. Bruce is wrapping his arm, and Wally is - or, was - watching him. A glance at the speedster now, told Bruce that the other had fallen asleep, lips parted and head angled, leaning towards him. Eventually, Wally’s head falls on his shoulder, and Bruce doesn’t move away, resting back against the couch and closing his eyes.