Roy Harper was not afraid when they arrested him.
It had been a sudden, reckless decision that had bade him to snatch Oliver's suit from it's spot in the display case and don it. Had the cops not been so intent on wrenching his hands painfully behind his back, they might have noticed that the leather was too large for someone of Roy's height and weight. He doubted it would have mattered anyway. They were wrapped up in Ra's Al Ghul's game, and as such were puppets to his will without even knowing it. They would notice only what served their own conclusions, and right now they had concluded that Roy was the Arrow.
Roy cringed from the bright lights of the cop cars and helicopter circling him. The heat from the light sent waves of uncomfortable tightness down his spine. He felt himself begin to sweat in the tight, ill-fitted leather but he ignored that. The police dogs had been brought out, and they lunged for him as he was brusquely pulled to his feet. Sharp, long canines flashed white in his face. He backed away, glaring. That's a little extreme, he thought.
The thought was interrupted as he was roughly shoved forward. Cautiously moving on their toes, the policemen who had come out for his appearance started to return to their cars and trucks. Roy knew guns were still pointed at him. He felt a tinge of pride when he realized that all these weapons and all this fuss was over Oliver. They do have a right to be afraid, though Oliver had a soft and sincere face, Roy was one of the few people who really knew him. Due to that exclusive knowledge, he knew that his teacher could have taken down each and every one of these guys blindfolded.
With a broken leg.
And both arms tied behind his back.
Added, now the same attention was being given to him. He was almost flattered.
Not so flattered that he dared look up when he was pushed in front of Captain Lance. Roy kept his eyes down, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck stand up as the elder man narrowed his eyes at him suspiciously. He would give them no reason to charge him or Oliver of even more offenses.
He could feel Oliver's incredulous (and probably furious) gaze burrowing into his forehead. After a moment, Captain Lance just growled. "I should have known you would try something like this, Harper," he hissed into Roy's ear venomously. "Try to save him like a loyal little lap-dog," Roy stiffened at the insult. Lap-dog?
"But make no mistake; Oliver Queen will answer for his crimes. All you did was grant us a chance to build on them. Only a villain would bring some kid into this madness," Roy had to bite his tongue to stop the torrent of responses that battered against his lips. Any insult against himself he could take. He didn't care.
However, Lance was starting to really get on his nerves. How dare he call Oliver, Thea's brother, his leader and teacher a villain? That was unforgivable, and though Roy understood –better than he would have liked-the kind of pain that Lance had to have been going through, the guy was seriously tipping into the land of undeniably never forgiven in Roy's book.
Nevertheless, Roy kept his mouth shut. He knew the Miranda Rights by heart. Lance was trying to bait him into saying something that could be used against them in court. Roy would not give him that chance. After a second of silence, The Chief just sneered and took Roy's shoulder in a death grip, shoving him inside of the truck with Oliver.
"Here, since you're so loyal you ride with him," Lance said bitterly. Roy ducked into the small space where Oliver was, careful to avoid the eyes he knew was examining every inch of his face. He didn't want Oliver to know how relieved he was. It would only make him feel bad.
The moment that he had told Thea he felt relieved that he was being arrested, he had not been lying. Finally, finally, he would get the same punishment as everyone else. He would get what he deserved for the murder of an innocent man, and a childhood of delinquency. That man's family could rest in peace knowing that Roy was behind bars, a luxury that he had never had since the murder of his parents. He would not be like the murderous people that Arsenal had helped put away however. He would be better; he would do what was right.
If only Oliver could understand that.
"I'm sorry about this Captain," came the calm voice of Mr. Queen himself, calling out to Lance as he shut the door angrily. The man only responded with a death-glare and a grunt. Roy really wanted to roll his eyes.
"Your funeral," Lance snorted before the doors closed, trapping Roy inside of the van with Oliver. He heard the engines start up, red and blue lights flashed as the truck rattled its way to the jail.
