Chapter Text
One of the benefits of analog clocks is their sound. Some may argue that the gentle tick-tick-tick is in fact a draw back, but Jason Todd isn’t one of them. The soft reliability of the ticking of an analog clock isn’t annoying to him. It’s quiet, but persistent, both filling a space and grounding it in reality as it marks, second by second, the constancy of time.
Jason’s never liked digital anyways. He tends to go for analog things when he can, when it's not so much a matter of convenience or practicality as it is preference.
He's been listening to three different sounds for the last few quiet hours: the ambience of New York City traffic, the ticking of the clock, and the almost imperceptible breathing of those in the room. There’s been a lot of ticking. Approximately 18,540 ticks of the clock, over the past five hours and nine minutes, not that Jason knows that, though he could if he glanced to where the clock hangs on his wall and did the math himself. He won’t, though. His eyes haven’t left his couch even once.
Roy Harper is alive.
He’s there, just feet away, fast asleep on Jason's couch, with Lian curled up into his side. She’d started in his lap, with her arms around his neck, still in the same position as when she’d jumped into his arms at the ballet studio. She hasn’t let go of him since, even as they’d both eventually fallen asleep on the couch in June Ellington’s generously rented apartment.
Jason hasn’t let him out of his sight.
Lian’s slowly migrated in her sleep to be more next to her father than on top of him over the last several hours, though she has one leg still tossed across Roy’s lap. Jason had, at some point during the emotionally charged proceedings, sat down on his coffee table. He hasn’t moved since. He might not even know whether or not he was still breathing, if it weren’t for his own continued state of consciousness.
There is only one item in his thoughts.
Roy Harper is alive.
__________
Roy crashes for fourteen hours, that first night. Tim returns with the results of his tests about eight hours in. He doesn’t say anything, just sits down next to Jason on the coffee table. Jason doesn’t look away from Roy, even as Tim taps an affirmative on his hand. The tests are back. The man in front of them is Roy Harper, Lian’s father and Jason’s closest friend.
Jason already knew that. Nobody else would have had the answer to the question he’d asked him.
Tim’s affirmative helps, though. He can feel the back of his hand where his brother’s fingers had tapped the code. He can feel the presence of him beside him. Tim watches Roy and Lian in silence for some indeterminate stretch of time, then gently leans against his arm.
It's far more grounding than the tick of the clock.
Neither brother moves until Roy cracks open his eyes. He blinks slowly, scanning the room, then looking down at his daughter’s still sleeping form nestled into his side. Finally, he smiles.
“Morning, Jaybird.”
Jason could cry.
__________
Roy’s in the shower. Jason is nauseous to have him out of sight. Lian is still on the couch, fast asleep. She’ll wake up soon, though. Jason’s hours and hours of stillness have turned to a shaky sort of manic energy. He’s thinking half thoughts. He has no idea how he managed to communicate to Roy where the shower was. He has no idea what happens next.
He starts cooking.
Oatmeal will be fine. He’s not sure he can stomach more than oatmeal. Roy’s probably been on space rations, anything heavy might be too much. Is this his first meal back? When did he get back? What happened yesterday?
The coffee machine steams, hissing and bubbling quietly as the carafe fills. It’s Tim’s coffee machine. Tim started the coffee. Jason didn’t notice.
“Tim,” he whispers as the oatmeal starts to slowly bubble, “I don’t know what to do.”
“Me either,” his brother admits. “This is beyond the best possible outcome. I didn’t even consider it. I’m so used to the worst case that I—anyways. It doesn’t matter now, I guess.” The percolator hisses. “I guess now we just…keep going on anyways.”
The shower turns off. Jason turns the stove to low.
“I stole a toothbrush,” Roy confesses, stepping back out into the main room a few moments later. His hair is damp and his cheeks are flushed. “And I borrowed your razor. And also your clothes.”
“Anything.” Jason blurts out immediately. “Anything you need.”
Roy cracks a grin. “Thanks, Jay.” He joins them in the kitchen. “Lian still out?”
“Yeah. Oatmeal’s hot. Coffee in five.”
“Two.” Tim corrects. “I replaced the percolator. Yours sucked.”
Jason stands stupidly at the stove, oatmeal covered spoon in hand. Roy’s right here, in his kitchen, wearing his clothes. He wants to fling himself into his arms and cry like Lian did the night before. He wants to grab his stupid, perfect, alive, face and kiss him. He wants to crack a joke, he wants to laugh, he wants to just speak, anything.
He hands him a bowl of oatmeal.
Tim pours himself the first cup of coffee and shotguns the whole thing. “Be right back.”
“Sometimes I forget how fucking bonkers that kid is.” Roy shakes his head, staring after where Tim disappeared into the hallway. “Thanks for breakfast, Jay. And everything else.”
“Anything,” Jason repeats, shaking his head.
It’s Roy. It’s just Roy. Just talk.
“I can’t believe you’re really here.”
“Yeah,” Roy takes a bite, “you uh, you sort of look it. Even the oatmeal tastes like disbelief.”
“So disbelief tastes like cinnamon and cloves?”
“Yup. Cinnamon and cloves and that expression on your face that says ‘I don’t know how to handle this situation.’ It's a rare flavor, I’m savoring it.”
“I’m so prepared for grief,” Jason says, “that I don’t know how to handle joy.”
