Something cold, wet, and a little bit scratchy brushed along the side of Jason's face, swiping gently from his temple down to just under his right eye. The sensation brought him back to the land of the living. His eyes fluttered open and the wet thing floated away. He found himself looking at a ceiling fan circling overhead. His eyebrows knit together. He didn't have a ceiling fan….
Where the hell-oh right. Roy. He vaguely remembered the archer showing up before he lost consciousness. He started to sit up until he realized everything hurt. His shoulder, his knee, his chest, his head. He groaned and gave up, letting his body sink back into the cushions again.
Roy was kneeling down next to him, holding a wet rag in one hand and balancing a bowl of cloudy water on his knee with the other. "Well welcome back," he greeted Jason with a lopsided smile. "How you feelin'?"
Jason brought a hand up to his head. "Headache."
"Yeah, I bet." It sounded almost like a laugh. "You're helmet was trashed, man." Roy stood up, tossed the rag at a hamper, and walked to the kitchen to pour the bowl of saline solution out. "You hungry at all, Jaybird? I'm no you, but I can cook well enough to survive. I've got eggs and pasta."
"No thanks," Jason mumbled. "Not hungry."
Roy walked back over to the couch and leaned over the back, resting on his arms. He breathed in deeply as he regarded Jason. Then he scrunched up his nose. It smelled like old sweat and blood and something else that was entirely Gothamesque. Soot? Or maybe burnt rubber? It wasn't a great smell. "Hmm…" He pushed himself of the sofa and started walking around to the front. "You should probably take a shower." Jason didn't respond, so Roy bent down and put a hand on the younger man's arm. "You with me, Jay?" Jason jumped with the hand and he looked up at him with a dazed sort if look. "You okay, bud?" Roy asked, his voice full of concern.
Jason shook his head quickly, trying to shake off the foggy feeling that was starting to consume him. "Sorry. I'm okay. What'd you say?"
Roy grimaced and said, "No need to apologize, Jay. And...it's okay if you're not okay." He gave Jason's arm a squeeze before standing up. "I just said you should probably take a shower. Then I can get you all patched up and in a bed. Sound like a plan?" Roy extended his hands to help Jason up.
"I...sure." Jason took the offered help and let Roy pull him up off the couch. As soon as he was standing, Roy let go. Jason sighed and immediately started listing off to the side.
Roy quickly hooked a hand under one of Jason's arms, steadying him. "Hey, man. You gonna be alright?" Roy studied the way he seemed to sway. "I can draw up a bath instead?"
Jason shook his head. "No, sorry. I'm okay. Just...stood up too fast I think. I'm fine."
"If you're sure..." Roy let go but stayed close while he pointed out the bathroom. "The water might take a bit to warm up again. If you turn it on I can go get you some clothes and a towel." Jason nodded and walked off, while Roy noted he was favoring his left ankle. He then wandered into the bedroom and pulled out a pair of boxers, some old sweats, a Coca-Cola t-shirt, and a towel. It all came from a pile of clean laundry he'd said he was gonna fold last week.
Roy went back and rapped on the bathroom door. "Jay? Can I come in?" The door opened a second later, Jason standing in the doorway. "Here's a towel, and some clothes." He handed the bundle of items over. "I've got a shirt if you want it," he said holding it up as evidence, "but you can decide if you want it after we wrap your chest. Also make sure you check yourself over for other injuries so we can get everything taken care of. Even if it's something small like a sprained ankle. I don't want to go down the list to take inventory, but I will."
"Yeah, okay." Jason put the items on the counter.
Roy gave him a nod of approval. "Okay. Well, give a shout if you need anything." Roy closed the door. It was thrown open a second later however and Roy poked his head back in. "Also please don't fall." He closed the door again and left Jason to his own devices.
Jason turned around back towards the mirror. He waited, listening to the still cool water spray against the shower curtain and tub. He just stood there in front of the mirror, staring at his own reflection. He focus honed in on his chest. At the gaping hole in his armour. The red bat was gone and all that was left now was a slather of red bruises, changing over to purple. He touched the tender area with shaking hands and swallowed down the tightness that was growing in his throat.
Steam started creeping down from the top of the mirror, obscuring his reflection. He blinked a few times and shook his head, trying to get away from his thoughts. Then he grabbed the bottom hem of his armour and tugged it up over his head. He stared at the material in his hands and felt a dagger twist painfully into his heart. He grew hot with anger. How could Bruce take his own symbol from him?! He crumpled the armour into a ball and raised the offending material, intending to throw it. But his own voice invaded his thoughts. I don't know what you were expecting. You broke your promise. You deserved this. The anger dissipated, replaced by something else that made his stomach twist and his chest ache. Jason let his uninjured arm drop back down and let the shirt fall from his hand.
0000000000000000
Roy grabbed the first aid kit out of his room and set it down on the kitchen counter before pulling out a pitcher of water and pouring himself a glass. He chugged it and set the glass in the sink before gripping the edge of the counter and closing his eyes. He needed to think.
It had been less than twelve hours since he'd left Star City. He'd been helping Ollie, Dinah, and Emi with a case over the past week. They'd found Ollie's missing friend, Emiko took on the name Red Arrow, and Dinah was gonna be moving in with Ollie soon. Mission accomplished, he'd said his goodbyes and had been looking forward to coming home to his place in Manhattan. Ready for a nice long weekend of relaxing.
