Volte-Face
Well, this only took three months...!
No more thank-yous, 'cause apparently people don't like them… Which is weird. (I've seriously gotten complaints. Are you people ashamed to be reading cartoon slash? Do you think your friends will catch you? I don't get it…) If you still want to be thanked, just say so in a review and I will give full thanks where due!
(Xment2bursX, dahling, you must tell me what kind of fic to write you for your birthday...!)
So remember, Kegan is the ex-Red X. (Just in case you forgot.) I think you people will like this chapter, or at least the beginning of it. 8D
"The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you; Don't go back to sleep."
—Rumi
When daybreak lit up the east side of Titans Tower, the sky became a perfect shade of orange at the horizon. From there, the color ebbed into vibrant reds, slowly meeting the purples and blues of night that the dawn meant to push away. The clouds, strung horizontally over the sun, were grey at the top, with underbellies lit up with pastel pinks and greens.
But the water was the most brilliant. In comparison, the sky was merely the background to the water's glistening, boisterous morning waves. Anyone watching would agree that dawn over Steel City centered on the beautiful bay that changed moods with the wind, not with the predictable sky.
And for the first time in months that Roy Harper saw the sunrise, his thoughts on the view were simple.
Why is the sun so. Fucking. Bright?
The archer groaned and rubbed his forehead, staring out through squinted eyes. He glanced at the clock, mentally cursing the ungodly hour and all the dizzying light that accompanied it.
He tried to sit up, but a wave of nausea rolled through his stomach and he forfeited movement, collapsing back against his pillows. He felt… better than yesterday, but still unhealthy. Karen's medicine could only do so much, apparently.
His eyes traced patterns on the ceiling while he tried to recall everything that had happened. He could remember Raven telling him more than she had intended, and Karen teasing him about Garth… and that was all.
He groaned again, head throbbing. Sickness just wasn't his style.
The subtle hiss of a hydraulic door made him tense, but the shadow made by the intruder was familiar. Roy closed his eyes as lithe Atlantean footsteps made their way closer to his bed.
A hand landed on the mattress close to his shoulder, supporting Garth's weight while another hand pressed against his forehead.
"I'm awake, you know," Roy murmured, squinting up at Garth. The hand on his head felt good, cool.
The prince didn't seem surprised. His lips curved upward before he said simply, "I know."
Roy stared up at him, not even trying to be discreet. He felt feeble but somehow relaxed, and unlike most of their conversations, no tension was in the air between them. It made Roy forget about Raven's vision; instead, his thoughts were on his teammate's features. The sunlight against Garth's face made him look like a porcelain Greek god, from his jawline to his lips to his dark eyelashes, which fluttered when Garth looked up to see out the window.
The Atlantean let out a low whistle, taking his hand away from Roy's head. Garth walked around the side of the bed and stood by the window, creating a black silhouette against the sunrise.
"You're lucky," Garth muttered, looking over his shoulder. "You have an east-facing bedroom. I can only ever see the sunset from mine."
Roy rolled onto his side, propped himself up on one elbow. "I'd gladly trade you."
"But, why?"
"Because the sun sucks when you're attempting to sleep…" Roy sighed, rolling onto his back again. "A comfy bed… No sunrise… Why did you get the awesome room?"
"Because—"
"And don't say, 'Because I'm awesome,' because that's lame, Fishstick."
Roy felt the mattress sink when Garth sat on the edge of it, flouncing across the entire end after a moment. Looking down at the Atlantean, Roy laughed; Garth was lying on his stomach, feet in the air, picking threads off the comforter.
"What?" Garth wondered, half-smiling now that Roy seemed in a better mood.
"Nothing," came the answer. Roy tried to sit up again and succeeded this time, with a little effort. "Why are you here, anyway? Are you the new wakeup committee?"
"I'm the new Is Roy Still Sick? committee, actually. Karen sent me."
"Oh?" Roy feigned interest. "And what are your findings?"
Garth shrugged, a bit more serious now. "You still have a fever, which sort-of worries me."
"Aww," Roy laughed, putting a hand over his heart. "I'm touched!"
"I'm not that worried," Garth smirked, reaching for a pillow. He hit Roy over the head with a tiny square pillow, probably from some fangirl, and sat upright on the mattress. "If you're well enough to be a jerk, you're not that sick anyway."
