Jason woke to a loud, tuneless rendition of Bohemian Rhapsody. He swore explosively. Roy should have been long gone by now. He sat up, only slightly dizzy, from where Roy must have dumped him on the couch, and stomped through the apartment, following the noise, to kick the intruder out.

Roy was sitting comfortably on the kitchen floor, a towel wrapped around his waist, red hair clinging to his neck. There was a plate of scrambled eggs balanced delicately on one knee, and a mass of black metal mechanical bits spread out on the floor in front of him. He looked up as Jason stocked in and the song died in his throat. "Uh… mornin'."

Jason's eyes went wide. "What the hell are you doing with my tech?" he said, bending down to snatch it away. "You think that shit grows on trees? No one else has those designs, no one else but-"

"But who?" Roy said, blue eyes gleaming curiously. "Because they're surprisingly decent. Of course, I would never have designed them to be so volatile, with the conductors so near the shell, but-"

Jason stared at him in shock as he continued a long, convoluted rant about the flaws of the Batman's tech, tech Jason had stolen and spent weeks trying to figure out, trying to copy. And this guy knew how to improve them? After looking at them for a few minutes?

"Okay. Who the hell are you?" Jason interjected.

Roy looked smug. "Who's asking?"

"I'm- none of your business. You're in my house, you answer my questions." He crossed his arms. "And I never said you could use my shower."

"You call this dump a house?" Roy raised his eyebrows, looking around at the leak-stained, cracked walls and the peeling linoleum floor.

"You don't like it, you can get the hell out. Hobo," he tacked on, immaturely, but this guy was getting on his nerves.

"Hey, I had a place. And a job. And..."

"And?"

"And a pretty sweet arsenal of weapons."

"So what made you into a drunk hobo in Gotham?"

Roy bristled, choosing to finish the eggs before they got cold rather than grace this rude person with an answer.

Jason frowned when he realized and answer wasn't forthcoming. "Those eggs have been in the fridge for weeks."

"Thought they tasted kinda funny," Roy said, continuing to shovel them in. Finally he stood and stretched, adjusting Jason's only towel around his waist.

"Got any meds?" he asked. "I got a hell of a hangover."

"No," Jason lied crisply. "You need to leave. Put on some damn clothes and get out of my apartment." He stepped forward menacingly. "I don't know how much of last night you remember, but you don't wanna see how I can shoot when my vision's straight."

"Wait wait wait wait, just wait a minute," Roy said, raising his hands. "You got all of this shit in your apartment, obviously you're into the whole..." he hesitated, looking up at his host carefully. This thin young man with shocks of white in his dark hair could be anyone. Best not to use the word vigilante just yet. "Uh… hurting people thing. I can help you out there. I can make you a lot more of this shit, and better. I just a need a place to crash for a day or two. And a fresh set of clothes."

Jason scowled. The kind of guy who would waltz into someone else's apartment and use their shower was not the kind of entitled jerk Jason wanted to stay with, even short term. He liked living alone. If he had wanted people breathing down his neck, criticizing him, and monitoring his every move, he would have moved back in with Bruce. And that was never going to happen.

On one hand, this guy was just what Jason needed to give him an edge as Red Hood. Who else could do better than Bruce's tech? But he was a stranger. It just wasn't worth the risk.

"No," Jason said finally. "How the hell do you expect me to trust-"

A loud knock at the flimsy apartment door stopped him short. "Jason!" a deep voice rumbled through the room, barely muffled. "I know this is one of your safehouses. If you don't wanna open the door, I'll remove it."

Roy stood up, leaving the his plate on the floor. So that was his name. Jason. Currently Jason was pressing himself against the wall, looking like he wanted to disappear into it, his face sweaty and pale.

"Who is that?" Roy mouthed.

Jason just shook his head and pushed himself away from the wall, stumbling out of the room, which struck Roy as completely idiotic. Jason was probably too dazed to realize how much trouble he could be in. Roy adjusted his towel and stepped up towards the door, rolling his neck before pulling it open.

"Hyello?" he drawled, looking curiously at the very big, very well dressed man on Jason's doorstep.

The man frowned down at him. "This is Jason Todd's apartment," he said, absolutely sure of himself.

"Who's Jason?" Roy asked curiously, scratching his head. "You wanna let me get dressed, and then I can call the cops and tell them some weirdo is trying to knock down my door?"

"Wrong apartment," the man snapped, and turned on his heel. Roy thought he looked vaguely familiar.

Roy slammed the door shut. "I got rid of him. You can come out now," he said, and turned to see Jason standing behind the couch, his knuckles white around a gun.

"Well shit," Roy said, slowly pushing Jason's hands and the gun down. "Thought you ran and hid, Mr. Jason Todd."

Dread mingled with relief in Jason's expression. Bruce was gone, but this stranger- this stranger with a skill set that definitely wasn't normal- knew his name.

"I thought I was gonna have to..." he trailed off breathlessly, shoving his gun back into his waistband, looking at Roy with a dazed look that slowly settled into a clear-headed smirk. "That little act was actually pretty decent, for my well-being. But now he knows your face. Maybe not so smart for yourself."

He dropped himself onto the couch. Either way, Roy was obviously a quick thinker, even as hungover as he must be.

"Who the hell was he?"

"Who the hell was Batman?" Jason snapped. "He's not exactly that hard to recognize, even though it is weird he's going around during the day."

Finally Roy remembered where he had seen the man's face before. It was in tabloids, on the news. "That was Bruce Wayne," he realized slowly. "Why the hell did you hear his voice and think it was Batman? That's not even Batman's voice. And why the hell would Batman be looking for you? And why the hell do you think you know Batman well enough to recognize a voice that's not even his trademark voice?"

When Roy looked back at Jason the gun was pointed right up at his face.

"He's not Batman, okay? You got it? I made a mistake, that's all. Tell anyone that he's Batman and I'll fucking kill you." The words spilled out of Jason's mouth as he slowly rose off of the couch, keeping the gun trained on Roy.

"Whoa whoa whoa, okay, you got it." So much for a place to crash for a few days, much less some kind of ally- what the hell did he think he could have got out of hanging out with Jason, anyway? No one in this kind of life had friends.

Roy left Jason and his gun in the living room and rushed back to the bathroom to pull on his jeans, leaving the much dirtier sweatshirt on the floor. He gave Jason a wary look as he came back into the living room, towel now around his shoulders like a blanket.

"Welp. You're welcome for saving your ass. Twice. See you around." He pulled the front door open and would have stepped out if Jason hadn't grabbed his shoulder.

"You are not going anywhere with that infor-"

Roy grabbed Jason's wrist and twisted, shoving him backwards into the apartment and slamming the door behind him before darting out into the street.

AN: I'm sorry about the sporadic (that's an understatement) updates, but I hope to have the next chapter up tonight or tomorrow!