Title: What doesn't kill me

Author: Alla B.

Rating: M for language and adult themes

Summary: Roy and Ollie's relationship first went sour two years ago, all because the man who was supposed to be a father figure decided his wards fate was no longer his problem.

My rendition of Snowbirds Don't Fly

Part 2 of 7

Dinah had come over as soon as she got the phone call. This had to be pretty important for Hal to be calling her at four thirty in the morning.

"What's the problem?" She asked, walking into the brunette's living room.

He offered her a seat on the couch, the worry in his face showing strongly.

"Roy ran away…" He said, pausing for a moment, "Actually… Ollie kicked him out. I searched the streets all night but I couldn't find him. He's sick Dinah; really sick…if he doesn't get help soon, I'm not sure how long he's going to survive out there."

"Well what the hell happened?" Dinah asked, "Why would Ollie kick him out?"

Hal sat down next to her. Dinah and Roy didn't know each other very well yet, which meant that in her eyes, he was still an innocent young boy.

"He's on drugs." He said, "Badly. I think that he may have a serious addiction to heroin."

Dinah was silent at first, sighing deeply and shaking her head. What kind of person kicks a drugged up teenager onto the streets?

"How long has he been gone?" She asked, thinking back to when she would see Roy with Ollie when he was still in junior high school. "Do you have any leads on his whereabouts?"

"Sort of, Ollie and I had gone out looking for him yesterday evening; I guess that he had been missing for a few weeks at that point. When we found him in an abandoned warehouse with a couple of junkies we assumed that he had been undercover, maybe trying to get a drug bust. Since Ollie didn't worry, I didn't feel like I had to, but… god Dinah the kid looked awful… he was so frail, like he had lost thirty pounds, and he's a skinny kid to begin with."

"It never crossed either of your minds that he could be with the druggies?"

"I thought about it for a moment, but Ollie was just so calm about everything, I'm not even sure if he noticed how sick Roy looked. We managed to get him home with no problem, it wasn't until after I left that he tried shooting up again, getting caught in the act… I'm sure that he's back at the warehouse, if only I could remember where the damn place was."

Dinah sighed, shaking her head and looking at the ground.

"Damn it, Oliver…" She said to herself, getting off of the couch and looking out the window. She took her keys off of Hal's coffee table, signaling him to follow her. "We have to find him."

"No shit…"

"I'm not in the mood for your sarcasm right now, Hal… just get in the car and we'll see what we can figure out." She opened the front door, signaling for Hal to follow her.

"And how do you suppose we're going to do this?" He asked, "Are we heroes in this situation, or are we just citizens?"

"For the moment, we're ordinary citizens." Dinah said. "We aren't looking for trouble, or for anyone's arrest, we can deal with that issue later. All that we have to worry about right now is getting Roy somewhere safe."

Roy pierced his vein with the full syringe, a speck of blood finding its way into the needle. The rush of the drug hit him within seconds, bringing down his blood pressure and sweeping a calm feeling throughout his body.

That's almost the last of it… He thought to himself. It still didn't feel like enough; the drug helped ease the pain for a few minutes, but it just wasn't strong enough.

He looked up at his young Asian friend, taking a hit on a role of marijuana.

"What do you guys usually do for money?" He asked, "Other than steal, you know? Stealing just isn't for me." Being a thief would only make him feel worse about the world that he had become caught up in. He was supposed to be a hero, and heroes weren't thieves.

"Some people sell the shit they already have." One of the boys said, taking the role from within the small circle. "You don't have much with you, Roy, do you?"

"Not really… I got thrown out pretty suddenly, you know? I didn't have a lot of time to pack."

The boys gave an understanding nod, the young Asian patting him on the shoulder.

"I know you're new on the streets," He said, "But if you have no plans to be a thief, you're going to be in for a lot of disappointment. None of us guys want to do this shit; we just don't have much of a choice anymore. I don't steal because I like it, and these kids around here aren't fucking middle aged men because they want to."

He laughed slightly, shaking his head. "Man, what the hell did we do to get ourselves into this shit?" He said with a chuckle. "I know your life's hard, but what made you turn to this junk?"

