The GCPD had never been the most adept PD in the nation, Jason assumed, but they seemed to be picking up on all the clues Jason and Roy had seen. Something told him that they were underpaid for work like this. Batman didn't care about politics and borders, and in a city like this, he was sorely needed. The cops could never really bring justice.
Jason took a big inhale of nicotine, swinging his legs over the roof, watching the scene unfold below. He could see the Commissioner walking in, surrounding by officers, before barking orders to everyone. They were too late, and they knew it. Jason was sure they would be sending out teams, looking for a body. At least the Commissioner had the tech to be able to identify who that blood belonged to. Jason didn't have access to that tech unless he broke into the Batcave.
"Can I bum one of those?" Roy asked, trying not to think about what he had seen. A child? It didn't make sense. Why would a Gotham crime family bring a kid to something to brutal?
Jason soundlessly dug around in his jacket for the box of cigarettes he kept. Without a word, he tossed them to Roy. Roy swung his legs over the rooftop, sitting next to Jason. He watched Roy for a moment, as he cupped the small flame to the end of the cigarette. The orange light lit up his whole face, and his hair fell from behind his ear, almost catching.
Roy inhaled deeply, enjoying the feeling for a moment. He wasn't a big smoker, but he needed one after seeing that. He could feel his nerves settle. Although, a cigarette wasn't the thing he was aching for.
"So, what are you thinking?" He asked Jason, exhaling. In reality, his mind was going a million miles a minute again. All Jason wanted was another hit, another high. He felt bad for thinking it, but the ache was coming back to his ribs. And he justified it by thinking that he couldn't fully concentrate on the case while being focused on the pain.
"Are you coming down?" He asked Roy abruptly, not wanting to think anymore.
"Uh," Roy paused, fiddling with his backpack before setting it down on the gravel between them. "Yeah."
They didn't need words, they had danced this dance before. Jason started pushing up the sleeve of his jacket, in anticipation. Roy took another drag of the cigarette before fiddling around in the pack with the glass bottle again. Jason just watched, cigarette dangling from his lips.
"So what?" Roy asked again, pulling two fresh needles from his pack. "Marone?"
He pushed the needle in the bottle before turning it upside down and pulling the stopper down, filling the syringe up about half way. He took it between his two fingers before passing it to Jason. Jason silently cursed himself, for forgetting all his supplies back at the safe house. He didn't have a tourniquet, or bandages. But as he looked at the shining metal in Roy's fingers, he knew that wouldn't stop him. He took the syringe from Roy's fingers, which automatically went to his pack to fill another for himself.
Jason paused, noting he didn't even have antiseptic. He didn't care, he thought as he made a fist and plunged the needle down into the same bloody spot from before. He'd really have to switch arms soon.
"Could be," He said, through gritted teeth as he pushed the stopper down quickly, sending a jolt through his bloodstream. Roy had given him the good stuff this time. He could feel the heat in his bloodstream, pulsing to every cell in his body. As he pulled the needle out, he exhaled, sending curls of smoke into the air between them. He pulled his forearm up to his chest, trying to stop the bleeding, while watching Roy.
Roy had one leg up, knee to his chest, as he inserted the needle into his arm. Jason watched him concentrating on the liquid in the syringe. He pushed it expertly before closing his eyes and rolling his head forward, then back, then to each side. He pulled the needle out, before putting the cap on it and throwing it back into the pack. A small trail of deep red blood oozed out of his arm, trickling down. Jason had a weird thought that since he was bleeding, all the drugs were washing away with the blood. He wanted to hold something over it, to keep all the happy feelings inside Roy.
"Could be Falcone," Roy muttered, cleaning up around them before taking another deep inhale of the cigarette. "Kid could have been used as a bargaining chip."
Jason hesitated, "Looked more like an execution to me. Unless the kid is now being trafficked. Could be a kidnapping."
Roy bit the inside of his lip, feeling the fire pulse through him. His mind was clearer, he was better at this when he was high. He could think clearer, and so could Jason. He took another drag of the cigarette before flicking the butt over the side of the building, watching the little embers fall down to the cement below before fading out. He looked over to Jason, "I didn't see many signs of a struggle though. The kid was walking of his own volition."
Jason nodded, "The prints would have been different had he been tied up or dragged. But you can pick up a small kid like that. Why even bother leaving prints?"
"Maybe they knew the police wouldn't be a threat," Roy noted. Jason bit his lip.
"Maybe they want to be found," Jason said, wondering what the hell they had really just stumbled on.
"So that pretty much rules out Falcone and Marone, unless they are just getting super cocky lately." Roy paused, "Although I don't think either of them are training any weird assassin kids."
Jason perked up, hearing that. He locked eyes with Roy, both with matching expressions. Maybe the kid was an operative. That was the only conclusion in his mind.
"Are you thinking what I am thinking?" Jason asked, taking a breath of nicotine before pulling the cigarette from between his lips, holding it in between two fingers.
"The League." Roy responded, casting a wary glance down to the warehouse now filled with cops. He knew no cop in Gotham would challenge the League of Assassins.