"Now I'm hurt," Roy sighed, throwing in some theatrics. "I thought we had something!"
"Fine!" The prince laughed, making a face. "Next time, Karen'll come in herself, wielding a glass thermometer to stick up your ass!"
Roy pretended to shiver and then continued his distraught overacting, as Garth went for another pillow. This time, Roy pushed his hands away but leaned too far, yelping as he started to slide off the bed. Garth went for the pillow again, and yet somehow Roy's hands found Garth's shirt; the Atlantean let out a low oomph as he tumbled off the bed, landing squarely on Roy.
"Can't breathe—" Roy coughed once everything was still, half-laughing. "—Fat fish!"
"I'm not a fish," Garth argued, but he was grinning. He propped his chin up on his arms, pointedly digging his elbows into Roy's chest. "And you weigh more than me, anyway."
"Is that necessary?" Roy whined, propping himself up on his own elbows. For a minute, he expected the nausea to hit him, but nothing came. It may have been due to the dark-haired prince laying on him, but he was beginning to feel better—his head was clearing and his eyes didn't ache, either.
"What, causing you pain for yanking me off the mattress?" Garth blinked innocently but dug his elbows in further, shrugging. "I think it's a little necessary. Don't you?"
Roy winced, voicing a quiet ow when Garth shifted his weight. It really didn't hurt, and Garth must've known that, but it didn't matter. This was just the gentle horseplay that happened when one of them was injured or weak, or somehow too damaged to wrestle and train. And Roy never had reason to notice before, but these kinds of moments felt a lot like… well, a lot like flirting. But this had happened before, just the two of them together, doing little things and making jokes…
Maybe Karen was right. Maybe Garth was into him. But then again, Roy hadn't noticed the flirtatious aspect to their actions before, so maybe Garth was the same way—maybe it was just regular hanging out to him.
Roy's attention came back to Garth when the prince flicked him in the nose, his pale features screwed up into a mocking expression. "Are you falling asleep, or something?" he asked, head tilted.
The archer wrinkled his nose, sniffing. "That hurt… I was only thinking…"
"About what?"
Roy let himself collapse back onto the carpeting, clasping his hands behind his head. "Maybe making dinner, for once."
"That's… nice of you," Garth said, suspicious. "What're you going to make?"
"I don't know yet…" He grinned. "I was thinking fish, mayb—Ow!" Roy squirmed when Garth elbowed him, laughing. "Do you, like, sharpen your arms, or something?! That's ridiculo—ow, stop!"
"Make another fish joke," the Atlantean prodded with a crooked smile. "C'mon, Roy, what kind of fish are you going to"—he elbowed him—"cook?"
Roy gasped with laughter, starting to shove his teammate away.
"Flounder?" Garth offered. "Salmon?"
"Steak!" Roy yelped, "I'll make steak, okay?!"
There was a moment of silence, and then Garth laid his arms across Roy's chest, chin on his forearms. "Steak works for me."
"Thank god," Roy sighed good-naturedly. He laid his head back against the floor again, closing his eyes. "Now I'm hungry."
"An appetite is good," Garth answered. "It means you're feeling better."
Roy shrugged; "I guess. What's Bee making for breakfast?"
"Bacon, sausage, eggs, French toast and those toaster-waffles for the twins." Garth moved to flick Roy's nose again; the redhead squinted an eye open and caught the pale hand. "It smells great," Garth finished, but his attention turned to the hand holding his. "You're really hot…"
Roy laughed. "I know, right?"
"I meant—"
"I know what you meant," Roy interrupted. He let go of Garth's hand and closed his eyes once more. "But you said I have a fever, so… Doesn't that mean 'hot'?"
"No, you're burning up…" The worried tone was back, and Garth's cold palm returned to Roy's forehead. "Have you taken your temperature recently?"
"No, but I'm hungry, and that's a good thing… Right?"
The Atlantean looked uneasy. "C'mon, we're taking your temperature."
"But mom," Roy whined.
Garth got up to rummage through Roy's bathroom cabinet, while the redhead himself stayed on the floor by the bed. Now that his human blanket had disappeared, his boxers and wifebeater weren't warm enough, and soon he had shivers running across his nerves.