Roy had begun picking at the skin around his nails, bloody sores starting to swell up from what was probably an infection.

The older African American boy sighed, individually cracking his knuckles one by one.

"It takes a lot of strength to ignore the shit they say about you…" He said, scratching vigorously at his arms and legs. "Man, I've heard it all, they try and claim that they don't say it to be racist, but you can tell by the look they get in their eyes. You know why they say the shit they do…"

Roy nodded, licking the blood off of his knuckles, the flavor of rusted metal meeting his colorless lips.

"Did either of you start this shit, you know… just to see if anyone cared… see if they even noticed?"

"Nah," The Asian said with a flick of the wrist, "I don't care much with the drama with parents. I guess I can see where you're coming from, being adopted and all, but as the years go by you learn not to care what the folks think. Take it from us, Roy; if that Pa of yours doesn't care now, nothing is going to change his mind."

"He's not my father!" Roy shot out, pulling another chunk of flesh out with his teeth. "I don't want you ever to refer to him as that."

He got up off of the concrete, his voice breaking slightly under the weight he felt pushing down on his chest. "Fuck…" He mumbled, massaging his temples. "Why do I have to be such a jackass? Maybe Ollie's right about me, maybe I don't deserve a family."

He filled a syringe up with liquefied heroin, plunging it into his vein. That was the last of it, and he had no more money. "I need more junk." He stated with anger, sighing in relief as the drug listed the weight off of his chest. His friends nodded, getting onto their feet and leading him out the door of the warehouse. "What do you guys plan on doing?" He asked, already knowing in the pit of his stomach what the answer was.

The boys didn't answer, just continued walking up the steps of the warehouse and out onto the street. The Asian boy pulled a pocket knife out of his pants, flicking it open with a click.

"The bastards have it coming," He said, "rich fucks shouldn't be hanging on this turf anyway."

Roy sighed, hardly managing a nod as he stayed at his friend's sides, scratching at his veins as he watched them hid out behind a dumpster, pulling him by the arm to their side.

"Stay quiet and keep calm." They said, peeking out the corner into the practically empty street. "There's a sorry bastard coming this way, he looks like he could have some cash on him, maybe a gold watch or something." He motioned for the other boys to come closer, signaling them to back him up before making a leap out from behind the trash can. "We don't want any trouble," he said, pocket knife in hand. Roy and the other boy followed his lead. "Just give us what you have on you and we'll be on our way."

The man gave a sly grin… He was large and muscular, dressed in nice attire.

"Calm down, punks…" He said, "I'm not looking for trouble, and I think I can make a deal with you all." He reached a hand out, touching Roy on the cheek. "Aren't you a pretty little boy?" He said, his smile widening as Roy pulled away, slapping him on the hand.

"Get the fuck away from me." He gasped.

"You boys need money, don't you, well, next time you try mugging someone, how about finding someone who isn't twice your size?"

The Asian boy put his mouth to Roy's ear, pulling him down to his height.

"Come on, dude…" He whispered. "Just take one for the team; he'll give us what we need."

Roy pulled away.

"Are you kidding me?" He yelled, "I'm not doing that!"

His heart was beating out of his chest and he was having trouble catching his breath; for once he couldn't tell if it was from the drug withdrawal or from the situation happening in front of him.

"I'm telling you, man…" The African American boy said, "You can do this now, or you can wait until the junk starts wearing off, because I guarantee that when the shit starts leaving your system and you have nothing to replace it with, you'll do anything for that hit."

The man once again touched his hand to Roy's cheek, gently stroking his chin.

"I've always had a soft spot for redheads…" He said, making Roy cringe in disgust. He fought back the tears that were building up, squeezing his eyes shut.

"How much will you give me for this?" He asked; his voice cracking. His friends put their hands on his shoulders, giving him apologetic smiles and gentle nods.

The caress of the man's hand moved to Roy's cheek, touching his thumb to his colorless lips.

"How's a hundred for you?"