He looked up, and gulped when he saw the absolute fury in Oliver's eyes. "Why'd you apologize to him? He's the one who's wrong," And yet that was the best thing he had to say in his defense.
Oliver ignored him anyway. "I have a better question. What the hell are you doing here, Roy? I told you to stand down," Oliver demanded. His voice was calm, but Roy had learned to tune out the part of Oliver's voice that was Arrow and the part that was Oliver Queen. Right now, he was probably acting angry only because he was terrified for Roy's safety, or something stupid like that. Oliver Queen was an idiot that way. That was the reason that sometimes, Roy liked the Arrow better.
He gave a small half shrug. "I have problems with authority," the look Oliver gave him could have set off bombs. So, maybe he is really angry, and not just pretending. Oops, it occurred to Roy that he might not to be so good at reading Oliver as he had thought.
"Roy…" Yep, definitely irate. He could really use the Arrows sense of control right about now, in order to prevent Oliver smashing his skull in.
"Alright, alright! I told you already, I would never be able to live with myself if I let you do this alone," he reminded Oliver, feeling a bit of anger of his own build up. Why was it that whenever Oliver did something reckless and self-sacrificing, it was brave and unselfish but when Roy did it, it was stupid? There was some messed up logic about that.
Oliver leaned forward, and lowered his voice. "And I told you, you'd have to live with it," he replied darkly.
"If this situation was reversed and I had told you that, you would have laughed in my face and then done this exact same stunt."
"And I took you on hoping you had sense enough not to be like me!"
"I never gave you any indication of being that sensible. So technically, this is your own fault," Roy replied without thinking. He quickly clamped his mouth shut afterwards, noticing how close they were. Oliver had never laid an intentionally cruel hand on him. Roy knew for a fact that he never would, but he had a feeling that if Oliver were a slightly less disciplined man, he would have been beaten to a pulp by now.
As it was, Oliver only inhaled a deep breath. He pinched the bridge of his nose like he did when he was really stressed, and let the breath out slowly. "Do you think this is a game?" He asked, then, softer this time. "That this is just another night out shooting untrained criminals? Because it's not. This isn't our game anymore Roy, it is the game of Ra's Al Ghul. He's not some petty street thief and he is not known for his mercy. Don't you get it?" Oliver leaned forward, his cuffed hands coming to sway helplessly between them. "You have now put yourself directly into his sights," he whispered, and there was a wild worry in his eyes that might have scared another person.
Roy wondered if he was supposed to be scared. "Better me than you," he replied sincerely.
"Ugh!" Oliver cried, leaning back. He rested his head against the back of the truck to close his eyes. "Diggel and Felicity would never have agreed to this," he told the ceiling tiredly after a moment of silence broken up only by the whir of police sirens.
Roy nodded. "I didn't tell them about it," he admitted, well aware that when they got their hands on him, Oliver would be the least of his worries. Diggel would probably shoot him after Felicity got done strangling him in a hug.
"So you snuck out," Oliver surmised bitterly.
Roy shifted where he sat, awkwardly. When he said it like that, it sounded so juvenile, like he was a disobedient three-year-old. Then again Oliver had that effect on people. He could make them feel incredibly young and inexperienced. "So did you," he pointed out.
Oliver was massaging his temples again. "Roy, again, I never wanted you to be like me!"
Roy almost joined him. "Oliver, again, I never gave you any indication that I wasn't already like you!"
"What about Thea?" That made Roy freeze. Oliver noticed, despite not looking at him. "Ah. So you didn't tell her either," he guessed correctly. Roy was silent, guilt building in his chest. He could already imagine how worried she would be. First her brother gets arrested, and now him? His heart ached for the woman he loved.
"She's strong," he tried to assure them both.
"She loves you," it was not a question.