Roy blinks at him. “Joy’s a bit much for it,” he laughs awkwardly.
“Joy’s not enough for it.” Jason shakes his head. “You really don’t get it, do you?”
“It's not what I expected,” Roy shrugs. “I know you said that some kind of report came back about us or something but I don’t know what’s been going on.”
“Everyone thinks you’re dead, Harper.”
Roy swallows. “Everyone?”
“Everyone except Lian. She’s the only one who never quite gave up hope.”
“Even you?”
Jason sips his coffee.
“You know I’m not a hopeful person.” He says after a moment. “It’s been months, Roy. I—they had evidence. There was a funeral. Your family put up a gravestone. You were gone.”
“My family—aw, hell.” He breathes out. “I gotta—fuck, what do I do? Just call them? Shit, can you come back from the dead over the phone?”
“Oliver will be here any minute,” Tim announces, reappearing. “So I think that takes care of that.”
__________
They hear the approaching steps long before Oliver Queen bursts through the door.
“Roy.”
He stands up from his seat at the table with a shaky smile just in time to catch Oliver when he throws himself across the room. “Hey, Ollie.”
“Oh my boy, my son—”
“Hey, it’s okay, it’s alright,” Roy soothes awkwardly, patting his back.
“You came home, son, you came home—” Oliver sobs. Lian sits up on the coach at the commotion.
“Daddy?”
Jason grabs Tims arm and pulls him past them towards the door.
“I still need—” Tim protests.
“Let’s go, Tim.”
They end up wandering around an asian grocery store a block away for the better part of an hour, which is a particularly impressive feat given the shop’s shoebox size.
“I probably shouldn’t have left Lian.” Jason mutters to a shelf of instant noodles.
“Probably.” Tim agrees.
“I just thought that they needed some time without us there.”
“Probably.”
“Oliver is Roy’s business. It's probably fair for me to walk out on the Queen waterworks.”
“Probably.”
“Lian is Roy’s business too, they deserve some space—”
“If you end that sentence with ‘from me’ I’m going to hit you.”
“I—I’m not her dad, Tim. Roy’s back.”
The faces on the little panda snacks have never looked so accusatory.
“Roy’s back.” Tim agrees. “You’re still her dad. Jay.”
“But—her dad’s alive. She doesn’t need two.” Something pulls in his chest at the thought.
“Don’t be homophobic.”
That startles a laugh out of him. “What?”
“What, people can’t have two dads?”
“You know that's not how I meant it.”
A plastic bag crinkles. Tim crunches on something. “So you weren’t imagining tearfully jumping into his arms in the kitchen when he got out of the shower? ‘Cause that’s what it looked like to me.”
“I mean—wait, what the fuck are you eating? Did you pay for that?”
Another stick of pocky disappears. “I will.”
“Fucking rich people.” Jason mutters, and drags Tim to the register.
__________
Lian’s dad is here. She thought at first, when she woke up, that it was a dream. She’s had a couple of dreams like that lately. But it’s not, because he’s standing in the kitchen with Grandpa Ollie. He’s crying. She’s never seen him cry before.
Well. One time she has. He cried at her dad’s funeral. Almost everyone had.
But now he’s here. Her dad is here. He’s alive. He’s alive and he’s okay, too.
“Hey, sweetheart. You sleep alright?”
It’s the craziest thing that’s probably ever happened to her—her dad that everyone said was for sure dead just walking in one day like nothing happened. But now they’re just sitting in the kitchen eating oatmeal. Jay made it, she thinks. It tastes like the oatmeal he makes.
Grandpa Ollie hasn’t stopped crying. But he’s just crying a little bit now. Her dad’s hair is longer than hers is. He looks completely different and just the same.
Breakfast is extra sweet today. She thinks it's more than just extra sugar in the oatmeal.
__________
Oliver’s not the only one to appear at the apartment, though neither of their visitors are a surprise. Oliver leaves sometime in the early afternoon, after Jason and Tim return from their foray to the market with some odds and ends to go with Tim’s ill-eaten pocky. He leaves after Roy drifts off on the couch again, saying he has to go make arrangements and get things together in California. He promises to be back.
Their second visitor also neglects to knock. Dick drops his bag at the door and crosses the room in a microsecond.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Roy manages to wheeze out around his suffocating grasp.
“It’s really you,” Dick sniffs. “You’re back.”
“No, don’t cry, come on, I’ve been keeping it together this whole fucking time,” Roy complains, squeezing his eyes shut against the tears that are welling up.
“You came back, you really—”
“Come on, man, you’re gonna—”
“I don’t care.” Dick hiccups. “I don’t—you’re alive. You’re really alive.”
“Yeah.” Roy swallows. “I’m alright, Dickie. Promise.”
“Not if he keeps that up much longer,” Jason says. “He’s gotta breathe, Dick.”
“Only if you insist on it,” Dick sniffs again, squeezing one more time and stepping back. They both try to swipe at their eyes. Jason tosses a handkerchief at them that lands on Roy’s shoulder.
“You stayin’ for dinner, Dickhead?” Jason asks. His voice is rougher than usual.
“Yeah,” Dick smiles. It's a bit watery, but it’s brilliant nonetheless. “Yeah, I’ll stay.”