The man stroked Roy's hair, his thin lips forming a grin of pure evil. The young teenager had wrapped himself up in an old, musky blanket; curled into a fetal position on an old tattered mattress. It wasn't until the dirty man left that he allowed himself to break down, burying his face in the filthy excuse for a bed.

When his two friends came in minutes later, they said not a word to him; just setting the bag of white powder next to his face. Without a second thought, the redhead grabbed the bag, looking around for a spoon that he could use to liquefy the shit that was fucking him up badly enough where he was allowing himself to be raped over it. He had left everything that he needed at Ollie's house… His lighter, his syringe… Even his bow was still there… How the fuck could he forgot that?

He was forced out of bed by the crippling addiction, dressing himself and attempting to balance on his rubbery legs. He was exhausted with fever and withdrawal, grabbing onto the concrete walls in an attempt to stay on his feet.

"Hey," The two boys said, the young Asian putting a hand on his shoulder. "You look pretty beat…"

Roy nodded, signaling that he wanted a spoon and a lighter. The boys agreed with no hesitation, helping him to liquefy the heroin. He filled a used syringe, finding it difficult to hold his hand steady as he attempted to find a vein that wasn't collapsed.

So much of him was just tempted to take it all at once… What was the point of living when this is what his life had turned into? He dug around his arm with the needle, biting his lip in pain and twitching slightly when he finally managed to find one of his veins.

"Roy, I think you might have an infection." The Asian boy said taking hold of the back of Roy's arm. His skin was discolored in some areas, oozing yellow and green fluid when he pricked it.

"I'm fine." The redhead said, pulling away from his friend. He was starting to get used to the pain of living on the streets; if anything, it was the one thing that made him feel normal again.

He was a freak…

A fucked up freak… And he was probably going to die…

It had taken Dinah and Hal a few hours to gain a lead on Roy's location. Drug addicted teenagers running away from home wasn't exactly abnormal in this part of town.

"I hope we aren't too late…" Dinah said, following Hal down the old flight of concrete stairs. Someone on the streets who knew Roy had seen him come down here with an older man; his arm wrapped around the teenagers shoulder. Dinah didn't like being a pessimist, especially during such a serious situation, but she couldn't help but doubt that they were ever going to find Roy alive…

"The doors locked." Hal said. Dinah rolled her eyes, letting out a stressed sounding groan.

"Get out of my way." She grunted, kicking the door as hard as she could. As she expected, it fell off of its hinges. "If that boy is dead…" She cringed in anger, "I will make Ollie pay."

They walked into the warehouse, kids as young as twelve years old were kneeling in puddles of vomit, stabbing themselves with rusted syringes. An old futon lay in a corner, covered in dust and stained with god knows what kind of bodily fluids… laying on the bed unconscious lay a young boy, face smeared with dirt and blood; greasy red hair grown down just past his eyebrows. The two heroes couldn't tell if he was breathing.

"Roy!" Hal called, rushing to his aid with Dinah right behind him. His breathing was slow and deep, but he was alive.

"He's burning up." Dinah said, putting a hand on his forehead. "We have to get him out of here." She pulled him onto his feet with Hal's help, eyeing the infected flesh covering his arm.

"Do you mind him staying with you at your house? I'll stop by and make sure that he's doing alright."

"Yes, of course…"

Roy awoke with no idea of where he was; his head throbbing and his gut on fire. His vision had started out blurry when he opened his eyes, slamming them shut again as the living room light hit him.

Half-blind, he grabbed a plastic bucked that sat at the end of the couch, attempting to vomit but only dry heaving.

"You're awake…" Dinah said as she came into the living room, once again putting her palm to his forehead. She stuck a thermometer in between his colorless lips, pressing a cool towel against his forehead.

Roy wanted to ask her what had happened, but he seemed unable to get any words out of his mouth. The last thing he remembered was being in bed with that dirty old man…

"You have a fever of 105 degrees… You can sleep here tonight, but I'm bringing you to the hospital in the morning."

The redhead couldn't argue right now… Hell, he could barely even keep his eyes open.

"I know you're tired, but I need you to stay awake right now.

