repeatrenegade:

The hug was the last thing Roy had expected at this point. He didn’t deserve it, didn’t think he’d ever get it, especially not from Jason, not after what he’d done, not after the punch the other had just landed. But, when it happened, the ex- SEAL couldn’t do much but let out a deep, shaky breath. He knew he’d been holding it (that much didn’t come as a surprise) and with it, he found the strength to lift his arms, hugging Jason back with a grip that spoke just how much he needed it.

“Yeah, Bud.” And he hoped his friend would ignore the breaking in his voice. “I missed you too.” After a moment’s hesitation, Roy pulled back from the embrace, nodding as he cleared his throat.

“Shit. You have no idea how good getting wasted sounds right now.” The red head let a slow grin spread, though it seemed slightly reserved, his cheeks flushed with emotion. “I’d like to say I cut back but, you know what they say about old habits.”

Jason grinned, clapping a hand on Roy’s shoulder.

“Well, I just so happen to have a fully stocked bar back downstairs. Let’s get us down there, then I can have a crack at that lump of metal you’re calling an arm now.”

He punched his bicep as he turned away from him, all the emotions and awkward feelings gone, for now. They’d been brothers too long to waste time hating each other. Blood had been spilled for the other, by the other. There was no closer bond, regardless of how angry they made each other.

“You’re a prick, Roy. Can’t believe you weren’t dead.”

The lift was taking them down now, and Jason filled the silence with his usual means of inducing stress, perfected with Dick these last few years.

“I was sad, man. I won’t let you live that down.”

repeatrenegade:

Roy was so tired. Though he kept his hands pocketed as he walked toward the door of the roof, he wanted nothing more than to grind the heels of his palms into his eyes. His skin itched, and for the first time in a while, he had to chide himself for the thoughts that accompanied such a feeling. He hoped this fall out didn’t mean he’d have to stop spending time with the kid. Dick had seemed happy to see him at least, and if their movie night turned slumber party was anything to go by, he just couldn’t leave the boy twice.

At the sound of his name, the red head’s heart skipped a beat. He didn’t really know what he was expecting Jason to say, but he honestly hadn’t expected his name to be said at all. Turning on his heel, though not all the way around, Roy watched his old friend continue to deal with him. Sometimes, when things got complicated, when feelings got hurt and he was tired (but he was always tired lately), the militant wished he had picked normal people to spend his time with.

Normal. As if he was some golden standard. No, not normal— but easy to talk to. People who said what they felt, and felt exactly what they said. It’s not as if Roy didn’t know how to interpret his friends’ words by now, their actions, but sometimes he wished he didn’t have to do the extra work just to understand; to feel better. He wished his friends were open books, more like him, but, on second thought, Roy didn’t want that at all.

Heaving a heavy sigh, the red head watched, listened to his rap sheet, to the debts he could never repay, and tried not to start walking away again. Tired, yeah. Tired made you sad. But, this. This was guilt, burden— this was all his failures— and that, that destroyed you.

And he was welcome to be Arsenal again? What is that? Some shitty party favor?

Roy didn’t want Jason’s goddamn blessing to be. He didn’t want the man to tell him he could have some shitty fucking name back. Welcome to be Arsenal again— as if he needed permission. The red head didn’t care about the fucking name. He wanted… Jason knew what he wanted. He wanted to be a part of the Outlaws, to be welcomed back into their weird, pseudo family, even at an arm’s length, even with a grudge. He didn’t fucking care about a name he—

And of course he saw it coming, with everything he’s known in life, how could he have not? But Roy had come into this expecting it, knowing he wouldn’t fight back, so he didn’t. He didn’t even roll with it, letting Jason connect with a sharp sound. The red head caught himself as the force sent him down, balancing on one knee, one palm supporting his weight, the other cradling his jaw. Slowly, he pushed himself back to his feet, stood straight as he worked his jaw a few times before dropping both hands back to his side. Gritting his teeth at the sting, knowing the hit had broken skin without having to feel the warm liquid oozing to the surface, Roy looked back at Jason with no real feeling. There was no other way to do it, because he didn’t know how to feel anymore. He could feel some type of anger rising in his gut, but he didn’t know who he was angrier at anymore, who he felt worse for, didn’t know what to do. So, instead, he stood there, as if waiting for Jason to hit him again, and right now, he half expected him to.

Hundreds of thoughts ran through his head as he watched the SEAL stumble, then stand without reacting. The broken man he’d pulled out of a burning hut in Africa. The vomiting mess as he’d come down off his morphine hangover, holed up in a hostel in Austria. Swapping conquests and stories of exotic locations and local women, ignoring Kory’s looks of annoyance. Clogging the comms with karaoke as she attempted to zap them as they danced just out of reach of her bolts. Even the nights when they’d black out, waking up safe in bed somehow, rum and whiskey still on their breath.