___________
Dick stays late into the night, but once the arrows on the clock have pointed up and tipped back over into the early hours of morning he takes his leave. He’s still got a shift in the morning, and if he waits until light the traffic will be worse. Roy lasted most of the evening, drifting off about an hour before Dick left.
Lian spent the evening glued to Roy’s side. They’re both asleep on the couch, just like the night before.
The clock tick-tick-ticks on into the night. Jason can’t bring himself to sleep.
Roy Harper is alive.
___________
The hours between two and five AM are really just an indeterminate stretch of time that is both much shorter than three hours and vastly longer than. It is sometime during this period that Roy stirs back to wakefulness. He’ll probably be sore from sleeping on the couch, Jason thinks idly, staring as the other man slowly sits up.
“Hey,” Roy whispers. “You’re still up?”
Jason nods wordlessly.
He manages to carefully extract himself from the sleeping nine year old’s clutches and slips away to the washroom. He joins Jason on the coffee table when he comes back. They sit there in silence.
“She cut her hair.” Roy whispers.
“You were dead, Roy.”
His face crumples. “I didn’t think—I didn’t think she cared that much, Jay. Enough to cut her hair for me? People only ever did that when it was somebody really close, y’know?”
“I don’t think I do, actually.” Jason says. “What are you talking about?”
“Cutting your hair when someone dies.” He puts a hand to the ends of his own red-gold locks, longer now than Lian’s. “That’s what people used to do, when I was a kid. Back in Spokane. Not everybody, but…some people. Mostly the really close ones. I didn’t…I didn’t think Lian would even know about that.”
“Oh,” Jason’s eyes shift from his friend to his daughter’s sleeping form on the couch. “I don’t think she did. She said—well, she said she’d cut it in order to look like you.”
“She wasn’t even talking to me, before I left.” Roy says a few moments later. “She kept sending me these prewritten scheduled emails. I replied to every single one anyways, but I don’t think she was reading them. It’s pretty clever actually, I think she was writing out a whole storyline about her roommate’s first crush. I wonder if any of it was true.”
“Well, now you can ask her.”
Roy rests his head against Jason’s shoulder.
“Thank you, Jay. For taking care of her. I—I just about passed out when you said she was alright.”
They fall into silence. Jason doesn’t even twitch. He’s afraid Roy will move if he does.
“It’s been months,” Roy finally continues, “all those months cramped up in that damn ship just trying to get home and I didn’t know what had happened to her. The message we got didn’t say anything, just—just that there was an emergency with Lian and to come home. And I just didn’t know. If she was hurt, or—or worse and I—” he breaks off, swallowing thickly. “I was so scared, Jay. Of what might’ve happened to her.” He whispers. “And then when we finally made it I was locked out of everything and I couldn’t get in contact with anybody and she wasn’t where I’d left her. But it was such a relief when I realized that Jade had cleaned her out of the school records, ‘cause at least that meant she was alive—” Roy’s voice cracks again. “So I figured, ‘I can count on Jason,’ and called in an unmasked favor to get to New York. I didn’t have a plan or anything,” he confesses. “I just came straight to find you.”
“So did she.” Jason says. “I didn’t bring her here, Roy. I didn’t take her out of school. Jade didn’t either.” He pauses. There’s no possible way to tell him that won’t completely shatter Roy. How can he say it? How can he possibly phrase it? It doesn’t matter. There is no way when it's the truth itself that will be what twists the knife. Why does this task fall to Jason? It should have been Oliver. It could have been Dinah, or Jade, or one of Roy’s siblings, or—but it doesn’t matter. It’s fallen to Jason regardless. He can’t keep it from him now.
“What is it, Jay?” He sounds so worn.
“There was…something operating at the boarding school.”
Roy stiffens beside him, sitting up straight.
“What?”
Jason tips his head back to look at the ceiling. He can’t face them—either of them.
“There was a trafficking ring operating at the school, Roy.”
Only Lian’s quietly sleeping form on the couch contains her father’s anger and silences his tears.
___________
Roy is shattered–no, he’s beyond shattered. If he were a piece of glass originally, he thinks he’s been crushed back down into a pile of sand. He feels sick. Sick with guilt, sick with rage—
This is all my fault. I left her there. I left her alone. I left her alone and—
“Harper.” Jason makes him look at him. “You did your best. There was nothing there when you looked into the school. It’s not your fault. You were in space.”
“I shouldn’t have gone. There was no point–we completely failed and Lian—Lian—”
“You didn’t know that you were going to fail, Red. You were trying to save lives.”
“I didn’t, though.”
“You still tried.”
“It wasn’t worth it.” Roy whispers. Lian sleeps peacefully just feet away from him. His daughter. The most important thing to him in the world. She’s everything to him.
“Jason.” His nails dig into his palms. “I want them dead.”
“Jade took care of it.”
He breathes out slowly. “Good.”
___________
The second full day ends up being a quiet one. They have breakfast, just the three of them. Lian remembers a book report she has to finish and spends the morning on the sofa with her classroom issued paperback and Roy. He’s getting quite familiar with Jason’s couch. Jason putters around the flat trying desperately to get his head screwed back on straight. Well, as straight as it's ever going to be with Roy Harper across the room.
Jason throws a casserole into the oven for lunch. They don’t taste like ashes anymore when Roy is sitting across the table from him, backlit again by the afternoon sunlight.