Dinah wrapped a blanket around his shoulders, continuing to dab his forehead with the damp rag. His fever seemed to be getting higher faster than it was getting lower, and the infection in his arm was swollen with pus, looking like a large green bruise. His face was twitching and his teeth chattered, signs of withdrawal showing strongly on him.

"Do you want to tell me what happened?" Dinah asked, handing him a mug of hot tea. He looked like he hadn't had anything to eat or drink in days. "Why would you do this to yourself?"

Roy brought his feet up on the couch, wrapping his arms around his legs.

"I don't know…" He said, turning his head away from her. "Curiosity I guess…" Dinah put her hand on his shoulder.

"There has to be more to it than that." She said, "Roy, you have an incredibly serious problem. You're very sick, and I'm not sure you understand how lucky you are to be alive after this. You could have overdosed; you could be dead right now…"

"Stop trying to make it sound like anyone would care… Ollie would never even notice…"

"Is that what this is about?" Dinah asked, "Ollie loves you, he was just in shock; you know that."

"You don't know what you're talking about!" He sat the tea down hard; trying to hold back tears. "That man couldn't care less about me! I take care of myself over there! I do everything by myself over there! Hell, for weeks at a time he's not even fucking home! I have nobody in my life to turn to. When I ran away, all I wanted was to see if he would even notice, and he didn't! I was out on the street for a month wondering if anyone would ever care enough to notice!" He tried to calm himself down, covering his face and releasing the tears he had been holding back. "No one cares about me…" He sobbed, "I started shooting up because I needed something to make the fucking pain go away!"

Dinah wrapped her arms around Roy's shoulders, pulling him into her. Her eyes held sympathy as she allowed the young teenager to cry on her shoulder. She held him tightly; mother-like. His body was burning up from his fever. She had never seen him so weak and fragile, curled up in her arms like a frightened little boy. Roy truly felt that he had no one to turn to… that no one loved him…

"Roy," She said gently, using the damp towel to wipe his face. His eyes were red and swollen, and he looked embarrassed about crying in front of her. "How about you get in the shower and I'll make you something to eat? I'll call Ollie and have him bring you some clean clothes.

Roy nodded, looking down at the ground and getting up.

"I don't want to see him…"

"You two really should talk…"

The redhead said nothing, struggling to keep himself on his feet while he walked. His limbs hurt, his stomach was on fire and he felt like he was going to throw up… This was just about the last conversation that he wanted to have right now…

Dinah picked the phone up off the hook after she heard the water turn on, not even giving Ollie a chance to speak when he picked the phone up.

"Oh my god Ollie, what the hell is wrong with you, you selfish, dense bastard!" She yelled in a whisper. "What the hell could have possibly been going through your head that would cause you to just abandon Roy like that?"

She heard Ollie sigh over the other end of the phone.

"He brought this on himself, Dinah. I can't be chasing him around all the time; he's old enough to fend for himself and if this is the life that he's choosing to live—"

"He's sixteen, he might not need a babysitter but he does need a father."

"I'm not his father."

"You became his father when you signed his adoption papers! He's not a fucking dog; you can't just bring him home and expect him to care for himself! You were supposed to be taking care of him… showing that you loved him… he got absolutely no affection from you; he ran away because it was the only thing he could think of that might get you to notice him, and you didn't. How the hell could you have not even noticed he was gone!"

"Of course I noticed! What was I supposed to do about it? You should know as well as anyone that things like this happen when you're in the hero business. Sometimes you have to go undercover and be gone for a few days."

Dinah grunted in rage, her face turning red. "How can you compare being undercover to a sixteen year old being missing for a month? You never even bothered to ever look for him; what if something even worse had happened to him? For god sake, what if he had been dead?"

"Dinah, I can't be held accountable for that boys actions'."

She slammed the phone down, sitting at the counter and resting her forehead in her hands. How could somebody possibly be so uncaring? She shook her head and sighed, getting up and putting a pot on the stove. After opening a can of soup she went into her bedroom, grabbing some of Ollie's spare clothing and bringing it into the guestroom. How could Ollie just abandon him like that?

Maybe Roy had been right…

Maybe he just didn't care…