A/N: Been on a romance rampage lately. If I had it my way, I'd have this story done in… three more chapters? And that's how it looks like it'll go at this point.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
The guilt ate him away.
It started with one cigarette.
He left the window wide open, winter winds whipping in and taking icy stabs at his naked skin. He'd left his shirt behind long ago, giving up after getting out of bed. He'd just screwed a minor.
As if he wasn't going to Hell already…
He let the smoke twirl off the end of the little white cigarette and tasted the tobacco on his tongue. It was all so twisted, so warped. He ran one hand through his hair and swallowed hard. He was going to Hell. Roy bit his lip and tried to fight how badly he was hurting.
He'd just had sex with Wally. A sick seed lay in the pit of his stomach, guilt, ache, sickness. He'd just made love to Wally West.
Oh Lord…
Roy drank in another breath of the warm smoke. It tasted so acrid yet so delicious. It all still tasted so sick. Just all of it. And he picked up another cigarette, dropping the butt of the first one out the window, watching it slap the wet streets from the night's rain. A flame from the lighter bit at it until the end caught and turned orange from the spark.
He was so sick. He was so, so sick. There was something seriously wrong with him. He'd just screwed Wally. He'd just fucked a fifteen-year-old. He knew he had a problem. And he sucked in more smoke, wishing it would just sting and burn his lungs until he couldn't breathe.
The cigarette sat between his fingers, waiting to go back to his lips.
Roy doubled over, a hand going through his hair again. He felt so sick.
He put the cigarette back in his mouth. The burning was so disgusting. The smoke tasted awful. The whole situation was so sick…
Then he went to the fridge to find the booze.
And it wasn't just because he'd slept with Wally. He'd wanted Wally for a while now and he'd felt so dirty just thinking about it, but hearing the kid moan and whimper under him-
It wasn't just about sleeping with Wally. The kid was asleep in the other room, so dazed and tired that he'd crashed about ten minutes after the whole ordeal. It wasn't just about Wally being the victim of the archer's lust and need.
West had seen him with Jade.
His throat burned as he threw back the first glass. Fire in his throat mixed in with the smoke in his lungs and the sink of sweat that clung to his body. The burn only made it more painful, made his stomach churn with repulsion. He thought he could die right there just of the shame.
This whole time, his head had been up his ass. He'd been clingy, keeping a deathgrip on Wally because he was so afraid the kid would leave him. The whole reason he'd gotten the speedster so close to him in the first place was because he needed love and he needed attention and he needed someone. But he'd betrayed him for a woman, an assassin no less.
He betrayed Wally.
Roy downed another drink, the taste like poison on his tongue.
The whole thing was just so toxic.
Wally trusted him. Wally respected him. Hell, Wally loved him. And all Roy could do was dream about how he would squeal and squirm and how good it would be to hear the speedster moaning his name.
Another shot burned down the back of his throat. He tossed the butt of the second cigarette out the window, wanting to retch out all his innards. He'd contaminated Wally. He used to be so damn innocent.
The archer looked at the tv where it raged with the sound of old reruns of the same damn thing. It muffled the noises in the bedroom. It was such an old strategy. He watched people move across the screen and saw the lives of nonexistent people move on, untouched, unscathed-
The glass shattered the screen in a heartbeat, Roy's heart pounding in his chest. The air felt too thick, the silence too deafening. He felt the ache in his stomach resume, the sickening guilt of knowing he'd just screwed Wally after the damn kid had walked in on him with a goddamn Shadows assassin.
But what he had with Jade wasn't love. None of that was love. All of her was just physical. What he'd done with Wally had gotten physical-
And he went to the heroin.
Roy had given up on the booze; it wasn't enough to take away the raw agony that was ebbing away at his mind. The cigarettes only fed the addiction, only spurred on the chaos in his head.
The heroin… The heroin made him feel better.
There was a board next to the one in the closet where he kept his bow and sheltered his arrows out of the public eye. He pulled open the closet and pulled the board off the wall, letting it clatter against the floor outside. And the little bags of the drug were calling his name. He could hear it through all the raging and pounding in his head, through the roaring of blood in his ears; he heard the drugs calling his name.
Roy…
Roy…
They sounded just like Wally.
It was eating him alive, consuming him from the inside out, taking his heart then mind-
The syringe was ready in a matter of minutes.
He blinked one jade eye open, then the next. And Wally found that he felt… exposed.
The memories came back in a flood. Roy's arms around him, Roy's warm body, Roy, Roy, Roy, oh, just Roy…
One hand reached over to search for the warm body that he figured would be lying beside him; they always curled up together. Roy's arms fit perfectly around Wally's torso, they even laughed about it sometimes when they were really drunk, saying Wally was more like a doll than a lover.
The bed was empty.
"Roy?"
He bolted upright. The whole apartment was silent, dead silent. And that was never a good thing.
There was a reason some of Wally's spare cash went to the power bill and that was because Roy abused the tv, leaving it on day and night just to keep some sense of humanity in the house, to know that he wasn't alone. It was one of the reasons Wally enjoyed coming over, just to keep the archer company other than to get covered in kisses before departing.
"Roy?"
In an awkward bend, he reached over and grabbed his briefs off the floor before getting up; the floor felt cold under his bare feet. And the whole place felt so… alone.
His head spinning with the sheer quiet and the lack of his boyfriend, he moved towards the door, pushing it open slightly until he could see Harper lying on the floor, unmoving.
"Roy?" Wally's voice was quivering, shaking with fear as he took soft steps towards the archer. "Roy, why are you- why are you on the floor?"
That was when he saw the syringe.
Even superspeed felt slow as he ran to the phone to call Dick. Bruce had the resources to help and keep it quiet. Wally was still hovering over Roy's body, his fingers ghosting over his chest for a short moment. "God, Roy, please be okay." His words shook as his whole body shivered with horror. "Just don't be dead…"
A/N: This was the fun chapter. Review?
~Sky