Lian is once again ensconced at the counter with her homework, book finished, while Jason and Roy work through the dishes Jason’s neglected for the last two days. Sue him, he’s been a bit preoccupied. It’s quiet enough for him to hear his landlady’s footsteps in the hall.
“Jason, honey,” June knocks on the door before stepping inside. “Why don’t you all have dinner downstairs tonight. You’re dead on your feet and I want to meet your friend.”
Roy drops his glass, wide eyed. Jason ducks to catch it. He stands just in time to dodge Roy’s arm as he turns flailing to look at him. “Your landlady is June Ellington?”
“Yeah.”
“You didn’t think to mention that? What the fuck, Jason? Pardon me, ma’am.” Roy looks back to June without waiting for Jason’s response. “I’m sorry, uh—I’m—I’m a huge fan. Really. You were practically the soundtrack to my childhood—”
“Harper,” Jason hits him in the face with the dish rag. “Shut up.”
“Yeah, Dad, you’re being embarrassing.” Lian chimes in.
“No, no,” June smiles, “I like him already.”
___________
It’s nice to not wash up after dinner. Their trio makes their way back upstairs after a lovely dinner with June in which Roy manages to not embarrass himself further, but then the other man could always talk about music. June was delighted to have someone else to talk to in the house. Jason didn’t miss the significant looks she was giving him all evening, either.
Lian says goodnight to them at the door before splitting off to go to her own room down the hallway. It’s the first time they’ve been truly alone. Jason can’t decide if he wants to collapse on his feet or if he’s ever felt more awake.
“Which side of the bed do you want?” He asks, heading for the closet to change.
“Oh,” Roy blinks. “I mean, I can take the couch.”
“Why would you sleep on the couch?”
“Because there’s only one bed?”
“Since when is that an issue?”
“It’s not an issue, I just didn’t want to assume—”
“You’re almost as tall as I am. I’m not making you sleep on the couch.”
“It’s been fine the past two nights!”
“Just get in the damn bed, Harper.”
He’s acting strangely awkward. Jason muses. We’ve shared plenty of times. What’s different?
His face flushes with the memory of callused hands gripping his face and lips against his own.
I’m in love with you.
Yeah….that’ll do it.
___________
He probably only said it because it was a highly emotional moment. Jason thinks, lying awake. It was the relief of finding out Lian was safe and taken care of speaking, really. Literally an ‘I’m so happy I could kiss you’ situation.
But he was kind of awkward about the sleeping arrangements. Why wouldn’t we share a bed? We have plenty of times before. Is it ‘cause it's a new place, to him? I’ve been here so long—I forgot that he’s new to this house.
He would have said something else, wouldn’t he? If he had meant it.
Wouldn’t he have?
Jason doesn’t sleep a wink, basking in the wonder of his partner alive and warm and breathing softly beside him. He still hardly believes it's real, even when the other man shifts in his sleep to press up against his side.
___________
Roy’s not quite sure when he drifts off, but when he wakes up, Jason is still beside him. If he shifts closer to him in the dark, well, nobody else needs to know. Jason will kick him if he wants Roy to go away, even in his sleep. He’s done it before.
___________
I should probably sleep tonight, Jason thinks when the first rays of light tint the apartment golden. But how could he pass up on the memory of Roy Harper plastered up against his side?
The bed is warm, the sheets and blankets are soft, and yeah, maybe he hasn’t slept in three nights, but this is by far the best Jason’s felt in months.
Roy stirs beside him with a yawn.
“G’morning.” He greets, blinking slowly. “What’re you starin’ at?” He reaches up and ruffles Jason’s hair. Jason doesn’t stop him.
“You should sleep more,” Jason says. “You don’t have to get up.”
“Nah,” Roy smiles. “You’re up.” He stretches a bit. “Your hair’s so flat like this.”
“The fuck do you think a straight perm is gonna do?”
“Is it forever?”
“It’ll grow out.” Jason sits up, already lamenting the loss of warmth in the cool morning. “Why, am I worse on the eyes this way?”
“Never.” Roy mumbles. He’s falling back asleep anyways. “You jus’ don’ look like you.”
___________
Roy lounges in bed for another fifteen or twenty minutes, but the scent of coffee lures him into joining Jason in the kitchen eventually. He’s half dressed in a suit, dress shirt tucked into exquisitely tailored slacks that Roy maybe takes a second to appreciate. More oatmeal simmers in the stove under Jason’s watchful eye as he stirs a coffee.
“Hungry?” Jason asks. Roy hums an affirmative. “Spoons are in the top right drawer.”
The bowl of oatmeal is warm in his hands. Hot, homemade food is a luxury he is always reminded to be grateful of in space. Their return ship on this mission had not been as nicely equipped as the one they’d flown in their Outlaw days.
“What kind of—”
The spoon clatters to the floor. Roy stares down at it, bewildered.
“Did you just drop that?” Jason asks.
“Uh. Maybe?”
“You just opened the drawer and dropped a spoon on the ground.”
“Whoops?”
“You aren’t usually such a klutz.” Jason teases.
Roy bends down to grab the spoon. Black spots dance across his vision when he straightens up.
Damn, I didn’t think I was that tired still.
Jason moves away from the stove to add sugar to his coffee, and conveniently blocks access to the spices that Roy wants, so he moves up behind him, but doesn’t feel like reaching. And Jason is right there.
He rests his chin on Jason’s shoulder. Jason doesn’t pull away.