"I know," a moment of silence. "I love her too," he did. He loved Thea more than he loved life, and between the lies and secrets between them, Roy was unsure how he had ever managed to hook so wonderful a person as his lover. By all rights, Thea should have picked anyone else and they would have deserved her more than Roy did. Roy was a murderer. Thea did not deserve someone like that.
"Roy," he looked up. Oliver was staring at him with less anger and more frantic desperation. "You could have had a life with her. Heck, you have your entire life in front of you! You could have been normal, taken a normal job, you could have been happy like John is happy…"
The very thought of life without… without the Team and everything they did sickened him. "I wanted that once," he admitted softly. Oliver halted in his tirade, his expressive eyes heartbroken. "I wanted nothing more than to run away with your sister Oliver. We were going too, back when Slade… Well, you know," he remembered the night when Thea had shown up on his doorstep, lost, betrayed and hurting. Roy had failed her that night. He had saved the city at the cost of the woman he loved.
Yes. Thea would be better off without him.
"But I had already spent my entire life up to then running. Running from the cops, running from love, running from any responsibility or integrity. I had lost so much time to running and you know what I learned from that time? That running didn't solve my problems. Thea saved me from that time. She gave me her heart and her hand and helped pull me out, but… Then I met you," he smiled. "And you gave me a reason to pull back," he said.
Oliver sighed. "Then in respect for what I've done for you, why didn't you trust me?" He asked.
Roy blinked, taken aback by the question. "I do trust you!" he cried immediately.
"No!" there he goes again with this anger thing. "No you don't Roy! If you trusted me, you would have let me handle this."
"Let you throw away your life, you mean?" Roy snapped. "Let you take the blame for something you didn't do alone? Let you go into battle without someone to watch your back!? Yeah, because that's totally a great idea!" Roy felt the familiar feel of rage build within him, a rage that had been there since the day he was born it felt like. The past few months he had learned to control it, but now there was no way to burn it off. They were trapped in a van going to a jail. There was no other thing for them to focus on, not now.
"I can only see an inch in front of me and this is what's in front of me right now!" He remembered Diggel's cry of rage, and fed off it. He would make Oliver understand why he had done as he had, or they would both die trying.
"I had to do this! I didn't have a choice!"
"No, you had a choice, but you chose to do it your way! Like you always do!" The truck ran into a pothole and jumped. Roy clung to the bottom of his seat, glaring.
"What are you talking about?" Oliver demanded. "I don't always do things my way!" Roy snorted. For a smart man, Oliver sure did have some pretty big allusions about himself.
"Oh, really? What about that thing with Sara's killer, huh? You were so positive it wasn't Malcolm. So very sure that you passed up a chance to strike him down! That led to everything afterward with Ra's!"
Oliver was turning red with rage. Roy trusted he was doing the same. "You know why I had to do that! It was for Thea!"
Roy leaned back, struggling to control the anger which yearned for an outlet. He had a sudden raving to feel the smooth curve of a bow in his hands, to release and hear the swish of arrows. "Yeah," he agreed, softer this time. He drew himself up, glaring Oliver up and down; letting months of suppressed fear and grief come out at last. Despite having not shown it, these past few months of struggle had not been easy on Roy either. Every mistake, every bad guy, every bloodthirsty criminal who hurt his team hurt him. Roy was tired of getting hurt.
"I know why. What I don't know is why you wouldn't let us help. You have people who would die for you Oliver, but you refuse to use them because it isn't your way. Well, your way has done what now?" Oliver stared at him, silently daring him to go on. Roy dared. "Oh, yeah, it is gotten your mother killed, Slade in a prison cell on a deserted island, Sara murdered, Thea turning into an assassin, Felicity dating the dude who stole your company and me?" He let out a bitter bark of fake laughter. "I have dreams about the cop I murdered every night! The cop you waited almost a year to tell me about!" He cried.
The second the last word left his mouth, Roy regretted what he had said. Most of that had not been Oliver's fault, and he knew that Oliver felt bad about all the events already. So why…? Thankfully, Oliver didn't care about the others. He narrowed his eyes at Roy, instantly catching on.
