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ROY WOKE UP TO SOMEONE POUNDING ON HIS DOOR. His first thought was Jason, it's Jason, and then the anger set back in, and it ended with 'I'm going to kick his ass'.
The pounding continued. He groaned, walking towards his front door, looking through the peephole.
His eyebrows shot up as he undid the lock, opening the door.
Helena stumbled through, her hair curling, slamming the door behind her.
"Helena," Roy blinked. "What are you doing here?"
Whatever fatigue he had faded away in an instant. Having one ex knock at your door was coincidence. Two in a week? That was asking for trouble.
"I wouldn't come unless I had to, Roy," Helena's eyes were panicked. "It's Jason."
Having your ex mention your other ex? About twenty alarms went off in Roy's head.
Roy's eyes narrowed. "What about him?"
"You were with him, right? Last night?"
"That's none of your business." Roy turned away from her, walking away from her. From Jason. From everything.
"Roy," Helena inhaled, "Bruce . . . he wants me to kill Jason."
"What?"
"Bruce, l-last night," Helena went to her back and pulled out a crossbow, "he gave me this."
"Jesus, Hel," Roy ran a hand through his hair. "Jason -- he's --"
"Innocent? That's what I thought too. But Bruce, he's convinced that Jason did it -- "
"Or Bruce has completely lost his mind," Roy replied firmly, his eyes dark, "Jason would never do something like that."
"Are you sure about that?"
Roy's gaze flitted downwards.
"She's your goddamn sister. And she's the only person who can help you right now. Apologize."
"Roy," Jason held his shoulder, looking him dead in the eye. "She could go to hell for all I care."
Cass's words echoed in his head.
"Some great brother you turned out to be."
Helena's hand was on his shoulder. "Roy?"
Roy's voice cracked. "He wouldn't."
A voice in his head said otherwise. 'He left you. Again.' It said, 'How was this any different?'
Roy's voice went feral. "Because Damian is his family. And so is Cass. I was there with him, we were walking away from his apartment when we heard the shot. Jason would never hurt a kid, no matter how much of a brat he is." Roy's gaze locked with hers. "Jason Todd is innocent."
Helena smiled.
"What?"
"You passed the test," Helena said. "Now, he needs your help."
⚪⚪⚪
JASON TRUDGED THROUGH THE SAND, TIGHTENING THE SCARF AROUND HIS MOUTH. The dunes are tough terrain -- but Jason's tougher.
That is, until twenty assassins surfaced from the dunes of dust.
"You have got to be kidding me." Jason whipped around, finding himself surrounded on all sides, by masked assassins garbed in the same dusty yellow of the sand.
Jason reached for his gun by his side, taking the grip in his hands. In return, the assassins all pulled out twin swords, slicing them through the air, and aiming at Jason's chest.
But one didn't. Jason tilted his head in the unarmed assassin's direction. The clothes on their form were loose, but he could make out the shadows of a woman.
"Talia?"
"Tell me," Talia al Ghul pulled out her own sword, stepping forward and placing it below his chin, lifting his face to meet hers. "Tell me why you almost killed my son."
"It wasn't me."
Talia's laugh was distinguishable even amongst the harsh sands whipping between them. "Why don't I believe you?"
"If you didn't," Jason's voice was slow, "I'd be dead already."
Talia's gaze faltered for a second, and she muttered something in a foreign language to the others, and they lowered their weapons. She reached forward, wrenching his gun out of his grasp. Her sword lowered to his chest. "We move. To Ra's."
Jason found himself being guided through the dunes, Talia occassionally barking orders to her inferiors as her blade pressed into his back.
Soon, he found himself looking up at the al Ghul towers. Jason gaped at the construct, stopping.
Jason Todd was not brought up in wealth. Even after he was adopted by Bruce, he hated living with him. Bruce's mansion was huge and bellowing and all around intimidating just like its owner -- but this -- this was much daintier. Pyres, turrets, banners curling in the wind -- completely impractical in this climate and yet -- completely mesmerizing.
Roy would have loved to see this.
Talia's sword in his back reminded him of where he was. "Keep moving, Jason."
He grit his teeth, placing his hands on handles of the door and pushing them open.
The inside was as beautiful as the outside, except less rugged and weathered. He would have taken the time to appreciate it more, but the butt of the sword hitting his head had other ideas, as his vision went black.
Jason hated sleeping. Especially without a gun in his hand. He's never slept without one.
No, a voice in his head said, not always.
And for once, he didn't have the strength to argue with himself.
You're right, he replied, there was always Roy.
There was always Roy. Roy, who had stuck by his side even when he was (always) a dick; Roy, who kissed him that night when Jason was in the hospital, under those harsh fluorescent lights and blood between their teeth; Roy, who he's hurt more times to count; Roy, who he'd give anything to keep safe.
Jason thought of him now, safe now that he was well away from him. Safe. That's all he ever wanted for Roy. That's what he deserved.
Jason fell into a dreamless sleep, a single thought repeating in his head like a mantra:
