DISCLAIMER: I gain nothing from this story and do not own anything DC related, kay thanks.
Had a really bad week at work and home and this is what kinda came outta the situation. I know I have a chapter fic I've been neglecting, but I figured if I didn't want it getting to emo then I needed to get this outta my system before continuing.
Now, I'll be the first one to say it, this will probably suck, but that's okay. This is a future fic, three years in the future, and I'm going off with the assumption that Roy will start taking Heroin just like he did in the original comics. Wally and Roy aren't dating or anything, but Wally is just living with him trying to help him get through this really bad time in his life.
I will say, Roy/Wally is one of my favorite couples though.
Aneeway, lots of implied stuff, but I didn't want to go into to grave details. Might scrap this later, might rewrite it, might continue it, who knows. Reviews and comments are always welcome.
The taunting laugh still echoed in his head. The words that cut like a knife, no matter how hard he tried to laugh and smile like it meant nothing to him. A pain still ached in his chest as his shoes scuffed down the snow covered streets, and all because of a little bit of rough teasing. He couldn't blame her though, that was just how Arty was, and long ago did he learn not to take it seriously. With a grain of salt, just like his aunt had always said. A sigh slipped past his lips, his breath making strange designs in the cold air that he would normally watch dance out of view. It hurt, it hurt so bad. But the teen had always been way to sensitive for his own good, and the timing was off. The subject of her torment was even worse.
She didn't know all the details. That was what he told himself the second the comment had slipped out. She didn't know that the older boy really had a problem. She didn't know what he had done. She didn't know how hard it was for him right now, how much pain he was in. How much pain they were both in. The sad part was though that even if she had know, he doubted that she would have stayed silent.
But that was just how Arty was…
He couldn't tell her, he couldn't tell anyone actually. He had promised the older boy almost three years ago when it all started that he wouldn't, and that was one thing the younger prided himself in. Wally West could keep a promise. Besides, if he told anyone bad things would happen. Roy didn't need any of that right now…he was doing good. He was doing so much better. The track marks were fading from his flesh, his moods were going back to normal, and he was less violent with his friends. With Wally. And as far as the red head was concerned that was good enough for him.
But was it good enough for Roy?
That had been the question on his mind for almost a whole week. The older hero had been aloof, distancing himself even from his speedster roommate. It worried him, scared him even. His behavior now was so similar to when it first started… but Wally had to trust Roy. He had to trust him. If he didn't, who else would? And if anyway had a reason to distrust the archer it would be Wally, but that was no way to think. Roy hadn't meant it, hadn't meant any of it, and he was trying so hard to get better. To make it up to him. And Roy was getting better.
A soft click sounded as a key entered a familiar lock. It stuck, but with a jiggle and a kick strategically placed the door swung open. A shiver ran down the speedsters spine as heat washed over him, instantly bringing a smile to his face. It may be small, it may be dirty, and it may be littered with minor explosives, but it was home. It was home because every night when he left Mount Justice, leaving Kid Flash and Young Justice behind, Roy was there. Normally he would be sharpening an arrow, or maybe half asleep in front of the TV. Those were good nights though. Sometimes they had bad night. Nights where he would be sweating and shaking. Nights where Roy would yell and break things. Nights where he might even get violent again, but they worked through it. Besides, it wasn't like it was Roy's fault, he was sick. Wally was just hoping that tonight was a good night.
The speedster dropped his keys on a small table beside the door before slipping out of his winter jacket, eyes scanning the small one bedroom apartment for his friend. He had made enough noise when he had forced the door shut with his foot, so why hadn't he come out to greet him? A small bubble of anxiety made his heart pound. Please, god please, don't let it be a bad night.
"Roy?" Wally frowned when he heard a trace of that desperation in his voice as he called out for the older male. But there was no answer. No laughter that the speedster had fallen for his trick. No yelling to signal that he was pissed. Nothing but the soft tic-toc of their clock.
The speedster made a quick survey of the apartment, but Roy was no where to be found. The only sign of anything amiss was the soft rustling of a paper on the kitchen table, caught up in the red head's speed trail. His heart pounded in his throat as he picked it up, his world almost seeming to move in slow motion as he unfolded it and sat down gingerly at the table.
Roy's handwriting stared back at him, smooth and blocky. Freckled hands began to shake. Green eyes blurred with tears that fell and stained the paper that was now being clutched so tightly it nearly tore.
He was gone…
He was really gone…
Dear Wally,
Worst way to start this off, but it was the only thing I could think of writing. I don't even know how to put this ,so I guess I should just say it straight out. Thank you. For holding my head up when I was messed up. For making sure I stayed sober for these three months. And I'm sorry. For everything. For taking it all out on you. You've been nothing but wonderful and I don't fucking deserve it. All you've done is try and help me, and how do I repay you? There's no excuse for what I did and there's no way I can ever apologize enough for it. I just can't see you like this anymore. You're always so tense when you're here and I know it's all because of me. I don't want you crying over the things I do anymore. I want a smile to come back and shine just like it used to. The smile that always made me know that things were going to be alright. I can't remember the last time I saw it. Sure you grin and mess around still, but it isn't the same kid. There's no light in your eyes anymore and it's all because I took it away from you. The others need that smile again Wal. So I need you to do one last thing for me, you can do that right? I need you to let go, of me. If you have to hate me to do it then do it. Hate me for everything I've done to you, all the bruises and hurt feelings. Hate me for what I've taken away from you. No more love, no more forgiveness. Just hate me. Hate me for all the things I did and didn't do. Hate me so you can finally see what's good for you.