Summary: Roy never told anyone that even though he didn't find the original Roy Harper, he did find Jason Todd or in this case, Jason found him.

Disclaimer: No, I do not own Young Justice or the head cannon.

WARNING: Rated M for Drug Use.

A/N: I hope everyone has a happy holiday. I'm going to be rewatching the Teen Titan episodes with Beast Boy and Terra as soon as my internet will allow and then soon after that I hope to have a chapter of Apprentice out. In the mean time enjoy this one shot between Roy and Jason via a prompt from Tumblr.

-Ana Uzumaki

.: 267. Roy never told anyone that even though he didn't find the original Roy Harper, he did find Jason Todd. Nor did he tell them that Jason didn't want to be found. :.

― Youngjusticeheadcannons

Found

Roy Harper

Location: Unknown

Date: February 13 Time: 03:11

When you close your eyes in the dark, the light hasn't actually disappeared. It dims, tethering between the white lines and back gaps in your vision. Not even the loud music, blasting on nearly the highest notch, is enough to quiet my racing thoughts. Five years, five years of near constant searching, and yet I have nothing. No leads, nothing. I've exhausted every resource, every clue.

I am nothing, a shadow, a memory of the man I was created from. I'm not even a real person, I frown as I reach forward, clumsily extending my hand forward.

"Your pathetic, Harper," a voice hisses nearly growling the words.

"W-Who's there?" I stutter, my voice nearly as shaky as my hand as I open my eyes. Desperately I grope the table next to me this time looking for my quiver in the near darkness that fills the old rusted out apartment room.

"Does it matter?" The figure shrugs, flicking a cigarette from his mouth and onto the busy street below as he rises from his place on the windowsill.

"Yes, yes it does actually; I'm not in the fucking mood for this," I snap sitting up. Aches and pains lace through my body as I rub my sides feeding my irritated state. "Who are you?"

"How long as it been since you slept?" They ask stepping closer to me. No matter how hard I strain my eyes, I still can't make out his features.

"Look here asshole, if I shoot an arrow through your head and right through your forehead maybe you would find it wise to answer my questions," I retort angrily.

"Last time I saw you I might have considered that a threat but now… Not so much."

"What do you mean last time you saw me?" Before the drugs, a voice in my head answers sliding across my thoughts. At least I know some part of my brain is still functioning when it comes to deduction and reasoning. "I haven't even been using that long."

"Shut the fuck up, Harper."

I don't have to see his face to know he's rolling his eyes. A scowl crosses my face as I rub my eyes with my hands. Whoever this mysterious figure is, at least I know they're here to help me, I hope. "A few days; I haven't slept in a few days."

The figure remains quiet as though pondering my answer. Eventually he groans and pulls out the chair I had in the corner of my near empty bedroom. I had found the old hunk of junk in the market, quickly deciding once I arrived that my one-bedroom, one-bath apartment needed some furniture. He turns it and in one swift move sits on it so that his arms are folded in front of him on the back of the chair. "We need to have a serious chat."

"Can you give me five?" I frown eyeing the full needle on the small table next to me.

He stiffens, his posture turning almost murderous in the short pause between my request and his answer. "Five minutes. If you take any longer than that, you will wish that those drugs would be able to give you an escape from the world of hurt I'm going to put on you."

Quickly I grab the needle from its place along with a small bag nearly tipping as I stumble into the bathroom. Nervously I close the door behind me, being overly cautious as I try not to make a sound, which was ridiculous. Whoever it is knows what I'm doing; it's not a secret to them yet my overwhelming feelings of guilt and shame force the quiet movements. It's as if they hear me do this to myself, it makes it real, and it becomes a problem I need to deal with.

But at this very second, it doesn't matter. Nothing matters but the needle going into my skin, the rubber tied around my arm. I squeeze every last drop from the trigger and sink back onto the toilet seat, my head against the cool grungy title as I wait for my high to kick in. I chase away all my thoughts. The ones telling me I'm no better than those junkies on the street, the echoes of I'm not as good as the real Speedy, the rejection from Jade and all it requires. Everything disappears and nothing matters anymore….