Numbness was plastered on Roy’s face, and with his pain came a release of emotions that Jason had managed to keep repressed for years. Stepping forward, he pulled Roy tight, clapping him on the back in a rare show of brotherly love. 

“I missed the fuck out of you, Harper.”

The smallest hint of a tear squeezed itself out of his eyes, and he released the shorter man and took a step back. 

“There’s lots to catch you up on, okay? Let’s grab a drink-assuming you still partake-and catch up before we go see Kory." 

repeatrenegade:

Betrayal? And what about Ollie— Roy flinched. His past with Ollie… that wasn’t fair. Ollie wasn’t the same as them. He didn’t mean to Roy what Jason, Kori and Dick had. The red head had never gone into much detail about it, he knew, but to compare his treatment of them to his relationship with the man he would never really consider family? Roy clenched his jaw but refused to truely react. It wasn’t right, Jason was missing the facts. But if playing that card would make him feel better, if that’s the story he believed, the reasoning he chose to help cope with the militant’s actions, if that’s who he thought Roy was after all the time they spent together, so be it. The red head wanted to defend himself, to explain— he had to escape from Green Arrow because living with Ollie was not a home and knowing his didn’t make him family, but he wouldn’t feed Jason any more excuses. Jason was hurt, and he had the right to be. Roy loved his family here at the compound, and though not by choice, he had left them the same way he had the place he abandoned by choice.

The hurt, the pain and the rage that manifested behind Jason’s piercing gaze, Roy was ashamed and he was guilty and he deserved it. Because this man was a brother, and this is how he had repaid him.

As Jason took a step forward, Roy lifted a boot clad foot, reacting on instinct as if to step back. He stopped himself, however, setting the sole of his right shoe back down on the worn cement roof where it was before. It was painful to hear Jason say these things, whether he meant them or not, but he didn’t deserve the right to be angry- to fight back. On Jason’s last words, however, Roy looked up, shock and hurt plain on his features. His heart jumped in a beat of anger but he refused to let it show. This wasn’t about him.

“Is that what you think? Man, I’ve done a lot of shitty things in my time on this God-forsaken dung heap, you and I both,” He shook his head. “But don’t you go accusing me of not caring cause you and I bother know that’s fuckin’ bullshit. It wasn’t true two years ago, and it sure as hell ain’t true now.” If he didn’t care, why would he even be here when it would have been so much easier to— No. He had said his piece. From the get go he had never expected it to go well, and if this was Jay’s answer—

“I told you why I’m here, Jay. If that’s not good enough for you, or you just don’t believe me, well, I don’t have any other explanations to offer you, man.” No more excuses to give. “I’m sorry— for everything. For leaving, for coming back, whatever I put you guys through, I would change if I could, believe me, I would give anything… But I can’t. I’m not welcomed back, fine. I get it, and I’ve always respected your decisions.” Taking that previously halted step back, Roy turned on his heel to leave.

He hadn’t chosen to leave them, and he didn’t want to leave now, but at least this time, Jason got to make the choice.

He’d chosen his words well; he saw them land with deadly precision, reflected in Roy’s face. Surprisingly, it didn’t make him feel any better about himself, or the years he’d gone through without his best friend and comrade in arms. The betrayal hurt, yes. But was it so hard to accept the man back? 

Jason let Roy’s words tumble out, let the man get the last bit of confession off his chest. It was hard to listen to, the confessions and apologies. He’d never been much on remorse, personally. What was done was done. It was this very philosophy that had his anger burning away, leaving cold reason behind.

“Roy.” His name stopped the man in his tracks, and Jason found himself face to face with him again. Up close, the SEAL looked even worse; new scars and marks dotted his worn face. Not even a hint of the humor that had so annoyed Jason was remaining; it was if he’d lost his very soul. 

“You’re right. You don’t owe me anything. Not for the detox, not for bringing you to Gotham, not for saving your life what, two times now? Right. We were warriors. We’ve both lost good men, both lost family. Death happens. I get it.” Drawing in a breath, he came within arm’s length of the redhead. 

“But that doesn’t mean you get to just disappear. You had too much going for you to throw it all away, but you did. I’ll never understand; but then again, we’ve always had our disagreements.” Another pause. “If you’re back-really back-then you’re welcome to become Arsenal again." 

Jason turned around, facing the morning sun. While bright, it wasn’t hot, something that made their rooftop conversation much more bearable. With thoughts of the sun came thoughts of Kory; with those, rage followed. How could he have left her like that? Jason, fine. But her? Weren’t they in self professed love? He remembered just how devastated she’d been, how much it had changed her as a person.

Spinning back around, Jason planted his left foot, throwing a right hook that caught Roy square on the cheek. 

”That’s for making Kory cry.“