Roy rests a hand on his hip. He doesn’t pull away from that, either.
“Pass me the cinnamon?”
___________
Jason doesn’t dare turn around. He doesn’t want to even move, if he can help it.
His face is fiery—he can feel it right along with his heart pounding. Hopefully Roy can’t hear the way his pulse hammers in his ears or the shiver he’s not sure he managed to hide when he whispered in his ear. Roy’s voice is always kind of quiet and a bit rough on slow mornings like this. It’s really working against Jason now.
“Get a clean spoon, you freak.” He passes Roy the cinnamon. Roy takes it and steps away. Jason immediately regrets the loss.
Don’t make it weird Jason. Don’t make it weird. It’s just Roy. He’s always touchy and clingy.
Kissing people on the mouth is a bit more than just clingy.
Just eat your goddamn oatmeal.
___________
Roy snatches his dish away before he can take it to the sink when they’re finished.
“I’ll do the dishes.”
“I can do the dishes just fine.”
“Don’t you have a job? Go to work and let me do the dishes.”
“This is my apartment.”
“Too fucking bad. Go get ready for work.”
“I’m almost ready anyways,” Jason grumbles, but he gives up and disappears into the bathroom anyways.
“Damn, it gets bright in here.” Roy complains when Jason comes back. He’s staring out the balcony doors.
“Draw the curtains then. This is literally the opposite of direct light still dude, the windows are full west.”
“Nah, the light’s kinda pretty.”
The light is pretty. Jason’s transfixed by the way it makes Roy seem to glow.
“How is it that I’m supposed to be the creature of darkness or something between the two of us.” Jason shrugs on a jacket and goes to grab his hat. The red baseball cap by the door gives him pause. It’s not a reminder, anymore. Roy is here. The worn out cotton is soft underneath his fingers.
“Is that my hat? Give it here.” Roy catches it. “Why do you even have this? Nevermind.” He fits it on backwards, which does absolutely nothing to block the sun he was just complaining about. “I’m just glad you did.”
“You’ve been wearing a hat constantly for twenty years, and yet you still haven’t figured out how to use one effectively.” Jason shakes his head. “I’ve gotta catch my ride. I’ll be back after work.”
“See you later, Jaybird.” Roy grins, and waves him out. “I’ll try to leave the house standing by the time you get back.”
That smile sticks with him for the rest of the day. He wants to taste it.
___________
Diana stands up as soon as Neal steps out of the elevator.
“What are you doing here?”
He sends her a bewildered look. “I work here?”
“You’re not taking the day off?”
Neal just shakes his head. Diana opens her mouth to say something, but she isn’t even sure what. She doesn’t get the chance to figure it out, either, since Peter calls them all into the conference room for the morning brief.
She splits her attention between the meeting and Neal. He looks like he’s paying attention.
He is not paying attention at all.
She keeps her eye on him throughout the morning. It's most of what she ends up thinking about. It's all she’s thought about all weekend.
What the hell happened on Friday?
It takes a couple of hours, but Diana finally manages to corner Neal alone in the kitchen.
“Was that really him?”
Neal eyes her. “Who?”
“Don’t play dumb with me, Caffrey.” She scowls. “Not when I’m covering whatever the hell that was for you. Was that really him?”
Neal glances around. Diana doesn’t budge. He gives it another moment before sighing and nodding.
“Yeah,” he affirms, “it’s really him.”
“How?”
“I don’t know.”
She pauses. “Is that your way of telling me it’s classified?”
Neal shakes his head. “He hasn’t told me.”
“He’s…not what I expected.”
Neal smiles. “He rarely is.”
“How is Lian taking it?”
“She won’t let him out of her sight.”
“How are you taking it?”
“I think leaving to come to work today was one of the hardest things I’ve done in my life.” He admits.
“I guess you’re leaving on time, then?”
“Yeah,” he laughs, “yeah I’m fucking leaving on time.”
___________
Jason arrives home to a flat full of Titans again. They are, surprisingly, much weepier this time than the last time they were all here.
The younger crew, Tim’s friends, are congregated in the kitchen around a mixing bowl of God knows what. Jason doesn’t bother worrying. Connor’s got the bowl and whisk, and Jason trusts Ma Kent’s teachings. His couch and living room floor is a tangled pile of sniffling thirty-something year olds—Roy’s Titans.
He’ll have to pick up a new box of tissues next time he’s out.
“What’s this?” Jason peers over Connor’s shoulder into the bowl.
“Cake.” The older Kent answers succinctly. “Don’t distract me, I’m doing a sponge.”
“Dami and Jon went out for soda.” Tim says.
“If my cabinets are awry I am holding you solely responsible, Tim.” Jason threatens. “And soda doesn’t go with sponge cake, you heathens. Somebody put the kettle on.”
One quick change into casual clothes later Jason re-emerges into his kitchen just as the oven beeps that it’s preheated.
“Set it twenty degrees higher, the oven runs cold.” He instructs. Someone has actually put the kettle on. He takes a pot down for tea. Everyone likes Earl Grey. That’s suitable for a sponge cake.
“Hey Jason,” Dick calls out from the sprawl of Titans around the couch, “c’mere.”
“What do you want?” He asks.