He'd gone home, tossed his suit in the hamper, grabbed a Coke and kicked his feet up to watch the ball game. Star City Rockets versus the Central City Diamonds. The game had gone into an extra two innings, but the Rockets pulled it out in the end, winning 3-2. He'd never liked listening to the post-game interviews so he'd thought he'd change the channel to see what was going on in the world. Maybe channel 4? Their evening news team had a new weatherman who was super awkward. His name was Michael Thomas. He was young and he wasn't that bad looking a guy, but Roy didn't really care about any of that. He just liked him because he couldn't help but laugh at the poor kid in his oversized, untailored jackets and his way too wide ties, and his glasses that made him look forty. It made him look like a kid playing dress up. The guy really needed to stick to a skinny tie and maybe invest in some contacts or some of those BCGs hipsters were wearing these days. And maybe he could have better jokes.
He input '004' on his remote. When the receiver had changed over to the right channel, the breaking news banner hadn't fazed Roy in the least. It seemed like everything was breaking news these days. He tilted his head back to drink the last of his beverage.
"-GCPD on a high-speed chase through downtown Gotham after notorious kingpin Oswald Cobblepot, also known as the Penguin, was gunned down by the vigilante known as Red Hood-"
Roy had damn near drowned to death choking on the soda. Yeah, okay, that had been breaking news. Shit.
They showed the replay of Jason shooting Penguin. They played it on a loop with the news anchor voicing over. Roy had a 4K TV so he saw it in gruesome detail. The more they played it, the more he saw. Penguin saying something to Jason. Jason's hand shaking. The blood spray. Oswald Cobblepot falling to the ground. He'd seen what nobody else would see because nobody else would think to look.
Jason had missed.
Point blank range and he'd missed. Jason had pulled back at the last second. It wasn't going to be fatal. Roy was about ninety percent sure of it, so he'd grabbed his costume out of the hamper and quickly changed over. He heard the news lady report that Penguin was still hanging on to life, getting rid of any lingering doubt. If Jason had wanted someone dead, they would be that. Dead.
Roy had called Donna immediately, telling her to bring the Titans jet because he needed to get to Gotham ten minutes ago. And she hadn't asked questions. She'd seen the news as well. He assumed everyone had seen it. He also assumed that they would be the only ones willing to help.
They'd gotten within range just in time to see a figure, which had to have been Jason, get pushed out of a partially invisible building onto a roof. The building had popped out of existence and even from a distance he'd been able tell by Jason's body language that he was devastated. Like someone had died.
As they'd drawn nearer they saw Jason throw a kick. It had been a poorly executed kick if he'd ever seen one. Jason had looked like a trapped animal. And a moment later Batman had knocked him out with a single blow before walking over and ripping the red bat off Jason's chest. Roy had told Donna to stop near the roof and he jumped out, firing one of his smoke screen arrows, quickly followed by a taser arrow.
As soon as they'd gotten Jason, they'd gotten the hell out of dodge. She'd dropped them off near his place, but she couldn't stay. She was still on probation as mandated by the League. She'd taken a risk agreeing to help him. He owed her big time.
Roy startled when Lady Gaga started singing "Bad Romance" from his pocket. It was a personalized ringtone, set by the caller without Roy's knowledge. His heart settled back down as he fumbled for his phone before answering. He barely got a chance to say a greeting before the caller was shouting his ear off, asking a slew of questions.
"Jeez! Slow down, Dick. Yes. He's here. He's in the shower. And I don't care. Wait! Actual-" He pulled the phone away from his ear. "Mother fu-You hung up on me? Prick." He dropped the phone on the counter and looked at the clock. It'd been a good fifteen to twenty minutes since he'd left Jason in there….
He strode up to the door and knocked. "Jaybird? You alright in there?" God. He felt like an overbearing mother.
Until he didn't get a response.
"Jay? You okay?"
He listened for a tick before deciding he was just gonna go in.
Steam billowed straight into his face and invaded his lungs as soon as he pushed the door open. He coughed, trying to wave the steam away form his nose and mouth. "Jason?" He pulled the shower curtain open. Jason was just standing there, staring into nothingness, and his skin was red from the too hot water. "Jeezus, Jay! Okay. That's enough shower." Roy turned the water off, aggressively popping the knob back into place. "Unbelievable," Roy muttered to himself. "Here." He grabbed a towel off the rack with one hand and grabbed Jason's wrist with the other, shoving the material into his hand. "No more autonomy for you, buddy. At least, not right now." He grabbed the younger man's chin and forced him to make eye contact. "Hey. Look at me." He snapped his fingers in front of the younger man's face and waited for actual eye contact, some semblance of alertness. He sighed and took a step back. "Okay. Listen up. You're gonna dry off. Then you're gonna get those boxers and sweats on and come let me patch you up. I'm assuming you didn't do an inventory so we're doing it by the numbers. Also, I feel like you should know Dick is on his way here." Jason became more alert in an instant. The look in his eyes was almost fearful, like he was considering running. "Easy. He's not coming to take you away. He's worried and wants to make sure you're okay. Understand?" Jason nodded slowly, but he was still confused. "Good. I'll be by the couch."
Roy shut the door and his phone started singing again from where he'd left it in the kitchen.
He dashed over and swiped it from the counter, hitting the green circle. "Hey." He listened and answered, "Seventh floor. Second door on the left. It's open so just come in." He hung up and placed the phone back on the counter. Then, heaving a heavy sigh, he ran his hands through his hair, trying to soothe an anxious feeling in his gut.