"That cop," he whispered. "That's why you're doing this. You feel like you deserve it for what happened to him," he said.
Roy sighed and looked away. "I killed an innocent man, Oliver. There is no coming back from that," he said softly. He was not surprised when a strong hand quickly grabbed his knee, squeezing hard.
"Roy, look at me," he sounded just like Thea. Roy was helpless to deny him. He turned, expecting anger like Laurel, shock like Felicity and Diggel or even denial like Thea, but instead was met with eyes that only understood his pain. "There has not been a single second since I met you that I have doubted your integrity or character. I…" Oliver squeezed his knee.
"I would never have given you that mask if I even remotely suspected you of having the heart or mind of a killer. What happened… I know there's nothing I can say to convince you it was right because nothing that day was, but at least believe me when I say that it was not your fault. If anything; blame me for not taking care of Slade and the Miracuru when I had the chance," Roy shook his head. Tears pricked at his eyes. He blinked them away rapidly.
"I could never blame you," his throat was husky with unshed tears.
Oliver shook his head. "Then stop blaming yourself," One side of his mouth quirked into a small half smile. "Because the more you blame yourself, the more I blame myself and I have enough things on my plate. Don't complicate more things for me, Harper," Roy couldn't help but crack a smile at that one. Upon seeing the smile, Oliver gave him one of his rare grins. "Hey," he continued, gently.
Roy leaned forward. "What?"
"I still believe in you, kid." And that was the man that Roy had come to admire and even love like a brother. The man who filled him with such confidence Roy felt like he could save the world- or even better, save himself and then some. It was because of this insanely compassionate person that Roy had joined in the crusade in the first place. As time had passed, Roy's own search for the Arrow had taken a different turn as he had met the man beneath the mask. Now, The Arrow himself wasn't overly inspiring or even encouraging.
But Oliver Queen was Roy's absolute hero.
He swallowed. "And I still believe in you," the words were hard for him to utter. Roy had never been the emotional-sharing-of-feelings type. "That's the reason I'm doing this. Half of it was because of the cop I killed, yeah," he acknowledged nodding. "But the other reason is because I'm your partner, Oliver. Where you go, I go," he told his partner with utmost sincerity.
Oliver, seeming to remember where they were, broke away and looked up and around. A few minutes of agonizing, unsure silence passed between them. Roy wondered what would happen when they reached prison. He wondered what Thea would say. Would she even come visit him?
"I never wanted this for you," Oliver said at last. It seemed that his anger was finally spent. Now the look he directed at Roy was just tired. Tired, and very, very worried.
Roy was unimpressed by Oliver's pain. He would be okay. "I know this is a new concept for you, but we can't always get what we want," came the dry response. Oliver did not rise to the bait. Instead, the look of sadness in his eyes grew.
"I was just trying to protect you," he told Roy in a broken voice. "All of you. Don't you get it Roy? If anything happens to you-any of you- because of something I started… I'll never be able to live with myself," Roy pretended not to grasp the full implication of what Oliver was trying to say.
"Well, I'm just going to need you too," Oliver looked away. His cuffed hands were twisted in his lap, fidgeting in a nervous twitch that came out only in his deepest moments of vulnerability. Roy saw his mind moving, planning, and desperately seeking a way to get Roy out of this situation. There was no way however. Roy was condemned.
"You don't understand," Oliver lamented.
They were both condemned, and Oliver knew it. So he sat there in quiet suffering watching the red and blue lights flash on the walls of their small prison. His mouth was turned into a frown that always seemed to be there and in the stark white light of their surroundings; Roy could see the agony his expression had twisted into. He knew how much this was killing Oliver. The man who would give anything to protect the world.
Now he knew how it felt.