What Dick wants, apparently, is to kick out his ankle so someone else can grab his arm and pull him down to entrap into their tangle. He ends up halfway on top of Roy, with Wally trapping his legs and Donna laying on his arm and someone else’s (probably Dick’s) arm across his back.
“The tea’s gonna be bitter from oversteeping.” He protests. Roy runs his fingers through his hair. Jason doesn’t try to get up.
“Just put extra sugar, no one will notice.” Roy says.
“That’s a fucking blasphemous suggestion.”
“Make the kids take care of the tea.” Dick says.
“We are all in our twenties except for Dami and Jon.” Tim points out.
“Kon’s not in his twenties.” Bart counters.
“Yeah, make Kon do it.”
“Do you people want cake or not?”
__________
Given the perpetual state of chaos Jason recalls ruling Titans Tower in the early (and later) years, the apartment isn’t badly off when the last of the heroes leave. Most of the dishes were even rinsed before they got left in the sink. They’d offered to stay and clean, but Jason had turned them down. He’s relishing in the silence. And maybe also in having Roy all to himself.
“Alright, couch is back together.” Roy announces, joining him back in the kitchen. “The kids leave any pop or is it gone?”
“Ginger beer’s in the wine cabinet, if that's alright.”
“Oh nice, I could do with something spicy.”
Jason hears the cabinet open over the rush of the sink, but no bottles chime and no doors close. He shuts off the tap and turns to find Roy sitting on the floor in front of his wine cabinet.
“Is something wrong?”
Roy looks up at him with something like heartbreak in his eyes.
“Jaybird…are you okay?”
Not really. Jason thinks, recalling the last few months. “It’s a work in progress.”
“Dude, this is like, your entire stash.”
“Yeah.”
Roy swallows. “Are you trying to substitute it for something else?”
“I—” The earnesty on Roy’s face pulls at something in his chest. “I missed you.” He confesses, which isn’t quite the question Roy was asking. He knows what he was asking. He doesn’t want to tell him about crumbling to pieces and drowning it out every time Roy’s daughter wasn’t across the hall. Even though he knows he’d understand. “I missed you so fucking much, Roy.”
“I missed you too, Jaybird. Every day.” The smile on his face is just sad enough that Jason knows he’s seen through him anyways. “Come on,” he stands up slowly, pausing to grab a bottle from the cabinet. “We can split one after the dishes.”
__________
Hanging out with superheroes never gets old, even though Lian grew up being babysat by them. She’s glad that she could see them all. They’d been like aunts and uncles to her when she was little, and now she barely sees the rest of them at all. She didn’t know Superboy could make cake though. It was a pretty good cake, too.
The adults were all crying a lot, which they never do, so that’s weird. Lian gets it though, she’s been crying a lot the last couple of days too.
Her dad is back.
He came back.
He wasn’t dead - he came back.
Lian was right.
“Daddy?” She pushes open the apartment door. It’s quiet now, since everybody that doesn’t live here has left. Jay’s already cleaned everything up, too. She spies the two of them out on the balcony. They’re standing really close to each other. It makes sense, it’s pretty chilly when she goes outside to join them.
“Hey Sweetheart,” her dad turns around to face her, “did you want to sleep here again?”
“No,” she shakes her head, wrapping her arms around herself against the night air. “But I wanted to say goodnight.”
“Of course,” Jay ushers her inside. “Do you want tea or milk or anything?”
She shakes her head. “I already brushed my teeth.”
Lian glances back at her dad. He almost looks like he’s going to cry again, but he’s smiling, too.
__________
Roy keeps shifting around on the other side of the bed. Jason had forgotten how rarely the other man is actually still.
“You alright over there?” He asks anyways.
“Totally, why?” Roy yawns. ”You not alright over there?
“Queen size beds aren’t exactly the ideal for two grown adult men to share.”
“Aww, and here I thought you wanted to cuddle, Jaybird.”
Jason elbows him. “At least you’re warm.”
“Good thing, since you’re such a fucking bodyheat leech.” Roy grumbles.
“Maybe I wouldn’t have to if you didn’t steal all of the blankets.”
“It’s not my fault! I can’t control if I move around in my sleep when I’m asleep!”
“You do fine when we’re sleeping somewhere dangerous.”
“This is a penthouse in the upper west side, Jaybird. Sorry if I'm not shaking in my boots.”
“Yeah, well, maybe you should be. I hear Neal Caffrey is a crafty motherfucker, no matter how much of an emotional wreck he is these days.”
“I dunno,” Roy jokes, “you’re the only one who’s not crying over me.”
“Don’t tell me to.” Jason stares up at the ceiling. He didn’t mean for it to come out so seriously, but he can’t help it. “I’ll never stop.”
“Hey.”
Roy shifts onto his side, looking at him. Jason doesn’t turn his head. His throat is tight.
“I can’t, Roy. If I let go I’m going to shatter into a million pieces.”
“Don’t let go then—just let yourself crack.”
Jason squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head. His breath hitches.
“C’mere, you.” Roy pulls him in, and holds him as the first tears fall.
__________
Something is going on with Neal, and once again, Peter has no idea what it is. He’s jittery with excitement and anxiety in turns, and he keeps checking the clock, even though the day has just started. But one comment from Jones about whether or not he has plans or something completely shuts it down. Every smile is perfectly Neal, every movement is practiced—sure, Neal’s been working here for years, and it’s just a normal day in the office. He probably has done everything he’s doing now enough times for it to look so smooth it’s rehearsed.
