Working With Red

Indecision and Apprehension

Updated: 2021.08.19

The two of you sat in the car for another hour before either of you dared to speak. You'd finally calmed down enough to think clearly, but your breathing was still greatly uneven and you had mascara streaked all down your face; not that you really cared at the moment. You hadn't looked at Roy since you'd broken down, and you still couldn't find the courage to do it. Instead, you chose to look at the dark and dirty warehouse through the windshield, the side of your head resting against your knees as you thought about how Roy was going to respond.

Roy, on the other hand, was in no way calm. He was a mess, mentally. His head was overflowing with what you'd just told him, and he still hadn't tried to make any effort to console you, or even respond. His mind was in turmoil over three things in particular.

The first was the fact that your mother was Poison Ivy. It almost made sense to him after a little while, because now he had a clear understanding of why you hadn't bothered mentioning anything about your parents. Hell, you hadn't even really ever called that woman your mother, only ever referring to her as "her" or "she". He couldn't imagine having someone so horrible as a mother. No; to him, that word didn't seem to fit that woman. She didn't deserve such a title. "Birth-giver"; that seemed more likely. Your birth-giver was a despicable woman who had done nothing but terrorize anyone she ever came into contact with, and Roy knew this very well; he hated that woman. He absolutely despised her.

The second was that you mentioned something about behavioral issues. You had also mentioned you had been to multiple therapists, which made him wonder about what you were like as a child. If you really were as bad as you claimed-- and if Ivy had really affected you that badly--then how did you learn to deal with it? Did you? How did the kids you went to school with treat you? Did you bully and terrorize the other students, or did they all turn on you because of your family? Hell, did the other kids even know what that woman was?

Roy scoffed quietly, shaking his head as he let his mind wander for a split second.

'A little terror'? Who does that remind me of? He refrained from rolling his eyes.

The third matter was a little unsettling, and Roy shifted uncomfortably in his seat as the thought crossed his mind.

Your surgery.

God, just hearing him say it in his own head made Roy feel nauseous. The fact that you'd even had to go through something like that was heart-wrenching, but when you were only fifteen? It almost made Roy sick to his stomach to think a father would ever consider allowing his daughter to be cut open and fixed like that.

Had he even thought to ask if she was okay with that? Roy thought, shaking his head. Did they even consider the toll it would take on a fifteen-year-old girl? I mean, she can never have kids now because of that woman's mistake. How did she even feel about it after it happened?

Roy lingered on this thought for a moment before slowly glancing up at you; your attention was still fixated on the warehouse outside.

How does she feel about it now?

"Can I see it?" Roy suddenly blurted out, a look of shock immediately appearing on both his and your faces as you hesitantly turned to the redhead.

"S-See what?" You croaked out, your voice cracking from crying so hard. You watched as Roy hunched over in his seat, lowering his head to allow his dark red bangs to fall over his eyes. He was too embarrassed to ask again; he shouldn't have even said anything in the first place. It was too much. He wanted to take it back.

"Roy?" He flinched at your voice. He still couldn't look at you.

"I can't," he whispered, shaking his head. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything." Your lips parted as your eyes slowly trailed up and down his figure. The way he was sitting, he looked incredibly uncomfortable, which made you wonder even more why he wasn't asking the question that he obviously wanted answered.