Ok, just a heads up, all of the other chapters of this story will be taken down periodically over the next few weeks to be slightly revised. This story got too fluffy and not exactly where I wanted it. So… going to be doing some reconstruction, but same idea overall. Just adjusting some wording and increasing the darkness.

Reviews: Flower-Child14, Miyuki Tanaka, yaoifanfake, Karinnaa, Solitude-Garden, and MyLittleAngelxxx

Major thanks to MyLittleAngelxxx, cuz she brought me back to this fiction! Again! Yeah… my life's a little busy, and I'm human. So major thanks for bring me back. I forget to do stuff!

Favs: teobaldl, AnimeFan1000, clack-forever888, Dustydarkangel, MagnoBlade, Solitude-Garden, and Babi-luvs-skyler.

Please read and review. It means a lot to me.

Me no own DC. Or Green Arrow. Or…well, anything comic ownership wise.

After weeks of being trapped indoors, Roy was eager to get out and do something. He had recovered nicely so far, and the idea of getting a chance to kick some evil moron's butt was too tempting to pass up. So, after hours of drilling Ollie to let him out for a while, he found himself on the roof tops of Star City. Clad in his, yes- his uniform. Not the original Roy Harper's uniform. It was his. It had been his since he became Speedy, and he had earned his colors every day through sweat, pain and the occasional tears. Not that he'd admit to the tears, but that was a guy thing. Totally a guy thing.

"So, where are the creeps this time?" Roy asked, trying to keep conversation between his mentor and himself flowing so Ollie wouldn't think he was drifting into the dark part of his mind again.

The last week had been spent witling away the overwhelming frustration and confusion brought on by the real Roy Harper's reappearance. Ollie and Dinah had been so supportive, and had even found time to deal with both Roy's. The real Roy was confused and seemed to be missing a great number of years from his memory. Poor kid still thought he was fifteen. Talk about a way to wake up from a coma. One day you're looking forward to driving a car, and the next, you wake up to find out you've missed six years of your life and are able to drink in a few months. You've missed the better years of your teenager life, and everyone thought you were dead except for your clone. A clone who was used as a puppet by the Light, nearly killed when he tried to save the League, and happens to be sporting your arm. The kid said he didn't hold it against clone Roy, how could he? The clone didn't decide that he was going to be born. And it wasn't his fault that the Light captured the original Roy to make him. He was just a puppet. Red Arrow didn't feel the same way. He'd taken over a life he wasn't supposed to have. He had become something that wasn't supposed to exist.

It had taken a lot of time, energy and comfort to get Red back to where he belonged. On the bright side, Ollie had been keeping close to the kid at all times. The real Roy Harper was catching up with Guardian, and wasn't too demanding for Ollie's time. He apparently didn't feel that connected to the blonde billionaire, but that was understandable. He'd only known him for a few months after his parents had died, and didn't have nearly as much history as Ollie had with Red Arrow.

"They should be in warehouse fourteen. Bats said they had explosives, so keep on your guard."Ollie replied. It felt good to be back on patrol with the kid. The better memories of their younger days came flooding back to the archer's mind, reminding him of everything he liked about the kid. Red was so well trained, he managed to keep every movement in tune with Ollie's without even having to think about it. Ollie sincerely doubted that the real Roy was willing to play catch up to his Roy.

His Roy.

Yup. He still loved the sound of that. This was his Roy. The Roy he'd trained, dealt with, and fought every day since the brat came to live with him.

Ollie's thoughts ceased once they reached the warehouse. This would be just another routine break in and bust some jaws. Once they had subdued the illegal weapons transporters, they could leave them there for the cops to deal with.

"Ready?" Ollie jested as he raised his bow to fire the first gas arrow. A smoke screen was always a good distraction when explosives were involved. It wouldn't risk blowing up the joint before they managed to get in. As the arrow hit its target, both Arrow's started to move towards the target. The gas quickly took over the area, shielding them in the large cloud as they pressed forward.

"Who's there?!" One of the goons yelled as they heard a gun clip being fumbled with. Great, just what they needed. Impersonal deadly weapons in the hands of undertrained fools.

Red Arrow dodged behind the boxes to the side, making sure to keep Ollie in his sights as the other man mirrored the tactic on the other side of the warehouse. If they could get high enough on the crates, they would have a good advantage over their targets.

Climbing almost to the top of the crates, Roy took his position and launched a knock out arrow at one of the goons, effectively giving the brute a good punch to the face. He watched the man fall as he took aim for the next one, only to be beat by a green tailed arrow. He smirked at his mentor. It felt good to be back on the job.

A heavy metal edge came into the back of Roy's head, knocking him from the crates. He hit the floor with a rough and sickening thud as he curled into himself.

Fuck that hurt. His head started to imitate a rave as lights flickered behind his eyelids and his blood tried to learn how to play the drums. He gripped his head as he pushed himself back up, trying to sit as he regained his equilibrium. He heard grunts, thumps and thuds of Ollie taking out some unexpected rage on some of the goons. Forcing his eyes open, Roy saw all of the remaining thugs lying on the floor behind an approaching Ollie.

"Where does it hurt?" Ollie asked as he kneeled in front of Roy, gently pulling the kid into his chest as he checked for injuries.

"My head hurts." Roy mumbled out. He didn't mean to mumble, but it came out as a bumbled mess of words. He must have hit the ground harder than he thought. He closed his eyes as Ollie ran his strong hands over the kids body, checking for cuts or swelling areas. He stopped at Roy's head as he gently ran three fingers over the kid's skull repetitively.

"You've got some swelling on your head. Let's get you back to the tower so the doc can check you out." Ollie said as he slid his arms under the kids legs and around his back. Roy noted that he couldn't really feel below his legs. He could still wiggle his toes, but the rest of it just felt numb, as if someone had tied a large rope around his middle to cut off circulation. He brushed it off as an aftershock of the fall, and allowed himself to be coddled by Ollie.

"Mumfph…mumm…mpf…" Roy grumbled unintelligibly. Ollie smirked at the kid as he pulled the kid as close as he could to his chest. He let a small kiss escape his lips, not that the kid would notice. If he held it long enough, he'd probably chalk it up to normal contact in this situation. Ollie didn't want to scare the kid off with the display of affection. This Roy- his Roy- meant the world to him. And losing him once was enough to convince Ollie never to push the kid away again.

"It's ok. Let's get you to base, then we can go home." Ollie replied.

"Mumph…mpfh…" Roy mumbled again. Ollie smirked at the kid, understanding what he was grumbling about.

"After we get you patched up. Besides, movies don't look as good when you can't keep your head up." Ollie joked to the kid as he nuzzled the still slightly arrogant kid.

"What?" Lex growled.

"He took a bad spill during a mission. We are receiving some unsettling data from the chip." His secretary replied. Lex didn't like what he was hearing and quickly sat up in his chair, ready for the worst.

"Explain." The CEO demanded.

"The vital signs were altered for fourteen minutes, and Roy's seem to have stabilized. The project's have not. They are continuing to accelerate." His secretary said. Lex stared at her for a moment, taking everything in.

"Which means?" The CEO demanded.

"Regression is imminent."

Ok… didn't mean to use the secretary this much… so… might want to think of a name for her soonish. Kinda… I don't know. I'll think about it. That might be it for her though.

Sorry MLA, but I had to rewrite something. This worked better for what I have planned.