It’s never so simple with Neal Caffrey. Their old conversation echoes in his mind as he watches his friend’s perfect facsimile of normalcy.
I am an actor, Peter.
They break before their afternoon case meeting to go over their individual findings from the day.
“You don’t usually wear red.” Peter comments, examining Neal’s crimson tie at the water dispenser. Neal’s poured himself a cup full of hot water. It’s not even for tea—the conman just drank it.
Neal shrugs. “Why not? It’s summery. Patriotic, even.”
“Can we stop dissecting Caffrey’s accessories and get a move on? I’d like to at least try and be home for dinner for once.” Diana complains
Jones laughs. “Yeah, that’s wistful thinking.”
__________
It’s been a long time since Roy picked Lian up from a regular day school. She’d only gone to one for two years, before things had gotten worse and he’d thought boarding school would be safer for her than risking someone tracking him back to their apartment where they could find her. He regrets a lot of things in his life. He has a lot more things that he probably should regret more. Sending Lian to that school is the biggest regret of all of them, right now. He wonders if she’ll ever forgive him for it. He won’t deserve it, if she does. He’ll never forgive himself.
Jason picked out a nice school for her here, at least. Jason had to call and add him to the approved pickup list.
What kind of an absent father wasn’t on his own kid’s approved school pickup list?
The glass doors swing open into a cool, air conditioned lobby. There’s benches and some plants and a bulletin board reminding everyone that this is the last week of the school year.
The last week. He’s missed so much.
He’d almost missed the rest of her life.
He gives the receptionist his name, and says he’s here for Lian. The woman who escorts her down the hall from the classrooms almost makes him break out into a laugh. Of course Jay had someone in the school with her.
He loves him so much.
___________
The school year is almost over, finally. Lila had been apprehensive about the job at first. Moving out of state, away from her family, taking on this long term thing with unknown dangers–she’d been right to be thoughtful about it. It’s turned out well, though. She’s definitely moving back to Gotham, but she’s become her own person these past few months. It’s been good for her, to step away and figure out her life for a while, out on her own. She’s not sure if she wants to move back in with her dad and siblings after the freedom of living on her own here. She’s an adult, she’s through college and she knows she’ll find a job easily back home. Her siblings are growing up. Maybe it’s time she let herself have this.
She’ll miss this school though. It’s been a good semester. This is one of the last times she’ll walk Lian down to her waiting uncle (Timothy Fucking Drake!).
“Hey there, Lila. Didn’t expect to see you here.”
Lila’s blood runs cold.
There’s a dead man standing in her lobby.
“Lian, honey, why don’t you step into the office?” She gives the girl a gentle push towards the door.
“Why? Do you need to talk to my dad?”
“Yeah, it’ll just be a minute kiddo.” She smiles reassuringly.
Lian looks to the man for assurance.
“Go ahead, sweetheart. We’ll be quick.”
Lila tenses even further. Was that a threat? She slides her phone out with one hand as the other grips the weapon in her pocket.
He doesn’t say anything.
“Hello, is this Mr. Caffrey? We’ve got an unauthorized person here to pick up your daughter.”
“One sec.” The boss says at the other end of the line, and hangs up.
The man’s phone rings. “Yeah Red, it's me at the school,” he answers. “Yeah. Uh huh. Yup. See you at home.”
Lila’s phone rings.
“Good job, Lila. He’s fine.”
“Yeah, not to be impertinent, boss, but isn’t he very dead?”
“Eh. Not very.” And then he hangs up on her again.
What the fuck.
“All clear, Lian.” She calls out.
“Daddy!” She squeals, running out of the office and into his arms.
“Hey there, squirt.” He swings her up and onto his hip as if she were a toddler and not a nine-year-old. “What are we doing today?”
Lila watches them leave as Lian protests her new position. No way. No fuckin’ way.
But the boss would never let somebody else walk away with that kid.
‘Not very.’ Fuckin’ mystical shit.
“Put me down! Put me down! I’m not a little kid!”
“Incorrect. You are both little and a kid.”
“I’m not a little kid, you’re just big. Hey, are you or Jayjay taller?”
“Much to my daily annoyance, he is taller than me. It’s very terrible, believe me.”
“I’m the tallest in my class right now.”
“Oh are you? You get that from me, not your mother.”
___________
sweeper no sweeping added sniper no sniping to red hood’s goon squad
sniper no sniping
Guess who’s back bitches
Cant believe yall kicked me out
little john
cant have dead people in the group text
Its a security risk
sweeper no sweeping
Thats why hoods not allowed
___________
Boba tea is weird. Roy’s had it maybe once before, he thinks, but he honestly can't remember. It’s not a bad weird, just…weird. Lian was very excited at the prospect, and she thought it was funny when he tried it and made a face. Apparently Jason’s not a fan, according to Lian. Lian, on the other hand, apparently loves boba tea. It was the first thing out of her mouth when he asked if she wanted to go out for ice cream before ballet. She likes it more than ice cream. That’s a pretty fucking radical shift, in Roy’s opinion, and he has no idea when or why his daughter’s preferences changed so much. It creeps up on him, how such a superficial change as a snack preference just adds to the stack of things he doesn’t know about his own kid. He can feel the weight of it all just…looming over him. What else has he missed? Is her favourite food still pho? She’s started taking ballet. He thought she wanted to take singing lessons. She’s inches taller than the last time he saw her.