"No," he contradicted, clasping clammy hands together in his lap. He leaned over, elbows on his knees so that the man who was as close to Roy's heart as a brother could stare into his eyes. So he could finally understand how serious this was. "No, I get it, but I don't think you do. You keep saying you're only trying to protect us Oliver. Felicity had it right back at the Foundry, all you ever do is protect other people. You're always protecting us, but has it ever occurred to you that we would do the same? That each and every one of us would die before we saw you harmed?"
Oliver's fists clenched. "I can't ask that of you," he whispered.
Roy clenched his teeth. "Yes, you can dammit!" he growled. "Because if you haven't noticed Oliver, we already live for you! If you think for one second that Diggel, Felicity, Laurel, Thea, or me joined your crusade because of any honor on our part, you're an idiot. And not only an idiot, but an idiot asshole. We all joined you because we care about you! For the sake of all that's good Oliver, get it through your thick skull, we love you too!" He hissed.
Oliver stared at him with wide eyes. It was the first time that Roy had ever seen him look so shocked; or even surprised at all. Something like fear shifted in his eyes, and it was the first time Roy had ever seen him look afraid either. Oliver, no matter the circumstance, occasion or even disaster was forever sure. That was why he was their leader. That was the reason that Roy had always seen him as sort of a big brother. It did not matter what the city was going through or how bloody a night that they had encountered. He was constantly in control, he was always so strong.
Roy felt like he should have been panicked to see genuine emotion on that usually neutral face, but he only felt sad for his mentor. It turned out that the one thing on the face of the world that scared the great Oliver Queen wasn't death, torture or even becoming a monster.
No, he was afraid of being loved.
"Didn't know that, did you?" he smiled bitterly. This was what the world had done to one of the kindest people the Earth had ever seen. It had made him afraid of life's most precious gift. It had warped him into a person who would dish out love and caring like he manufactured a new version for each new person, but it would not allow him to accept any in return for fear that the love might get someone else he loved killed, or worse. He might get them killed.
"Or actually, you know it, you just won't accept it. You won't accept that you're loved because you think loving you kills people," he concluded. Oliver's jaw clenched.
"Everyone who has loved me has paid a fatal price, Roy," he ground out between clenched teeth. In his eyes, Roy saw the memories of all that proved his theory. His father, Slade, Shado, his mother,Tommy, Sara… " Please, don't make the same mistake. I'm not worth it," it sounded almost like a plea.
"Too late," Arsenal snorted indifferently. "By the way, if it kills me, that's okay. You wanna know why it's okay? Because you gave me life Oliver," he threw his hands up in exasperation. The cuffs on them jingled like bracelets.
"You give everyone you meet life. That's why Ra's wants you, not because you're a good fighter but because you inspire loyalty just by being. Man, before you we were nothing. Diggel was a war veteran with a stupid body-guard's position. Felicity was an IT girl who hacked when she got bored, which was basically, like, twenty three hours of her day. Laurel was a naïve and scared alcoholic attorney. Thea was a spoiled brat and I…" his voice hitched.
"I was so angry. I hated myself, I hated people, I hated the world and that hate was killing me. I didn't have humanity before I met you because I wasn't human. I was a body," memories of that existence flitted through his mind. The lonely nights, the days which just had never seemed light, the moments he had very much wanted to die and had only kept going so he could get into more trouble.
Tears built in his eyes.
Oliver was not far behind him in that department. "Roy," his voice cracked pitifully. He was begging. "Please…" I'm afraid, I'm afraid I might lose you, and your love will destroy me.
Roy continued, because sometimes people had to face their fears. "You changed all that, and don't even think I mean the Arrow. He just saved my life, which I didn't have much of anyway, so there. You're not that special," Oliver's eyes wavered, stuck to Roy's as if he were mesmerized by the very words that were tearing him apart.
"No, the day that you took the hood off you saved me. You told me that we were just beginning and suddenly I wasn't afraid anymore. You introduced me to Diggel and Felicity, you invited me into your world and…" I am not going to cry, I am not going to cry. My thousandth mug shot will not be with cried out eyes.