Except…

The figure still in my apartment.

I groan as I stand up, a smile spreading across my face. Maybe this won't be so bad after all, I compromise as I shove everything back in the bag zipping it up. I'll have to go on another run for tomorrow but for now everything's good, I decide as I open the door. "So, where were we, Mr. Mysterious Dude?" I ask as I close it behind me setting the stuff on my table.

"Roy, you need to quit this shit."

"What shit? The drugs? That's not so bad," I shrug as I begin organizing the stuff on the table. I shove a piece of old mail into the garbage pail. "You never did tell me your name," I remind him as I flip the switch, the room now flooding with dull light.

As I move to look behind me at them something… someone slams into me knocking me into the wall. Almost instantly their hand presses against my neck. "What gives?" I choke trying to blink away the red and white spots from my vision and narrow in on my attacker.

Eventually, my vision clears and I try and place my assailant. "No. No way," I shake my head dismissing my first guess. Jason is dead. He died in the line of duty. This has to be someone else, someone different.

"Say it," he snaps. "Who am I?"

"Jason? You can't be. I-I went to your funeral. There's a monument in the cave to him," I defend the lump in my throat growing. Unfortunately, it has nothing to do with the hand around my throat.

"Roy," the imposter frowns. His voice is strained, like he's trying to convey pain held deep inside his very being. "Don't make this harder than it has to be."

"You're a liar!" I yell trying to throw a punch. "Imposter! You're… How dare you take up his name a pretend to be him!"

"Roy," he orders looking at me. His figure blurs; I hadn't realized I had started crying. "Calm down."

"Don't you dare try and disgrace his memory!"

"Ask me something!" He snaps removing his hand from my neck. "Ask me something," he repeats exasperated.

I stutter and fall to my knees gasping for breath. "Who was Robin before you?"

"Dick Grayson," he answers, his voice bordering on sarcasm. "Anything else?"

"Who is Agent A?"

The Jason Imposter steps back, on his face is something between a fond smile and a grimace. "Alfred," he answers quietly. "You and Wally are the only ones who know about him because of Dick."

"Only shit," I blink. "How the fuck? Speedy. If you're alive then that means…" This changes everything. That means I can go back to looking.

"It's not the same thing Roy," He frowns watching me. "You need to see Olie or Dick, someone who can help you. Even Black Canary could help you."

"No," I snap. "They gave up trying to find him."

"Quit your fucking shit or I'm going to sick someone on your ass who won't put up with your God damn shit Roy."

"Like who?" As soon as the words are out of my mouth I know exactly who.

"Clean up your act. Quit this shit with the drugs. Start training and get your life under control."

"And if I don't?" Tauntingly I cross my arms over my chest.

In one swift movement he shoves me against the wall centimeters from where he pinned me earlier. This time though he presses something against my head. I freeze; it's a gun. "Jason? Jason? What are you doing?" I gasp, his arm crushing my jugular.

"Let me just get this straight. I am not the same Jason that you last saw Roy. A lot has changed since then," he explains as he uses his thumb to cock the gun. "If you do not quit, you won't have to worry about overdosing because I'm going to put a bullet between your eyes. Understand?"

Unable to answer, I nod my head.

"Good." He removes his arm and lets me one and once again I find myself on the floor of my apartment, on my knees gasping for breath. When I look at him, he hesitates. His features are cold but for an instant I think I catch a hint of regret and maybe something else… Longing perhaps?

"What happened to you Jay?" I pose unsure of the intentions of the figure in front of me.

"I died," he mumbles, his voice barely audible as he makes his way to the window.

"Do they know you're back? Bruce, Dick… If they knew-"

"You're not going to tell anyone Harper," he snaps harshly, cutting me off.

"They're going to try and find you Jason when they figure out your back…," I plea to his retreating figure as he opens my window. Jason pulls one foot over the windowsill and sits pausing briefly before ducking his head under the glass.

"I don't want to be found Roy."