He’s missed so much.
Lian’s taken them to a park to drink their teas. The metal bench is warm against his back.
“Are you coming to my dance recital at the end of the week?”
“Of course. What are you dancing to?”
“Mozart. But I’m actually in the level three class now, not level one. I got moved up a week ago. They already did the costumes though, so I’m still dancing with the other class for the recital.”
“Did you skip level two?”
She preens a bit. “Uh huh.”
“Good job, kiddo.” He ruffles her hair. “That’s my girl.”
They fall silent, focused again on their boba. I bet it reminds Jay of frog eggs, he thinks absentmindedly. A breeze cuts relievingly through the late June humidity.
“You’re really going to come?” Lian asks quietly. “You’re not going to get called to go to a Justice League meeting or something?”
Guilt wells up, burning in Roy’s chest. What kinda guy goes to a meeting over his kid’s recital? Me. I’m the kinda guy.
“I promise I’ll be there, Li.”
“You shouldn’t.” She shakes her head, and sips more of her tea. “You’ll feel bad if you have to miss it if you do. But if you have to go be a hero because there’s an emergency, you have to go save people. People’s lives are more important than my recital.”
Roy sighs.
“Superheroes make pretty shitty fathers, huh?”
“You’re not a shitty father.” She leans her head on his shoulder. “But you are kind of an absent one.”
“I’m sorry, Lian.” He puts his arm around her and pulls her close. “I’m so, so sorry.”
“Mom said if you ever send me to boarding school again I have to tell her and she’ll come get me.”
“Never,” he swears. “You’re never going away again. Maybe I’ll homeschool you so I don’t have to let you out of my sight.”
“Yeah, but then I wouldn’t have any friends, either.”
“You could still go to ballet class. You can have all your friends there.”
“You’re being silly.” She giggles.
“Yup. But your mom is gonna come take you away soon and then I’m gonna be lonely.”
“No you won’t, you’ve got Jason. You can hang out with him all the time.”
“Yeah, he’s pretty great, isn’t he? He do alright lookin’ after you?”
“Yeah, he did.” The silence that falls between them is comfortable. Roy basks in the sunlight. It’ll be too hot, soon, but right now he’s just appreciating the unrecycled air. “Hey Daddy?” She asks eventually. “What’s with you and Jayjay?”
He only hums in response.
“That’s not a real answer, Dad.”
“We’re partners.”
She hums this time, side eyeing him.
“Are we going to go away when I get back?”
“I don’t know, honey.”
“I don’t want to.” She declares. “I’ll miss Jay too much. He’s the best.”
“We’ll see what happens, munchkin. But even if we don’t live with him, we’ll still see him a lot, okay? I’d miss him too. I missed both of you so much.”
“I missed you too, Daddy.”
___________
What’s with you and Jayjay?
Good fuckin question, squirt. I don’t know, he thinks as he walks home after dropping her off. What are we?
He hasn’t responded to what I said. Is that a no, then? Should I just take that as an answer and not say anything else ever?
If I bring it up again, is he going to pull away?
He’s not making me sleep on the couch though, either.
Partners. Easy. That’s what we are.
If only that word wasn’t so fucking loaded.
I love him so much.
New York City bustles around Roy as it always does. He basks in it. Months on a spaceship with rare stops was a lot for anyone to handle. Months on a spaceship with rare stops and no idea what had happened at home, what would be waiting when he returned—it was miserable. Miserable and heart wrenching. And lonely. Roy doesn’t have anything against Tamaraneans, but to be the only human for eight months was honestly just…lonely. Some people just need time around their own people. Roy is absolutely one of those people. So he basks in it—the streets, the shouting, the movement, the life and community of millions of individuals. The mundanity of the subway and the sidewalks and the grocery store.
He’s always liked New York. He used to have a place in Brooklyn. Besides, he has to replace the worcestershire sauce he’d dropped all over the floor that morning.
__________
Jason’s New York apartment is fantastic, don’t get him wrong, but right now Roy is wishing it wasn’t on the top floor. He didn’t think he’d gotten that many groceries. Jay’s weird Neal hat is hanging by the door. He must’ve beat him home.
“Hey, take it easy,” Jason scolds, taking the bags out of Roy’s hands. “You didn’t have to go shopping, I could’ve gotten stuff.”
“I’ve done nothing for days, I can help.” Roy protests. “Seriously, you’ve been taking care of Lian by yourself for months. The least I can do is go out for groceries.”
“And I was mentally preparing to take care of her by myself for the rest of my life.” Jason sets the bags down on the counter.
“You’ve done more than I could’ve ever asked for, Jay. I can step up.” Roy insists, even as he leans against the countertop himself. He’s winded from the stairs.
“Roy.” Jason says. The sound of his first name sets an imperceptible spark in the redhead’s chest. Jason steps up to him, a hand rising to his neck. His already fast pulse quickens as the taller man’s fingers rest gently just under his chin, counting beats per minute. “I—that heartbeat is all I need from you. The fact that you’re breathing—that’s more than I could’ve ever asked for.”
Roy closes his eyes. He swallows, and realizes that he’s holding his breath. Jason’s touch moves briefly to his shoulder, and then disappears.
Roy slowly exhales.
Fuck.