The thoughts didn't work. Hot tears suddenly flooded down his face. "You gave me a home. A family. A purpose. Things I had no interest in or clue about. You can't even begin to understand just what you've done for me Oliver," a strangled sob escaped his throat. "I know you're afraid of being loved because you think something bad will happen to us if we do, or that you're not worthy of it or because you're an idiot asshole and you think stuff like that but you don't understand," he had to squeeze the last whisper out past his hitching breaths.
"You don't understand that I will not only die at your side, I would quite happily live at your side too. I don't want a normal life, I want the one you gave me, mask included. You and the team are the closest thing to family I've got, Oliver. You're like a brother to me, and… And I would do anything to keep you safe," he looked down, suddenly embarrassed by his outburst. He swiped away his tears quickly. "Anything," now he was done.
"Roy…" Stunned by the completely vulnerable and hearable emotion in Oliver's voice, Roy looked up. How exactly Oliver managed to yank him into a tight hug with both of them handcuffed and Roy having been sitting across from him in a very small space was beyond the younger archer.
It also didn't matter.
He clung to Oliver as tightly as Oliver clung to him. He took refuge in the strong arm's of his brother like a son would cling to his father after a very long nightmare, and if he felt Oliver's shoulders shaking with an ebullition that was long in coming, and heard small sounds of both irrevocable remorse or unparalleled relief, he pretended not too. For Oliver's sake, he pretended not too.
However, it was hard to ignore it when Oliver leaned in close to whisper brokenly in his ear: "You saved me too, Roy," Oliver squeezed his upper arms. "I was going insane with guilt and pain. My very humanity was slipping. I was so alone, and you… You gave me motivation to hold on. You gave me a chance to redeem myself; a reason to keep fighting, every single day. You saved me," Roy buried his face in Oliver's shoulder, inhaling the deep scent of cheap soap (he had probably commandeered I from Dig's house) and disinfectant for perhaps the last time. He didn't know what was going to happen after this, but he knew one thing.
If it kept Oliver safe, he would do it. He would do anything to keep his brother from harm.
"Thank you," Oliver whispered. Roy nodded against his shoulder, too choked up to speak. "Thank you," they stayed like that for a few more seconds, merely cataloging the grip of a friend, letting it soothe them for a slight second. If only a second, they allowed themselves the same peace they had fought to give everyone else.
Then, Arsenal and the Arrow replaced Roy and Oliver. They parted.
There was no sign of tears on either of their faces, but it was enough that the lines of worry that had aged Oliver's face had settled to prove that something had been accomplished tonight. Roy had not felt this… Liberated since he and Thea had gotten back together. He opened his mouth.
The sound of tires coming to a stop sent a jolt of recognition down his spine. He remembered where they were, suddenly and unpleasantly, and also what was going to happen next. He was going to jail, probably for the rest of his life. There was still the city and the league to deal with.
The back of the van opened, revealing most of the city's police force shining bright lights inside, and brandishing guns in their face. The rabid bark of dogs and roar of reporters nearly deafened him. Captain Lance stood at the forefront of the chaos, scowling. His eyes swept the two of them inquisitively, but he did not ask after whatever he saw. He merely jerked his head.
"Let's go, Arrowheads," he stated, with less bite this time.
Roy met Oliver's eyes. "Oliver," he gulped softly. "I'm scared," Oliver was unsurprised, and accepting.
Laying a hand on Roy's shoulder, he assured him quickly: "It's okay. I promised that I would never abandon you, and I won't. We're partners. Wherever you go," a small smile. "I go too, until the very end." That was not the most encouraging thing that Roy had even heard but somehow it still did the trick. He smiled back and stood. Oliver stood with him, and together, they faced the world which condemned them, smiling. Shoulder to shoulder, back to back.
Brothers.
"Until the end, partner."