"Mommy, can I have a blankie?" Roy asked when the prince returned, wielding a thermometer.
"Your bed is right here, you lazy bum…" Garth laughed and helped him up. "Here, stick this under your tongue."
"I know how thermometers work…" Roy mumbled, swathing himself in blankets once he was on his mattress again.
"…And don't talk?"
Roy made a face, but obeyed anyway. Soon enough, the thermometer beeped quickly, announcing a temperature of 102.7 degrees. Just as it went off, the door hissed open and Karen poked her head in, curious.
"High fever," Garth told her, saluting her with the thermometer.
"But I'm hungry!" Roy smugly pointed out.
"You're awake before noon, that's what's really amazing…" She nodded at Garth and he left, but not before grabbing a pillow that had fallen on the floor and tossing it at Roy's face.
"Bastard," Roy laughed, sniffing. He buried into the covers farther and suddenly noticed Karen's expression. His own face fell with suspicion, and he glared at her. "What?" he asked flatly.
"Nothing," she beamed, in a tone that clearly meant she was thinking about something. "I was just turning on the security monitors for this morning, and I noticed some quite playful teasing going on in here…!"
"That's what we always do," Roy said, rolling his eyes.
"You're right," she agreed. "One attractive man completely sprawled across another attractive man is a very common sight; I see it all the time!"
"He doesn't like me, Bee, leave it alone…"
She guffawed. "You were playing with each other! If he had been a woman—"
"And there's your error!" Roy sighed as he fell back onto his pillows. "He's not a woman!"
"But you think he's sexy…"
The archer didn't answer. He pulled the blankets up over his head, which made Karen laugh a little harder.
"Whatever, Mr. Denial. Breakfast'll be done in five minutes, and I expect you there, 102.7 degrees and all."
xXx
Kegan waited until he knew all of Titans East was having breakfast, and then he dropped into the air ducts from the roof. The whole crawling-through-the-ducts seemed old-fashioned, but walking into the Tower would require a few hours of looking over schematics and meticulous wire-snipping—why reinvent the wheel for a mission that he didn't want to do in the first place?
He found the room soon enough; the bed was the only messy thing, but it was obvious a man lived there. Of course, out of five bedrooms, only one would belong to a woman anyway, but the strange orderliness to everything reminded him of Robin's room, even of his own room.
Slade's scouting him for an apprentice, he realized as he put the first miniscule camera in place. Kegan had skimmed the file—Roy Harper, alias Speedy, with quite a pile of transgressions—and it really should've occurred to him before, that Slade was trying to take another Titan from his Tower. It had worked with Robin and Terra, but Kegan was bad to begin with and more of a freelancer than anything.
But usually Slade handled his own apprentices, as they were 'too precious' for anyone else to get involved. So maybe Slade wasn't actively trying to get this Harper kid to join him, but the man was obviously interested, or else he wouldn't be so paranoid about the placement of these cameras.
Kegan heard a noise and froze. No one came into the room, but he trained his focus on the cameras again. It didn't matter why Slade told him to do this, as long as he completed to mission and kept Michael safe.
Thinking of the man, Kegan checked his watch; Michael would go for a run and shower before he came over to Kegan's apartment, which gave him a little over an hour to get back. Plenty of time, as long as he actually focused…
He managed to finish in a matter of minutes, but was hesitant to activate the cameras. Some part of him felt bad for Harper, and he had the insane urge to get caught and tell the Titans that Slade was scoping their team for recruits.
So Kegan made Harper's bed. It was the best he could do without endangering his own life; Slade wouldn't know that the bed hadn't been made, but Harper would. Hopefully.
A blinking red light in the corner of the room caught Kegan's eye: one of the Tower's own cameras. Kegan waved at it—if Harper noticed the bed and watched the tapes, he wouldn't see Kegan planting the cameras, but he would see that wave.
Just leave already! a tiny voice screamed from the back of his head. Stop worrying about people you don't know!
Kegan sighed. Slowly, he turned on Slade's cameras and clambered back into the ventilation duct, finding his way onto the roof again. It wasn't like him anyway, to interfere with Titan business. He was retired from his career as Red X, and needed to stay that way.
Leave a note, SVP.