A/N: 'I should post stories on my backburner,' I think. Why not? This is actually my first YJ one I finished but couldn't edit it to where I was happy. Story of my life.
So here we go. Not much to say, a couple months post-Invasion, and with the assumption that both Roy/Arsenal and Jason are in their late teens at this point. Rated T for language, mostly, and some violence in the next chapter.
Oh, and Jason Todd is precious bundle of rage that must be protected at all costs with a ten-foot pole.
The quiet warehouse had the barest sound of gears turning, and the slide of a window opening went unnoticed. The redhead was able to work; no one bothered him here. He was sure that others knew where his hideaway was – one of the empty warehouses in Star City – but they knew better to bother him. Thus, the ability Roy had to work without distractions. The implied part of that statement was that no one was able to sneak up on him: not Ollie, not his cloned self, not any other heroes or villains. This was his private space. No one would sneak up on him ever again. When someone slammed down on his desk while he was focusing on new taser darts, for a moment he was too stunned to do anything. That was a dead man's wish though, and a second later without looking up he slammed his finished work into the intruder's arm, sending an electric shock that should do damage.
Roy expected a cry of pain or something that was successful. However, all the 'victim' did was grit his teeth and withstand it. Looking up at the offending face, he growled out. "The hell do you want?"
He wasn't sure what he expected to see. He knew it wasn't a teenage face with a domino mask similar to the young members of the Bat Clan wore. Even with it on, Roy could detect that he was being glared at. Yeesh, it was even semi-competent compared to Bat-glare. Only Nightwing came that close to mimicking it that well, and only if he was really mad. Nonetheless, he couldn't say he's seen the intruder before, and he wasn't offered an introduction.
"I hear you're good with arsenal." It may be because he just shocked the kid, or he was the blunt type in general, but the masked teen didn't phrase it as a question but through gritted teeth.
Roy tensed. He himself was not wearing his mask right now, and very few knew his secret identity. It did not bode well for him that this unknown seemed to. Maybe it was because he was mildly impressed he was snuck up on no problem, but he did not shoot the offender to make him go away. "What's it to you?"
The teenager – really he couldn't be much older than him – propped his elbows down and leaned in close. If it was anyone else, Roy would have expected the next words to come out in a conspirator whisper. Instead, what came out was a dangerous growl. Yep, definitely reminded him of a Bat. "I need stock up, and you're it."
He scoffed at the command and instead stated the most obvious observation he made so far. "Are you a Bat? I swear that only you guys could sneak up like that. And if you are go to th-" A muzzle pressed into the underside of his chin before he could blink or finish his thought. Okay, since when did this guy have a gun? He failed to spot any over his initial once over.
Everything screamed that this was turning into a hostage situation unless he did what this madman wanted, but Roy was stuck on ice for several years- not much fazed him. He raised a questioning eyebrow and stated plainly. "Sensitive much? And what makes you think I'll do it." If the other teen truly was a madman then Roy's brains would have been blown out right there. The dark-haired stranger only pressed his lips together in an amused line and lowered his gun. He would never admit it, but Roy let out a sigh of relief.
"I figured you would be someone I could make do it." He straightened his posture and placed his hands behind his head, almost in a casual gesture, gun still held loosely in one hand. "I don't exactly have money for it."
Roy scowled. "And you thought I will acquire some tech for you for free? I don't take customers, especially trigger-happy nut-jobs." The boy's hand twitched, yet he made no move to threaten him again.
"I can do something for you. Just name it. I'm not a hired assassin-" his words came out as a detested growl "-anymore than you are a weapons dealer. However, I'll need some goods soon and need to be stocked up. Thought I'll try you."
The obvious answer was no. He may be on edge with all other heroes, but he wasn't unhinged enough to cause trouble for them from a guy who clearly was. It wasn't that reason why he stopped to consider the offer. A quiet voice in the back of his head said he could understand whoever this kid was. After a minute of silence he spoke out. "I have a beef against Lex Luthor."
His 'customer' gave him a dubious look without any shock behind it. Whatever the kid knew about him, it included his history. A twinge of frustration formed at the base of his neck from that. Roy was the only one who had no idea who he was speaking to.
"Do you want me to kill him?" The tone was casual, too casual for someone who looked so young. Despite his unease with the words, Roy felt a paradoxical comfort at that.
He shook his head. Eyes looked down at his weaponized arm out of anger and grief. "No, I wouldn't ask you to do that." His masked companion looked unimpressed at the words. Roy ignored him. "He's kind of untouchable right now, and if I'm going to put stress and satisfaction on anyone for doing it then it will be me."
The teenager smirked. "Fine. I'll scare him for you. Then you'll make me a deal." For the second time, it wasn't a question. Roy's jaw twitched in annoyance, and he shrugged.
"You got it. What do you want, kid?"
Satisfied, the he stored his gun and listed off his fingers. "Some smoke pellets and bombs, several flash grenades, some tranq shots that I can use when I run out of bullets or around civilians, and if you can make some normal bullets on top of that it will be great." Roy's mouth almost twisted into a smile. Besides the last one, everything sounded like something a Bat would use. Not wanting the gun directed at him for a second time, he wised up and did not point it out. He was also somewhat relieved that the guy wasn't a complete psychopath if he considered it on his conscience to not accidentally kill civilians in the crossfire.
"That's a lot for one favor to screw with a scumbag." Roy retorted. Yes, he would still do it if the other pulled through. It was a project to work on and he did not go through his own supply fast enough to keep entertained by making more.
The dark look and stiffened posture threw him off for a second, but the words spoke next resonated in the empty space. "Tell me it's not worth it." Roy thought of losing years of his life, his arm, and coming to in a world where he was cloned and his father figure first hadn't noticed and later hadn't cared enough to continue looking. He met the angry gaze with a dark look of his own. He would very much like to see Luthor suffer.
"It's worth it."
His new acquaintance's posture relaxed, and he leaned forward on his desk again. "Great. You can start working on them as soon as possible then. It'll take me a few days to get to Metropolis and back since I don't think the zeta beams will recognize me." The disdain present made Roy provide a questioning glance, although he kept quiet. He nodded, but the hesitancy must have shown somewhere on his face.
"Don't worry, I won't come back until my job's done." The voice dropped into an accented drawl, and after several seconds debating, Roy recognized it as one from Gotham's streets as he heard the few times he went to that cursed city. He was now 99% sure that the kid was a Bat, yet one he did not recognize. He didn't think much on it since he was accustomed to years of missed information.
"You have yourself a deal. Make sure if you do succeed with Luthor without killing him that it ends up on the news. I don't trust you can't do it but that you are probably a horrible storyteller." The masked vigilante snorted and with a smirk started to walk away.
"Oh, it'll definitely end up on the news." Roy rolled his eyes when the possible-associate-for-aggravated-assault went on, "And I never got your name."
"You already know it, apparently. It's Arsenal. Shouldn't I be the one to ask you that?"
Jason paused, staring up at the sky light. He didn't know this Roy before he died, but there's the smallest possibility that he would recognize his name. The last thing he wanted was for word to get to Batman before he was ready to make his appearance. He'll keep to what he already decided. There wasn't much harm in that.
"You can call me Red Hood."
A/N: It's hard to write for characters that have dozens of interpretations (hundreds+ if you include fan ones), and I should have the second half up once I'm happy with how I wrote Luthor.