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SEVERAL HOURS AND A BUCKET OF WATER LATER, Jason was unfrozen and gripping onto a car door for dear life.
He wanted Killer Frost back.
"Roy," Jason called out, panic laced in his voice. "Could you, um, maybe lower the speed a little so we don't hurtle to our deaths?"
"What?" Roy yelled over the engine. "You want me to go faster?"
"Oh my god," Jason squeezed his eyes shut as Roy floored the pedal. Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.
Jason Todd was going to die.
In a stolen Porsche. With Roy Harper.
Jason felt like he was going to puke.
"I didn't die for this," Jason moaned. He was considering opening the door and flinging himself out of the car. But, judging by Roy's speed and Jason's odds, he was still going to die.
Roy let out a gleeful shout as he ran over a pothole, sending the car floating in midair for about two seconds before it plummeted to the ground. Jason's stomach lurched.
Oh my god.
Jason would be willing to take those odds.
He slowly unlocked the car door, his knuckles white on the handle.
And then: an arrowhead pierced through the roof of the car. The both of them jumped, looking at the projectile, just inches from both their heads. Jason tugged the arrow out examining it.
It's green. And ridged.
"Roy," Jason said, "it's Oli's."
Roy slammed the brakes, the car swerving to the left, taking up the width of the road. Roy reached back, grabbing a bow and a quiver of arrows.
"Whoa, Roy, what do you think you're-"
Roy was out of the car in a second, his face a blank mask. Jason was following him, a gun in hand.
He pocketed the weapon, before turning to Roy.
"Roy, what the hell?!"
Roy drew back an arrow, raising it to the buildings around them.
"Jesus Christ, Roy," Jason slid over the car's bonnet, moving closer to Roy. "What in the world are you-"
"What I should have done four months ago." Roy's not looking at him, but he has that look in his eyes - the one he makes right before he shoots.
"No-" Jason tried to wrench the bow out of his arms, but Roy moved out of reach. He growled, lunging at Roy, breaking his arrow in two.
Roy just notched a new one.
"Roy, that's your old man, what the fuck are you trying to do?" Jason broke another arrow, moving closer to Roy.
"Driving him away. Learned that from you."
Jason paused. "What?"
"I can't let him do this to me and get away with it," Roy's eyes began to water, "I can't, I can't-" Roy dropped the bow, falling to his knees.
Jason caught him before he hit the tar.
"Roy, it was just an arrow. He didn't know it was you," Jason propped Roy up. "He was just being a hero."
"But," Roy whimpered, "the hero is dying."
"Oh my god." Jason inhaled. "Oh my god, Roy, why didn't you tell me?"
A tiny sob was his only reply.
"When?" Jason questioned.
"The day. The first day you came up to my house for help. Which is why I punched you. I was just so-" Roy's voice caught in his throat again, another sob bubbling up.
"Hey, it's okay," Jason held Roy close to his chest. "It's okay. I got you."
⚪⚪⚪
JASON WATCHED ROY AS HE STIRRED HIS COFFEE IN SILENCE. "You hate coffee." Jason commented.
"I hated you."
"Fair point," Jason scratched the back of his neck as he cleared his throat. "Do you, um, want to talk about it?"
Roy's voice was tiny. "No."
"Okay," Jason said. "Okay."
"Shut up."
"Okay-I mean, yeah," Jason flustered. "I'm just gonna shut up now."
"Good."
Silence stretched between them, and Roy continued to stir his coffee.
Roy inhaled, making Jason look up. "The reason I didn't tell you, is because I'm not supposed to. The family . . . we try to keep things under wraps. Don't like press. Hate the public eye. Things like Oliver Queen and Green Arrow on the verge of death for four months brings up too much attention. So we have a small med bay back in base and," Roy swallowed, "got someone to impersonate Oli until he can come back."
"Jesus," Jason ran a hand through his hair. "That's . . ."
"Fucked up?" Roy supplied.
"Yeah." Jason laced his fingers together. "Who's impersonating him?"
"They wanted it to be me, but I turned it down. I'm not going to be wearing green again. Ever. So they gave it to Marcus. His real kid." Roy sounded bitter.
Jason bit his lip. "Roy, you know how much Oli cares about you. He wouldn't want you-"
Roy turned to his, his gaze fiery. "You didn't know him. Not like I did."
"Yeah, but I know you. You're stubborn, brash and impulsive and underneath all that you've got something a lot of us don't have."
Roy's eyes narrowed. "What? Stupidity?"
"Heart. You got a shit ton of it. Even found it in yourself to forgive me of all people, even after," Jason gaze flickered downwards, "y'know."
Roy was silent.
"Marcus? That guy? He didn't know Oli. Not like you did. I saw you trying to shoot just now, you knew all his moves before he even made them. Marcus? He's an amateur. You and I have been doing this since we were kids. He's got nothing on you."
Roy sniffled. "Okay."
Jason's gaze melted, his voice going gooey.
(He hated how Roy had that effect on him. Made him feel . . . things he thought were dead. It felt filthy.)
"Okay."
Roy laughed.
"What?"
"Talking shit about the guy made me a little better."
Jason chuckled, shaking his head. Roy's about to snark back with a 'your dying hyena sounds are improving', but Jason cut him to it.
"If you like talking shit, man, you're gonna like this guy."
